Bro Code by Kendall Ryan
I swallow and wait for him to continue while my belly tenses with butterflies yet again.
“So, you're going to be the one calling the shots here,” he says meeting my eyes with a serious expression. “I know how much I'm risking by having you here, and I've come to terms with that. But you're risking something, too, and I need to know you're okay with that.”
He's afraid he's going to hurt me, that this is all going to end in disaster.
I'm struck by a flurry of emotions all at once. Suddenly I know that once this forbidden fling ends, I won't bounce back like I usually do after a breakup—by eating double-stuffed cookies and writing in my journal. No, this is something altogether different.
I haven't wanted to admit it, but something much bigger than I ever expected is happening between us, but before I can ponder it further, Barrett leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips.
“Say something, Ava. I'm a big boy, whatever it is, I can handle it.”
I draw a deep breath, fighting to unscramble my thoughts and focus on the man in front of me. The man who wants me. “If you think for one second I'm walking away from this…”
I don't even finish the sentence before his lips crash down on mine.
He kisses me like I've never been kissed before, sucking on my tongue, nipping at my lower lip. I push my fingers into the hair at the back of his neck, my tongue twisting with his.
“Tell me,” he manages.
Another kiss interrupts him.
“What you...”
His mouth hovers over mine.
“Want.”
Barrett pulls back, looking at me.
There is so much fire in that crystal clear blue gaze that it momentarily renders me speechless.
“You.” Is all I manage before he hoists me up from the couch. We only make it so far as the hallway before he sets me down and pins me against the wall. I'm just as crazed with want. I push my hands under his shirt, touching his chest, his abs, any patch of bare skin I can get my hands on.
He wastes no time peeling off my shirt until I'm standing before him in a lacy bra and just my jeans.
“Jesus, Ava.”
My heart is hammering out of my chest, and the hungry look in his eyes makes me feel oddly emotional. “What?”
“You're so damn sexy.”
I've never been described as sexy in my entire life, but he makes me feel like I am. Then he's unbuttoning my jeans, and I can feel myself tighten a bit as he grazes the precious space between my thighs. Once he’s stripped me down to his liking, he grips my ass with sturdy hands, his touch becoming reacquainted with my curves.
If he notices that I deliberately took the time to match my bra to my panties, he certainly doesn’t stop to comment. His mouth is a little occupied working its way down my neck, decorating my skin with little pink circles on his journey down to my breasts. Good God, are we going to do this right here in the hallway? With this whole apartment at our disposal?
Before I can contemplate that further, he lifts me up by my ass and hoists me up onto him. I can’t help but giggle the tiniest bit as I lace my legs around his waist. I hold tight to his shirt, using it as an excuse to feel his sculpted pecs through the thin material as he carries me to the kitchen, his mouth still devouring mine.
He lowers me onto the granite countertop, then pulls back to meet my eyes. Using the pads of his fingers, he strokes my cheek so gently, so softly as he gazes down at me.
“You are so beautiful. I'm glad you came.”
Of course, I came but it'd be too much to admit that I missed him. Too intimate. So instead I pull him in for another kiss.
His hands slip down to my waist, and he holds me close as our tongues twirl and glide together.
When I'm breathless, he pulls back again, meeting my eyes. “I'm sorry I just left the hotel. You were asleep, and…it just seemed like the best way.”
I nod. “A clean break. I get it. Except…”
His mouth quirks up in a lopsided grin. “I needed another taste.”
Our lips crash together again, but I sense the time for talking is done, because this time, his fingers trace circles over my skin, caressing and stroking me from my shoulders to my arms to my lower back. And then his lips are on my neck, his teeth grazing my collarbone, moving lower until his hands are cupping my breasts and his mouth is leaving damp kisses along my cleavage.
When I reach back to unclasp my bra, he pauses, waiting in anticipation as I peel the lace away from my skin and let it drop to the tile floor.
His gaze is almost worshipful as he takes in the sight of my bare breasts—barely a B cup, but so high and perky I really don't even need a bra.
“Shit,” he curses under his breath. “These are fucking amazing.” His thumb grazes the tip of one breast and I barely hold in a shudder.
Every time we're together it's as if he has all the time in the world to tease and toy with my body. The slow touches, the drawn-out foreplay, the laser focus on my orgasm. Meanwhile, I feel like I'll die if I don't feel him inside me in the next four seconds.
I reach in between us and palm the erection I can feel through his jeans.
“Oh fuck, please,” I whimper as he hooks his fingers inside my panties, stroking me lightly with the backs of his knuckles.
“Please what?” he breathes into my ear. His voice is hot, sinful, and dripping with pure sex.
I meet his gaze, blinking at him, innocently. “Please fuck me with that big cock of yours, Barrett.”
He releases a groan of approval. I guess he likes my dirty talk.
And it's all the invitation he needs. A quick tug on his boxer briefs and his erection springs free. Glad to see he's just as excited to see me as I am to see him. His briefs fall to the floor and he begins rubbing the head of his erection against my opening. Yes, yes, yes. My toes curl at how very right this feels. God, I don’t think I’ll ever get over how big he is.
“Fuck.” He pulls away.
