Breaking Brent (18 page)

“Peyton?” He lowered his voice as her name drifted from his mouth.

“Brent?”

He liked that. He liked the way her voice wrapped around his name. “I like that,” he admitted, and it earned him a smile from her.

“What?”

His teeth found that sweet spot at the side of her neck where her pulse began to beat heavily once again as she spoke. He nipped with his teeth and heard her moan once more before answering. “The way my name sounds coming from your lips.”

“Brent,” she whispered. “Brent.” With the last syllable out, he took her lips and then took her body well into the night.

Chapter Sixteen

Peyton stirred from her sleep hours before the sun even decided to come up. She tried to stretch and realized that a heavy hand rested across her stomach. That hand connected to an arm and that arm to a body—Brent’s body. He lay beside her, sleeping on his side with her body pulled close to his.

He was warm and his even and slow breathing caused a drowsiness to fall over her mind, body and soul. She turned her head slowly and quietly and studied him. In his sleeping state he didn’t look as harsh as he usually did. To most people, Brent was standoffish and not the easiest to get to know or to get close to, but she knew better. Brent was Brent. No, he wasn’t as kind hearted as Nick, or as boyishly charming as Jace or Hayden, or as friendly as they came like Chase. Brent was something entirely different.

She used to relish in the fact that she knew him—really knew him. She knew that he liked sitting at home watching movies cuddled together on the couch as much as he liked going out and raising hell. She knew that when asleep, his body was never far from hers. She also knew that the Brent she knew was totally different from the one most everyone else knew.

She tried to resist her next move, but found it impossible. Without waking him, she turned in his arms so that they were face to face, chest to chest, thigh to thigh. She missed this. She missed waking up in his arms. She missed the ease of lying beside him for hours before he woke up, listening and feeling him breathe. She missed the morning sex. She and Carter—

The second she thought of Carter a brief morsel of guilt did rise in her bones. She and Carter had never lain in each other’s arms for hours on end. She and Carter had never held each other all night long because neither one could stand to be away from the other’s touch. She had been faithful to Carter the entire length of their courtship and engagement, physically, but in her heart and in her mind she had cheated a million times.

That hadn’t been fair to Carter, but it hadn’t been fair to her either. After being alone and left to worry and wonder longer than she liked, about Carter and his whereabouts and his doings, she needed someone to hold her. To comfort her. To show her that they cared. She should have stopped at that.

She should have never let her mind or her feelings travel any further, but they had. They had wandered to the what-ifs in life. What if Brent was around on a permanent basis? What if Brent was lying beside her every morning when she woke up? What if it was Brent she came home to? What if it were Brent she was planning to marry instead of someone else? Instead of his best friend?

Carter hadn’t deserved her unfaithfulness, real or not, but she didn’t deserve his disregard for her either. But still, two wrongs never made a right. Carter had been there when Brent hadn’t been. Carter had been there when Brent had shut her out. He had offered her his comfort, his caring and his love. He had offered her all of the things Brent had offered her once upon a time.

Once upon a time before her life had changed in a flash. She and Brent had ended over a stupid fight and the stupid words tossed about during that stupid fight. Feelings had been hurt and ties had been broken, along with Peyton’s heart. Carter had picked up the pieces—he just hadn’t known how to put them back together.

Peyton had wondered more than once in the last few years if Carter had asked her to marry him out of some misplaced sense of honor. She, Brent and Carter had been friends long before there was ever a “she and Brent” and even longer before there was a “she and Carter”.

Carter had taken her on her first car date. Brent had escorted her during the homecoming festivities her sophomore year, it had been his and Carter’s senior.

Carter had given her her first kiss, a kiss she’d thought she would never receive thanks to Murphy and Reed and their ever-present meddling ways. It had been a silly little peck on the lips under the mistletoe one Christmas, but it was a kiss nonetheless. It had been Brent who had taken her virginity the summer before she’d gone away to college, and when she had come back they had picked up right where they’d left off. Carter had always been around as the prominent best friend and third wheel on date night or any other night.

It wasn’t until years later that she ever looked at Carter in a different light. Carter was handsome—there was no doubt about that. He had that lanky cowboy build with sun-streaked blond hair and laughing blue eyes. He was lean and muscular and could hold his own against everyone, except for Brent.

Her and Carter’s relationship and Carter’s loyalty toward her had caused a rift between Brent and him. That rift had opened up the door to dating, and dating had led to the engagement, and that now-broken engagement had led to Peyton’s present condition—wrapped in the arms of one Brent Kiel.

She didn’t want this to end. She didn’t want Brent to walk out of her life as easily as he had the first time. She wanted him to stay. She wanted to tell him about her and Carter and how they weren’t technically together anymore. She needed to be honest with someone she loved—and she did love him. She had always loved him and always would. She wasn’t shocked by her heart’s true feelings. She had always known where they truly belonged—they belonged with Brent.

Brent who lay beside her.

Brent who held her so tightly in his grip.

Brent who had made love to her more than once, with the knowledge that she had a fiancé—as far as he knew. Why had he done it? Did he really want her or did he want to show her he could have her no matter what and no matter when? Did he honest to goodness want to be in her bed or was this some fucked-up plan for revenge?

“It’s too early to be thinking so hard.”

Peyton blinked a few times, refocused her eyes and saw that Brent was awake and watching her. How long had he been awake and how long had he been watching her turn over the last few thoughts in her head?

“Good morning.” What else could she say to the man she thought might be using her for one reason or another? Silently, she prayed that was not why he was still in bed with her. Pity would have been better. She could deal with his pity, but not his need to boost his ego by using her.

