Barely by Madison Faye

The gun is cold and heavy, and I scowl as I turn it over in my hands. Surprisingly, given my background and my career before I moved into education, I only keep one gun in my house. It’s typically always locked in the safe hidden in my office, but tonight, it’s out. Tonight, I’m giving it a once-over, and checking my ammunition while Brynn is back in my kitchen having a bite to eat.

I’m not scared, but maybe call it “on edge.” After all, I just beat the shit out of two mob guys, and threatened a third who seems like he might be pretty far up the ranks. None of them know who the hell I am, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful. And besides, they do know who she is, and I meant what I said before. She’s staying here, and she’s mine to protect. And I will protect her.

For a minute, as I check the chamber of the Desert Eagle, I’m back in Mosul. For a second, the study fades away, and I’m back with my unit getting ready for a night raid on a Taliban compound on the outskirts of the city. I blink, the memory fading as I finish checking the handgun and set it down on my desk.

I don’t have many flashbacks or memories these days of my Special Forces days. And it’s not something many people even know about. In fact, no one at Winchester does, that’s for sure. And that’s how I’d prefer to keep it. The past is the past, and the demons and darkness from that time in my life can stay there.

There’s a knock at the door to my study, and I swiftly re-wrap the gun in its cloth and place it back in the lock box.

“Come in.”

I lock up the box as the door opens, and Brynn steps in sheepishly as I smile and turn to place the box back in the safe. I swing the door shut and turn back to see her looking away.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on anything.”

I smile, shrugging. “You aren’t. How was the sandwich?”

She grins. “So good. I haven’t had peanut butter and jelly in forever.”

“Hey, all part of the five-star service here.”

She giggles, and fuck does the sound of it get my pulse racing before I catch myself.

Stop that. I can’t go there, even in my fucking head, with her. Not with how old she is, or how old I am. Or the fact that she’s a student, or…

Well, the list of reasons not to flirt with or be anything but an authority figure to Brynn Henley is extensive, to say the least.

“Well, the service at hotel Kane is exquisite so far,” she beams. “I’ll be leaving a stellar Yelp review.”

I chuckle. “Thanks.” I nod at the fireplace on the other side of the room. “You want to talk about what’s going on?”

She nods quietly, and I pick up the remote from my desk and turn on the gas flames. Brynn’s got her tea still in her hands, that pink robe wrapped tight around her and her hair still wet, and I’m helpless to stop my eyes from following her hips as she steps across the room. I swallow back the thoughts in my head as I pour a splash of whiskey into a glass from the bar cart and follow her over, sitting in the chair across from her, the fireplace between us.

“What’s going on with your father?”

Her face darkens, her teeth raking her lip as she nods.

“He had this investment fund, but it turns out it’s not really an investment.”

I frown, and she smiles wryly. “Investments have returns.

“Ahh,” I nod. “Shit.”

“Yeah, shit.”

“How bad?”

She snorts, shaking her head and taking a sip of tea. “Really, really bad. I was visiting home a few weeks ago for my birthday—”

“Happy birthday, Brynn.”

She smiles shyly. “Thanks, Colton.”

Our eyes lock, and she blushes as she looks back at her tea.

“The FBI kicked down our door during dinner and took him away in handcuffs. So, that kind of bad.”

I swear lowly. “Shit, Brynn. And now he’s gone?”

“Yeah. Posted bail instantly and then apparently left the country.”

I frown. “Why isn’t this in the news?”

She laughs bitterly. “Because my father is a scumbag and hires really good scumbag lawyers. They gag ordered the whole thing. Plus, I think the Feds are embarrassed to talk about this big case if the guy responsible left them in the lurch.”

“And your stepmom is in Greece? Can you call her and explain—”

“We’re not close.” She frowns. “Actually ‘not close’ would be an improvement. She hates me for being a reminder of my mom, and I hate her because she’s a horrible, cold bitch.”

