CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE – KISS
Brandon's firm grip on my hand conveyed safety, a fleeting comfort in the midst of our impending troubles. As we approached the awaiting vale, his expression mirrored concern, his relief palpable upon seeing us. "Mr. Brown! I thought I was waiting at the wrong spot," he exclaimed, audibly exhaling in relief, the tension leaving him. It was clear he was relieved to see us, particularly Brandon.
My gaze shifted to the car, not Brandon's sleek Lambo but my trusty Jeep. "That's my car," I remarked, a genuine smile forming as I saw my familiar vehicle unscathed.
"Yes, it's better for us to leave with your car. Mine would be too obvious," Brandon explained, a strategic choice that made sense. However, I couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment that my Jeep was being categorized as less inconspicuous. I looked at him with a hint of hurt. "My Jeep would be obvious as your Lambo. He's a good boy." My words hung in the air, delivered with a sincerity that might have been unexpected.
Brandon regarded me for a moment, evaluating whether I was joking or not. Well, I wasn't. A smile played on his lips as he brought my hand closer to his lips, planting a gentle kiss. A sudden fit of coughing interrupted my attempt to respond, and his smile persisted through the unexpected moment.
Meanwhile, the vale, seemingly caught in a perpetual state of surprise whenever Brandon exhibited his softer side, finally spoke. His expression betrayed astonishment, eyeing me as if realizing my presence anew. Was Brandon's more affectionate demeanor so rare that it startled everyone around us?
"I," the vale began, "I took your car immediately to the garage after I saw them enter the cafe." Brandon acknowledged the information, retrieving the keys to my Jeep. He turned to look at me, "Would you mind if I ride the Jeep?" Blinking in surprise at the unexpected inquiry, I nodded, "Of course not, as long as you be careful." The words left my lips, and I couldn't help but mentally chastise myself. Here I was, cautioning Brandon to be careful, as if he weren't an expert in handling any situation. "No worries, sunshine. You get in the car; I'll be right with you," he assured. Nodding appreciatively, I wasted no time and walked into the safety of my Jeep, where I felt more secure than I had outside.
In the aftermath of the chaotic café brawl, Brandon, covered in visible bruises and bloodstains, unexpectedly pulled into a drive-thru for coffee. The barista's alarmed expression at our disheveled appearance didn't escape notice. Anyway, we had ordered Latte and Americano at the café and those arrogant man had forced us to leave them in an undrinkable state. I was thankful he thought of coffee even though I could see he was tired.
"We have to go somewhere safe. Can you call your parents and tell them you'll be with your friends tonight?" Brandon's suggestion prompted me to turn my head brusquely, a motion accompanied by a noticeable bone-cracking sound. "What the? Careful!" Brandon's concern was palpable, and I couldn't help but respond. "I have no friends here, Brandon! They would understand instantly that something's wrong, and, oh god, Bloom is coming to my house tomorrow. I have to be home."
After a moment of contemplation, Brandon proposed a solution. "Aren't they having dinner tonight?" My confusion must have been evident. "Yes, how did you know?" Brandon sighed, revealing another layer of his connected world. "My dad is the owner of the restaurant; we can arrange a night for them. They like doing this often."
"I guess you dad owns half of the restaurants in the city. Why didn't he buy Cheri's too? That place is awesome, you know the one we had dinner together?" I took a sip from my coffee, grateful that this hot beverage exists in my time. Realizing Brandon didn't gave me any answer I turned to him only to see his eyes looking at me in amusement. "He does own the Cheri's."
My incredulous gaze shifted between the road and Brandon. "Your dad owns the Cheri's?" I stammered, struggling to process this revelation. Brandon nodded, a casual admission of his affluent background. "WHAT?" The exclamation escaped my lips involuntarily, startling Brandon. "What?" he inquired.
"I love that place!" I exclaimed, realizing that my parents had deliberately kept this treat from me. Though I should've understand when they changed the meeting date that day and easily got a reservation for the next week. Oh, it all makes sense! Brandon was the one who came to the city that day, this is why they canceled! Brandon smiled, seemingly amused by my enthusiasm. "They told me Cheri's had this effect on you; they probably didn't want you to be there 24/7. Knowing my dad, he would organize a special table for you just so you can have your coffee." I smiled, this was actually so cute and it made my heart warm. "That's so cute."
While I continued to process this newfound information, Brandon casually dialed a contact and began issuing orders. My mind raced as I grappled with the swift resolution he orchestrated. "Yes, make sure they have Adrianna Vineyard; it's from the house. And prepare their favorite room." Brandon's voice conveyed authority, effortlessly taking charge. "If they insist, just tell them that you had sent Miss Solaria her dinner and that I would be offended if they don't accept the offer. Make them stay; they can't leave the restaurant tonight."
