The Imperfections by Sam Mariano
8
Alyssa
After a long,wonderful day exploring Brant’s property, we head back to the house and he fires up the grill to cook our steaks. I go inside to make sides and feed Scout, then we come together at the table to eat what might be our last dinner together.
I hope it’s not our last dinner together, but I have no idea if it will be or not. All day I’ve been hoping he’d ease my confusion about what it is we’re actually doing here, but he hasn’t.
It feels a lot like dating to me, but he still hasn’t kissed me. Not at the lake when we were sitting on the ground, playing with Scout. Not when he hauled me off his ATV, his hands lingering on my body longer than they needed to as he helped me get down. Not even when he spread me out on that picnic blanket he’d had me fantasizing about, pushed up my skirt, pulled down my panties, and licked my pussy until I cried out with abandon, all alone with him in the woods.
Well, I guess he kissed me then, just not on my mouth.
It’s so weird how he’s okay with kissing literally everywhere else, but not there.
He hasn’t said what’ll happen once I leave, so I’m hoping he addresses it at dinner—at least, I’m hoping for it until it happens.
“I need to know you’re gonna stay away from Theo once I take you home,” he says, not looking up from his plate.
His words send a ball of discomfort tumbling around inside my belly. Maybe it shouldn’t, given it’s only been a couple days we’ve been together, but it feels like longer to me, and I feel like he knows me better than that now.
“Alyssa,” he says more firmly, looking at me across the table.
Stiffening, I bring my gaze to his. “I can’t believe you even have to ask me that.”
Sighing heavily, he says, “I know we’ve had a nice few days, regardless of all the reasons we shouldn’t have, but tomorrow you go back to your life and maybe the spell breaks. People have a tendency to fall back into old habits when they’re back in the same old environment. I’m gonna be pissed as hell if you fall right back—”
“I won’t,” I snap, not even letting him finish. I stab a piece of broccoli like it’s his face and put it in my mouth, chewing more aggressively than I need to. I glare at him so he knows it’s his head I’d like to chew off instead.
“You better not,” he warns me, not even cowed by my glare. “If you do, I’ll kidnap your little ass again, and this time I will lock you up and not let you leave.”
I huff, stabbing another vegetable and popping it in my mouth, glaring at him real good while he threatens me. “Maybe if you think I’m so untrustworthy, you shouldn’t even let me go home.”
Eyeing me, he says, “It’s not that I think you’re untrustworthy. I just know you’re young and impressionable, and consequences aren’t always the first thing you think about when you’re deciding whether or not to do something. I put a gun to your head and you quietly packed your things and followed me to my truck to be taken God knows where and have God knows what done to you. In less than a day, I was able to bring you to my side without even trying. As much as I’d like to think I’m special, your past actions and the things he told me himself make me think Theo had it just as easy when you were with him before. If he decides to pivot and play nice, I need to know you’re not gonna fall for it and go back to him.”
My face feels like a space heater, burning up with flames of shame, embarrassment, and anger. “So, not untrustworthy because I’m a bad person, just unreliable because you think I’m easy and I don’t think about the consequences of any of my actions. That’s nice. Thank you for that.”
“I’m not trying to insult you,” he states. “This is a necessary conversation, unfortunately, and I need to make sure you’re not gonna backslide.”
I don’t even dignify his words with a response this time, putting a big bite of steak in my mouth so he won’t expect me to talk.
“I may not be willing to squeeze the life out of you, but make no mistake, I won’t sit back and watch you keep making the same damn mistake again, either—especially because my sister’s married to that goddamn mistake and had two of his babies.”
“I’m so mad at you for continuing to say this stupid shit,” I inform him.
“It’s not stupid. Your behavior changed along with your environment and your company. I have to make sure you’re prepared to go back to real life and still make better decisions when I’m not around anymore. And it’s not just that, either. Like I told you before, worthless as he is, if Theo looks at you and sees a threat to his family, he could be dangerous. He did send me to kill you, after all.”
“I am quite aware of that fact, but thank you for beating me over the head with it.”
“He’s not a good guy,” Brant states, as if I’m some kind of idiot.
“I know,” I reply coolly. “Can we please stop talking about him?”
