8. Melanie

8

Melanie

T he pages before me begin to blur as I struggle to read, and I glance at my phone, knowing it's time for a break. I lift my head and from the sofa I spot Brady out on the patio, surfing rental sites on his laptop. A strange sense of warmth goes through me. I can't freaking believe he's out there searching for a place for me to live. I gave him all the necessary criteria, but the market is so tight right now, not to mention my budget. I doubt he'll be able to find me anything, and while I like my roommate, I am so ready for my own space.

Even if he does find something reasonably priced, things will be insanely tight. All extra income is going toward next year's tuition, which is due in full at the end of October. I do have my line of credit, and can probably use that until I secure a full-time job after graduation—which I have leads on. I take a deep breath and remind myself, that it's only one more year. My car, however, will have to sit idle for the time being.

As if sensing my eyes on him, his head lifts and he arches a questioning brow. I answer with a nod, letting him know I'm taking a break and he pushes to his feet, stepping back inside, laptop in hand. It's crazy what the mere sight of him does to me and for a girl who is hell bent on finding her own space, I quite enjoy sharing this place with him this weekend.

"Anything?" I ask as he walks toward me, a slow swagger that probably shouldn't turn me on but does. I give him a twice over—you know, like a once over, only I do it twice. After his jog and swim on the beach he changed into a pair of khaki shorts and a T-shirt that shows off long, lean muscles and biceps I suddenly want to take a bite out of.

I dogear the page of my textbook, and wipe my moist palms on the one sundress I brought with me. There's nothing flattering about it. I had no idea I'd have company. Yet everything in the way Brady gazes at me makes me feel beautiful again.

"Found a few leads," he informs me and my heart jumps.

"Tell me."

He sets his laptop down. "No."

"No?"

He shakes his head. "I don't want anything interfering with your studying. All focus should be on your upcoming exam." I make a move to reach for his laptop, but he slides it out of my reach. Lord knows I do everything on my own and this…handing a task over to Brady is so not like me. Then again, I'm doing a lot of things that aren't like me, but I like them. A lot.

"Fine," I grump.

He drops to his knees before me and takes my book from my hands. "If I quiz you on what you just read, are you going to get the answers right?"

I angle my head. What is he up to? "What happens if I do get the answers right?"

He lightly toys with the short sleeves on my dress. "You'll be rewarded."

I laugh, assuming he's joking, but he pushes away, sits on the coffee table and opens the book to where I dogeared the page. He goes back about ten pages to the start of the chapter. "You started here, on chapter four?"

"Uh huh." He scans the page. "Were you a good student?" I ask. Something that looks like pain flashes in his eyes. "It's okay. I wasn't a great student growing up. I worked since I was fifteen, so it was always hard to fit in studying."

His head lifts, and the second our eyes lock, I get a sense he too had to work for everything. "There wasn't a lot of time for school," he admits. "I had hockey, and my mom…"

His words fall off and he sucks in a tight breath. "It's okay, Brady."

"She has trouble with mobility," he continues.

"I'm sorry."

"Sometimes she has a hard time walking. Her muscles seize up. She has falls." He casts me a fast glance and adds, "I think drinking is a big part of it." Shock moves over his face, giving me the sense that he'd never admitted that to himself until this very moment.

I don't touch on it, instead I ask, "You helped out a lot, huh?" If he lost his dad at eight, he must have been taking care of her for a long time.

He nods. "My uncle stays with her now."

I take his hand in mine, and not only do I sense worry in him, I sense guilt. "It's hard being away?"

"Yeah."

I lean forward and give him a soft kiss, wanting to soften his pain. "You did good for yourself, Brady. I bet they're all proud of you."

He doesn't agree, instead he answers with, "It's good I can help them all out."

He flicks the pages absently, a frown on his face like he's remembering something hard from his past. As I watch, it hits me. He takes care of his family back home—financially. He's still responsible for them. That's why he tensed up when I harshly told him he wasn't responsible for that guy on the beach. I mean, I guess it's okay to feel responsible for your family, especially when times are hard, which they seem to be in Newfoundland. Why then, do I think there is more going on here?

