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Bold moves


“Good morning.”

A grumble escapes me as I stretch my arms, the mattress having dipped next to me. No shot I’m waking up from this dreamlike state anytime soon, not to mention the high thread count sheets beneath me that are like cool silk against the fully naked front of my body. Yeah, clothing was not happening after that breakthrough or whatever you wanna call it.

I keep my eyes squeezed shut, shaking my head, face pressed against the pillow which emits a perfect mixture of fabric softener, Trey’s scent of manly shampoo or whatever, mingling with a hint of crisp citrus meets wooded area smell.

Versace, Versace, Versace. That shit’s my kryptonite.

Also, I can’t just pluck out the name of a man’s cologne. I saw the bottle in his room, and it’s a gold medal winner.

After the ass to face—literally, at least as far as my ass goes—on Tara’s couch, which I definitely told Trey, I was thankful she didn’t decide to pull a change up and stroll through the front door. Imagine. That woulda been an eyeful. So once that happened, and I’ll be honest, I’d never been a real big fan of the whole sixty-nine thing—turns out, it’s a good time—we took things to the bedroom, and banged it out.

And then again.

And again.

And ya know... one more time, for good measure.

Four times, I shit you not. Pretty sure I couldn’t walk right now if I tried. Wasn’t as timid as the first time. Not so rushed as the second round gone straight sploogus interruptus. Trey actually told me that on top of the stuff I said, which I admitted I meant it—obvi—that he’d never hit it raw dog before... who knew? Anyway, both previous times had a certain level of intimacy, sure. Honestly, not like anything I’ve experienced.

But last night? Last night was definitely still intimate, in a completely different kinda way.

As we rapidly grow more comfortable with the other, maybe even ourselves, seems we both are down for, um, trying some new things.

I had no clue a pinky slip was something that would make fireworks, actual fireworks shoot off inside my body? I didn’t. In case you missed the references that’s exactly what happened.

Anyway, there was the missionary again—always a safe choice—cowgirl, reverse, and last, face down, ass up; at this point he’s done seen it, no shame anymore. All four were equally successful, getting us both to that promised land, the pinnacle, the blast off. Alright, you get it.

How can it be this way? How in the fucking fuck can I go from nothing to all, with one person? I mean, my list isn’t miles long, but I’ve had... um... several partners. How could none of them get me to that place Trey seems to have absolutely no problem finding?

Also helpful, he seems to recognize that the sensitive bud, the happy button, the swollen nub, the devil’s doorbell, the sweet spot, let’s call it what it is, the clitoris! The clit—don’t have to get too technical—is of the utmost importance during sex, it just is. And I am for reals okay with the fact that he pays ultra close attention to that detail.

Seriously though, how’s he so flipping good? My mind travels back to Chaz saying he’s only slept with one other person. I’m calling bullshit on that right now. There’s no way. Is there?

“Briar,” his husky voice drawls out my name, his warm touch running down my spine as I shake my head into the pillow.

“Nuh-uh,” I mumble, not wanting to open my eyes. Also, for sure, not wanting to open my mouth, no one should be subjected to morning breath—no one!

“I have to run out,” he whispers.

A wave of panic washes over me, a reminder of the morning in the hotel. Go? Where!? I flip over fast as fuck, sitting up, elbows propping me on the mattress. The blanket settling somewhere mid-waist as Trey’s eyes wander to my breasts. They aren’t huge, but a full C—he was good to them, as well.

“Wait... what?” The words come out high-pitched and needy. His quick grin instantly makes me calm down. Mother of God, am I already a full blow Trey addict? No, no, I just had a recollection and am harboring some regret about not responding to him, saving us both two months of silently pining for the other.

Annnnnd I’ll call bullshit on myself.

Also, he totes admitted to doing some internet research of his own, said he couldn’t find out quite as many details as I seemed to get. I told him no male can inter-stalk with the stealth and tenacity of a female seeking information.

