against my bottom in a single, scorching swat that had me gasping and jumping up on my tiptoes. He didn’t give me a chance to say anything before he slipped away, taking my glass along with him.
Becky’s mouth dropped open. “What the hell was that about?”
“No idea,” I murmured, feeling waves of tingling sensation move up and down my ass as I watched him disappear into the crowd.
* * *
I somehow managed to sit down at the table with my family for dinner that night and pretended to be mostly normal even though I was pretty sure Brody’s handprint was embedded into the tender skin of my ass. It kept pulsing with a strange kind of heat that had little to do with pain anymore. My skin felt charged with it and it made me almost unbearably horny.
Still, my smile didn’t waver as I was asked to pass the peas and listened to Jonas talk about high school football—if it looked fake, no one seemed to notice. I gave monosyllabic answers to questions about the wedding and neatly dodged ones about who I’d seen. Surely they could see it on my face. My entire body was alert, waiting for even the slightest hint that any one of them sensed the arousal that was creeping over me.
“Shana, are you OK, hon? You look a little tired.”
I smiled at my mom and silently thanked her for the excuse. “You know, I am a little tired. Does anyone mind if I excuse myself? I think I’m going to go lie down.”
“Shana’s hung-over,” Jonas stage-whispered, cackling when I glared at him.
“For your information, twerp, you can’t be hung-over until—”
“Sure am glad I’m paying for you to go to med school,” Dad chimed in, speaking over my indignant retort and Jonas’s mocking laughter. “We need someone around here who can hand out sage advice like that.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed my chair back. I thanked Mom for the meal as I stood and was walking past when Dad put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
“Feel better, kiddo.”
I smiled gratefully and tried to walk normally to my bedroom. Once I’d shut the door behind me I did something I hadn’t done in the years since I’d been coming home—I locked it. Then I slid my dress off, unsnapped my bra and let it fall to the floor. I stepped out of the puddle of clothing and made my way to my bed. I sank down onto it gratefully, loving the feel of the cool sheets on my skin.
I closed my eyes and Brody was waiting for me in the shadows of my mind, looking deliciously handsome in the suit he’d worn to the wedding. I’d loved how his green tie had brought out the flecks in his eyes. Suddenly, I wished I’d told him. But an ex-girlfriend didn’t say things like that, did she? Especially not when he was seeing someone else? I shook my head, as if I could forget that part—it wouldn’t do to fantasize about someone who was taken, and I planned to fantasize to my heart’s content.
Inhaling deeply, I could swear I smelled the sandalwood scent of his skin, could hear him whispering ‘Shana’ in a way that made my fingers slide into my panties. I imagined him taking off that tie and ordering me to turn around. I would, without hesitation, because something inside me wanted nothing more than to yield on the occasions he got bossy. I could feel him crossing my arms behind my back before he looped the silk tie around my wrists and tied them together.
“What are you doing?” I’d ask, my voice a whimper.
“Keeping you where I want you,” he replied, his voice husky with power. “I just wish I had another to pull over your eyes.”
The thought was terrifying, but somehow exciting, too. My fingers slid into my pussy and I was shocked to find it was pulsating with a scorching heat. It only spurred me on, my digits slippery with my own juice as they worked to sate my lust—at least for the time being. Picturing Brody—his captivating eyes and that quick, boyish grin—made me groan as I worked feverishly for release.
I could picture him
Becky’s mouth dropped open. “What the hell was that about?”
“No idea,” I murmured, feeling waves of tingling sensation move up and down my ass as I watched him disappear into the crowd.
* * *
I somehow managed to sit down at the table with my family for dinner that night and pretended to be mostly normal even though I was pretty sure Brody’s handprint was embedded into the tender skin of my ass. It kept pulsing with a strange kind of heat that had little to do with pain anymore. My skin felt charged with it and it made me almost unbearably horny.
Still, my smile didn’t waver as I was asked to pass the peas and listened to Jonas talk about high school football—if it looked fake, no one seemed to notice. I gave monosyllabic answers to questions about the wedding and neatly dodged ones about who I’d seen. Surely they could see it on my face. My entire body was alert, waiting for even the slightest hint that any one of them sensed the arousal that was creeping over me.
“Shana, are you OK, hon? You look a little tired.”
I smiled at my mom and silently thanked her for the excuse. “You know, I am a little tired. Does anyone mind if I excuse myself? I think I’m going to go lie down.”
“Shana’s hung-over,” Jonas stage-whispered, cackling when I glared at him.
“For your information, twerp, you can’t be hung-over until—”
“Sure am glad I’m paying for you to go to med school,” Dad chimed in, speaking over my indignant retort and Jonas’s mocking laughter. “We need someone around here who can hand out sage advice like that.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed my chair back. I thanked Mom for the meal as I stood and was walking past when Dad put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
“Feel better, kiddo.”
I smiled gratefully and tried to walk normally to my bedroom. Once I’d shut the door behind me I did something I hadn’t done in the years since I’d been coming home—I locked it. Then I slid my dress off, unsnapped my bra and let it fall to the floor. I stepped out of the puddle of clothing and made my way to my bed. I sank down onto it gratefully, loving the feel of the cool sheets on my skin.
I closed my eyes and Brody was waiting for me in the shadows of my mind, looking deliciously handsome in the suit he’d worn to the wedding. I’d loved how his green tie had brought out the flecks in his eyes. Suddenly, I wished I’d told him. But an ex-girlfriend didn’t say things like that, did she? Especially not when he was seeing someone else? I shook my head, as if I could forget that part—it wouldn’t do to fantasize about someone who was taken, and I planned to fantasize to my heart’s content.
Inhaling deeply, I could swear I smelled the sandalwood scent of his skin, could hear him whispering ‘Shana’ in a way that made my fingers slide into my panties. I imagined him taking off that tie and ordering me to turn around. I would, without hesitation, because something inside me wanted nothing more than to yield on the occasions he got bossy. I could feel him crossing my arms behind my back before he looped the silk tie around my wrists and tied them together.
“What are you doing?” I’d ask, my voice a whimper.
“Keeping you where I want you,” he replied, his voice husky with power. “I just wish I had another to pull over your eyes.”
The thought was terrifying, but somehow exciting, too. My fingers slid into my pussy and I was shocked to find it was pulsating with a scorching heat. It only spurred me on, my digits slippery with my own juice as they worked to sate my lust—at least for the time being. Picturing Brody—his captivating eyes and that quick, boyish grin—made me groan as I worked feverishly for release.
I could picture him
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