I smile wryly, nodding. “Well, fuck.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, looking down. “I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do.”

“Hey,” I growl quietly, bringing her eyes back up to mine. “We’re going to figure this out, I promise. Tonight though, you’re staying here.”

“No, I couldn’t—”

“You can, and you definitely are,” I growl, smiling. “There’s a guest room down the hall from the bathroom upstairs. It’s yours for the night. I’ll get you some clean sheets.”

She smiles sadly, taking a breath as she brings her knees up to her chest. “Thanks, Colton.”

Except, I barely hear her, because suddenly, every single ounce of my attention is being yanked somewhere else. And something roars inside of me.

Because with her knees raised like that, I can see all of Brynn.

…All of her.

The robe is draped over her knees, and the giant pair of boxers of mine she’s wearing have fallen open and wide, and I can clearly see the soft, pink, glistening lips of her tight little pussy.

Fuck.

And just like that, the savage inside of me breaks free. The beast shatters the bars of its cage, and the fire inside of me roars.

She’s still talking, and there’s a faint voice in my head telling me to look away—that this is wrong, and perverse, and that she’s been through way too much recently for me to be staring up the leg of her shorts at her naked pussy like a creep. But fuck if I can stop myself. Not with the way she captivated me back at the club before I knew who she was—captivated me like no woman has in years. Not with the way she slid into that private room and into my lap. Not with the memory of her gorgeous, tight, soft body grinding on my thick cock, her breath catching and the heat between her thighs pulsing against me. Not with having seen her in the shower earlier.

And certainly, not with what I’m looking at now. My cock thickens, pulsing and throbbing between my legs as my jaw clenches.

“Colton?”

I blink, and slowly, my eyes raise to hers. Our gazes lock, and she gasps quietly at the intensity of my gaze, before suddenly, her eyes drop, and realization spreads over her face.

“Oh God,” she whispers softly, her face going red. But she doesn’t yank her legs down, or curse at me, or run screaming from the room. She just blushes intensely, slowly lowering her legs and smoothing her robe down as she chews at her bottom lip.

“I—I guess I’ll just...”

She swallows, her face red as she raises her eyes to mine. And there’s pure, blue, fire in those eyes as they lock with mine.

“I’ll just go to bed now.”

I nod, my jaw still clenched, my mouth dry as she stands.

“I—” she blushes. “Goodnight, Colton.”

“Goodnight, Brynn,” I growl quietly. “We’ll figure this out in the morning.”

She nods, her eyes flashing one last spark of heat my way before she turns and scurries from the room. The door mostly shuts behind her, and I groan, the air whooshing out of my lips and my muscles clenching as my hand drops to the throbbing bulge in my sweats. I growl, my hand wrapping around my fat cock through the material and giving myself a stroke as my mind replays the sight of her bare, pink pussy on fucking repeat.

My pulse surges, and I grunt as I shove my sweats and boxers down until my cock springs free to slap against my abs. My hand wraps around the pulsing shaft, and I hiss in pleasure as I let my mind go to all of the places I’ve been telling it not to go all night where Brynn Henley is concerned. I imagine her dancing on that stage. I remember her grinding her panty-covered little pussy on my lap, her tits in my face and the need to have her roaring in my ears. I remember the glimpse of her in the bathroom earlier, and then just now—the image of her absolutely gorgeous little cunt on display for me.

I freeze, my eyes squeezing shut as one last burst of morality grips me.

Stop this. You need to stop this.

I start to let my hand drop, but instant, I cave, and it goes right back to stroking my throbbing cock. Because I can’t stop this. Not when it’s her in my head. Not with the way she’s somehow drawing me into her like a moth to flame. How she’s captivating me in ways no woman has for a very long time.

Not with how much I fucking want her.

And so, I stroke. And I keep on stroking, images of Brynn bouncing on my cock melting through my thoughts as my pulse races and my balls swell with cum.