Concerned about the potential consequences on the staff, I interjected, expressing my worry about my father's firmness. If he wants to go home, he will be home. "Brandon, tell them to tell my parents that I'm the one who surprised them. They wouldn't say no to that and they wouldn't worry about me." Brandon considered the options, his gaze meeting mine as he gauged the feasibility. Satisfied, he relayed my instructions, efficiently handling the situation with a swift phone call.
I seized the opportunity to text my mom, alerting her to the surprise and assuring her that all was well. "You don't have to worry about Bloom; I'll talk to Sky. He was going to come next week, but he can arrange something for tomorrow." The swiftness of Brandon's solutions left me astonished; it seemed he could untangle the most complex dilemmas in mere minutes.
"You said we have to go somewhere safe, didn't you?" I asked, looking at the road. I could feel Brandon's eyes on me, I turned to look at him and smiled. "My house is safer than the prison these days. That's go there."
I parked the car, exhaling a sigh of relief, and turned to Brandon. "It's okay; you can come out." Brandon, displaying a hint of annoyance, remarked, "I don't think they would see me as a problem. We really did this for nothing." Unfazed, I explained the necessity of Brandon's discreet entry into the residence. My father was questioning even the male flies that might enter our house. The security team made it a point to inform my dad about every person entering, emphasizing the need to ensure my safety.
As Brandon opened the door to step out, I began gathering my shopping bags and other belongings from the car. "Is this because of the box and the other stuff in your house in Gardenia?" Brandon inquired while relieving me of the bags. Looking at him all thankful I let him take all the bags. My hands ached from the aftermath of the nail attack on the athletic guy, leaving me unable to protest.
"Yes, my dad is not leaving any open door for them to get in," I replied wryly, the irony not lost on me that I still ended up getting hurt despite these elaborate security measures. "Is this thing still going? Did someone send anything here?" Brandon glanced at me for information, concern etched on his face. "Even if they did, I didn't get it. My dad checks everything before it comes in front of me." The lack of privacy forced me to shop in person rather than online. Not that I don't like to shop in person but having an option is always good.
"I want to know if anything happens or anyone tries something." His seriousness demanded a response, and I whispered a reluctant, I was about to pull my guns out and tell him this wasn't really his concern but I guess I do like seeing him all concerned for me. "Okay." Was my response, girls were right, I was like a kitten on front of Brandon. He sighed and leaned in, planting a soft kiss on my forehead. "Let's go."
As I busied myself in the kitchen, preparing tea for both of us, Brandon was in the bathroom taking a shower. I had offered him some of my dad's clothes, confident they would fit reasonably well. While my dad and Brandon didn't share identical physiques, their broad shoulders and tall figures made the clothes adaptable. At least I think it did. I couldn't help but wonder if the sweatpants I gave Brandon, though a bit larger, would suit.
The sound of the kettle snapped me out of my thoughts. I poured the hot water into my French press, where a blend of dried fruits, chamomile, and ginger awaited. There's nothing quite like self-made tea. I'm getting old and I already am seventeen. Well after ten days this isn't going to be the case. Closing the press and grabbing the mugs I had purchased and washed earlier, I made my way to the living room. Having taken a quick shower, I was dressed in black tights and an oversized hoodie. My hair, still slightly damp from the hurried drying, clung to my shoulders.
As I prepared the tea, I couldn't shake the memory of flinching multiple times in the shower. Undoubtedly, there must be a bruise or a cut on my back, a remnant of the force with which the guy had slammed me against the wall today. I had met the wall more than once actually. One of them being be slammed against a big décor on the way. I guess the reason of this hurt is that décor, it really had sharp edges. The footsteps alerted me to Brandon's presence. Without turning around, I inquired, "Do you feel better?"
"Better," he responded, but his footsteps ceased. "Why is there blood on your hoodie?"
Turning half way to face him, I observed his now-clean face, adorned with a scarred eyebrow and a small black eye. His clothes had fitted perfectly, and really perfectly well. I had given him one of my dad's oldest shirts so the size would fit and the shirt now was hugging Brandon tightly for me to have a delicious view. The pants however were a little loose. He obviously had tied tightly the rope but still was visible to the eye that those weren't his sweatpants. "Where?" I asked, focusing on his face so I wouldn't be considered as a perv in front of him. I was so dumb to think that I can stay away from him because he was trouble. Trouble was literally what turned me on right now. The realization hit me when he pointed it out.
"Take off your sweater; I need to check your back," he stated matter-of-factly.
