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When you start to question everything around you, text me. I mull over the words as I stand, grabbing the book I’m reading. For the life of me, I can’t understand why someone would give me that.
* * *
I’m tired of tossing and turning. Tired of the recurring nightmares that never stop and when they do, my old friend, insomnia, taunts me. I grab my blanket that Branson bought me. Walking to the door, I pause, contemplating my next move. If I do this… there is no going back. Sighing, I close my door and lock it.
Walking across the hall, I knock lightly.
The door swings open. A disheveled Branson leans against the doorframe. His hair is a sexy mess. His beautiful, sculpted body is on display. His sweatpants hang low on his hips, like an arrow that points to the fact that he isn’t wearing anything beneath it.
“What’s up?” His voice is low and coated with sleep. It makes fire lick every inch of me.
“I… I can’t sleep.”
“What do you want me to do about that?” He tilts his head. God, he can be so mean. I mean, I like it, but still.
“I suffer from insomnia. Nightmares, the whole nine yards. But with you…” I look at my toes. “With you, the nightmares never come. The insomnia is nonexistent.” I sigh, looking back up to him.
Being vulnerable was never my strong suit. He craves that part of me. Almost as if he drinks from it. “So, I was wondering if I could sleep with you?”
He studies me for a while. So long, I almost turn around, but then he pushes his door open wider. Nodding his head toward the bed.
I smile, my body brushing up against his. His length is hard between us. Brushing against me.
“Clothing is not allowed in my bed, Darling.”
I laugh, crawling in. “Liar. You’ll make an exception for me.”
He lets out a deep sigh as his arms wrap around me, dragging me to fit against him. “Just this one time,” he whispers into my hair.
I feel safe locked into him. Like he’s home… which is crazy because, like I’ve said, I have never had one. I just… Gah, I don’t know. I’m setting myself up for heartache. Our worlds can never collide. There is nothing here but a connection. One that will snap and break once the show is over.
Still, I fall asleep with a smile on my face. Noticing the blinking camera pointed at his bed. And I don’t even care if the world sees.
Before the lamp goes off, I see something has been added to his impersonal walls. It is a drawing framed in thick, gold ivory. A girl reading a book in a chair. Looking closely at the details, I realize it is me. My heart skips as the lamp shuts off. So that’s what Emerald was doing. My mind is having an even harder time shutting off now. That picture was drawn a while back. How long… I shut my mind down. Another smile appears as I settle more into Branson, my eyes drifting into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter 11
@BransonLexington: “Do you know why the bad guy is everyone’s favorite? Yeah, me neither, you twisted fucks.”
Branson
We all sit in the living room. Everyone is talking as I stare at the stairs like a desperate fool. It is beneath me, but I can’t stop myself. As if the stairs have a magnet attached to them.
I replay the haunted look on Rayne's face from days ago. It had broken something in me to see her like that. To relive those memories.We didn’t bring it up again. Choosing to spend time with one another instead. Lunch here, swimming there. Small conversations before she went to her own bed. Rayne had a hard life, but she poured such light into my darkness, it was easy to forget.
“And I would just rather be on top, you know?” Dante releases a cloud of smoke from his mouth, passing the joint to Tucker. Tucker frowns, taking a hit.
“No, dude. I really don’t.” Tucker points the joint at Dante “You’re a selfish lover.” He says it with such distaste, I laugh.
I never understood a man who said he didn’t enjoy a girl riding him. It’s all for her. Exactly.
I love watching girls come undone on top of me. Feel them squeeze my dick. Soak my legs. Throw their heads back as their tits bounce in my face. Just watching them get off on me made me get off on them. Like, my dick did that. Ego boost. I’m a selfish bastard but I’m an amazing lover. Giving to a woman makes my dick hard. I mean, how could I not when I’m responsible for her pleasure?
“I personally like hitting it from the back. I don’t have to look at her. She doesn’t have to look at me. We both get off, and kicking her out is less awkward,” Kyler muses while taking a hit.
Tucker scoffs. “No wonder you guys only fuck a girl once. Who the fuck wants to come back to that?”
“I don’t know…” Dante chuckles. “Josefina likes my dick just fine.”