“I’m not trying to piss you off.”
“Well, you have.”
“Well, I’m sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. “I’d rather be clear about this beforehand than send you home and have another mess to clean up before long.”
Still, I shake my head. That he thinks I’d sleep with Theo again drives home the point that whatever we’re doing here, it must not be anything romantic in nature. I guess I should have figured that when he told me I could move into the empty cabin on his property and ‘do whatever I want’ there. He might as well have told me he’s not interested in anything serious so I can fuck whoever I want, and of course he’s not interested in anything serious—he thinks I’m some young idiot he has to fuck to keep off his brother-in-law’s dick.
I like how when he’s calling me easy and putting down my ability to comprehend consequences, he only says the things that make me look bad. I got in the truck with an armed stranger because he threatened to hurt my family—because of the consequences. Not because I thought a trip to potentially be murdered sounded like fun, and not because it didn’t cross my mind that there might be any unpleasant consequences.
After he watched that video and pressed his cock against me in my bed, I pretty much assumed I would be raped at the very least if I went with him; I made the conscious choice to go anyway because the alternative was worse.
He doesn’t give me credit for anything.
Well, this night has taken an unpleasant turn. I didn’t know if Brant was interested in dating me, but I did think he at least respected me more than this.
I don’t have much left to say to him now, and I’m so disappointed while also telling myself I don’t have a right to be.
It’s not like Brant ever asked me out or anything. This feels intimate to me because we’ve slept together, but he’s more or less been telling me not to make too much of that the whole time. I let myself get confused because when you’re living in a man’s house, taking care of his dog, keeping him fed, and taking his dick every night… well, it just tends to feel relationship-like.
My mistake.
No wonder he never kissed me.
Brant says a little more about Bri and Theo and how I’m supposed to handle that going forward, but I stop listening. I don’t care anymore. I feel so stupid for thinking I was more than a problem he was solving that just conveniently came with sex. I feel so stupid for the times over these past couple of days I thought maybe he really liked me. I definitely feel stupid for all the times it’s crossed my mind how much I’m starting to like him.
It’s crazy, because we’ve only known each other for a weekend, but it felt like longer to me. Granted, they were a really immersive couple of days, and being with Brant feels so natural and comfortable, like I’ve known him for ages.
Now I feel rejected and disappointed and unwanted and misunderstood, and it all stings.
I also wish he had waited until after the movie to ruin my night with his awful talk, because once dinner’s over, I don’t feel like watching it anymore. I do the dishes since I imagine he’ll take me home first thing in the morning, and even though I’m mad at him, I want to leave the place clean. I worked hard to scrub this place until every surface sparkled; he might as well enjoy it for at least a day until he bachelors it back up again.
After dinner, I can tell he’s ready to be done fighting, but I’m not. All those awful things he said to me don’t just go in one ear and out the other like he must expect them to since he thinks I’m some kind of idiot.
When he comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist at the sink, I ignore him. When he starts running his lips up and down the side of my neck, I reject the way my stupid body shudders with pleasure.
When he murmurs, “You ready to watch that movie?” I have every intention of telling him I’m too tired and I want to go to bed.
When I open my mouth, though, I can’t seem to find the words. As much as one part of me just wants to go to sleep and be done with this whole ordeal since he clearly is, the other part wants to make the most of my last night here. I can be mad at him after he takes me home and I have to get over him; for now, I might as well enjoy a few extra moments with the big jerk.
We do watch the movie, and it ends up being a pretty bad idea. Everything that happens in it feels to me like a shadow of our weekend together, just without the happy ending. No, Brant’s not some rich investor in town on business, but I do feel a little like the hooker he only intended to pass a little time with, especially at the end, when she’s feeling things for him and they both want to see each other again, but he’s being a stupid dumb guy about it and she ends up having to go off on her own, just changed by their few days together.
Since it’s a movie, of course it doesn’t end there. Of course he pulls his head out of his ass right before it’s too late and realizes he doesn’t want to go on without her.
Since this isn’t a movie, that’s not how things will go for me.
