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When I refuse to look up, he pinches my chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting it for me until we're eye to eye.
"I'll sleep on the couch if that makes you happy."
But that won't make me happy. Because I would feel guilty for kicking him out of his bed. But I'm also scared to be this close to him. I feel everything right now. The burn of his fingers against my skin. The ache between my legs being this close to him. But mainly, it's my head and heart that are battling for the top spot. Both are throbbing in pain.
"Can I please have some aspirin?"
Brady stands, releasing my chin, and moves past me. I hear his door open and close. Moments later, he returns with a bottle of water and two tablets of aspirin. Handing them to me, he crawls back in bed and pats the spot next to him, holding the sheet up so I can get under.
I'm exhausted and not in the mood to fight, so I lay back down, hugging the edge of the bed, attempting to stay as far away from Brady as possible. When his hand snakes around my waist and pulls me close, wrapping me in his warmth, the ice around my heart melts without my permission.
"Sleep, dove. We can talk about why you hate me in the morning. Until then, let me hold you."
Falling asleep in Brady's arms is easy. Waking up in them, remembering more of what happened last night, how I threw myself at him, is harder.
I try to slip out of his grasp without waking him, but he holds me tighter. My second attempt wakes him, and he rolls on top of me, caging me in. His eyelids are still heavy from sleep, but the rest of his body is awake. When he settles between my thighs, rubbing his morning erection against me, I place my hand on his chest to push him away.
Instead, I pull him closer, wrapping my legs around his waist.
"Best way to wake up," Brady mumbles as he dips his head, placing kisses against my neck.
"We can't do this."
"I bet we can." Thrusting against me, he proves his point when the tip of his dick pushes inside me along with the material of the shorts that are separating him from sliding all the way in. "But we're not going to."
He thrusts again, making me wonder if he's lying. Because it sure as hell feels like we're going to do this. It's not like we haven't done it before. Multiple times.
Instead of thrusting a third time, Brady pulls away completely, sitting on his knees between my legs, and reaches into his shorts, releasing his thick cock, stroking himself as he stares down at me.
"Why are you mad at me, dove?"
"What?" My eyes are glued to the purple head of his dick in fascination as he continues to stoke himself.
"What did I do?"
"Oh," I hear myself say. "You slept with someone else."
Brady's hand stops mid-stroke. When I glance up at him to see what is wrong, I find him staring down at me in shock.
"You found the nipple clamps. I put them with your condoms. Unless you needed a new condom, you wouldn't have found them. Which means you needed one. I wasn't here, but someone else must have been."
The shock wears off Brady's face, his hand once again stroking his cock, as a smirk slowly spreads across his face. I wait for him to deny the accusation, to explain why he was in that drawer. How he found the nipple clamps so quickly if he wasn't in need of a condom.
And when he does, I cover my face with my hands in mortification.
