from the night after the bonfire with Nessa and Beau

M A D I E

I didn't need to ask him twice. Bren closed the distance between us, caging me inside his arms as he pressed his palms to the shower wall. Resting his forehead against mine, he groaned as I stroked him again.

Bren's mouth lowered, and I thought he was going to kiss me. But steam swirled between our open mouths as he hovered there instead. "Why did you change your mind?" he rasped eventually.

"Nothing else matters besides you. Who cares what Nessa or Beau think." I ran my thumb over the tip of him, enjoying the slick feeling of his sensitive skin and the water running over it. "You're amazing, Bren. And I don't deserve—"

His hand flew over my mouth, cutting me off.

"What the hell did I tell you about saying shit like that?" Bren narrowed his eyes, whispering the slightly slurred words. And then those eyes fluttered shut as he groaned again. Though I wasn't sure if it was because of how I was touching him, sliding my palm over his length, or because of how I was running the tip of my tongue over his palm.

"Madie," Bren sighed, long and low. His hand fell away from my mouth.

He pressed it back against the shower wall, and I amended my earlier words. "I just want to make you feel amazing," I murmured. "Like you make me feel."

Bren sucked in a breath and stared down at me with dancing eyes. And then he kissed me hard. He thrust his tongue inside my mouth, ruthlessly tasting me. I was flooded with grainy traces of beer combined with the addictive flavor of...Bren.

I shivered, my wet hair trickling over my body. The glass-encased shower was steamy, but I longed for the hot water or Bren's body to warm me completely, to surround me.

Bren must have felt my shudder because he took me in his arms and spun us around so that I was beneath the water's spray. I couldn't help but let a satisfying sound sneak through my lips as Bren crushed against my naked front and a blazing stream ran down my back as he continued to kiss me. My fingers were still wrapped around him, but he reached between us, plucking my wrist and pulling me away.

He brought my hand to the neck of the showerhead. The water running through the metal made it fiery to the touch. "Is it too hot, or can you hold on?" Bren asked, his breath flirting with my ear.

I clutched the pipe, and warmth spread from the tips of my fingers down to my toes. "I can hold on, Bren."

"Mm, that's my girl," he murmured, making me smile. It was a little silly, but the words sent an army of warm flurries to attack my chest. Bren kissed the hollow beneath my ear, his lips brushing over my skin in a haphazard line as he took my other hand and placed it above me. I laced my fingers together.

And then I stood there, legs squeezed shut, rubbing fruitlessly against each other because I was aching to feel something besides the throbbing that had begun to overwhelm me. Water ran down my body, dripping over my breasts, rolling across my stomach. The stream practically scorched as it caressed between my legs, trailing to the floor.

Bren captured my lips with his once more. Then he took two steps back, practically hitting the far shower wall.

"Fuck, Madeline." He gaped at my body, eyes drunk from lust and Beau's endless collection of craft beers. The way Bren looked at me, I swear—nothing compared. Nothing turned me on more. And as if I hadn't already been ready to collapse from the weight of his heady gaze, Bren then reached down and grabbed his dick. He slowly stroked himself, continuing to study the scene before him—studying me.

"Bren."

He was touching what I wanted to touch. Shit, he was hard. And I was bared to him, ready.

His perusal ended as he lifted his eyes to mine. "Yeah, baby?" He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, catching some dripping water.

"God, you're hot," I moaned, saying the only thing on my mind as I appreciated everything that was Bren. His angled jaw clenched tightly at my words. Caramel brown eyes darkened. The water glimmered over his fine muscles. It ran along the veins on his forearm, falling over his fingers and onto his hard-as-fuck length. I was panting now, humidity consuming me. Bren consuming me.

He smiled a crooked smile. "You want me?"

"Yes," I practically sighed. A million times, yes. Always.

"You want this?" He fisted his erection.

"Oh my god, yes." Definitely yes. All of it. All of you.

I was completely lost—lost to how he made me feel, drunk in my own way. I was drunk in the best way. I parted my legs a fraction. Bren noticed, swearing beneath his breath.

He fell back against the shower wall, sliding a bit as his wet skin hit the dripping tiles. "What else do you want, Madie?" An eyebrow perked up as he examined me. His smile was quick to match it, tilting sideways.

My drunk boy was enjoying himself just a little too much.

"Bren," I whined. He knew what I wanted. And I wanted it now.

The air between us had never been denser. The heat was nearly tangible. I could almost feel it in my fingers, almost reach out and hold onto it.

Releasing his grip on his dick, Bren hoisted himself off the wall and stepped toward me. He murmured something, and I was pretty sure it was, "I think I know what you want."