"Excuse me?" I questioned, not entirely comprehending his request. Brandon, however, didn't wait for more convincing. He grabbed the edge of my sweater and began lifting it away from my body. I involuntarily jumped, shivering as his knuckles brushed against my skin.
"Stella, don't make it a big deal. It's just a check and a bandage if needed, which I think is most definitely needed." His patience was running thin, and I knew resisting would only prolong the inevitable.
Gulping, I looked at him, realizing I had a sports bra underneath my sweater. It covered my breasts, revealing only my waist and stomach, similar to my crop tops. He wouldn't ask me to take that off too because the back of the bra was only shaped X and there wasn't any fabric that can get in his way, only straws of the bra. In consideration of the circumstances, it seemed I was about to comply, though the images from my dream taunted me. People often said that waking up early made time slow down, leaving the day seemingly endless. Right now, I truly had no idea how this day would close.
He walked from behind the couch to sit next to me, "I think I should check on your wounds before you check mine." The words didn't come out because I wanted to avoid his check on my wound; rather, I knew it was practical. His knuckles were still stained with blood, and those needed careful attention; otherwise, the bleeding wouldn't cease.
As he looked down at his hands, he nodded involuntarily. I took his right hand in mine and retrieved the first aid kit from my lap. I had prepared it on the table as soon as I left the bathroom. "This might sting a little," I warned, grimacing at the thought of the antiseptic pad pressing on his bloodied knuckles. Having been a bit of a troublemaker as a child, I was no stranger to pain and bandages. I glanced at Brandon, watching for any sign of discomfort, but his attention was fixed on me, and not a single grimace appeared on his face.
"You're so beautiful," he remarked. My cheeks flushed involuntarily. Yes you flush, please don't be late a second, flush every time Brandon speaks! While I was internally cursing my reflexes towards Brandon, I pressed on with the task at hand. As I finished bandaging one hand and began working on the other, he started playing with my damp hair and gently caressing my cheek with the back of his hand that now was bandaged.
"You should've stayed behind that table and waited for me," he commented. Confused, I replied, "They were trying to attack you all at once. I couldn't just watch." Brandon tilted his head, gazing at me intently. "You should have. They weren't threats to me." His hand cupped my cheek, bringing my face closer, I didn't retreat. I had just finished bandaging his other hand.."You have no idea how much I want to kiss you." I couldn't suppress the gulp in my throat, my eyes darting to his lips. I licked my lips as a reflex. When girls did this in books I always had that knowing smile on my lips talking to the pages like 'You witch! You're trying to turn him on!' but right now I want to apologize to every page I had accused. This really was a reflex.
He took a deep breath, his expression indicating the internal struggle he was facing. "I need to make sure you're not hurt," he declared. My desire to implore him to kiss me instead was interrupted as he grabbed my hoodie, letting it fall to the floor. My reflex was to hug my upper body, drawing a bright smile from Brandon. Great reflexes Stella, I wonder how many of those you got for today. Leaving my sarcasm to myself, I slowly dropped my arms and looked at Brandon who had his eyes fixated on my face.
"Turn around, sunshine." I complied, resisting the urge to push my luck. Waiting for a comment I closed my eyes but his touch and words were absent, I questioned, "What's wrong?" His breath was the only sound I could discern. "You're hurt." The coldness in his calm voice sent shivers down my spine. Didn't we know this already? Just when I opened my mouth to say so he spoke first.
"How did you get hurt like this?" he inquired, carefully applying ointment to my back with his fingers. His touch sent chills through me again; I was undeniably weak against his gentle caresses.
"I jumped on the guy's back, and he slammed himself against the wall with me on his back," I explained. "If I knew," he breathed, "I would've handled him differently. He got off easy." I shook my head no, "And the cops? We didn't have time either way."
He didn't comment on that, his caress not leaving my skin I let out a deep breath. As he secured the bandage on my back, he grabbed my arm gently, turning me to face him. "I can't even count how many times you've got hurt because of me," he lamented. Before I could protest, he pressed his finger to my lips. "I know I'm not acting too openly with you. I know you're confused. But how can I do this knowing that you'll get hurt every time you're with me? There's no one time that you were safe and undamaged." He took a deep breath, this was making him mad, and this was obvious to the eye. "I wasn't hurt the night we had dinner?" I tried to reason with him but his look stopped me,
"I can't control my temper Stella. I need to see you safe, it doesn't matter what I feel."
