Reveal (A Wild Nights Novel) (20 page)

Brad spotted me and smiled, slowing his pace as he made his way up from the water’s edge to where I was standing. “Morning,” he said, wrapping his arm around my back and pulling me to him for a kiss.

“Morning,” I replied, smiling up at him when his lips separated from mine. “Fancy seeing you here.” I gave him a cheeky wink.

“I would’ve run to Brisbane had you been there.”

I blushed.
Yeah, freakin’ blushed, and I never blush.
“Aw … so sweet. Lucky for you I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, because I would’ve dropped dead once I got there.”

“Oh come on, it’s not
that
far.”

He fired me an are-you-fucking-kidding-me look, one eyebrow raised, lips mildly pursed.

I laughed. “So what’s your plan for today?”

Brad traced his finger over my collarbone while staring at the invisible design he was creating. “Well, I’m going to run back to the hotel with you, then we’re gonna fuck in my room, have a shower, fuck in the shower, and get dried. I’ll take you out for breakfast but we’ll still be hungry afterward, so I’ll feed you my cock while I eat your pussy, and then I have rehearsals before the show tonight.” He finally looked up and met my stunned gaze. “What about you?”

Ohhhh, I don’t know. Maybe some knitting.

I swallowed dryly then performed the same finger-tracing-eye-diverting move that he had. “Um … first I’m going to run back to the hotel where you’ll drag me to your room. You’ll try to fuck me but I’ll put up a fight. It will be rough and hot, and you’ll finally get your way. We’ll shower and I’ll force you down on your knees so I can ride your face. You’ll enjoy it and palm your cock for me while you swallow everything I give you. We’ll get dried and I’ll lie on the bed, exhausted. But you’ll take that opportunity to deep-throat me, and I’ll pretend that I didn’t plan for it to happen. Then we’ll go out for breakfast, talk about random things, get to know each other a little better and discuss what happens when I leave tomorrow.” I looked up and found his heavy-lidded blue eyes. I smiled. “Deal?”

He nodded. “Deal.”

***

By the time we got back to the hotel, the two of us were breathless, flushed, and damp with perspiration.

“This is me,” I said happily, as the
ding
of the elevator sounded. The old couple standing in front of us moved aside to let me out, so I smiled and moved passed them, waving to Brad over my shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”

Quickly turning the corner, I rushed toward my room, knowing he’d be right on my tail—or at least hoping he would.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he called out from behind me.

I turned, squealing when I saw him running after me. I was doomed … in a good way.
Excellent!

Big, strong, inked arms encased my body and spun me around, lifting me up and hauling me over his shoulder. “We had a deal, sexy pixie.”

“Yes, we did, and I’m delivering.” I laughed and slapped his arse.

A playful growl escaped his throat before he turned the handle of the door that led to the stairwell. “So am I.”

Brad carried me up two flights of stairs, entered the seventh floor, and headed down the hallway toward his room.

“How do you know Josh isn’t there?” I asked, fiddling with the hem of his shorts.

“I don’t. He did mention going to see Cori, though, so if he’s not doing that he can fucking well do it now … or watch us. I don’t really care.”

My ears pricked, and I tried to correct my upside-down position by stiffening my body and lifting. “You don’t care if he watches? Are you into that sort of thing?”

Brad slapped my arse. “I wouldn’t say I’m into it.” He stopped by the door and swiped his card. “But I’m not against it either.”

“Hmm …” I liked the kinky side to him and looked forward to exploring and playing with it.

“Hmm … what?” He entered the room and gently launched me off his shoulder and onto one of the beds.

I bounced a couple of times before coming to rest flat on my back, Brad standing by my feet and eyeing me hungrily.

“Nothing. I was just wondering what else you were into.”

“You.” He grabbed my ankles and wrenched me toward him, keeping hold of them and spreading my legs apart.

I squealed at the shock of it, but then remained impassive. “Besides me.”