I'm about to ask, but in the blink of an eye, his playful demeanor returns, disguising the emotions he doesn't want me to see. "Are you ready to be quizzed, little Lanie?"

I resist the urge to press. He's done with this conversation, and is making it clear he wants to move on. "Bring it," I say and lean back on the sofa.

He reads a paragraph, and starts listing off medical conditions. "Okay, what's the diagnosis for that?" he asks.

I quickly blurt out the answer. "Bipolar."

"Very good." He reads the next paragraph.

"Wait, what's my reward? I got it right."

"So, you did."

He sets the book down, drops to his knees and puts his hand behind my head. He pulls my mouth to his as he leans in and gives me a deep, hard kiss that steals my breath. After he breaks it, he sits back on the coffee table and I take a few panting breaths.

"Okay, Brady, how the heck am I supposed to think after that?"

He winks at me. "That's just going to make it more challenging, and I know you're not afraid of a challenge."

I fan my hand in front of my face. "What makes you say that?"

"You just told me you started work at fifteen, and I see how hard you work at the resort and you're doing your master's degree at the same time. That's challenging and you have all my respect, babe."

My heart soars. I like that he sees that in me, and respects what I'm doing. "Okay, next question." Under my breath I murmur, "Can't wait to see what my reward is when I get it right."

He wags his brows and adjusts the bulge in his shorts. "I'm not going to make this easy on you."

"I think it's going to be hard for both of us."

He laughs and asks me another question. I get it right, and pucker my lips. He doesn't go for them, however. Nope, He drops to his knees, puts his hands on my sides, and lightly rubs my nipples through my dress.

"God, Brady, really?"

"Hard," he reminds me and I let my head fall back as a groan crawls out of my throat.

"Yes, hard," I agree. He leans in and presses his mouth to one nipple through the fabric of my dress. His hot breath seeps through the thin material and washes over my nipple. He inches back, and I glance down at the damp spot he left behind. "You're getting me wet." He chuckles and that's when I realize what I said. I roll my eyes at him. "You know what I mean."

He puts his hands on my thighs. "You're telling me you're not getting wet."

"No, I'm not telling you that."

He laughs and sits back on the coffee table, leaving me a quivering mess on the sofa. He flips the page, and looking completely unaffected he reads the next question. I almost don't answer correctly. The man is killing me here. But because I'm an overachiever and hate to be wrong, I give the correct answer, and let's face it, I really want to see what my reward is.

"Very good, Lanie."

He sinks back to the floor, and his big, warm hands slide up my thighs and under my sundress. I take a gulping breath and widen my legs to give him better access to the needy spot that wants his attention.

"Let's see if you were telling me the truth."

I sink back into the sofa. "I always tell the truth," I murmur as he tugs my panties to the side and lightly runs his finger over my hot sex. "Brady…"

"Mmm, so nice and wet for me. I'm going to have to have a taste, Lanie."

"Yes, please." I open my eyes as he pushes a finger inside me. I lift my hips as he slowly moves his finger in and out. God, that feels so damn good. His thumb toys with my clit as he slowly, methodically fucks me with his finger, and just when my entire body flushes, he pulls out and sits back on the coffee table.

"Are you kidding me right now?" I huff.

"No, babe. We have to get through this chapter."

"Brady," I groan.

"One more question." Again, looking unaffected, even though the bulge in his pants tells a different story, he asks me a question and I blurt out the answer, desperate for him to be between my legs. "Very good," he tells me and sets the book aside. A little squeal of joy crawls out of my throat as he drops again, his fingers seeking my panties.

He grips them, and quickly pulls them off, but instead of tossing them aside, he shoves them into his pocket like they're a souvenir, and it oddly arouses me.

I grab the hem of my dress and pull it up, exposing my hot, needy pussy to him. He growls with pleasure as he takes in my pink dampness. "What was that you said about needing a taste?"

His breath is warm on my skin and vibrates through me as he grips my legs to widen them more, and gives me a wicked grin before he covers my sex with his mouth.

