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Branson looks down at me, a scowl of disappointment aimed at me. I stick my bottom lip out. “Are you disappointed in me?”
His face softens as he sighs.“Nah, Darling. Just think maybe Tucker should have told you all he made weed brownies.”
I giggle. “That bastard,” I whisper.
The energy from earlier is replaced with exhaustion. Comedown, I think they call it? Like when you’re at the top of a roller coast and you drop down, except there is no excitement in this. There is still a slight rush. A feel of haziness but no buildup.It feels like a comedown, for sure. Sitting up and facing Branson, I just stare at him for a while. He never breaks eye contact with me. The energy is intensified on weed.
It’s so much more. Pulling me deeper and deeper. I need to stop it.
“Do you have some sweatpants?” I ask. He frowns, nodding as he goes to his closet, pulling a black pair down. Walking back over, he places them in my hand. Our fingers brush, energy slipping down my body, curling my toes.
“Thanks.” I stand, pulling my jeans down and stepping out of them. Slipping the soft material up my legs, I pull the drawstring all the way before rolling the waistband up so they fit. I feel so small and cuddled in them. Like a baby kangaroo in its mother’s pouch.
I look at Branson as he stands still against the wall.
“A shirt?” He nods, gripping the back of his collar and pulling it above his head. Stalking toward me, he drops it on the bed. Beautiful, sculpted muscles roll on his stomach, ending in a sharp V. I vowed to one day learn the proper term for that delicious part of the body.
His arms are cut and big. I want to run my tongue along the sharp edges. It is everything I love. He grips the hem of my shirt, slowly pulling it off me. His hair hangs in his eyes and all I can make out is his lips. They’re plush and look soft and are parted slightly as his fingers skim my sides and up my back to my bra clasp. With one flick, it falls. I pull it the rest of the way off.
I feel vulnerable. Exposed. Wanted.
He stares into my eyes before he swallows. His eyes slowly drift to look over every exposed inch. The swell of my breasts. My erect nipples. My toned stomach with an inner belly button. Then he grabs his shirt, slowly putting it over me. I crawl into his bed, snuggling deep into the pillows. I pat the spot behind me. I feel the bed dip as he slides up against me. Heat radiates off him as I snuggle deeper into him. His body absorbs mine.
I was a cuddle slut. I liked to cuddle. I think it’s the whole no parents thing, therefore, I found comfort in being surrounded in another embrace. Our body heat mingling together.
His arms wrap around my chest. My nipples graze them, wanting attention, but exhaustion wins.
I drift.
Chapter 6
@RayneMarshall: “You always think you're cool until you see yourself on TV.”
Rayne
Premier night reminded me a lot of movie night at the girls’ home as we are all piled up on a couch. At the girls’ home, we’d pile up on the couch, floor, anywhere that was available. It was always my favorite night because we all felt so close. Almost like a family. That was the last place I stayed before being sent out into the world.
That’s where I met Jordan. Unlike me, though, she made it out there. She met a nice man who took care of her. He was older than her, but she was happy. He was happy. They really loved each other. I was happy for her. That’s all you could hope for in life when you came from where we had.
The show starts off with our theme music, introducing everyone. Our names beside our slow-motion clips. I am last, of course. I’m a little thrown off seeing myself. Things that happen when you see yourself on TV: your voice makes you cringe, and facial expressions you thought you made are completely different. Actually, seeing yourself was unreal.
It shows everyone’s reactions to the house when they first walked in. Tucker’s by far the best when he screamed.
It shows the first night. Everyone was dancing downstairs at the party. Me unpacking my books while in my pajamas. My frustration when I tried to sleep against the noise of the raging party.
My first meeting with Tori cuts off right before Briggs came in. And then clips from everything that had happened over the last two weeks plays. I get to see the other people's lives.
Kyler rides the rip currents on his surfboard. There’s an indication of him getting head behind the lifeguard stand, but who can really know if that happened or if it’s a act for the show.
Kalisha and her meditating. Peacefully marching. Her and a girl from the party making out.
Josefina shows all the airhead moments she had. Personally knowing her, I knew this wasn’t an act. We see her and Branson going to the roof. Me falling and busting my head. And then the scene with him helping me. Pinning me. How he braced his hands on the door after I walked out, his head dropping down.
Emerald painting and sketching on various spots on the property.There’s even a scene of her and Tucker sneaking off. Of course, it cuts off before we can see what happens.
Tori’s clips include talking shit about me with Josefina. Sun-tanning. And shopping.
I wondered what it was like to live that simple of a life, taking this… job. Although not a normal job, and I just had to be myself. Okay, not a job, definitely more like a vacation. Anyway, taking this opportunity was the first time I’ve relaxed in my entire life. The first time I wasn’t hustling for food, stealing it more times than I care to admit. The first time I didn’t have to worry about how I’d pay my bills or if my sketchy landlord would demand sexual favors in order for him to fix my heater or anything that broke down in the shoebox I called home. Of course, I declined, even though heat was important, even if the weather was in the teens. Anything else I fixed from just watching YouTube and borrowing tools from friends.
