Spoiled Brat: Bonus Chapter

Her dad texted her at noon. Flight at five, home tomorrow by lunch.

She forwarded it to me and wrote, “One night. Come early.”

I showed up with groceries and a bottle of wine we didn’t finish. We cooked, steak and salad and potatoes, nothing fancy. She stood close while I sliced, shoulder pressed to mine. We ate at the island, no TV, no phones. She said, “I missed your morning pancakes,” and I said, “I missed your lists,” and she laughed and shook her head.

“You missed quiet hour?” I said.

She nodded and set the timer on the stove. We didn’t talk. We didn’t need it. She sat on my lap and gently grinded her soft bum against me. When I went to tell her how hot she was, she put a finger to my lips and shook her head, reminding me that we weren’t allowed to talk for the hour.

She kept grinding, making me harder and harder. Pre-cum leaked through my boxers. I was worried she was going to make me cum in my pants. 

When the buzzer went off, she reached across and took my hand.

“One night,” she said. “No fights, no plans. Just us.”

“Just us,” I said.

We rinsed the plates, left them in the rack, and walked the yard once with the dog. The sky was clear. The hot tub hummed. She looked at it, then at me.

“Hot tub later,” she said. “But… I want you in my room first.”

“Okay,” I said.

Her room was clean, clothes folded, a candle on the dresser but not lit. The room wasn’t as messy as the first day I went there to house sit. Maybe she had finally learned to clean up after herself. 

She closed the door and leaned against it, hair down, plain black dress that hit mid-thigh, no shoes, just her cute feet. I stood there and let myself look. A month had made her steadier. It had made me steady too.

“Come here,” she said.

I went. She put her hands on my jaw and kissed me like there were no clocks, no timers. I felt my whole body answer. I set my hands at her waist and waited. She nodded against my mouth.

“Touch me,” she said.

I slid my palms under the dress and found warm skin. I felt her again, the lines, the places that made her breathe harder, the spots that needed me. She pulled my shirt up and I lifted my arms. She kissed down my chest, then back up to my mouth like she couldn’t stand to be away. I pressed her to the wall, not hard, just enough to feel her weight. She wrapped her legs around me and held on.

“Bed,” she said.

We fell onto it and laughed once, low, then stopped laughing because we were done playing. I kissed her neck and she arched into me. I asked, “Here?” and she said, “Yes.” I asked, “More?” and she said, “Yes.” She pulled the dress over her head and tossed it aside. I took a breath and told her she was beautiful as I stared at her breasts, which looked a bit bigger than the last time I saw them. Maybe they were, from the hormones. 

She didn’t look away this time.

“Your turn,” she said, and dragged my shorts down with both hands. I helped her. We were careful with each other and messy with everything else. I went down on her because I wanted to, because I knew what it did to her, because the sound she made when I ran my tongue up her throbbing length. I loved how hard she got. I loved how her tip would gush little beads of pre-cum that trickled down her shaft and into her soft trimmed pubic hair. She fisted the sheet and said my name. 

She pushed my shoulder and pulled me up, kissed me hard, and slid her hand around me.

“You ready?” I said.

“Yes,” she said. “Please.”

I pressed into her and everything went quiet. She clung to me, mouth open, eyes on mine. I moved slow and steady until I felt her open more for me, unclenching, then set a rhythm we both could hold. She cupped my face and watched me, then closed her eyes and let it carry her.

Then, when I pulled out, she did a little shimmy to reposition: now with her cock pressing against my asshole. I took a deep breath. I knew it would feel weird at first. It always felt a bit weird at first, but I knew pleasure came fast. 

She pushed into me.

She pushed deep, for the first time using every inch she had. I felt the whole thing, throbbing violently inside of me. I heard her moan. I felt myself stretching.

I didn’t last long—and neither did she.

We came close together, bodies locked, hands tight. I let go first and buried my face in her neck, shaking a little, saying her name into her skin. She followed with a low sound that came from somewhere deep. My legs locked around her back. It was a bit of a feminine pose to be in, but I liked it, and so did she. She was deep inside of me.  

Then it was quiet again.

After, we lay on our sides, noses almost touching. I brushed her hair back. She traced a finger from my temple to my chin.

“One night,” she said.

“We’ll get more,” I said.

“We’ll make more,” she said.

We showered, steam fogging the mirror, door half open. She washed my hair because she liked to, nails scratching my scalp. I rested my forehead on her shoulder and let my hands hold her hips. We towelled off and put on soft clothes, her in a big T-shirt, me in shorts. She lit the candle and turned off the light.

“Hot tub?” I said.

“Five minutes,” she said. “Then back here.”

We sat across from each other in the water, knees bumping, steam ghosting off our shoulders. She slid a foot up my calf, then stopped herself and smiled, smug and tender all at once. We talked. I watched her hands move while she spoke.

I thought, This is it. This is exactly what I want. 

Back in her room we didn’t hurry. We lay on the bed and traded small things, stories we hadn’t told yet. She told me about a teacher who had used the wrong name last year and how she walked out, then walked back in and made them fix it. I told her about the night my dad left when I was twelve and how I didn’t cry until I got to the garage. She put her palm on my chest and kept it there until words were easy again.

“Stay,” she said.

“For the night?” I said.

“For the night,” she said.

I texted Mark. “House is good,” I wrote. “See you at lunch.” He sent back a thumbs-up. No lecture. No trap.

We killed the candle and slid under the covers. She threw a leg over me and tucked her face into my neck. The dog thumped once in the hall and went quiet. I listened to her breath even out, then slow again when I shifted and pulled her closer.

“I love you,” she said into the dark.

My heart kicked hard. I didn’t flinch. “I love you,” I said.

She smiled against my skin. I felt it.

She fucked me again, this time more gentle. My hole was tender from the first time. She pulled out and came on me, because she insisted that I would ‘like it’. And honestly… I did like it. There was something weirdly satisfying about having a warm gushing spewing across my chest. One blast even got my lip. I licked it up, remembering how sweet she was.

Then we slept.

At dawn I made coffee and brought it back to her bed. She sat up, hair wild, eyes pleased, sheet wrapped around her messily. I sat on the edge and handed her the mug. She took a sip and chased it with a kiss.

“One night,” she said again, softer now.

“One night here… and then you can sneak out and come to my place.”

“I’m an adult,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I don’t need to sneak out.”

“I know. But it’s more fun that way.”

She grinned.