“Oh God, Laura, Laura—“ he cried. I felt it, as if it were my own orgasm, when Brody came. The swift tightening of his entire body, and then the pounding release as he rolled me over onto my back and thrust deep once, twice, his orgasm thundering through me in a hot gush that made my back bow and my head tip back. He kissed my throat even as his body went rigid in my arms.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever recover from that. From the sheer intimacy of Brody taking me raw on my twin bed in the room I grew up in. His eyes on mine, his lips on mine, every part of us tangled together. He had one of my hands in his, our fingers laced together. He rolled onto his side and pulled me with him. He managed to drag the comforter out from under us and cover me with it.
He drew me into his arms and let me rest my cheek on his chest. All the tension and awkwardness went out of my body then. He felt like home. So so much.
I laughed, “This is my childhood room.”
“Yeah, well I hope those posters aren’t new.”
“Judge all you want. The point is, I used to fantasize about you while I laid in this bed, when I was a teenager, and you were already grown up. I had such a crush on you.”
“That makes me feel like a dirty old man,” he said.
“Aw you’re not that old,” I teased, “but you’re plenty dirty. Say that with pride.”
“Now you’ve made it weird,” he said.
“Have not. It was already weird. Also it was steamy and incredible. You were so—good to me, Brody,” I said almost shyly.
He wasn’t looking at me. He still held me, but I felt the tension in his arms, where he’d been relaxed before.
“Hey, I wasn’t trying to freak you out,” I said, reaching up and touching his face.
“I’m fine. You still can’t stay here alone though. Are you going to Damon’s or to my house?”
“I could go to Rachel’s I guess, but it’s her day off. The last thing I wanna do is wake a woman who has to be at work at five in the morning every other day of the week.”
“Damon’s then?”
“I don’t want to wake them either. If he’s lucky he got them settled, and my parents are back asleep. If I show up now, my mom’ll get up and want to know details about the investigation and stuff.”
“Then you’re coming to my house. Grab some stuff.”
He rolled off the bed and pulled on his jeans faster than I could’ve believed. Son of a bitch. Talk about hit it and quit it. He killed my cozy afterglow buzz. I got up and went into the bathroom. I washed up and brushed my messy hair. I could barely look my reflection in the eye, flushed and with fevered eyes. I pulled on some clothes I’d left on the hook to workout in. I grabbed the few things I’d need and shoved them in a tote bag along with a clean uniform and another change of clothes. I pulled on my sneakers and nodded, ready to go. I grabbed a baseball cap as I was leaving and dragged my ponytail through the back of it. Even though there was no sun up to shield my eyes from, it felt like it protected me a little. I didn’t even glance at my mangled car door covered in fingerprinting dust as I passed it and got in his truck. He drove me to his house and I followed him in.
I wondered if he’d ask me to share his bed, if he had meant anything he said to me earlier. He showed me the guest room and said the bathroom was next to it. Then he shuffled down the hall and went into his own room and shut the door. That answered that question. Now I was confused, disappointed and miserable. This didn’t turn out the way I’d hoped at all.
20
Brody
Punching the pillow and flipping it over, I turned my back to the wall that my bedroom shared with the guestroom. Just a couple layers of sheetrock between Laura and me. I wouldn’t even look in that direction. She wasn’t the first woman I’d slept with since I was widowed, but she was the first one I’d cared about. It had affected me, sleeping with her. Why had I chosen that position—face to face, her cradled in my lap and in my arms? If I’d just had her from behind like in my fantasy, maybe I could’ve disconnected, could’ve made it about slaking my lust and attraction for her. Instead, she’d been gazing into my eyes like she saw my soul, and she said she fucking loved me. Admittedly, I’d just made her come really hard, so it could’ve been that. I could brush that off as a slip of the tongue, something random she blurted out because I’d made her feel good. But that didn’t wash away the residue of what I felt for her.