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Two-way street


“What are you lookin’ at?” Briar asks between bites, lips scrunching up to her nose, making that cute face she does.

Leaning my back against the fridge, arms crossed over my shirt, I just stare at her. Full on blatantly, not nervous, not trying to steal glimpses, but owning them. Not holding back.

“You,” I respond with a genuine smile. Her cheeks flush a faint shade of pink, which I love, looking down at the piece of pizza in her hand, pretending to examine it before shifting her gaze back to mine.

“Stop, you weirdo.” Briar laughs, tossing a balled up paper towel at me before tucking a dark strand behind her ear, losing the battle of suppressing a grin over her full lips. Trying to look away, but returning her eyes to me each time.

She feels something for me? She said it. I can’t wrap my head around that knowledge. I don’t wanna rush it, but also, we’ve covered more ground in an hour than most do in months. I’m okay with it. I want more of it. But I am glad we’re here... just the two of us.

Kyra avoided being around my family, said my sisters exhausted her, which I can’t disagree with. She would’ve never let the girls climb on her and make whatever mess they did in her hair—which Briar struggled to undo on the drive over here.

“Stop,” she repeats, the blush on her face growing a few shades deeper.

“I don’t want to.” I walk over towards her, just sitting there, right in front of me. My fucking dream girl. I meant it. I’m stealing all the moments. I meant the fucking dream girl thing, too. I wanna stare at her till she leaves, and then I wanna stare at her some more.


“Because I’m so into you.”

I said it, not like she doesn't already know. I wanna say so much more, but I'm scared I'll freak her out. Fuck it, the gloves are off, at least in my head. I know I gotta take her lead, but I'm not gonna pretend. And I don't care if my heart gets mangled, so long as it's by her.

“Why?” she asks again, pulling her top lip between her teeth.

Because you’re gorgeous, you’re funny, you successfully won over my entire family in a matter of minutes. You surprise me. You scare me. You make me feel something unparalleled to anything I’ve ever felt. You make me feel like a man—she definitely makes me feel like a man.

But that would be too much. So I shrug. “I just am.”

I catch her legs, crossed at the ankles, swinging back and forth as she sits on my sister’s kitchen counter. Briar looks at me with raised brows. Actually, she’s doing some kind of weird thing with them where she scowls, arches them, crinkles her nose, eyes squinting.

She lets out a huff, taking a bite from the pizza that I found in Tara’s freezer. Briar stating if she didn’t eat, she may get hangry, and no one wants to deal with her like that. When I apologized that frozen pizza was the only thing in the house, she told me it’s actually her favorite. Which I don’t buy. She’s not making the sounds she made while eating that bacon cheeseburger. The sounds I’m hoping she’ll be making shortly, with me.

She also told me to stop fucking apologizing for shit I can’t control.

Same thing she said after I kept saying sorry about my family, about Tara’s fucking work friend. Note to self, don’t let my sisters push any more women on me.

Oh for two so far in that department.

“What are you doing?” I ask, watching Briar’s face contort in a funny way, unraveling her ankles to stand between her legs. She recrosses them around my waist, pulling me to her. Damn, I remember those powerful thighs from Chaz’s bathroom.

I arch a single eyebrow, and she heaves an exasperated groan, flinging her head back while I settle my palms over her hips.

“It’s actually bullshit,” she complains, head shaking. I bunch my lips to the side, sliding her towards me, waist level with mine. Flicking her wrist, she shoves the slice in my face, offering a bite. “Certain people should not be able to do the one eyebrow raise, and the rest of us have to suffer.”

I respond with a close lipped laugh, chewing the food, which is surprisingly not bad, for what it is.

She’s stayed relaxed, stayed this version of Briar that I’ve seen glimpses of, the one I really like, laughing on the way over here about how I had to break up with someone I didn’t even know was my girlfriend. That my family, sisters, and our stupid argument were probably good to get outta the way. Saying everything between the two of us, so far, has been a matter of weird timing.

I like that she didn’t say bad timing.

After the issue, or whatever you wanna call it, with Amy—what the fuck was that? I’d made myself completely clear to her I was only interested in casual. We hadn’t even made plans to go on another date. My failure to launch was a hit to my ego. I figured it was best to leave well enough alone. I’m actually glad it didn’t happen, now that I’m here, my hands skimming up the thighs of Briar’s jeans.

Truth be told, I think I was secretly hoping the Universe would finally shift in my favor—can’t fucking believe it did—and I’d land myself back between the legs of this smokin’ hot brunette.

So, after that, still out front of my parents’ house, Amy having peeled down the driveway. Briar defended my honor, which... uncomfortable? Yeah, little bit. But also... hell fucking yeah! The loud sounds of gravel kicking up from the tires of her car surrounded us while she shot a zero fucks smile at my sister and I.