“I’m about to
get into
that,” he said resolutely, motioning toward my pussy with his head.

“Says who?”

“Me.”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, pretending to be bored. “That’s what you think.”

He chuckled deviously. “You’re not in a position to argue.”

“Again, that’s what you think.” I quickly barrel-rolled onto my stomach, forcing his arms and hands to cross over before breaking their hold on me. When I felt their release, I scrambled up the bed and turned around, facing him on all fours, a conceited smile lifting my cheeks. “You still confident that
getting into me
is gonna happen?”

Brad didn’t take long to recover from his surprise, slowly moving to the side of the bed. I backed up and lowered my feet to the ground, standing on the opposite side to him.

“More than confident,” he answered, adjusting his erection. “I’ll have your naked hips in my hands and your arse pressed against me in less than a minute.”

The very visual of him grinding into me from behind flashed across my mind, distracting me from his advance over the bed. I screamed and went to run away but he grabbed me, hugging my back to his chest.

“It’s no use,” he whispered into my ear, his hot breath a delicious curse upon my skin.

Brad’s hand slid down my side, hooked into the hem of my shorts and underwear, and pushed them down my legs, stepping us to the edge of the bed and guiding my body onto the mattress.

I turned my head in his direction, resting my cheek on the crisp white linen of the sheet. One of his arms was tucked between my chest and the bed, and the other was fumbling behind me, the sound of a condom wrapper tearing.

Our eyes held steadfast on each other’s, except for his momentary glimpses at his cock while he put the condom on. The amorous look he wore was intense, but I could also see a slither of caution in the way he scanned my face, waiting for me to object, knowing that the game we were playing toed a very thin line.

I wasn’t going to object. Hell no. So I smiled my appreciation, wanting him to know I enjoyed it as much as he was. He smiled back, and oh my fucking God, the man was beyond sexy. And yeah, I’d thought this many times before, but the position we were currently in, and with that look of lust and excitement on his face, he was undoubtedly the sexiest son-of-a-bitch I’d ever laid eyes on. Clean-cut, yet oozing virility from the pores of his sweat-covered skin. I wanted to lick it, to lick him … all over. I wanted to clasp his plump bottom lip between my teeth, suck it into my mouth and—

“Ohhhh … fuck,” I moaned, his finger sliding into my pussy.

Brad captured my mouth with his and slid his arm out from underneath us. I released both of my arms, but he separated our kiss and grabbed them, securing them behind my back.

I giggled. “Oooh, kinky.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, baby.”

He slid his finger out of me and replaced it with the tip of his cock, pressing into my entrance just mildly.

I tried to coax him in farther by moving back against him, but his hold on my hands prevented any control I attempted to gain. “Do it. Fuck me,” I begged. “Please.”

Brad pushed inside, grasped my hip and began thrusting wildly. I groaned, low, long and loud, savouring the feeling of being restrained and fucked in a dirty way.

“Oh … G-g-goddddd,” I stuttered, my voice jerking with the thrusting of my body.

He was so hard, so deep, so vigorous, and I felt every inch of him as he pistoned into me. It was a raw type of pleasure, one that had my eyes rolling back and my eyelids fluttering until they fell shut, sated.

Brad let go of my hip and grabbed a fist full of my hair, tugging gently but with enough force to coerce my eyes open again, this time wider than before. “Am I putting you to sleep?” he asked, an edge of warning in his tone.

“No,” I rasped. “You’re fucking me into a euphoric coma.”

He grunted and leaned back, guiding me to stand by lightly tugging my hair and the arm he held against my spine. I complied. Had no choice, really. But I was more than happy with the change of position, his cock now impaling me and forcing a sharp, loud cry of pleasure from my throat. 

Brad let go of my arm and wrapped his around me, settling his left hand on my right breast. He also abandoned the grip on my hair, choosing to lift my right leg and direct my foot onto the bed instead. It opened me up, bare and unashamed, my clit desperate for his touch.