Since my story isn’t any kind of love story, Brant doesn’t take me upstairs, kiss me on the mouth, and make slow, passionate love to me. He doesn’t realize he’d like to keep seeing me, or that he was just being an ogre at dinner because he doesn’t want any other man’s hands on me—not just Theo’s—and it’s because he cares. He doesn’t realize it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with his sister or his lack of confidence in me and the choices I make.
Instead, he showers alone while I pack my things in his bedroom. I put on the blue nightgown I wore the night he brought me here and climb into bed by myself. I curl up away from him and close my eyes when the bathroom door opens so he thinks I’m asleep. After the movie, I asked if I could turn my phone on and charge it overnight, but he wouldn’t let me.
It’s confusing to be half prisoner, half guest, to be half lover and half stranger. Maybe I am showing my age, maybe it’s my inexperience that makes it feel so cold and detached, but I hate it.
Brant climbs into bed on his side. He doesn’t move toward me, but I’m so aware of his proximity. I guess since I pretended to be asleep, I shouldn’t be surprised that he doesn’t bother me, but the longer he doesn’t touch me, the more anxious I get.
Finally, I give up and roll over to face him. He looks over at me in surprise but doesn’t say anything.
That’s all right, because my mind is full and I can carry the conversation. “What kind of girl do you like?”
His eyebrows rise, like that’s maybe the last thing he expected me to ask. “Why?”
I shrug. “Just curious. Am I anything like someone you’d date, or do you usually go for women who aren’t anything like me?”
“I don’t really date.”
That is at once disappointing and a relief. It’s a relief because that means it’s not necessarily personal—it’s not that he doesn’t want me, it’s thathe doesn’t want to be with anybody—but disappointing because… well, I think I might have some kind of ill-fated crush on him.
“Why not?” I inquire.
“I don’t have the time or the interest, I guess.”
“You don’t like having someone around to regularly have sex with? To have dinner with and spend your days off with?”
“Well, no, I like all that.”
“Isn’t that dating?” I ask, lifting an eyebrow. “What parts aren’t you interested in?”
“Conversations like these,” he offers dryly.
I give him a deadpan look. “Hysterical.”
He cracks a smile, then scoots closer on the bed. “Where’s all this coming from?”
It seems painfully obvious to me where it’s coming from, and I can’t believe it isn’t plainly obvious to him, too. “I feel like you’re like Edward and I’m your Vivian. You’re so used to being alone and stuck in your ways, you won’t make room in your life for someone else, even if she’s super flexible and you enjoy being with her. At least, I think you’ve enjoyed being with me this weekend.”
“Of course I have.”
“So, am I ever going to see you again after you drop me off tomorrow?” I demand.
Seemingly at a loss for what to say, he answers, “I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you know? It’s up to you, isn’t it? It’s certainly not up to me. None of this has been up to me. You just barge into my life and do whatever you want, and I’m perfectly accommodating, going along with everything, and still I get discarded.”
Scowling, he echoes, “Discarded?”
“It’s bullshit,” I state, annoyed at him all over again. I roll over, not wanting to look at him anymore, and haul the bed sheet up around me like it can shield me.
It doesn’t. Brant scoots all the way over until he’s pressed up against me, then he slides an arm around my waist and tugs me tightly against his body. “You sure are crabby tonight,” he tells me.
“I feel like I’m being dumped, and I didn’t even get the relationship first,” I tell him, just as grouchy as he accused me of being.
“I think your pregnancy hormones might be making you crazy,” he suggests. “I don’t know where all of this is coming from. Everything isn’t up to me. I just offered to let you move into my cabin, didn’t I? I’d certainly see you on occasion if you did, but that’s up to you,not me.”
“That’s not what I mean,” I offer back more quietly. The reminder of his generous offer makes me feel guilty for being so mad at him, even if he did say some stupid things. He’s a good guy and he made me a thoughtful offer, it’s just… I want him to like me, and I can’t get past the disappointment of realizing maybe he simply doesn’t.
Absently tracing shapes on my skin with his fingertips, he asks patiently, “What’s the problem, Alyssa?”
“Maybe I want more,” I say quietly.
“More,” he repeats, like he’s rolling the word around, trying to decide what it means.