Anyway, we agreed, none of this from now on, just ask each other what we wanna learn, which is nice. Trey didn’t press the family thing anymore. We didn’t talk about where we stand. But I think we all know this is more than a one weekend type of deal.

How will it work?

Will it work?

What if it doesn’t?

Ugh, fuck off, brain!

But I don’t want him to go anywhere. God, I really don’t want to leave tomorrow. I’m not gonna think about it.

Dark brows raise suggestively, still fixated on my chest, and it’s funny, because normally I’d be all oh lemme pull this sheet over my tits, and blah blah. Then he’d be you’re beautiful, don’t hide your body and all that shit. But I don’t feel like I need to cover up, not with him.

“Just to get coffee,” he answers, eyes slowly rising to mine with a little smirk. “Unless you don’t want any, and in that case, I wouldn’t mind if you wanna—”

“Godspeed,” I reply with a laugh, keeping my mouth closed as he moves in. The smell of his hair, freshly washed, still a little damp as he kisses the corner of my lips.

Pulling back, his hands landing on the sides of my neck, thumbs tipping my jaw, Trey’s questioning stare narrowing with a curious up and down. “You okay?”


“Hm?” His lips scrunch to the side. “Do you want anything else?”

“Nope,” I say in a garbled up kind of way, trying to act like I’m a ventriloquist or some shit.

“Why won’t you talk?” he asks with a scowl. I raise my shoulders, giving a slight grin, head shaking.

Finally, Trey leans back more than a few inches. I lift a palm to shield my mouth. “Morning breath,” I admit, with a quick cringe.

“Oh.” He chuckles. “I don’t care about that shit.”

He makes another attempt to go in for a kiss and I pull my lips between my teeth, unyielding when he gives a solid effort, his tongue prying while I hold strong with my denial.

“Come on.” He tucks a fallen strand of hair behind my ear, jutting his bottom lip. “You don’t want anything else?” he asks, and of course at the exact time my stomach lets out a soft protest to my head shaking no. “Hmm, I think you do.”

“I’m good,” I say from the side of my mouth, maintaining my hard pressed grin.

His sights travel to my bare chest as he inches closer. “What if I level the playing field?” he offers, pulling the t-shirt over his head, revealing a toned upper body, muscles sculpted beneath his tanned skin. My gaze shifts lower.

When I say the V is intoxicating, I’m not talking it up. The perfect groves, the distinct attention to that lovely junction of obliques and transversus abdominis, is enough to make any warm-blooded human—male or female—mouth water. Not to mention the floodgate it opens... yeah, you know where.

I stand my ground, laying my head back on the fluffy pillow, but no doubt enjoying the view as he straddles my waist. His playful pec flex has me chuckling, but nope, not gonna do it.

Trey’s fingertips flutter over my sides, and I deliver a smug expression in return. Nope, not ticklish. Okay, I am, but for some strange reason, only on the palms of my hands and soles of my feet.

“Okay, a different approach.” Throwing a challenging smirk at me, he slowly grinds his hips—of course covered in the cursed grey sweats—against mine. I think we can all attest that just the sight of an attractive and well kept man in those style of pants gets the pelvic wall exercises cranking.

I let out a low whimper as he seems to hit the exact spot I need him the most. Okay, it’s a nice blast of heat against my pussy, his cock gliding over me, connecting dead center and finishing with a little rotation of his hips into my clit, through the extremely thin bedsheet, forcing me to swallow a moan.

Also, if you haven’t noticed, I’m feeling very literal today.

I try to fight the gasps that threaten to escape. Trey’s face filled with determination as his large, firm—and we already know—skilled hands pin my hips, holding me down against the bed. His mouth trailing ardent kisses over my abdomen, tongue teasing around my navel as he works his way to my breasts. His jade eyes flash with that sweet, yet strikingly hot look, trying to lure me in with those dark lashes, as he covers my nipple, licking, sucking, a gentle bite that has my jaw dropping open with a not so subtle—“ahh.”