Lifting his foot and placing it on the bed next to mine, Brad’s sturdy frame kept us balanced while he continued to drive in and out of me. I turned my head and tilted back just slightly, seeking his mouth, thirsty for the taste of him. The grip on my leg disappeared and a new one formed, his fingers clasping my jaw and holding my head in place while kissing me passionately.
Wow!
He was the epitome of chivalrous dominance; fuck hard and filthy but be nice about it. Equal parts gentleman and beast. Equal parts give and take.

He was bedroom perfect.

Our bodies rocked in perfect harmony, slow hips, pressed lips, the hum of two becoming one an erotic melody filling the room. Brad composed my body as if it were an instrument and he the musician. Tuning, stroking … playing. But when he rapidly strummed my clit with his finger, my body crescendoed and sung the sweet lyrics of my orgasm.

It was music to my ears.

“Fuck. Fuck. Oh fuuuuuuck.”

“I could fucking listen to and watch you come all day,” he murmured in my ear, his mouth a hot trail down my neck.

Brad let go of my chest and coaxed me to lean forward over the bed. He grabbed my hip and placed his other hand on my arse as he continued to drill me. The brief touch of his thumb feathered my arsehole, and I automatically tensed. I knew what I wanted, though. My arse didn’t. So I pushed back against him, inviting what he wanted to give me.

Leaning over my body, Brad traced his thumb over my bottom lip. “You want this to fuck your arse?”

“Yes,” I moaned.

“Then make it nice and wet for me.”

I opened my mouth and sucked his thumb inside, licking and swirling my tongue all over it. He pulled it back out and stood up, repositioning it over my arsehole and lightly pressing the tip inside.

I gasped.

He pushed in farther.

I moaned.

He pushed in all the way.

And matching the tempo of his thumb to the tempo of his cock, he brought us both to orgasm, our harmonious melody now a cacophony of grunts and groans.

Again, it was music to my ears.

A deal was a deal, therefore Brad and I both delivered, fucking in the shower after the fuckfest on the bed. To say I was giddy over the connection the two of us shared would be a slight understatement, because I was borderline delirious. We just meshed so incredibly well on every level.

He performed. I performed. He was a smartarse. I was a smartarse. He liked to keep fit. I liked to keep fit. He liked Chocolate Royals. I liked Tim Tams. He got women off with his body. I got men off with my words. The list went on.

“Okay, rugby, soccer, or football?” I asked, popping a fried cherry tomato into my mouth.

“Footy.”

“Yeah, me too,” I mumbled, wiping my lips with a napkin. “What team do you barrack for?”

“The Hawks. You?” Brad forked an entire piece of bacon into his mouth. It was the third one.

“The Saints.”

He nodded. “Makes sense. You live in St Kilda, right?”

“Yeah. What about you? You’re not too far from me, are you?”

“No. Noah and I live in Brighton.”

“You live with your brother?” I raised my eyebrows, surprised, even though I shouldn’t have been. They were twins, after all.

“Believe it or not, we don’t see each other much at home. It’s good.”

I nodded and sipped from my straw, the sweet, crisp taste of freshly squeezed apple juice splashing into my mouth.
Mm … yummy.

Brad and I were seated in a beachside café, the walls made up of bi-fold glass doors, which were open, allowing a light but humid breeze to filter through. The décor comprised of white cane furniture with nautical-themed upholstery, and wall decorations in colours of yellow and pale blue. It was all very abstract, and the food was incredible.

“So what’s it like being a twin?”

He leaned back on his chair and threaded his hands together, resting them on his head. “I don’t know. What’s it like not being a twin?”

I stared at him. “You’re seriously going to be a smartarse after I let you thumb-fuck my arse?”

Loud laughter burst out of him, and he nearly rocked his chair completely backwards.

“What?” I mumbled, munching on my last tomato. “It was a legit question.”

“And my response was a legit answer.”

