Page 38 of A Favor Owed

“Well, I’m about to make you feel like a man, McDaniels, so shut up.” My mouth and tongue trail slowly down his body. His hands gradually fall away from my hair and grip his sheets.

One of the few benefits of being a virgin for the entire seven years of my sexually active life is that I’ve learned how to give a pretty decent blow job. Guys are afraid to have sex with me, but they’re not afraid to let me go down on them, and they sure as shit aren’t going to risk spilling the beans to their friends afterward. Defaming the daughter of someone like my father would have the same effect as deflowering her, the logic goes. So I’ve been free to exchange oral sexual favors whenever I want. Not like it happens a lot. I’m still mostly untouchable.

“Jesus Christ, Angie,” Brady rasps as my mouth closes around him. I feel his thighs tense on either side of me. His hands are back in my hair, gripping hard. My own body is on fire from his reaction.

Only a few minutes have gone by when his fingers tighten in my hair. “Ange, I’m going to—”

But instead of moving away, I take him deeper and groan so that the vibration will send him over the edge he’s riding. I coax his release and taste it, savoring it, thrilled that I can make sunny “How’s it going, man,” “Nothing fazes me” Brady McDaniels come undone. He lies in the bed, breathing hard, his eyes shut as I kiss my way up his body, along his jaw, to his ear.

“Was that okay?” I whisper. He smiles slowly.

“I think you know that was beyond okay.” He wraps his arms around me and hauls me on top of him. “That was like, Olympic-gold-medalist, all-star-MVP, World-Series-level shit right there, Pines.”

“That’s a lot of sports analogies, Brady.” I laugh. His eyes are on mine, moss green and happy.

“Hey, it’s the highest form of compliment.”

“I’ll take it, then.”

His hands slowly trace the curve of my waist and the flare of my hips. “I don’t know anything about you, Angela Pines,” he says softly.

And that’s exactly how it needs to stay, Brady McDaniels.

“You know the important stuff. I’m not a Red Sox fan, and I give good head.”

He bursts out laughing. “Those are definitely the only important truths in life, princess. Nothing else really matters, does it?”

He flips us over so that I’m underneath him, looking up into those beautiful eyes. The gummy-bear-stealing glint in his eye has returned. That’s good. I can’t handle serious Brady right now. I feel completely alone living a life in which no one knows who I am. And something about Brady tears me apart. I want to rely on my instinct that I shouldn’t trust anyone, but another part of me wants to tell him everything. I need to fight that urge, if not for me, then for him.

“You look…unsatisfied,” he murmurs with a small grin. His mouth dips to my neck, sending electricity through my body. Goddamn, but this boy can kiss. Just the thought of that mouth heading south on my body makes me break a sweat. I grip his shoulders, willing myself not to completely lose it.

“Your turn to relax,” he says, removing my hands and placing them up by my head. I take a deep breath and am just starting to mellow out when his mouth closes on my breast and lightly sucks. I arch up into him with something between a yelp and a groan. I grip the pillow, feeling like I’ll tear it apart if I’m not careful.

“See how relaxing that is?” he says. I can hear his smirk. I groan in pleasure and frustration and wild anticipation. Then his lips are moving slowly down my body, hot and full of confidence and expertise. And his hands. Holy shit, his hands. One is splayed along my right hip, and the other one…oh my God, the other one…

“Brady,” I whisper as one of his fingers and then another find their way inside me. His mouth is just below my belly button, still slowly traveling down my body. And then it’s right where I want it to be, where I’m dying for it to be. I’m like a lit firecracker, and it takes only seconds for me to burst into fragments of brightly colored light.

“That was too easy, Pines,” says Brady, kissing the inside of my thighs as I float on a cloud of bliss. “You are too fucking delicious for me to stop there.”

“I can’t,” I protest weakly as he starts to work his magic all over again.

“Sure you can.”

He’s teasingly slow at first, making me see stars as I come down from one high and ascend to another. He takes his time, getting me more and more worked up until finally I come again. This time I cover my face with the pillow I’ve been gripping for dear life, smothering my scream. I feel Brady’s kisses move up along my torso, and then he grabs the pillow out of my hands and tosses it on the floor. He kisses me on the mouth, his hands on either side of my face.

“I would have liked to hear that scream without the pillow barrier,” he says.

“I’m sure your neighbors would have liked it a lot less than you,” I retort.

“Take a wild guess how much I care about the neighbors.”

I smile and let him wrap me up in his strong arms.

When I first moved here and started preparing for law school, this is not where I had expected to find myself: in bed with the hottest guy in our class, naked, wanting very much to have sex with him but afraid to tell him I’m a virgin. I know I’m not the only girl to make it through college without losing her virginity, but I know Brady will think it’s weird. I know it will lead to questions I’m not ready to answer, not because I don’t trust him but because I don’t want to drag him into my shit. Somehow I’ve gotten myself all wrapped up in Brady—literally and figuratively—and that’s dangerous for both of us. I need to stick with the plan, but that’s seeming more and more unlikely. My plan, I’ve decided, sucks.

Chapter Sixteen

Brady

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