He bent forward, catching a droplet in his mouth as it rolled to the tip of my breast. That was what I had wanted to do—lick away the water from his skin, kiss him everywhere. But all my thoughts vanished as Bren trailed his lips to my nipple; incoherent mutterings slipped from between my lips.

"Goddamn, you're fucking incredible," Bren grunted as his hands ran up over my hips so they could cup my breasts as he kissed and licked and sucked on them.

It was a miracle that I was still standing by the time he pulled away. He kissed me on the lips quickly before catching my gaze, watching me beneath heavy lids as his fingers traced a lazy path to where I was pulsing for him. I sucked in a breath—his breath since his mouth still lingered over mine—when he buried his fingers between my legs.

His eyes flared. "Jesus fucking christ, Madie. You're drenched."

All I could do was groan as he bent his head and kissed down my neck, his wet tongue licking at the pearls of water that decorated my body as his fingers flicked over my clit.

"Feeling how much you want me is blowing my goddamn mind," he growled. One of his hands was kneading my ass; the other stayed between my legs, exploring, teasing, driving me wild. God, the things he could do.

His head fell down between my breasts. It lolled there. He nuzzled into me and moaned against my skin. "Fuck, Madie," I heard him say, though it was muffled as he breathed against my chest. "You drive me crazy."

I normally might have laughed at his drunk whining, but I couldn't. Because I was sober, and even I was ready to fall apart and beg for him to give me everything.

Bren dragged his head down lower, his hair sticking and sliding along my stomach as he said, "I want to taste how much you want me."

I nearly lost it completely when Bren's long lashes flicked upward, his dark eyes zeroing in on my face as he placed his mouth between my legs and began to stroke his tongue where his fingers just were. He took one long lick, causing me to whimper. And then suddenly, Bren's heat left me.

"Still so fucking good. But I can't wait. Don't move, baby," I heard him say as he gave my ass a little slap. The playful caress shot an extra dose of desire straight to my core—as if I wasn't already burning inside—and I withheld a complaint at seeing Bren leave. He slipped from the shower, leaving me dizzy and disoriented.

I wasn't sure if he knew how much he was teasing me. Sometimes he did it on purpose, but tonight he seemed just as lost in everything as I was. His touch was a drug, and I wasn't sure I'd ever get used to the high it gave me. Especially not with the way he was acting right now.

His footsteps faded and disappeared as he padded out of the bathroom. I was weighed down with swirling anticipation for his return, but somehow I managed not to move. It was probably for the best that I didn't; I likely would have collapsed.

When the foggy shower door rolled open again, Bren leaned in the empty space. He bit his lip, keeping an eye on me as he rolled a condom over his length. The shower stream hit the floor between us in measured beats, nearly matching the pace of my racing heart.

"Can I have you in the shower, Madeline?" he asked lowly, repeating his words from earlier. Bren was cheeky and confident as he stepped into the spray, changing the rhythm of it. The water flattened his hair over his forehead, and he didn't bother pushing the strands away from his eyes.

"You know that answer, Bren. Look at me," I breathed. I was splayed out for him. My hands were still above my head, and I was waiting, soaking wet in more ways than one.

His eyes traveled up and down my body once. I could feel the path he made with them. "Oh, I'm looking at you."

"And you felt me," I added, my own voice low and hoarse. "You touched me. So you know."

"Fuck, you're right," Bren said, my words spurring him into action. His mouth found mine as his hands covered my breasts again, squeezing lightly before searching for more of my skin to touch and caress. "I do know, Madie." He lifted my leg, setting my foot on the built-in bench running along the shower wall. And then only after I was spread for him did he smooth his hands all the way up to mine.

"Can you hold on?" he asked again, wrapping his fingers over mine on the showerhead. Somehow I could feel his breath on my lips even through the steam of the shower. He rolled his forehead against mine and rocked his hips, his erection into me.

I nodded, and our hair tangled together. I honestly wasn't sure if I could hold on, but letting go of this—this moment—wasn't an option. And then Bren's arms also wrapped around me as he pushed my body back into the wall, and I knew I'd be okay. I would always be okay if I had him.

His deep voice filled my ear, groans intermingling with his words. "I want you, and I don't want to fucking hold back, Madie."

"Then don't, Bren," I insisted.

He didn't. Bren wasn't gentle when he thrust up into me. But it was everything I wanted, everything I needed. He filled me, hitting deep. Moans broke free from both of us, and Bren slammed into me again. His head bent into the crook of my neck, his teeth grazing my skin as his guttural sounds vibrated through my body.