“Barely. What time is it?” When he asked his question he also pulled Peyton closer to him. She realized he must have been awake for a little while judging from the erection brushing her belly and sending chills through her body—a body still exhausted and a little sore from their lovemaking the previous night. Was it lovemaking? That was the second time in a span of a few minutes where she’d thought of their actions as lovemaking or making love instead of just sex.

“Almost four.” She didn’t have to move to see the time. The clock on the chest of drawers across the room could be seen from where she lay. “Did you sleep well?” It was a stupid question, but it was the only one that came to mind.

“I must have. I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

Neither did she. All she knew was that when she finally did fall into her dreamless sleep, she had been wrapped in Brent’s strong arms.

“I need to be going in a little while.”

Peyton knew he would have to leave sooner or later. He had to be at home and in the house before anyone else was up and moving and before any questions could be asked about where and with whom he had spent his night. Peyton wondered if he had devised his escape plan before coming over last night.

She started to move from her comfy spot in the bed and in his arms, but something stopped her. He stopped her. Brent’s arm had tightened on her waist the second her body had budged an inch.

“I didn’t say I was leaving yet, just in a little while.” As he spoke, he rolled until he rested in between her thighs. Peyton was shocked that her legs moved to accept his body without a thought from her.

She watched as he wrestled with the sheet that had wrapped around him as he rolled. When he had removed the only barrier blocking his skin from hers, she stifled the moan she felt rising inside of her.

“Are you sore?” he asked as he kissed one cheek then her jaw and then the other cheek.

“No.” She lied a bit, but she wasn’t about to stop what was sure to happen.

“You’re lying,” he said with a smile before he grazed her lips.

“Does it matter?” She returned his gesture with her own fleeting kiss.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” Peyton moved her thighs farther apart and moved her body so that the thick crest of his cock rested at her entrance. She was wet and she saw his breathing change when he realized it as well. She disgusted herself. Two seconds ago she was twirling the thoughts of knocking his block off for using her body for sex and now that same body and mind were melting with his touch.

“Peyton,” he groaned when her lips connected with his neck and her teeth raked the sensitive spot below his jaw.

“Hmmm?” was all she replied.

“I don’t have any more condoms.” That stopped her movements. She pulled her head and her mouth away from his body and looked into his eyes. “I used them all last night.”

What to say? They hadn’t used anything in the barn, but they had every time last night. There was no chance of her getting pregnant. She’d gone on the pill when she and Carter had started dating—not that it had mattered. She could probably count on two hands how many times she and Carter had been together the entire time they had been a couple, and he had always worn a condom as well. With Brent hard in between her legs, it was hardly the time for her to bring up her and Carter’s sex life or lack thereof. She finally said the only thing that mattered.

“I’m on the pill.” Her words seemed breathless. She knew why. He was inches—not even—away from being buried inside of her and she wanted nothing more than to feel her muscles stretch and conform to his length and width. There was nothing better in this world than that feeling. She watched as his face changed and his fear turned hard and full of concentration.

“Since when?”

“About three years.”

“Three years?” His face still held its mask of thought. She nodded and waited—it was all she could do. “That’s another change.”

“Another change? What was the first one?”

His features slowly shifted, and instead of the deep frown and furrowed brow, his mouth slipped into a small smile and his eyes softened. “You used to like to be on top.” His words shocked her almost as much as when he took one thrust and was buried to the hilt inside of her. In unison, they both moaned and stilled as their bodies shifted and accepted each other.

Slowly and with the greatest care, he began to move. Her swollen and used muscles objected at first but for only a moment. With every thrust her passage became more coated with desire, as did his dick. Her muscles still screamed, but it was in pleasure and far from pain. “So you don’t like being on top anymore?” he asked just before he took her lips and pumped harder and with more force and passion.

She couldn’t think. There were so many things going on in her mind and her body. She wanted to wrap her legs around his hips and hold on as he pumped deep inside of her. She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and hold his lips to hers as their tongues and their bodies mated. She wanted to stop all of the naughtiness and question his true motives for being here in the first place. She wanted so many things at this one time that she couldn’t have, but all he wanted was an answer.

“I do. I just—” She broke when his rhythm and depth changed. Instead of the deep and long thrusts she had been receiving, she now was the recipient of shallow and fast pumps.

“Just what?” He embedded himself into her. Her pussy clenched and tried to hold him there for a minute, only a minute, but he refused. He pulled away slowly and then returned just as slowly.

“Just…out of practice is all.” She thought that other truth would stop him dead in his tracks, or his thrusts as it were, but it didn’t. With one move, Brent changed their positions, landing her on top of him. Her hands splayed against his chest as she pushed her body away from his and put herself in a completely seated position. With each inch she moved, his dick was pushed higher and deeper into her body.

When she was finally seated comfortably, and she could feel every inch of him, she moved. Her hips lifted and lowered slowly at first. She loved to surround him. He did as well. Brent’s breathing had changed and each time she descended she heard a slight hiss of breath escape his body.

“You don’t seem out of practice,” he mentioned in between his moans of pleasure. His hands came to rest on her hips, but they didn’t move her. He let her set her own pace, his pace, their pace. “Peyton,” he whispered.

“I like that,” she said, before increasing her speed and depth.

“What’s that?” he managed to utter from behind his clenched teeth.

“My name coming out of your mouth.” She brought her knees in closer to his body and took total control of their lovemaking. Her rhythm was constant and full of intent. She wanted to come. She could feel the urge building low in her belly and threatening to tear her apart from inside.

She needed that.

She needed to come.

She needed him.

Soft, broken pants escaped her mouth, and she let her head fall back and her long hair caress his thighs she sat on. From the corner of her eye, she caught their reflection in the mirror. With her head thrown back, her breasts thrust forward and her body lifting and lowering with practiced moves, they looked wanton, they looked desirable, and they looked right.

“You like to watch now?” His question made her break her gaze with herself in the mirror in order to answer.