“I don’t want to be just your neighbor, or a problem you’re fixing,” I tell him, my heart practically pounding out of my chest as I say these things. I’m tempted to roll back over so I can look him in the face and observe his reactions, but I keep my back to him for just that reason. Maybe I don’t want to see his thoughts as they roll across his face, not about this.
He’s quiet for a minute, then asks, “What do you want to be?”
I swallow, resting my hand over his on my waist, then turn over to brave meeting his gaze. “I like you.”
“I like you, too.”
I scoot closer, sliding my smooth leg between his and wrapping my arm around his waist. “I think you’re a great man, and I like being here with you.” I lean in, pressing a kiss to his chest, then I look up at him from beneath my eyelashes. “I like keeping your belly full and your balls empty.”
“Christ,” he mutters, pushing his fingers through my hair.
I feel his cock jerk against my knee, so I snake a hand down and wrap my fingers around it. I move my lips across his bare chest, kissing him where he lets me while I stroke his cock. “I think you like that, too,” I say with playful innocence.
“Of course I like that,” he murmurs, pulling my face closer to his body.
I follow his lead, kissing all over his chest as I climb on top of him. I wiggle my ass against his hard cock until I need to get beneath it, then I lift myself up, grazing him with my nightgown as I pass over it.
“Take that off,” he orders gruffly, eyeing the garment like it’s something distasteful.
I reach down and grab the hem of my nightgown, tug it off, and toss it on the floor. Completely naked now, I catch my breasts in the palms of my hands and watch the lust simmer on Brant’s face while I play with them. “You like these, Brant?” I tease.
“You have perfect tits,” he informs me, not mincing words. “Absolutely perfect.”
I beam with pleasure under his praise of my body, then I bring my breasts together and slide his dick between them.
“Oh, fuck,” he mutters, throwing his head back against the pillow.
I move my breasts up and down his shaft a few more times, then I tilt my head and lick the tip. When he groans, I release my breasts and grasp his cock with one hand and his balls with the other, pumping and massaging as I lower my mouth over him.
I suck him for a few minutes then I pop off, resituate myself so I’m straddling him, and lower myself onto his hard cock until he’s fully impaling me.
My insides are tight and twisted with arousal, but as I start to ride him, I feel the first trickles of relief. He feels so incredible inside me, his thickness stretching me every time I lower myself down onto him. I love how full I feel when his whole cock is inside me.
I’m just about to lift myself and take him inside me so I can experience the sensation again when his hands suddenly lock onto my hips and he pulls me all the way off, lifting me and twisting me until I’m face down on the bed with my ass in the air.
My heart pounds, but I keep my ass up and wait. After a few seconds pass and he’s still looking at me instead of resuming fucking me, I ask, “Are you—are you gonna take my ass?”
“Thinking about it.”
“Okay. Just please use lube if you do,” I tell him as he runs his hand over the smooth curve of my butt.
“Haven’t decided yet. I want your pussy, but I don’t like there being a hole of yours that someone else has fucked and I haven’t,” he murmurs, sliding his hand under me and pushing a finger deep into my pussy. “I want to fill both holes full of my cum, to be perfectly honest.”
“Do it, then,” I say, pushing back against his hand. “We have all night.”
Brant sighs, and I look back at him, still bent over while he decides. “You’re an angel on earth, you know that?”
I crack a smile. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“What am I not allowed to do to you?” he asks.
I hesitate, uncertain what he means. “Is there something specific you want to do to me?”
He shakes his head, holding my gaze. “Not really, I just want to know where your limits are.”
I shrug to the best of my ability, given the position I’m in. “I guess I’ll let you know if I find one. I’m not all that experienced yet, but I’m pretty open to trying whatever.”
“Not a lot of near virgins are willing to do anal,” he remarks, squeezing my ass then caressing it again.
Smirking, I toss back, “You know that from all the near virgins you’ve had sex with?”
That gives him pause. “Good point. Maybe I only assumed.”
“Well, you know what they say about—” My sentence cuts off on a gasp as Brant slides his dick into me. He’s in my pussy, not my butt, so I guess he made his decision. “Assuming,” I finish, sighing with pleasure as I lower my face to the bed and keep my butt up for him.