Tara quickly undid the key from her ring, tossing it to me. Telling us—more like demanding—to stay at her place for the night, she’d crash at our parents, explain that shit went sideways. Molly would get over us leaving her party early.

Briar tried to protest, said she didn’t want to seem rude. We both, at that point, assured her she had nothing to worry about. My sisters, Mom and Dad included, provide pretty swift judgement on the people I bring around. And trust me when I say I’m going to listen to them on that shit now. They seem to know whose intentions are pure and whose aren’t.

Funny thing about Briar, she tries to play it off like she doesn’t care what others think about her. But I’m certain now, and I’d thought it before, she’s actually the opposite. She’s got insecurities that run deeper than she wants to let on.

Anyway, speaking of pure intentions. Mine definitely aren’t right now, Briar’s legs tightening around me, pulling me against her body, sending a deafening wake up call straight to my dick. Who, of course, pops up immediately.

“What’d she even mean... you couldn’t get it—” she asks, flickering her eyes, and a pointed finger to the ceiling.

While she claimed she was fine after the ordeal, that shit happens in the past and we can’t change it. That’s true. But it also lets me know that when she said nothing serious back to me earlier, that she’d maybe been seeing someone, too.

While I can’t say shit or get mad... it stings.

Her forehead presses against mine, chocolate eyes peering so intensely as her hips grind over the front of my jeans. I groan at the contact that has me twitching, erection begging to be freed and buried inside her. “You seem to have no problems rocking a boner.” She chuckles, letting her nose nudge into mine.

“She wasn’t you,” I say, and I mean it, my tongue brushing over her bottom lip. I also love that she says funny shit.

“Hmm. Smooth talker.” She dances her fingers over my shoulders, up through my hair. A devilish smirk playing on her lips as she gives a solid tug. God damn, why’s that so hot?

“Trying to be,” I reply, zeroing in on her mouth.

“You’re doing well.” The warmth of her breath heats over my face. “For example.” She smashes her lips against mine, pulling away with a loud smack. “When you told me to come earlier, you know, while I was sitting on your face...”

A carefree laugh leaves my lips as I shake my head. Briar lifts a shoulder. Still in her clothes from earlier—both of us are—bodies flush against each other’s. She tilts her chin unapologetically with an anything but innocent grin, blindingly white teeth on display.

Okay, I like this Briar, too.

“That shit’s hot, keep it up.”

“Got it. So, you like me saying dirty things.” I sink my lips to the smooth skin of her neck. “To be in control.” Teeth graze lightly over her collarbone, finishing with a short trail of my tongue, just enough to make a whimper leave her mouth.


“Rough,” I add, trying to make sure I’m all the things she wants me to be.

“I swear you really take notes,” Briar replies, leaning back. “But only if that’s how you like to be.” Her eyes narrow at me in the small confines of the kitchen area. Tara’s house is nice, not really big but more than enough for her and her boyfriend, or fiancé, now.

She’d offered for me to move in, but they’d just gotten engaged right around the time my shit went south, he’s away for his job on weekends, working as a pilot. The first week, I stayed in the guest room, and after hearing things no sibling should, I decided it was safer at my parents, where I could be a few floors above any potential sounds.

Not to mention having to be around Kyra’s brother whenever he’s home... it’s getting better, but still fucking weird.

“I like the hair pulling thing.” She drags me from my thoughts, tugging at my waves. “Do you?”

I let out a quiet grunt in response, catching her lips with mine. Running a hand up her spine, I collect her long locks in my fist, gripping tight, yanking gently so her head falls back. Sinking my mouth over her neck, tongue sliding along her skin, which tastes almost as sweet as her—

“Pussy licking is clearly your thing.” She bats her lashes, trying and failing to contain the giggle that erupts from her mouth when I jerk my head back. One of those full body shaking, teeth mashed together, nose crinkled, laughs.

“Your mouth is filthy,” I rasp out the words, grasping her jaw with my hand that isn’t clutched to her dark hair, thumb tracing over her lips before she clamps her mouth around, making me stare and fixate on it in a super sexual way.

“You should definitely not see my mind,” she says, after releasing my finger, raising her brows with a smirk.

Everything about Briar screams sex. Not in a way that I wanna objectify because of it. Just in a way that everything, and I mean every single thing she does, makes her even sexier than the last.

Jumping right in with my mom, my sisters—who are a handful for even the most skilled—not to mention my dad. He’s a man of even fewer words than me. When she met him, before he took off, heading outside, that’s normally how it goes in my family. The guys go out back, let the kids run around, while the women get a break. Anyway, when they met, the way he looked at her, the approving smile he shot at me. That’s something he never did with my ex.

Not just the fact that she fits perfectly in with my family, kind of like the way my body had fit behind hers in the hotel, my hand fits in hers, my dick... well, that too. The way she kept her cool, because let’s be real, the second Amy said Briar’s name was cute, I coulda sworn I saw her sharpening her claws. And I think maybe it would’ve gotten there if I hadn’t taken her outside.