He jumps up quickly, lips covering mine as his tongue dives into my mouth, the damp ends of his hair skimming over my face as he delivers one of the best and most fervent morning kisses that has ever been kissed.


“You don’t play a fair game,” Briar’s sleepy voice rasps out as I pull my shirt back over my head.

“I’m not playing any games,” I respond with a quirk of my brow. But I kinda am. I mean, not as far as what I want with her, which I don’t even know? Okay, yeah the fuck I do.

I wanna spend every second soaking her in. I feel more alive just being in her presence. She shines wherever she is, takes up the entire room... and it’s addicting. The vibe that so easily emanates from her is consuming, in the best way.

I find it hard to believe that anyone would’ve ever treated her badly. Not to mention let her go.

Most definitely, though, she brings out something. This part of me I really like. I’m not sure if it’s that she brings it out, or she accepts it.

Either way, I’m in. I’m all in.

Briar rolls over in bed, back onto her front as I swat a palm over the toned up curve of her ass cheek.

She lets out a sassy, “Oh, give it to me, Daddy.” Quickly jerking her head up from the pillow when I freeze, meeting my scrunched nose, head tilting to the side. “Oh, God”—she groans—“I was absolutely not serious with that.” She chuckles, letting her forehead fall into the pillowcase with a second groan. “Please, please. Do not ruin my image of you. Tell me you are not into that.”

“I mean, if that’s your thing? Technically, I am older than you,” I joke.

“No, no,” she mumbles into the bedding. “Was kidding. For me, it would be the equivalent of you calling me Mommy. I’d dry up like a fossil.”

“A fossil?” I ask with a laugh. “What if the fossil’s in the water?”

She replies with a snort. “Must you challenge me? A grain of sand. Just roll with it, you get me.” Briar sighs, turning her head towards me, still half nuzzled in the pillow, long strands of dark hair trailing down the side of her intensely gorgeous face.

“I get you,” I agree with a grin. I do, I really do. I get her more than I’ve gotten anyone. “But I like to challenge you. A grain of sand? I think you can do better.”

“Drier than the dirt on a dark desert highway.” She laughs and I immediately join her amusement. “Sorry, these are actually the least disturbing responses running through my head. Some things shouldn’t be spoken. I’m totally random with my mouth.”

“I know.” Bending at the side of the bed, brushing the dark locks from off her face, I steal another moment, laying a kiss on her temple as she chuckles. “It’s actually one of my favorite things about you,” I add, getting a glimpse of the chocolate-colored iris, peering at me. Just enough of her face showing that I see the curve of her pouty lips pulled to a grin.

“I think everything about you is my favorite thing,” her voice barely a whisper, gaze tearing from mine as she briefly studies her black painted nail tracing a shape on the striped sheets before burying her face fully into the pillow.

And even though it shouldn’t, my heart drops. Because I can’t stop thinking about her leaving tomorrow.

I shouldn’t think about it, shouldn’t dwell on it, but I can’t help it. I’ve always been the type to plan ahead, calculating my next move, and I realize I can’t with her. Well, not all of it.

So I’ll try to enjoy it for now, try to be this playful flirty way that honestly is amazing, and like no way I’d ever dreamed of being before. Turns out saying some of the dirty things that have honestly shocked me. Also, that whole shock thing, that was a first—I’d never have had the guts to give that a whirl.

But the way her cheeks flush, watching Briar’s pupils dilate when I whispered against her ear that she felt amazing, that it blew my mind, amongst other things, when her body clenched around me. Some of the things flying out of my mouth I’d never have said in the past. Each one seemed to turn her on more. And damn, me too.

“If there’s stuff you want, tell me,” I say, putting on my sneakers. Briar shifting her head to the side, elbows bent, hands resting under her cheek.

“Agreed. Same goes for you.”