Brant holds on to my hips, pushing his forward as he buries himself inside me over and over again. I love each thrust a little more than the last, especially when I shift slightly and the pleasure of him pounding into me spikes so sharply I cry out.
“Oh, God, right there,” I tell him, gripping the bed to hold whatever position I just accidentally moved into. I cry out helplessly when he drives into me again, my pulse quickening, my breath coming in short, desperate drags. “Oh, God, Brant.”
“You like my cock, baby girl?”
“So much,” I say roughly, struggling to even breathe properly. I can feel pressure everywhere as he rams me—obviously it feels best between my legs, but it’s tightening in my chest and my stomach, too.
“You want more of it?” he asks.
“Yes, please. All of it. Give me all of it.”
Somehow, he drives deeper, and I just about lose my mind. My arms are flying everywhere as I flail and grab at the bed, meanwhile still trying to hold my ass where it feels the best. He drives home with every thrust and I cry out louder with every impact, finally screaming and clawing at the bed as he sends me hurtling over the edge. I cry out until my throat feels raw, Brant still fucking me, adding guttural groans and “Fucks” of his own, but I can scarcely hear him.
My head buzzes, like that explosion was too much and I won’t be able to think or hear properly for a couple days. My legs are jelly now, so I can’t angle my ass like I was, but my body continues to be thrown back and forth on the bed as Brant continues to use me.
Even sated, pleasure rolls through my belly at the thought. When he finally comes inside me, his fingers dig into my hips again, but I don’t complain this time. I welcome the bruises, because I know when I see them as I’m getting ready or showering back at home, they’ll remind me of the nights my body brought Brant so much pleasure, he lost control for a few seconds.
He pulls out and rolls off me pretty quick, but he’s as spent as I am, so he doesn’t go far. He falls onto the bed beside me, then reaches over to grab me and gathers me against his chest. I go willingly, happily snuggling up against him so his hot skin is pressed against mine.
“Fuck, I love your pussy,” he tells me, breathing hard as he comes down from that orgasm.
“It’s a big fan of yours, too,” I tell him, sliding my hand across his shoulder and then hugging him tight. I can’t get close enough to him in these post-orgasmic moments. I crave the closeness so much, I’d crawl inside him if I could. His arms locked around me the way they are make me feel safe and protected, like nothing and no one could ever dare hurt me when I’m in Brant’s embrace.
Of course, he’s probably the thing most likely to hurt me. Even now, I’m desperate for a deeper hit of affection. If he bent his head and kissed me while holding me like this, I’d be his.
I guess that’s why he doesn’t.
The reminder that he wants to fuck me but doesn’t want me brings me back down a little. Not far enough to completely ruin my buzz, not enough to pull me from his arms, but it tarnishes my happiness ever so slightly.
We lie there tangled together for so long, Brant falls asleep.
My body is exhausted, but as the bliss from the orgasm begins to fade, my heart grows heavier. I don’t want to fall asleep; I want to stay here just the way I am, wrapped up in Brant’s arms, our naked bodies entwined like we’re lovers. I guess in the most technical of ways, we are, but I can’t help thinking we could have had more. I can’t help wishing I didn’t have to tell him that, wishing he’d decide on his own that he’s not taking me back home because he wants to keep me here with him.
Doesn’t seem to be in the cards for me, so I guess I’ll just try to stay awake and soak up a few more memories to take with me. Maybe I am an idiot for developing feelings for him, but how was I supposed to help it? When he’s not being mean and stupid, Brant’s amazing.
I sigh, letting my eyes travel over the strong planes of his handsome face. I don’t remember thinking he was the most handsome man in the world the night he showed up in my bedroom and I saw him for the first time, but that might’ve had something to do with me thinking he was going to kill me. When I look at him now, I can’t imagine looking at another man and thinking he could even hold a candle to Brant.
Since my eyes are so heavy, once I’ve looked my fill of him, I rest my head on his firm pectoral muscle and close my eyes. I’m not going to go to sleep yet, just need to rest my eyes for a minute. Then I’ll resume memorizing Brant, just in case I never get to hold him and see him like this again.
My heavy eyes drift shut and I’m filled with peace, listening to Brant’s strong heart beat steadily in his chest. It works like a lullaby, and before I know it, I’m out.
