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I pointed toward the kitchen, and with curious looks at their boss, Cory and Hope both filed in that direction, presumably to get the glasses of wine they all looked like they needed.
"I, um...I'm just going to go change," Brandon said dazedly, and without another word, tromped up the stairs, pulling off his tie as he went.
I stood at the bottom, watching him go and wondering what had just happened. Then I snapped out of it and followed.
I found him in our bedroom, sitting on the bed, hands on his knees with his eyes closed.
"Hey," I said as I entered. "You okay?"
Brandon blinked his weary eyes open and smiled.
"Yeah," he said as he stood up. He turned to the bureau and started undressing. "It's just been a really long day, Red."
"Is this okay?" I asked. Brandon's back was to me while he stripped off his jacket and dress shirt. I tried not to be distracted by the bulging muscles of his strong shoulders. "That everyone is here? I should have mentioned it this morning. Or yesterday."
Brandon turned around, and I was shocked to find an unbearably sweet expression on his handsome face.
"Why should you be sorry?" he wondered. "I was surprised, that's all. I'm the asshole––I had forgotten about Thanksgiving. Anyway, I'm glad everyone is here. It's...nice."
Quickly, I crossed the room and put my arms around his waist. Brandon set his chin atop my head and played his big hands up and down my back.
"I'm glad you think so," I said before I pressed a kiss into the divot between his pecs. "My family is your family too."
My chin was tipped up by one hand, and Brandon looked down at me thoughtfully.
"Is that so?" he asked softly before covering my mouth with his. His tongue twisted delicately around mine. "You taste like red wine," he said as his hands slid down my waist, past the elastic waistband of my leggings. "And fuck me, you're not wearing any underwear."
His mouth found my neck, and his tongue twirled around the sensitive spot just below my ear. A finger slipped between my legs and into the warmth there.
"Jesus, you're wet too," Brandon said with a brief nip to my earlobe.
His finger continued its sweet torture while the other hand at my hip kept me stilled against his efforts. I tipped my head back up to the ceiling while his lips worked some magical voodoo at my neck.
"You think our family can wait while I screw my gorgeous fiancée?" Brandon murmured as a second finger joined the first. His thumb brushed over my clit, and my hips jerked in response. "Because that is what I need after this shitty day."
"Ummmmm," I muttered, too caught up in his deft touch to answer.
Suddenly, within a few seconds, his fingers withdrew, my leggings were yanked down to my ankles, and I was hoisted up onto a dresser. My bare legs dangled on either side of Brandon's waist as he quickly stripped off the rest of his clothes. His erection bobbed between us, rubbing between my legs over the sensitive spot that had me arching into his tall form while he wrapped a hand around the back of my neck and kissed me senseless.
"Shhhh," he said as I started to whimper. He finally found my entrance, just enough to make me moan again. "Hush," he said, and covered my lips with his as he pushed all the way in.
"Uh!" I garbled against his mouth, squirming against the sudden intrusion.
Brandon just continued to rock into me, one hand clenched onto my thigh, the other at the nape of my neck as he moved, twisting slightly to find the friction between his hip bone and my most sensitive spot. It didn't take long before I was already starting to clench around him––for whatever reason, we were both clearly dying for this.
"Not a sound, Red," he gritted out as he started to move faster.
The dresser bumped slightly against the wall, and I held onto his shoulders for dear life.
"Fuck," Brandon said in between several more torrid kisses. He drew back, and rammed into me again and again, going deeper with every thrust. "Not. A. Word. Red. You want to scream? You do it in my mouth."
His tongue turned over mine mercilessly while he pounded into me. My fingers sought purchase on any part of him I could––his hair, his fingernails scratching into his back in a way that only made him arch and thrust into me even harder.
"Ch-christ," Brandon stuttered into my mouth. The hand at my thigh squeezed harder, and his movements increased. "I'm s-so close, babe. Are you––can you––com––oh, shit!"
A torrent of profanity escaped Brandon's mouth as my body suddenly squeezed around him. I squealed and bit into his shoulder as I came, and then he covered my mouth with his to shutter my cries, his hips working once, twice, three more times until he was able to bite my lower lip and groan as he emptied himself into me.
"Jesus," he whispered as he came back to himself.
It took me a solid ten seconds before I stopped seeing stars. "Yeah."
Brandon pressed a slow kiss to my forehead before he pulled away with a sheepish smile. We could hear noises of the gathering downstairs filtering up the stairwell––the clang of spoons on dishes, the occasional jeer at the television. I flushed.
"Thank you," Brandon said as he buried his face into my hair. "That was exactly what I needed."
I didn't say anything, just held the arms wrapped so tightly around my waist. There was a part of me now that just wanted to say screw dinner and kick everyone out for the night.
"Come on, Red," Brandon said as he pulled away, although he captured one of my hands and tugged me off the bureau. "Better get back downstairs. The natives are restless."
~