I gasped his name. Or maybe it was a moan or a scream or a cry. I didn't know what it was, but his name was like a prayer with the way it was falling from my mouth repeatedly. Bren wasn't holding back, and he was stroking me in all the right places, all the hottest spots that no one else had ever hit.

I gripped the showerhead tighter despite wanting to run my hands down his back. Or lower, wanting to feel him as his hips jerked against my body. But thankfully, Bren took that moment to find my ear and say, "Touch me. Hold me." His words were tight little demands, slipped out between his moans and his thrusts. "It's okay. I've got you."

And so I did, dropping my hands—which had begun to tingle—into his hair first. I pressed his head further into my neck, where his mouth was sucking on my skin. My fingers tugged on his strands. He groaned in appreciation and thrust even harder, causing me to release my grip on his hair and move my hands further down. I roamed over his sculpted back, reaching as far as I could go.

Bren pulled his head back to look at me as he swore. "Fuck, you are everything, Madie."

"Yes, Bren." I kissed him, needing to taste those wet lips. And then all I could do was hold on as he drove into me, over and over again until we were both so high and riding it out until we couldn't bear it anymore.

Bren and I slowly collapsed as our shivers and shudders faded. Trying to find some balance, my hand flung out, attempting to grip the shower door. But it was no use. My fingers slid through the built-up moisture, streaking down the foggy glass as Bren and I fell down the shower wall. The temperature nozzle pressed into my back as I painfully scraped over it. But I barely noticed. The two of us landed in a heap of limbs on the shower floor.

"Ouch," I muttered as my leg twisted beneath him.

Bren chuckled into my mouth as he kissed me, refusing to let go completely. But he did adjust his weight, allowing me to untangle myself. And then he pulled me into his lap, so I was straddling him beneath the luke-warm water. It had begun to cool, its heat dimming with our fading sighs.

"That was amazing, baby." He kissed me again, lips gently roving over my mouth. "Fuck, that was amazing. But I feel amazing whenever I'm with you. You know that, right?"

"Yes," I gasped.

He tipped his head back, his eyes clearing a bit for the first time in a few hours. "It doesn't need to be sex." His voice was soft but demanding. Bren cupped my face, forcing me to look at him. "It would have felt amazing just to hold you in bed."

I smiled, trying to ignore the butterflies that erupted in my stomach when he gazed at me like that.

"But the sex is good," I said, smirking. I tried to joke. Mostly because the heat he was looking at me with now was a different kind of intensity than before. And it was making me feel something foreign and crazy. It was making me feel loved. I thought I had known before what that was like...but it was never like this. Never.

He raised a brow. "Just good?"

"No." I shook my head, laughing. "Not just good. Definitely not just good."

"Thank god," he breathed, leaning in to kiss me and smiling against my lips. His hands trailed down my back, sending a thrill through me. He cupped my ass, attempting to lift me before he wavered. I fell back into his lap.

"Nope," he grunted. "Bad idea. You're gonna have to get up yourself. I'm fucking spent." He sighed. "I wish I was that strong for you, baby, but I'm not. Not tonight, anyway."

I laughed, having to agree that it would have been a bad idea. Because after I stood up—on shaky legs myself—Bren wobbled a bit as he popped up.

"You're exactly as strong as I need you to be," I said, grabbing his hand and leading him out of the shower.

It was time for both of us to sleep.

And so we did, tumbling into bed with just towels covering us.

Unfortunately, the morning came too soon. It had been well after midnight by the time we crashed the night before, and I woke to Bren twisting in the sheets next to me. When I glanced over at him, he was frowning. There was a little crease between his brows that I didn't like seeing. "Hey you."

"Hey," I whispered, frowning back as I blinked away the sleep in my eyes. "What's up?"

He cleared his throat. But there was still some gravel left as he said, "I shouldn't have done that last night."

"What do you mean?" I turned on my side so I could face him.

"I was fucking tipsy. Shit, we're lucky I didn't slip and fall. That's the last thing—"

"Bren."

He rolled onto his side as well. His hair wild, his eyes tired but warm. Always warm, because...well, because he was Bren Hadaway. He sighed. "Yeah?"

"I loved last night."

I loved it all.

His smile was reluctant, but it broke free. And then he threw his arm around my waist, pulled me close, and kissed me until we were both completely awake.

Finally.

Finally, I was completely awake.

🖤

Thanks again for all the support you've given me! If you haven't seen it yet, The Fire We Started is now up. Hopefully I will announce soon when chapters are going to start updating. Much love!