brenton's girl

twenty eight

Things never seemed to change for me, things seemed more routine than any dieting athletes morning routine. One thing for certain was always going to be the same; Brenton was Wayside. No matter where on this lovely planet we stood together.

The first morning in The Keys, I woke up alone in our hotel bed. Brenton's side was completely cold meaning he'd left a good while ago. I was used to it, so I pushed the thick covers off my body and slipped on a pair of socks. Our hotel room was mostly tile and I didn't want to be cold.

I went to the bathroom, brushed my hair and teeth, and then threw my hair into a messy bun. I saw a couple of hickies on my chest and thighs and the memories of last nights events flooded my mind.

Brenton pulled me by my thighs, resting his broad shoulders against the quivering limbs before continuing his torturous love. He took his time, really admiring the taste, the feeling of my most vulnerable parts.

Last night he let me touch him, let me grab him when I needed something to grab onto. I didn't touch those sheets once with my fingertips. Only his own body.

His hair somehow felt softer, fuller, and much better under my angry hands. He allowed to pull him closer and push his away when everything became too much, but he didn't stop until he was one hundred and ten percent sure I was satisfied.

Then, he ravished me in the slowest and most enjoyable way possible. Taking his time to touch me and hold me. His hands were feathers against my hot skin, allowing me to submit to him in a way I never had before. I was putty in his hands.

The night was so slow, so blissful, it ended in tears. My body felt such pleasure and such love and devotion to Brenton last night, it almost felt like a goodbye, but I didn't let those thoughts surface any more than the once.

Now, as I threw on my bikini and sandals, I recalled something Brenton had told me. He told me he was going to be back, and that we were going to celebrate. I didn't know what exactly that meant, but I knew I wanted to look good when we do.

I rode the elevator down to the lobby of the hotel and then made my way to the beach. I had my sunglasses on blocking the sun from my eyes. When I got to the beach I couldn't help but stand and bask in the sunlight for a moment, the sun was my favorite place.

I had always had dreams of moving into a small condo on the beach, learning to surf, having an amazing sun kissed tan, and ever since I was a youngling I have anted to get married on the beach, just like my momma and daddy did.

I laid a towel in the sand close to the water and snatched a book from my bag. I was reading a book called Looking For Salvation At The Dairy Queen. I planned the day ahead before even opening to my marked page. My plan was to: tan and read and eat and nap.

Sadly that's not what happened. I only read forty pages when the clouds took over the blue sky, turning it a depressing gray. Before the rain even had a chance to fall, I closed my boo, shook out my towel, threw a sundress on, and packed my bag returning back to the hotel minutes later.

Brenton was in the room when I walked in. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, his top was shirtless but dripping water; he just got out of the shower.

"Hey," I said. "How was your day?" I asked hugging his waist, I looked up at him, ignoring the bruises on his cheek and eye.

"Fun for me," then he paused and chuckled. "It wouldn't be so much for you." He pulled away and replaced his towel for a pair of basketball shorts. He sat on the bed and I followed, he pulled me so that I straddled his lap.

"Tell me about it." Brenton was clearly shocked, he wasn't expecting my interest. He placed his hands on the back of my thighs and pulled me closer so that I was flush against his chest, I had to grab his shoulders so that I wouldn't fall. "Tell me." I said again, this time his kissed my lips softly and then nodded.