“What's wrong?” I look up at him, suddenly confused.
“I need to go grab a condom. Don't move.”
I wrap my hands around his waist, not letting him move. “Do we need one?” I'm on birth control, and there's no one I trust more than Barrett.
His eyes meet mine. “Never done that before.”
“Ever?” I blink at him.
He shakes his head, and I can see that he's telling me the truth. Which is crazy, he's thirty years old.
“Well, I'm on the pill, and I've only been with two men, and I've been tested, and I haven't slept with anyone in over a year.” Oh my God, why am I babbling? I place my hand on his cheek and meet his eyes. “I'm good if you are.”
For a moment, I'm not sure what he's thinking, and then he presses a tender kiss to my lips. “Just that you'd trust me with this is…” He gives me another kiss. “Yes.”
Taking a firm hold of my hips, he pulls me to the edge of the counter and parts my thighs as wide as they will go. I’m perfectly positioned to take all of him, and I have a feeling that’s exactly what he’s going to give me.
One smooth, very slow thrust, and my eyes dart up to his. The look of focus on his face is almost breathtaking. He's biting into his lower lip, his eyes half-lidded in concentration.
Barrett slides in farther, and I yelp a little.
He pulls back immediately, a concerned look flashing across his handsome features. “Fuck.” He cups my cheek with his large palm, his regret instant. “I'm so, so sorry. Are you okay?”
“It's okay.” I nod. “Just maybe go a little slower.”
His eyebrows are still scrunched together when he leans down and presses a tender kiss to my mouth. “I can’t seem to control myself around you. I'll be careful, okay?”
I nod again, smiling at him so he knows it really is okay.
He starts again, setting a slower pace, and dear God, this man must have the patience of a saint because after several minutes of this slow-tempo lovemaking, I'm ready to burst.
“You ready for more?” he asks, his eyes falling down to where our bodies are joined. My gaze follows and holy hell, the sight is so erotic. His manhood is painted in my arousal, and I can see he hasn't been giving me his whole length, just pushing into me until my toes curl, and then retreating.
Again, the patience of a saint.
“More,” I confirm on a groan, lacing my fingers behind his back and pulling him in deeper.
He obeys, his rhythm kicking up, and soon he's thrusting into me as far as he can go and I moan so loud I’m running the risk of neighbors calling in a noise complaint. Let them call, I don’t give a damn. This feels too good to stop.
I tuck my pelvis just right so that he slides up against my g-spot and all of me tightens and contracts. Shit, I thought the sex was amazing our first time; but this is on another level. Maybe it's just that every time with him gets better. With each of his thrusts, my body tenses and my breath escapes me, my heart thumping in double time.
“B-Barrett! God, yes, Barrett!” I pant as he pushes so deep into me that I finally unravel. With one last stutter of his name, I come while he is still pressed deep into me. He grunts as I contract and release around him, still rocking in and out of my pulsing heat.
Instead of giving me a second to catch my breath, he scoops my still-trembling frame off the counter and sets me on my feet, bent over the kitchen sink this time.
His lips are at the back of my neck. “Can you stand?”
I nod, and tentatively he moves his hands from my hips, making sure he can trust me. I grip the counter in front of me, and feel his erection brush against my ass.
Steadying himself with one hand locked to my shoulder, he presses into me from behind, hitting totally different parts of me. He groans and I contract around him again at the sound of him losing control. I push back a bit, rocking back onto his stiff length, which he gives another approving groan to.
I can feel his muscles tightening as he teeters on the edge of climax. With an arch of my back, he slides so deep into me that I can practically feel him behind my belly button. Using my body as though I weigh nothing at all, he pulls me back onto him again and again.
“Where should I come?” he asks.
“Inside me.”
I can hear his breath choke and he empties into me with a final trembling thrust. Once he eases out of me, I turn around to place a grateful kiss on his mouth. He gathers me up in his arms, pulling me close to his chest.
“Welcome to Chicago,” he whispers against my hair.
I smile and run my hand down the scruff on his cheek. If I go even a second without touching him I’m afraid I’ll snap out of whatever perfect dream I’m in and he’ll disappear. As long as I’m touching him, this has to be real.
He tilts up my chin with the tips of his fingers to press his mouth against mine. Unlike every kiss we have shared up until this moment, this kiss is delicate and sweet. This kiss doesn’t say “I want to bend you over on my coffee table,” although I know he does—and probably will later this evening. This kiss says, “I’m happy you’re here,” and when he pulls away, the gentleness of it sends a tingle down my spine.
“I’ve got you for two full days,” he says, playfully tucking my messy sex hair behind my ear. “And I promise to make it to the bedroom next time.”
A shudder vibrates through me. Being back with him has been so absolutely perfect already that I almost forgot that I only have him for two short days. Forty-eight hours in an incredible city with the grown-up version of my childhood boy crush, then I’ll be back on the road, pushed out of this dream state and back into reality, aka Indiana. And I’ll have three hours of driving to replay a weekend’s worth of memories before letting them go, leaving them somewhere in the snow on the side of the highway.
