do that to him—no matter how selfish I want to be.
Wrapping his big, strong arms around me, my brother pulls me in for a hug. “I’ll be back before you know it. And I’ll send money when I can so you can set yourself up somewhere. I promise. All this is as good for you as it is for me. Once you have your own place, I’ll come visit on my leave dates. We’ll have so much fun, you and I.” He pulls away before kissing me on the cheek. I grip his jacket, unable to let him go. I know I have to, but the selfish part of me is currently winning out.
“Right, everyone on the coach now!” a man in camouflage shouts. I look around, finding lots of people hugging, kissing, saying their goodbyes. I drown out the sniffles of the girlfriends. If I don’t, it won’t be long before I’m sobbing alongside them.
Just a few more minutes and he will be gone.
Just a few more minutes before I can cry.
“Take care of yourself, Son,” my dad says from behind me.
My brother smiles as he shakes his hand. “I will, Dad. Thanks.”
We both chance a look at my mother who, without my dad holding her, is swaying from the booze she’s been drinking since eight this morning. It’s currently ten, and apart from that, her only son is about to leave and join the army. You’d think she’d try and lay off the alcohol for him this one time. But no. Alcohol makes people selfish, and she’s as selfish as they come.
With not so much as an acknowledgement from her, my brother sucks in a breath. “Well, I guess I better go.” He then looks directly at me. “I’ll message you once I’m there.”
“You promise?” I ask, trying to smile.
“Pinky promise,” he says, holding his little finger up. “I’ll either call or message every day.”
I attempt to smile at him, but the more time runs out before he has to leave, the more my heart hurts. He hugs me one last time, says a cursory goodbye to our parents, and then all I can do is watch. I watch as he walks towards the coach and queues up before taking his first step. I watch as he moves along the aisle until he finds a seat. I watch as he blows me a kiss through the window, offering that bright smile that always manages to lift my spirits. I watch as the coach leaves, and the last thing I see is his hand waving.
Then I cry. I cry all the way home with my mum complaining about the noise the whole journey. I cry when I’m on my bed with only my pillow to comfort me. I cry all the days and weeks that follow without him. I cry when years go by, and my brother does two tours of Afghanistan.
The second of which, I lose him forever.
CHAPTER 1
8 Years later
I close my eyes when I feel his tongue flick across my nipple, a slight moan leaving my lips. I feel his heavy breath above me, his slow, torturous hand caressing my other breast as it cascades down to my soaking pussy.
“Fuck, Bri, you’re always so wet for me.”
He inserts his finger into my wetness, causing my back to arch slightly. I’m so turned on. Always so turned on for this man.
Ever so slowly, his finger slides out of me, but only so he can start his leisurely strokes around my clit.
“Oh, God!” I cry out, loving the sensations flooding my body. His tongue darts out at my nipple again, flicking once, twice, three times before his lips wrap around my little nub and he starts sucking.
“Chris!” I shout, unable to hide my emotions from him. I’ve never, in this last year of living with him, been able to hide just how much pleasure he gives me.
“I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to come around my cock. Got it?” he growls, plunging his finger back inside my pussy. I cry out, my breaths uneven and shallow. “Bri, I can’t hear your answer.”
Licking my lips, I nod my head, my hands fisting the dark blonde wavy locks I love to run my hands through.
“Say it, Bri. Say you want my cock inside you. Tell me you’re going to love it so much that it’ll make you come. Tell me!”
“Yes!” I scream, needing my release. Over the past twelve months, he’s perfected the art of knowing exactly what