It was just dark when I got to my house and pulled the plastic grocery bags out of the car. I unlocked my back door and went in, calling to Brodie as I switched on the kitchen light. I didn't hear an answer, so I put the groceries away, leaving a bottle of beer out of the refrigerator so he could have it to hand when he got thirsty.
But as I went down the hall. I heard some small movement. I pushed open the door of my old room gently, not wanting to make a big noise if my guest wasn't yet up. Oh, but he was. Brodie was pulling on his jeans, with his back to me. He hadn't bothered with underwear, not even the purple silk boxers I bought him. My breath stuck in my throat. I made a sound like 'gahhh,' and made myself close my eyes tight. I clenched my fists.
I had never realised that a woman would have to keep to fight her hands off a man, but here I was, digging my nails into my palms, staring at the insides of my eyelids as though I could maybe see through them if I tried hard enough.
'Sarah, are you alright?' Brodie asked. I floundered my way back to sanity through a swamp of lust. He was standing right in front of me, his hands resting on my shoulders. I looked up into his blue eyes, now focused on me and apparently full of nothing but concern. I was right on a level with his hard nipples. They were the size of pencil erasers. I bit the inside of my lip. I would not lean over those few inches.
'Excuse me,' I said, speaking very softly. I was scared to speak loudly, or move at all. If I did, I might knock him down. 'I didn't mean to walk in on you. I should have knocked.'
'You have seen all of me before.'
not the rear view, bare. 'Yes but intruding wasn't polite.'
'I don't mind. You look upset.'
You think? 'Well I have had a very bad day. I think I'll go have a shower.' And with that I turned on my heel and marched into my room. I went into the bathroom and ditched my clothes, tossing them into the hamper. I bit my lip until I could smile at my own streak of wildness, and then I climbed into the spray of hot water.
I know cold showers are more traditional, but I was enjoying the warmth and relaxation the heat brought. I got my hair wet and groped for the soap.
'I'll do that for you,' Brodie said, pulling back the curtain to step into the shower with me.
I gasped, just short of a shriek. He had discarded the jeans. He was also in a mood, the same mood I was in. you could really tell, with Brodie. I was embarrassed, horrified, and absolutely ready to jump him. While I stood stock-still, paralyzed by conflicting waves of emotion, Brodie took the soap out of my hands and lathered up his own, set the soap back in its little niche, and began to wash my arms, raising each in turn to stroke my armpit, down my side, never touching my breasts, which were practically quivering like puppies who wanted to be petted.
'Have we ever made love?' he asked.
I shook my head, still unable to speak.
'Then I was a fool,' he said, moving one hand in a circular motion over my stomach. 'Turn around, lover.'
I turned my back to him, and he began to work on that. His fingers were very strong and very clever, and I had the most relaxed and cleanest shoulder blades in Australia by the time Brodie got through.
My shoulder blades were the only thing at ease. My libido was hopping up and down. Was I really going to do this? It seems more and more likely that I was, I thought nervously. If the man in my shower had been the real Brodie, I would have had the strength to back off. I would have ordered him out the minute he stepped in. The real Brodie came with a whole package of power and politics, something of which I have limited understanding and interest. This was a different Brodie -- without the personality that id grown fond of, in a perverse way -- but it was beautiful Brodie, who desired me, who was hungry for me, in a world that often let me know it would do very well without me.
My mind was about to switch off and my body was about to take over. I could feel part of Brodie pressed against my back, and he wasn't standing that close. Yikes. Yahoo. Yum.
He shampooed my hair next.
'Are you trembling because you are frightened of me?' he asked.
I considered that. Yes and no. but I wasn't about to have a long discussion over the pros and cons. The inner debate had been rough enough. Oh, yeah, I know, there wouldn't be a better time to have a long yada-yada with Brodie about the moral aspects of mating with someone you didn't love. And maybe there would never be another time to lay ground rules about being careful to be gentle with me physically. Not that I thought Brodie would beat me up, but his manhood was a daunting prospect to a relatively inexperienced woman like me. I felt like a car that had only been operated by one driver........a car its new prospective buyer was determined to take to the Daytona 500.
Oh, to hell with thinking.
I toke the soap from its niche and lathered up my fingers. As I stepped very close to him, I kind of folded Mr Happy up against Brodie's stomach, so I could reach around him and get my fingers on that absolutely gorgeous butt. I couldn't look him in the face, but he let me know he was delighted I was responding. He spread his legs obligingly and I washed him very thoroughly, very meticulously. He began to make little noises, to rock forward. I began to work on his chest. I closed my lips around his right nipple and sucked. He liked that a lot. His hands pressed against the back of my head. 'Bite, a little,' he whispered, and I used my teeth. His hands began to move restlessly over whatever bit of skin they could find, stroking and teasing. When he pulled away, he had decided to reciprocate, and he bent down. While his mouth closed over my breast, his hand glided between my legs. I gave a deep sigh, and did a little moving of my own. He had long fingers.
The next thing I knew, the water was off and he was drying me with a white fluffy towel, and I was rubbing him with another one. Then we kissed for a while, over and over.
'The bed,' he said, a little raggedly, and I nodded. He scooped me up and then we got into a kind of tangle with me trying to pull the bedspread down while he just wanted to dump me on the bed and proceed, but I had my way because it was just too cold for the top of the bed. Once we were arranged, I turned to him and we picked up where we'd left off, but with an escalating tempo. His fingers and his mouth were busy learning my topography, and he pressed heavily against my thigh.
I was so on fire for him that I was surprised that flames didn't flicker out of my fingertips. I curled my fingers around him and stroked.
Suddenly Brodie was on top of me, about to enter. I was exhilarated and very ready. I reached between us to put him at just the right spot, rubbing the tip of him over my nub as I did so.
'My lover,' he said hoarsely, and pushed.
Though I'd been sure I was prepared, and I ached with wanting him, I cried out with the shock of it.