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“Yeah. Brooklyn...BK.”
“So, you’re giving me a nickname?”
He nodded. “Mm-hmm. How old are you?”
“Twenty.”
“You want me to fuck you.”
It was a statement rather than a question. I wasn’t shy about sex and was already far from a virgin, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer him. Hell, he knew my answer anyway.
“I’m thirty. You’re too young.”
I found my voice and challenged, “I’m well past the age of consent.”
“True, but if I fuck you, you’re going to expect more from me. If I fuck you, I won’t be your man. I ain’t looking for relationships or love, but I will make you feel good. That’s a promise.”
A shiver slid down my spine as I had no doubt he would do just that. “I’m not a virgin. You think you’d be the first man I’ve casually fucked? Well, you won’t. You won’t be the last either.”
He was on his feet now, towering over me, his gray eyes stormy. His gaze roamed my body. I was half dressed, or really, dressed for bed, but if he asked me, I’d lose my clothes in a hot second. Vann was just…I don’t know. He oozed masculinity and confidence and sex. Definitely sex.
In the blink of an eye, he’d invaded my personal space, his clean-smelling cologne pervading my senses. His tall, wide frame should’ve been intimidating. Well, it was intimidating, but in a good way. Like the getting choked and fucked at the same time kind of way.
“You nervous after talking all that big shit?” he asked, amusement in his eyes.
“No,” I said, and I wasn’t.
“Why you biting your lip like that and wringing your hands, then?”
My head dropped so that I could see my hands. Shit, Iwaswringing th—
His head dipped and his lips met mine as his big hand met my back, pulling my body into his. The kiss was slow, hot, and so damn good. It was so…controlled. He knew what he was doing and knew what it was doing to me.
And I liked it.
He took his mouth from mine, making me groan in protest. As he slid it down my chin to the hollow of my throat, I closed my eyes and clutched the back of his head, my fingers digging into his thick, silky hair. His hands traversed my body, gripping my breasts, gripping my ass, palming my pussy through my teeny-weeny shorts before sliding it inside to meet my bare pussy.
I panted, reaching down to touch him and finding hard steel through his jeans. As he began kissing me again, I fumbled below us to free his dick from his pants as he worked my shorts down over my hips. Somehow, while kissing and moaning and with an almost desperate sense of urgency, we managed to get rid of the bottom half of our clothes. After he quickly covered himself with a condom he’d dug out of his wallet, he lifted me from the floor, and I instinctually wrapped my legs around his waist. When he began moving us toward the door, my mouth dropped open. I wasn’t sure where he was taking me, but I also didn’t care. I was so on fire for this man, I would’ve fucked him in the middle of the student union.
My back hit the wall next to the door and he entered me, making me instantly sob his name because my pussy had never felt so deliciously, excruciatingly full in all my sexual life. And though I only had a few partners to compare him with, I’d already declared him the best by the second stroke. God, he felt good and stroke by stroke, thrust by thrust, I began to amend my assessment, becoming inexplicably aware of the fact that no matter who I fucked or who fucked me in the future, nothing would ever compare to this.
Absolutely nothing.
I was hugging him so tightly around the neck, I thought maybe I was hurting him when he grunted, “Got damn.” But upon opening my eyes and looking into his, I saw a reflection of what I was feeling—awe. He was looking at me like I was his best, too. He kissed me again, thrusting faster and deeper, causing my back to slide up and down the wall rhythmically. Then it happened, an indescribable feeling, a consuming pressure began to build just south of my navel, swelling and compounding with each thrust Vann delivered, making me whimper. And when that pressure had reached capacity and I burst, my mouth went slack, my eyes filled with tears, and my head fell against the wall.
“That’s it. Cum for me, BK.”
I could hear him, but he sounded far away. Everything was hazy and fuzzy as my heart pounded and breaths rushed from my mouth.
Then his thrusts grew frantic as he moved from the wall, tightly gripping me at the waist, lifting me and dropping me onto his dick. I cried out, my insides churning. The pressure was back, building and building and building until we both grunted our releases.
Minutes later, we were in the tiny bathroom cleaning up, stealing kisses and giggling. Well, I was giggling. Vann just grinned. Once we were finished, I walked him to the door where he offered me another kiss that felt like the commitment he’d sworn he wasn’t interested in.
VANN
I didn’t want a relationship. I wasn’t looking for love. I didn’t lie to Brooklyn when I told her that. I had too much internal shit going on to be held responsible for a woman’s heart. I didn’t understand me well enough to try to understand anyone else. I was too confused about my worth when my father worked overtime, nights, and weekends to keep my existence a secret. He was ashamed of my blackness and consequently, I embraced it in an almost obsessive way. I needed therapy and I knew it but opted to work my stuff out on my own. The world was my therapist. Seats on planes and hotel room beds served as the couch. The office? The countless bars and nightclubs I’d visited in search of the one thing I loved as much as my mom and sister—music, which was my medication.
But I could admit that she’d stirred something inside of me.Shebeing Brooklyn. I didn’t even know her last name, didn’t care to know it either, but I couldn’t get her off my mind. I could still hear her whimpers and moans, could still smell her fresh out of the shower scent, could still feel her tight wetness. She was so damn young, though, and she was my little sister’s best friend.