"Yes," I cry out and lace my fingers through his hair. He licks me, circles the soft blade of his tongue around my clit, until I'm panting and writhing, and delirious with want. "Brady…" I beg, and he answers my cries by sliding a thick finger inside me. I move, riding his finger as he sucks my swollen clit into his mouth, nibbling and biting until I'm a hot freaking mess. He gifts me with a second finger for a snug fit as the dual pleasure of his fingers inside me and his mouth on my clit instantly push me over the edge.

"Fuck yeah," he murmurs as my liquid arousal spills from my body. He groans as he unceremoniously eats at me, licking and drinking every drop like I'm the best thing he's ever tasted. I work to breathe as he devours me. After a moment, his head lifts and intense eyes lock on mine. He pops the button on his khakis and pulls out his gorgeous hard cock.

I reach for him, take him into my hands and he closes his over mine as I stroke the long length of him. "My turn," I say.

He arches a brow, confused and I chuckle. "I get to ask a question, and if you get it right, you get rewarded."

"Yeah, okay," he huffs out, like breathing is now a chore. He glances at my book for a second. "I don't really know much about psychology."

"My question has nothing to do with my course."

"Ask," he grumbles as he squeezes my hand around his dick, working it harder.

I blow a strand of hair from my damp forehead. "Do you want to fuck me?"

He grunts. "Yeah, I do."

"That's the right answer," I say and stand, pulling on him so he'll stand with me. He pushes up to his full height, and I turn him until the backs of his knees are hitting the cushions. Confusion moves over his face, but it disappears quickly when I give him a shove. He falls onto the cushions, and I hold my dress up and climb over him.

I reach down, and grip his cock, and he groans as I position him at my entrance. His fingers tighten around my sides, as I lower myself, taking every inch of him into my needy body.

"Lanie," he groans as I sink down until he's hitting my cervix in the most delicious ways. "You are so hot and tight. I'm not going to fucking last."

I lift myself up, and drop back down again, and our groans mingle. I wiggle and rotate my hips, wanting everything he has and then some. Honest to God, as he fills me, I consider my sanity. Nothing has ever felt this good before, which begs the question, why the hell did I wait so long to sleep with him? I can't come up with the answer right now and I don't much care. Not when Brady is gripping me tighter and taking control of my body, lifting me up and pulling me back down onto his steel cock.

I cup his cheeks and find his mouth, our tongues tangling and tasting as we come together as one. I break the kiss and glance down, needing to watch the way he's impaling me, and taking me to heights I've never know before I met him.

"Brady, I don't ever want to stop doing this," I cry out without thinking it through.

"Same, Lanie." He growls, leans forward and nibbles my nipple through my dress, and I tug my dress down, offering him my breasts. "That's more like it." He sucks my nipples, his mouth going from one to the other as he lifts me, and pulls me back down again.

I grind against him, and slip a hand between my legs to stroke my clit.

My nipple slips from his mouth as he dips his head to see me play with my clit. "Yeah, baby. Rub yourself for me. That is so fucking hot."

My finger slicks over my wet clit as he impales me, each thrust shattering me just a little bit more. He increases the pace as we each chase release and the second he pulls me down, his crown hitting my cervix hard, I shatter around him.

His eyes meet mine and briefly close as I soak his cock. "Fuck yeah." His fingers bite harder into my hips and he holds me down on him as he jerks upward with his hips. A second later, his head rolls back as he tumbles into orgasm. "Lanie. Fuck."

I suck in air, panting as his cock swells inside me, his liquid release warming me from the inside out. I fall forward, and rest my forehead against his as he continues to pulse. His arms snake around my back, a soft caress as he pulls me against him.

We hold onto one another until our breathing levels out. Body lethargic, and happy from my orgasmic bliss, I'm about to ask him if he wants to take a fast afternoon nap, but my words die an abrupt death, when his now cool hands grip my shoulders, to straighten me.

The second I see the stricken look on his face, blood rushes back into my brain, and I realize what we've done.

"Oh no."