But nothing screams confidence more than being quiet sometimes. She had to know there was no match there.

“So no more backwards?” I ask, my hand gripping the nape of her neck, forcing her lips to mine. My tongue slipping into her mouth, feeling the smile curving around our kiss.

Wrapping her arms tighter around my neck, Briar scratches her nails up from the back, weaving her fingertips through my hair. “Any more crazy surprises for me this weekend?”

I shake my head no, lips sliding over her cheek.

I mean, here’s fucking hoping.

“So, what now?” she asks with an exaggerated sigh. “Should we watch a movie?” She clicks her tongue. “Call it a night?”

“I don’t think I plan on letting you sleep,” I answer, my face directly in hers, peppering kisses across her cheek, under her ear, enjoying the way her back arches as I glide my hands down it, landing on her ass, giving a squeeze that releases a moan from her mouth.

“Well, okay.”

“You wanna get real wild?”

She nods, eyes lit up under waggling brows.


So, we went on about our favorite foods, bands, movies, all the normal questions, just taking the last hour getting to know more about each other. Which three outta three, she was a ringer; nachos, alternative rock style, and anything Marvel.

When I asked her, and I guess shame on me, but I felt like it was fair to wanna know about her family. I felt like she knew so much about mine.

When I questioned what her life was like, growing up...

The Briar from back in the elevator reappeared.


I froze. I couldn’t help it, I felt so many feelings so fast, when Trey asked about my parents, about more than what they do for work; I’ve already told him that. He wanted to know what my life was like as a kid. The fuck was I supposed to say? My dad loves me, but always lets my mom bulldoze everything. She’s not proud of me. I’m not even sure she likes me.

Was I gonna tell him that Evelyn—Chaz’s mom—and Cecilia would get together three times a week to drink lunch and ditch us. Leaving two children to roam the country club together. I mean, there were plenty of good times with that, and it led me to him. Despite that, as you get older, and especially seeing a mother doting on her grown children—five of them, no less—it makes me wonder how mine couldn’t pay attention to the one she had.


“Ugh!” I groan, turning off the water, having abruptly put an end to a conversation that was actually amazing, seeing the confused look when I quickly left Trey, saying I needed a shower. “You fucking idiot,” I tell my reflection, wiping the fogged up mirror. “This guy is all about you, and you’re all about him, and you are being a scared bitch.”

I nod back at my own damn self. Yeah, also officially lost it. But shit, feelings are fucktangular or whatever nonsense Court said. I’ve always ran. Ran to Arizona, to New York, to Philly, to Georgia, and now from the living room, where I left him, sitting on the sofa.

Maybe it’s time to just meet this shit head on.

I whip my wet hair up into a bun, toss on a t-shirt, throw on a pair of shorts. Okay, they aren’t shorts, they’re Trey’s briefs, the ones he left for me at the hotel, worn ’em almost every night. And you know what? He deserves to be aware of that fact. Because while he said dream girl, multiple times, there’s something inside me hinting that he might actually be my... dream guy.

“So here’s the thing.” I walk out to the living room, Trey lounging across the brown microfiber sofa, hands behind his head. Standing at the side of the couch, looking down at his handsome face, he stares back at me, doing that stupid fucking one eyebrow raise. “I don’t like feelings. I don’t like that you make me feel feelings, I don’t like that I wanna tell you things about me, things I don’t even wanna tell myself. I don’t like that I wanna know everything about you.”

His lips curve into a wide grin. Gripping my arms, he gives a gentle tug, prompting me to lower my face to his. My knees falling against the armrest, his hair feathering over the insides of my thighs. “Is that all?” he asks in that deep and honestly panty—or brief—drenching voice.

“I don’t like that you’re so much...” I avert my eyes from his jade ones, clearly amused at my blabbering mouth. “You’re so much more. And I don’t like that you scare me. I don’t want to tell you about my family because I think it’ll make you like me less. I don’t like that I’m scared you’ll hurt me.”

He laughs, reaching up, grabbing the back of my neck, pulling me down to him. With our eyes level, he places a gentle kiss on my forehead. “That’s a lot of things you don’t like,” he whispers as I pull back slightly, gaze staying on mine. “We don’t have to talk about anything too fast.”

I study his even expression, taking a deep breath, cupping his cheeks, facial hair tickling my palms. How does he have this way about him that just makes a sense of tranquility flood through my body?

Brushing his lips over mine. “I won’t hurt you,” he speaks the words with sincerity right before he claims my mouth with his. My hands on his face, his drifting to my back, in one of the deepest, tongue twisting, goosebump spreading, moan inducing, upside down, Spider-Man kisses of my life.

“Okay, so that’s that,” I say after breaking the mouth to mouth. Guess the cards are on the table.