I shook my head. “Whatever. Your turn.”

“Books or movies?”

“Books,” I said quickly, cutting off a piece of my ciabatta. “Okay, what about beer or spirits?”

“Beer. Any bloke that says spirits needs his dick checked.”

“So you’re saying spirits are a girl’s drink?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Except I’m saying that beer is a man’s drink.”

I craned my neck to look at his plate, pointing at his cherry tomatoes. “You gonna eat those?”

“No. They’re all yours.” He forked one and held it to my mouth. I danced a seat-jig, closing my lips around it and sliding it onto my tongue. I loved cherry tomatoes and had my own plant in a pot on the balcony at home.
Which reminds me, I hope Mrs Lockwood from unit seven watered it like I asked her to.
Tommy the Tomato Plant had been growing on my balcony all summer and was producing some of the yummiest tomatoes I’d ever eaten, so I would be devastated if she’d forgotten to give him a drink.

He was a very good plant.

“Can I have my fork back now?”

“What?” I snapped out of my daze, realising I’d only just let go of his fork. “Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about something back at home.”

“Yeah? What about?” He forked another tomato, except this time the prongs of his fork didn’t pierce the skin, therefore sending it catapulting from his plate and onto the floor.

We watched it roll into the middle of an adjacent walkway between our table and the table beside us, before meeting each other’s eyes and then looking back at the tomato.

“Five-second rule!” Brad sprang from his chair, pushing it back and lunging toward the fallen red morsel, collecting it in his hand and shoving it in front of my face. “Quick! It’s still safe.”

“No!” I laughed, pushing it away. “And anyway, it’s the three-second rule, not five.”

“Wrong. It’s always been five.” He put the tomato in a napkin and scrunched it up, moving it aside.

“Five seconds is far too long. Three is plenty enough.”

“Well, I reckon it was safe. I got to it fairly quickly.”

“Brad, it was covered in sand.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “So what? Doesn’t sand have calcium?”

“I don’t know, but what I do know is the sand covering that tomato was more than likely walked in here, and if it was walked in here, it travelled on the bottom of someone’s shoe. Now correct me if I’m wrong, but shoes walk on some pretty fucking feral surfaces: bathroom floors, dog-shit-covered grass … need I go on?”

“Point taken. I won’t eat sand unless it’s on the beach,” he mumbled, shovelling his last rasher of bacon into his mouth.

“How ’bout you don’t eat sand at all? How ’bout if you’re hungry, you eat me instead?” I waggled my eyebrows and winked, pressing my thighs together and recalling the moment he’d dropped to his knees in the shower, hooked my leg over his shoulder, and let me ride the fuck out of his mouth.

Brad’s eyes flared with recognition, and I’d no doubt his thoughts mirrored my own—the lick of his lips strengthening my case. “I’m gonna miss your pussy,” he said seriously.

I looked down at my plate and toyed with a mushroom, pushing it around with my fork. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of pussy on tap.”

“I will.”

Hearing him say that sent a chill waving through my body and bile rising to my throat. Just the thought of him with another woman made me sick to my stomach, but what could I do? I had no claim over him once I flew back to Melbourne. In fact, I had no claim over him at all.

“Em, look at me.”

Fuck, I didn’t want to, because the moment I did I would struggle to fight back tears. I wanted him to be mine and mine only, to be exclusive with me despite being apart. I wanted loyalty and for him to keep his tongue in his mouth, his hands to himself, and his dick in his pants when not on stage. It was selfish, I knew it, but it was what I wanted.

Raising my head, I met his stare, knowing whatever shield I possessed was transparent where he was concerned. “I’m not stupid, Brad. It is what it is. I go back to Melbourne tomorrow, and you continue touring for another two months. Women will throw themselves at you. Gorgeous women, young, provocative women … women who are more than happy to be fucked and chucked.” I picked up my glass and sipped my drink, my throat all of a sudden dry. “These past few days were really fun. I’ve had such a great time with you, Cori, and the rest of the guys, but especially you. I like you. I think you’re—”

“There will be pussy on tap, but I won’t be drinkin’,” he said, interrupting me. “I won’t be drinking because I’ve got a taste for yours. I don’t want anyone else’s. Just yours. And I’m willin’ to wait for it if you want me to.”

