Brain Games

16. Once

The drive to my apartment is almost deafening, aside from the rumble of the car's engine.

I glance over at Brad in the driver's seat, noticing the hard set of his jaw, his eyes laser focused on the road, looking like he's on a mission. I make the mistake of looking at his veiny hands firmly wrapped around the steering wheel, remembering every place those hands touched me moments ago.

I instinctively rub my legs together, the backs of my thighs awkwardly sticking to the leather of the seats, making an awful sound when my skin peels away from the leather.

Brad quickly glances at me out of his peripheral, making me blush. I tightly clasp my hands in my lap, my nerves on edge and muscles strained tight in anticipation. Not to mention there are a hundred and one thoughts swirling around in my brain.

Needing something—anything—to fill the intense, sexually charged silence, I clear my throat, capturing Brad's attention.

"Just to be clear," I state, my voice shakier than I'd like it to be. "This is a onetime thing."

I dare to glance over at his wickedly handsome face, the periodic street lamps we drive past casting a dim glow on him every few seconds, allowing me to see the cocky smirk forming on his lips.

He reaches over, placing a hand dangerously high on my thigh. "It can be however many times you'd like."

My stomach flutters and I swallow thickly. "I think once will suffice."

He huffs out a laugh, full on grinning. "We'll see."

Cocky bastard.

As we approach my apartment building, I have him pull into the underground parking garage. As soon as he cuts the engine we're both eagerly getting out of the car and walking towards the elevator.

I hit the call button more aggressively than I intend to and try not to anxiously shift my weight from foot to foot as the elevator takes forever.

I peek at Brad, finding him staring up at the light above the elevator, looking calm, cool and collected with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. I almost scoff at how nonchalant he is, looking like this is just another casual Friday night for him while I'm about to explode. But then I watch his jaw twitch. I take a closer look at him and realize the tightness of his shoulders, the rise and fall of his chest, and how his eyes are completely fixed on the doors of the elevator in anticipation, revealing the barely there restraint, making me feel a lot better.

It's not that I'm expecting this night to be the best he's ever had or to mean anything. I know after tonight I'm going to be just another notch in his belt, but I at least want him to be as enthusiastic about this as I am. I at least want to feel a little special, I guess. Desired. Not just some warm body.

The doors finally grind open and Brad and I nearly knock into each other trying to get in as fast as possible, before the doors are even fully open. We scramble inside and I go to one side of the elevator while he goes to the other, the amount of space between us almost comical, given what we're about to do. What we've already done.

I jab my finger into the button for my floor and as soon as the doors close, enclosing the two of us in the small metal box, Brad takes one large stride towards me, his surprisingly soft hands roughly grabbing my face and bringing my lips to his in a bruising kiss.

I fall back into the elevator wall from the force, but nevertheless, I kiss him back just as fiercely, my fingers tangling into his dark, wavy hair.

Brad kisses me hungrily, using his large, wonderful hands to angle my head just the way he wants to lick deep into my mouth, exploring. I moan the instant his tongue brushes mine, battling for dominance, and he runs his hands down the sides of my neck, rounding my shoulders to cup my breasts, palming them before skimming down my sides, his hands hooking around the backs of my thighs.