“That’s that,” he replies, tilting his head back on the armrest, his face literally landing between my legs. A slight whimper slips out and a wicked type of gleam flashes in his eyes. “So... let’s focus on things you do like,” he says, casually as a playful darkness shifts into those pale irises. Trey tips his head further so his nose lands directly—

“Woah!” I try to pull away as his hands grasp at the waistband of his—yeah, I’m just not gonna say it. Staring down at him with wide eyes, he licks his lips and my heart gets jamming. Pulse kicking up in my chest, neck, and most definitely in my already—of course—heated core.

“Take these off,” he says, his voice thick with that husky, sexy, raspy sound. I nod, not even getting a chance as he yanks them from my hips. “And sit your amazing pussy on my face so I can fuck you with my mouth.”


I’m pretty sure my eyes are as wide as saucers. Before I can react or say anything—because I’m standing here, gawking—Trey hooks his arms around my bare thighs, pulling me right over his face. Seriously again? Also... fuuuuck.

I kick off the shorts—gonna go ahead and call them that—as my head tips back. A hard gasp leaves my mouth, knees buckling, smashing into the arm of the couch as he goes straight for it. Nothing slow about this time.

His tongue moves with precision, darting straight to my clit, then gliding over my wetness, front to back—not totally back, but yeah.

“Jesus, Trey!” I pant. This is his thing, it’s definitely his thing.

“Mm-hmm,” he hums, making me quiver. My jaw drops, eyes roll back in my head. Labored breaths escape my nostrils as he spreads me even wider. Two fingers plunging inside me, thrusting in and out while his tongue relentlessly circles. My body goes limp, collapsing over him, face landing on his rock hard abs. I try to scramble, or get ahold of something, my palms bracing on either side of his hips, every bit of that eight-pack tensing beneath my cheek.

“Oh, my God!” is all I can manage to squeak out as he works his magical hands and that mouth.

One arm clutching around my thigh, the other knuckles deep as my hips writhe over him, rolling, making the friction intensify. Already fighting and craving for that feeling that I know is gonna come—pun intended.

He doesn’t let up, doesn’t allow me to pull away, squirming as he sucks, and licks, and—“ahhh”—flicks, curling his fingers as I gasp out. He slips one back. Yeah, back. That wild sensation—like you wanna pull away because it’s so much, but you want more at the same time—reaching a new height.

Pulsing, plunging inside me, pushing me straight to the edge. That heavenly sensation building rapidly.

And I realize, with the single brain cell that’s still firing, if any of this, anything with him is gonna work, it’s gotta be a two-way street. I can’t be selfish, can’t only take, especially since he’s such a giver.




Palming him over the top of his jeans, I fumble, trying to undo the button and zipper, barely able to focus. Trey lets out a low grunt, face moving quickly side to side between my legs, mouth absolutely fucking me, and I free his impressive erection.

“Fuck!” he hisses or hums, making me a panting, whimpering mess as I take him in my mouth. My lips clasping around him, tongue swirling over the tip, getting a taste for what’s to come. Again with the puns.

Both of us speeding up, my hand corkscrewing over his shaft as my head snaps up, letting out a loud cry of pure ecstasy. His two fingers plowing into me. Well, three, because we are legit going two in the pink and—

“Holy shit!” I cry out as he reaches further, trying not to get too caught up in the exact position I’m in, and the fact that I don’t think I’ve ever... No, I’ve never let my body be in this vulnerable of a way.

Can we also quickly discuss how difficult it is to reciprocate this? How in the hell am I supposed to give an acceptable blow job when I’m getting the tongue rodeo of my life? Especially if you have someone clearly gifted in the oral department... It’s like Trey, sixty, Briar, nine. But I’m trying here.

Our hips move over and under each other, mouths fucking, lips sucking, almost like it’s a race to see who can get the other there first.

As that feeling builds and my body tenses. Clenching over his face, his fingers thrusting along with his tongue, Trey’s voice muffles out, his hand releasing my thigh. “Briar,” he says, out of breath, “I’m gonna—”

“Mm-hmm,” I answer, not letting up, gripping tight. A groan rips from his chest as I take as much of his cock in my mouth as humanly possible, eyes watering when he hits the back of my throat. Both of us tensing, muscles tightening, legs shaking, toes curling. And right as that immense surge of endorphins kicks in and courses through me, Trey attempts to lift me off him, not stopping his own movements, and trust me, I’m right there.

Holding tight, pumping my hand with the same unyielding pace he’s shown me, I keep my lips around him, sucking hard.

If I’m gonna come in his mouth, he absolutely gets to come in mine.

A/N: Well... 🤷‍♀️ that happened🥴🥴🥴🥴 PLEASE CLICK THAT ⭐️ if you enjoy. And like I always say... if not, why tf are you still here 😇😍

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