This time it was heat that waved through me, and a smile so great that I couldn’t speak.

“Yeah?” he asked, his smile just as big as mine.

I nodded quickly. “Yeah.”

We leaned forward and met mid-table for a kiss, his hands finding the sides of my face and holding me tenderly. I swear that no kiss was ever the same, as every moment that led to it differed. Thoughts, feelings and intent all shaped a kiss to be what it would be. A kiss was a story, told only by physical emotion, and the story Brad and I currently narrated was that of a new beginning.

Our
new beginning.

Our lips separated. His nose gently nudged mine, and we both pulled back and settled in our seats.

“So we’re doin’ this … this ‘us’ thing, yeah?” he asked, resting his fork prongs on the last tomato on his plate.

I flicked my sight to it and grinned greedily. “Yeah, we’re doin it. Right after you feed me that.”

He pressed his fork into the tomato, bursting it and spraying tomato seeds all over my arm and chest.

I sat there, stunned, staring at the tomato blow I was wearing. “Er … did that tomato just blow on me?” To be honest, I wasn’t a fan of wearing blow. Any blow. Not even tomato-blow.

“Here,” he said, shoving the seedless tomato in my mouth. “It’s done. We’re doin’ it. You’re mine.”

I looked up while chewing my new mouthful, but he deliberately looked down, avoiding my gaze, his shoulders wracking with silent laughter.
Yeah, it’s definitely done. And, you, my sexy, tomato-squirting surfer, are all mine.

***

Shortly after Brad and I’d left the beachside café, we’d returned to the hotel only to find Cori incredibly hungover and sick with Josh by her side, holding her hair away from her face while she vomited into the toilet. She’d always been a terrible drinker and even worse at recovery. I didn’t know why she continually insisted on emotional-drinking in the first place, as she always suffered for it. Regardless, I’d hated seeing her so miserable, so Brad and I had headed back out to pick her up some remedies—a Big Mac and large Coke.

It hadn’t worked.

Made her vomit even more.

That had been our cue to leave her to sleep it off, so we spent the rest of the day by the pool.

“What time are rehearsals?” I asked, performing suntan-rotation number-four by rolling onto my stomach.

Brad rolled to his side and rested his head on his hand, propped up by his elbow. “Just under an hour away. Why? You want a quickie before I go?” He slowly trailed his finger up the back of my leg. It tickled. 

“No.” I squirmed and giggled but then gave him my not-so-serious serious face. “My vagina is sleeping and is known to be quite dangerous when woken unexpectedly.”

“I’m sure she won’t mind me waking her.”

“Actually, I reckon you’re right. I think she likes you.”

“Likes me? She fucking loves me. Did you not see how tight she held onto me after lunch? She didn’t want to let go.”

“Well, you did make her very happy … twice.”

“She deserved it.”

“Look, you could try waking her, but remember, I did warn you.”

“Warning noted. Let’s go!” He jumped up quickly and swung his towel over his shoulders.

I looked up, shielding the sun from my eyes. “I was kidding.”

“I wasn—”

My phone chimed Cori’s message tone, interrupting us. I swiped it open to find a series of sad faces.

Cori:

“This can’t be good,” I said aloud before typing back to her.

Em: Someone is happy!

Cor: Ha ha. I feel awful.

Em: Did awful like it?

Cori: Stop it. I really do feel shit.

Em: Now that’s just disgusting.

We can’t be friends if you do that.

She didn’t answer me, so I stopped fooling around with her and quickly sent her another message.

Em: Okay. I’m sorry. You’re feeling crap.

But honestly, what did you expect?