“I like everything you do. Everything.” Dragging a hand through my hair, sighing. I mean it, too. It all feels good with her, at least for me. I make sure it’s good for her. Being attentive to when her breathing pattern changes, when her head rolls back. The deep flush that flashes up her neck, and that look that still seems so surprised when her body, her legs, begin to shake underneath me. Or on top of me. Or in front.

Something about knowing no one else has experienced that with her definitely strokes my ego. Speaking of stroking. The blow job was top notch, and something about her, um... taking it to the end, swallowing the load I shot in her mouth, was so sexy I think I just stayed back to back with the hard-on. She wiped her lips with a devilish grin. Later she admitted she’d never in her life been a swallower. But she didn’t mind it.

Yeah... that’s a win.

Not just that, obviously not. I enjoyed the funny stories she shared last night about when she’d worked at the coffee shop. She started telling me about work; her approaching tests she’s been studying for to get her real estate license. About her and Chaz getting into trouble a lot when they were growing up. That it’s really only her and her parents, along with a great-aunt that makes up her family. She was opening up, and the more she does, the more I like about her.

“This thing.” Briar lifts her hand, index and middle finger sticking up as she gradually raises her pinky. “This thing was alright. Never, um... experienced that before.”

“Seemed to be something you enjoyed,” I say with a shrug. Still surprised this feels like a completely normal conversation. “I was just going with it.” I’ll admit, it was definitely a bold move for me. What can I say? She makes me wanna take a chance; to go for the things I want.

So, in the name of bold moves, because lately they’ve been my favorite. I trace the side of my hand down her back as she responds with an approving hum. My palm grazing over her ass before slipping between her legs, a definite tent already pitching in my sweats.

Briar’s right. I have zero issues with that, when it comes to her.

“Not dry at all.”

She swallows loudly as I take the finger coated with her wetness, pulling it casually from my lips. Always wanted to do that, too.

“Christ,” she breathes out the word as her mouth falls open. A few steady exhales accompany a sexy whimper. Her eyes glued to my hand. “Why is that so hot?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. I love that we’re figuring this shit out together, that she let me kiss her, because for me it had nothing, nothing to do with the morning breath, and everything to do with letting me in. And I definitely wanna keep getting in.

In more ways than one.


I’d brought back two coffees, remembering sugar only for hers. I’m not crazy about it, definitely don’t need it every day. But thinking back to the diner, I recall her saying that she can’t survive the day without at least two cups.

Briar asked what the plans were, what time we were going to my new space so that she could get her design on.

I’d admitted that I didn’t want it to seem like I was taking advantage of her in any way, that I was happy enough just to spend time with her.

She told me to be quiet. Actually, she said to shut the fuck up, but you know... in that Briar sort of way, where she’s just being herself, claiming that she was excited about it. Only if I wanted. But it was something she was genuinely looking forward to. Reminding me I can take advantage of her however I want.

She asked me questions about what I preferred, what my vision for the venue was. Favorite colors, the mood I wanted to set, clientele I wanted to attract.

I gave her a few answers. I want it to be classy, but not unapproachable, higher end just to distinguish from some of the other surrounding bars. I want it to stand out but not to be stuffy.

She said she’d got it.

And I have no doubts that she does.


We spent the day walking around downtown Savannah, and if you’ve never been there, treat yourself because it really is a beautiful place, year round. Mike, a friend who does all kinds of handiwork, and who I contracted to do all the installations, couldn’t meet us until five.

It was easy. She really is okay with chilling out, staring at architecture, people watching, and all kinds of things that require nothing. No flashy gestures, no money, happy to be experiencing a new place. And I’m happy to get to show her.


First thing when we walk in, walls completely bare, concrete covering the ground, Briar’s face lights up in one of the widest, beaming, truly mesmerizing types of smiles I’ve ever seen. Mike comes out from the back area, sectioned off for storage, an office, all the particulars, shooting me an approving glance, followed by a fit of laughter when she exclaims—so loud it echoes throughout the hollow space—that this is an actual wet dream come true.