My brows furrowed, "What about what I feel?" He scanned my face, gulping slowly, he reached to my calf and brought my body in the middle of his legs. "What do you feel?" This maybe was too much for my poor heart to handle. I took a deep breath, carefully deciding what I'm about to say. "I," gulping slowly, my hand rested on his knee, like I was getting support. Even from his knee, I could feel how tensed his body was. "I feel different." Brandon tilted his head, he was probably trying to understand what I the hell I meant by that. Thinking that maybe I can fix it I cleared my throat before speaking, "I know I like your presence and I know I don't feel scared even though bad things happen, because you're with me." I did see Brandon serious more than once but this time he was dead serious and I think I had hit a good spot because his hand moved from my calf to my back, a little lower where the bandage was placed. "You feel safe?" he questioned and I nodded immediately. It was true though, I would never had the force to jump on someone's back like I did today that easily. But I knew even if things did go wrong, Brandon was there and he would never let anything bad to happen to me. And it actually happened this way.
I could see he was holding himself back, I hated seeing this. My other hand moved to his face and I caressed it slowly. "Don't hold back." He let a deep breath out and brought me closer to his body, now our bodies were flush against each other.
"I'm not a baby, Brandon. While it's true that I'm not adept at protecting myself against bigger guys or trained fighters, no ordinary guy or untrained man can take me down. Besides, I'm planning to learn how to fight better, I can promise you that."
Even though visibly nervous, Brandon managed to smile. "Do you really want to?" I looked at him, a bit bewildered, still conscious of my more visible breasts. "Want what?" He leaned in closer, our noses touching. "Do you want me?" His question was deliberate, causing my breath to hitch. Sometimes I pray to god that I can control my nerves, because I could've just screamed 'YES' to his face but I stopped myself.
"I want you." I said without waiting a second. He pressed his lips to my chin, lingering a moment longer than I could endure. I was holding my breath, my hand tightly gripping his bicep for support.
His lips moved slowly to the corner of my mouth, kissing the spot slowly, his breath was brushing my face. My abdomen fluttered as if working overtime; I was amazed it didn't produce the sound of an old laptop overheating. Reflexively, I parted my lips, brushing them against his—a clear invitation for him to finally kiss me. My eyes closed, anticipating the sensation, but the kiss didn't come. We were in a frozen moment, lips barely touching, breathless.
I leaned closer to him, my breasts pressed on his chest, our lips definitely touching, but they were still not moving an inch, he was breathless just like me. And we haven't even kiss yet. He wrapped his arm around me, one hand still cupping my cheek. Seated between his legs, I couldn't; hold it anymore. "Brandon," I breathed, he was killing me here! Like I had pushed his button he grabbed me even tighter and took my lips between his in a second.
A sudden moan escaped from our throats, I wasn't expecting this. No, this was heaven! My body was trembling, my cheeks warming like I had a sun inside me. He took my bottom lip in the middle of his two full lips and now was sucking and kissing it like it was his oxygen he was getting. My hand grabbed his arm tighter than before, the other one still resting on his knee. More like receiving support from it. His hand moved from my back to my lower back, bringing my body flush to his. If my lips weren't having a great time I would tell him that our bodies cannot get any closer and that he had to stop trying. My lips would get swollen after this, I was sure. But I couldn't care less.
His tongue brushed against mine, making me moan one more time. I could still taste the coffee on his tongue. But there was something else that tasted hundred time more delicious than coffee and I could feel myself getting addicted to this taste more than coffee. My hands moved to his face and then to his neck. Lowering him to my face so I can taste everything.
This was my first kiss! But I already was wanting more. I guess he can hear my inner voice because he grabbed me under my legs and pulled me onto his lap, getting comfortable and rearranging himself on couch. The bulge I was feeling under me was making my world turn. His kisses were getting wet and more passionate every passing second. I didn't know how to respond at some of the kisses but he was guiding me perfectly. Bloom would laugh at me if she heard I was unable to respond to a kiss but he really was doing something special here!
When he pulled away so we can take a breather, I moaned, this time because of displeasure. Brandon, still looking at me, smiled, caressing my cheek and observing my flushed face. "I can taste you for hours," he declared. I was barely holding back another moan, my cheeks warming as my body trembled. "I can't," he said, a sudden pang of concern washing over me I looked at him, "I can't let you go now Stella." Looking at him still confused, he added, "I want you with me, all the time." I shifted to get comfortable in his arms but I guess I did something wrong because he bit his lip and moaned still looking at me. His eyes however had a different emotion. I'm not dump not to know what had caused him to react this way, but again I didn't do it on purpose. His arms tightened on me, holding me in place. "Careful sunshine," he moaned.
"I think it's better if sit on the couch." I murmured, involuntarily. I did want to stay on his lap but his body was intending different things that I'm not ready for. He nodded, his eyes dark and his touch careful. He placed me on the couch like I was his baby and leaned over my body caressing my cheek. "You're not going to disappear or stay away from me anymore?"
"I couldn't even if I wanted to."