As unfair as it seems, I can’t bring any of it with me. This isn’t just some high school fantasy anymore. This is real life. And at the end of the day, I have to keep telling myself that Barrett’s life is here in Chicago, and mine is in a factory in the middle of nowhere. Some lives aren’t meant to line up, no matter how much I desperately wish they could.
This is why I was scared to start this in the first place. Why I wanted to cut things off when he went back to the city. Why I fled the car in a panic that night in my parents’ driveway—the first time things turned physical between us.
It’s because I knew from the very beginning that just a little would never be enough, that the second I got the slightest taste of Barrett, I would start falling in love.
Chapter Nineteen
Barrett
After doing perfectly ordinary things during the day with Ava, like watching a movie, going to the grocery store, and visiting a bookstore, I've scored us a reservation at my favorite tapas restaurant for dinner tonight. But it's not just a great meal that has me looking forward to the evening—it's the chance to spend more time with her.
After ushering her inside, my hand resting on the small of her back, I guide us to the hostess station. A few heads turn in our direction, and I can't help but wonder what people think when they look at us together. Do they think we're a couple? Shit, are we a couple? I'm guessing they wonder what kind of lucky prick I am to get a girl like her.
She looks flawless tonight in a pair of well-fit jeans that hug her curves, and a bright red sweater that dips low in the front. Her hair is loose over her shoulders, and her blue eyes are done up in eyeliner and mascara. Something inside me likes that she made an extra effort to look good for our date.
We're led to a private table for two with a white tablecloth and a small candle burning in the center. I help Ava into her seat, and then we begin to peruse the menus. Ava unfolds hers with wide eyes, skimming over page after page like she's not sure where to start.
“If you let me order, I promise you'll have the best dinner of your life,” I say.
She looks up from the wine menu with a raised brow. “That's a pretty big promise to make.”
“I can back it up.” When I see her blush, I wonder if we're still talking about dinner, or something else. “What do you say?”
After one more glance at the list of entrees, she folds the menu and sets it on the table. “Ball's in your court, Barrett. Impress me.”
That I can do. The look on her face when I rattle off a whole banquet of dishes and matching wines is priceless, but our waitress takes it in stride, promising to be back with our drinks in just a moment.
Our wine is delivered, and Ava tries a sip, testing the merlot on her tongue before swallowing.
“Do you approve?”
“It's delicious,” she confirms.
I can't help but notice the heat lingering in her expression as she takes another drink.
“I'm curious,” I say, leaning forward. “What kinds of fascinating topics are you studying these days?”
She laughs, her blue eyes brightening as she meets my gaze. “Proboscis monkeys.”
I make a questioning expression.
“You know the kind with the big pink noses?” she asks.
I remember back to a nature show I watched once. “I think so. The ones that look like they have a dick coming off their face?”
She rolls her eyes, laughing again. “How old are you again?”
“Thirty.”
“Right, of course you are. Anyway, I've been reading about them. They're fascinating. The males make a loud, nasally call with that nose of theirs, and the females will travel long distances in search of the male with the loudest call.”
“Sort of like you traveling all the way to Chicago …”
She rolls her eyes, but the irony isn't lost on me.
“So, it's a desirable trait?” I ask, taking another sip of my wine as I watch her.
“Oh yes. The alpha males are often the noisiest of the bunch.”
“Sounds fascinating.”
&nbs
God, she's adorable.
Our food is delivered and we waste no time digging in. There are grilled shrimp, stuffed mushrooms, and seared scallops. And the dishes don't stop coming. I love this restaurant.
“Try this,” I say, raising a date stuffed with goat cheese to her lips.
She opens and I place the bite on her tongue. Her eyes widen and lock on mine as she chews. “Oh, my God, that's the best thing I've ever eaten.”
“Glad you like it.”
Our fingers keep brushing as we pass around the plates, and she has the courage to catch my hand and suck a stray drop of sauce off my thumb.
“That's dangerous,” I whisper.
“I know,” she says with no small amount of pride, daring me to comment further.
For now, I hold back. It's no fun if she can bait me that easy every time, although it makes dinner an entertaining back-and-forth.
She clings to me on the way out of the restaurant, and I shield her against the harsh wind. The moment we step back into my apartment, I turn up the heat to warm her and she lets out a deep breath of relief.
“Sit and warm up.” I can't resist rubbing her back, stealing one more touch. It's still surreal that I get to touch her at all. It's not something I'm going to take for granted. “I'll be right back.”
Her curious look follows me all the way to the kitchen. Once I'm out of sight, I take a pair of glasses out of the cabinets and fetch the champagne I've kept chilling in the fridge. Stripping away the foil with my thumb on the cork, I let it open slowly, the hiss of pressure fading away by degrees. Once the bubbles have calmed down, I fill both glasses with care, letting the foam rise to the perfect height.
I'm about to carry the champagne in when my phone rings. Setting the glasses back on the counter, I see Nick's number on the screen and pick up. “Hey, man. What's up?”
“Nothing, which is why I'm calling my best friend.” When he pauses, I check the time; it's pretty late. “You up for going out? I could use a little action tonight, and I'm guessing you could too.”
“Just a second,” I say, keeping my voice low so it doesn't carry, and step farther into the kitchen.