“Look, don’t let him wreck this night,” pleaded Brielle, grabbing his arm as he went to pull away. “I’ve been having such a good time.”
“Okay,” said Damon, still staring a hole in Chauncey’s back, as though making a note of where to stick the knife. He was still holding her loosely. Brielle changed tactics.
“Fine, be like that,” said Brielle, disengaging herself from Damon’s arms. “If you want to act stupid more than you want to be with me, I’m outta here.” Damon shook his head to clear it and looked at Brielle. With her heels on, she almost met him eye to eye.
“I’m straight,” he said, and exhaled audibly.
Brielle still looked angry.
“You going to be salty all night?” asked Damon.
“I’m deciding,” she said, folding her arms in front of her. Damon fondled one hand and then reached up to touch her hair, just behind her left ear, in a feather light touch and sent a thrill through Brielle.
“Don’t be mad, okay,” he wheedled, murmuring into her ear.
“I can’t even stay mad when I’m around you,” said Brielle with a mock pout.
Damon laughed and took her back in his arms to finish the dance.
“You are a very cute chick,” he said and pulled back into his arms, resolving to talk to Chauncey on Monday. “I like you better when you’re smiling.”
A little later, Damon convinced Brielle to go and sit with him in the car. They got into the back seat and talked for a little while. Brielle complained about the cold and Damon took off his jacket and helped her put it around her shoulders. He hugged her close.
“I’ll keep you warm,” he said. “Alone, at last.”
He leaned over and kissed her on the lips. They had been kissing for a few minutes when Damon stopped, breathing ragged. He took off his glasses and tossed them into the front seat. Brielle looked at him with a question in his eyes.
“They were getting fogged up,” he murmured, nuzzling her throat. “You make me hot.” He’d already pulled off his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt.
Brielle was feeling hot, too. So hot she was scaring herself, but she didn’t say anything because she liked what she was feeling. She could feel Damon’s heart pounding though his dress shirt. He caught her hand and eased it into his shirt. She could feel his smoothly muscled chest and her own heart started pounding, too. He eased the straps of her dress down. He hugged Brielle to him and felt her warm soft skin. Both of them moaned. Any thoughts of secondary virginity flew out of Damon’s head on wings of lust so strong he was shaking. Since they were both tall, maneuvering in Damon’s back seat was not that easy.
The windows of the Taurus were cloudy with steam. Stopping was the hardest thing that Damon had ever done. He was aching and sweating and mad at himself for starting the whole scene. Well, not the whole thing. He’d started out with the plan for a little innocent kissing and stroking. That went well. Except the next thing he knew, the straps of Brielle’s fragile gown were down around her waist and Damon’s hands were all over her breasts. Even that hadn’t sounded warning bells in his head. What made it worse was that once they got past the initial reluctant stage Brielle was all in and had left it up to Damon to stop things. Didn’t she know that dudes weren’t reliable when it came to stuff like this? He might have a mental commitment to secondary virginity, but hanging out in his car with her smelling like something good to eat, baby soft love was going to take him straight back down the path to sex. Which his body protested, felt good. No, beyond good. Like something that you never wanted to end but would kill a brother in the end because it was like a drug. Do it and crave more.
Even though Brielle had become the aggressor, Damon put a stop to things by easing away from her and holding her in place with his hands on her shoulders. Sex would be great with Brielle, but not yet. He was shooting for the long run, right? She was too young and he was going someplace else besides Lansing and if he did not stop now he was going to say screw it. No, he was going to get screwed, which his body was all for in the short run. The condom his brother David had pressed on him before he left the house was burning a hole in his wallet. Ten more seconds and the short run was going to win out. Girls should have a warning label stamped on their chests that they were like crack. One hit and a brother was all in. He shook his head again.
What brought his mind straight crash landing out of heat and sex was when Brielle unzipped his pants. He jumped like she’d hit him with a Taser, grabbed her hand and reared back, away from her.
“Damon,” she asked, uncertain. “What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong.”
“No, baby,” he said, gently.
“I have a condom,” she said. Damon sat up so straight his spine cracked like knuckles.
“Where the heck did you get a condom?” he demanded.
“From Sammie,” said Brielle, easing into a sitting position. “She said just in case.”
“Just in case?” he asked incredulous. “Sammie?”
“She got it in health class.”
“You came here planning to have sex with me? You do that with all the dudes you go out with?” He knew he was acting irrationally but couldn’t stop himself.
He felt the punch coming and only partially blocked it.
“What is wrong with you, girl?” he asked, holding her hand away from his face, glad he had taken off his glasses. He touched his nose with his other hand. His mother would kill him if he broke another pair and he’d have to explain why Brielle had punched him.
“Who are you talking to like