The two discuss measurements, and a bunch of stuff that sounds like a foreign language to me. Briar nodding, Mike going over the original plans for the dance floor area, bar, seating, all the details. I’m just gonna sit back and watch the magic that I know she has, happen.

Snapping feverishly on her phone, taking pictures from every angle, and quickly sitting cross-legged on the concrete floor. Her old grey chucks situated under her jeans, hair tumbling carelessly down her back, the contrast of her purple top making her brown strands seem even darker. She flips open the laptop she toted along, pulling me down to sit next to her, motioning for Mike to join on the other side.

Closing her eyes for about a minute, I’m completely lost, staring at her. Seeing the smile curl over her lips, shoulders relaxing, a sort of calm seems to overtake her.

She begins working in a program, literally from the ground up. Sifting through various floor designs, ensuring me that the vinyl planks would be more durable, with less maintenance and a lower cost than the original hardwood flooring Kyra had chosen. Plus, easier to clean. Making sure I like the different ones she picks. Flipping from two-dimension to three as she adds in tables and chairs. Moving as fast as her whirlwind self goes, but I’m keeping up.

There really is something so entrancing, seeing someone fully in their element. Observing her do what she’s clearly meant to be doing.

She adds in more lighting, some sheer curtains for the ground to ceiling windows on two opposing walls, promising it won’t deter from the view. A neutral shade of paint for the rest of the area.

It’s incredible to see this completely blank slate come to life before my eyes. Made of nothing but a few ideas, growing and developing into something new. All of it coming from Briar’s mind, along with some of the vague ideas I had. Turns out, up till now I guess I truly had no idea what I wanted. Somehow, all of it, everything just feels like... me.

The nonstop clicking continues, a three-dimensional bar spanning the back wall, which is exactly where I wanted the one currently being constructed in my dad’s shop to go, a mirror behind it, reaching close to the ceiling. Briar claiming the reflection there, amongst other various spots throughout the entire place, would allow a decrease in the number of lights I’d originally planned for, saving me money up front, not to mention in electric bills. It would provide a more natural glow, and a more mature ambience.

Mike stares in awe, kinda like myself, with his jaw dropped. Both of us watch as she creates an amazing space on her computer screen. Briar getting up every few minutes, walking around, closing her eyes for a second or two and then her arms get going. Hands flying wildly in front of her as she somehow sees something else that should be added.

I say yes to all of it. Every detail down to the different colored lights to accent the mirrored wall behind the bar. The only thing I stand firm on changing is the blue, the one in the center. The one that will be the focal point according to her. Without a doubt, it absolutely has to be bright pink.


“Holy shit,” Mike says, walking behind me into the office space that’d been roughed out. “She’s absolutely—”

“Amazing.” I finish that sentence yet again as he nods.

Briar worked through the numbers, everything, and it was even lower than the previous budget. Offering ways to cut costs without making it appear cheap. Assuring Mike, she’d send him every detail. She explained that just because things are more expensive doesn’t make them better. Settling on table spacing, chairs, stools, you name it. Everything she chose, all of it, was perfect.

And for the first time in a while, I’m truly excited about opening this place.

“You better keep that one.” He claps a hand over my shoulder as I sign the check for him to purchase the flooring. Once that goes in, we can move a little faster.

Yesterday, at this time, if you told me I’d be shifting gears this fast I’d have said no way. No relationship. No fucking long distance. I don’t know if this will work.

“I’m gonna try.”

A/N: well... 💁‍♀️ Sorry it was long and I think a bit more informative but I’m ready for Bri to shineeeee!!!!
Thanks for reading. Please hit that star, and most importantly share your thoughts, comments. I know
I’m so super behind with responding, I’m getting there. Was a hell of a last week but still plugging away💕💕💕

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