Weekend at Brady's
Author: jared4ever
Title: Weekend at Brady’s
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam/Jess, Brady, OFCs
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: somewhat graphic torture, smut, non-con, mild BDSM, hurt!Sam
Genre: Gen
Spoilers: General for the whole show.
Summary: Pre-series. Maybe a year before the Pilot. Set at Stanford. The demon inside Sam’s friend Brady throws Sam a birthday party, with a demonic twist.
A/N: This might seem a little weird until you see what’s happening. Not beta’d, all mistakes are mine. Kripke owns it all.
Weekend at Brady’s
Jess gasped as Sam pressed her into the floor. He stood behind her, crushing her with his body weight, trapping her limbs, hands roaming her naked body. His strong hands squeezed her calves, her thighs, her ass, all while grinding down onto her, flattening her against the hard surface. He yanked her head back by the hair, assaulting her mouth with his, raking his tongue over her teeth before seizing her tongue.
He paused only to suck in a deep breath, hitching with arousal. “You’re mine now….”
Brady tightened another of the leather straps. Jess was face down on the cold, metal, cross-shaped table, arms outstretched, crucifixion style. Leather straps restrained her completely, pulled tight around her ankles, calves, three places along her thighs, hips, upper and lower arms, and wrists. Brady pulled each belt-like loop so each was as tight as he could make it without cutting off her circulation.
Jess wasn’t going anywhere.
The table was a special design, just for this kind of work. There were large holes, one to give easy access to her pussy, and another so that her ample breasts could hang freely beneath her. Her head hung off the end, but she wasn’t capable of raising it.
The drugs made sure of that.
<<<<<< >>>>>>
Sam moaned, head pressing back against the firm mattress. Jess gave an incredible blowjob. Her blonde curls covered and wrapped around his thighs as her mouth worked his erection mercilessly.
She paused only to breathe, lips never leaving his rigid member for more than a few seconds.
He spewed load after load of cum into her mouth. She swallowed it down, hungrily sucking harder after each passing orgasm.
Sam was strapped down like Jess, but face-up on the table, arms trapped at his sides.
Brady watched, smirking, as the machine did its job. The clear tube coming down from the whirring, wall-mounted device connected to a streamlined latex sleeve, which fit tightly over Sam’s engorged penis. Suction through the hose created a vacuum, which not only stretched Sam’s cock, but made an unbreakable seal. The sleeve wasn’t coming off until the machine stopped.
Along the sleeve a small, vibrating metal bulb moved up and down, relentless stroking the underside of Sam’s erection. The result was an unstoppable masturbation machine that had kept Sam going for almost three hours already, steadily collecting the cum as he ejaculated.
The aphrodisiac cocktail Brady had injected Sam with kept him coming, no matter how worn-out he was. Sam’s testicles were working overtime, as the moans of pleasure and groans of pain slipping from Sam’s lips proved.
The Yellow-Eyed Demon had given Brady specific instructions: acquire a large---very large---amount of Sam’s cum, for reasons Brady was not privy to, and perform tests on Sam’s body. He was to make sure that their Father’s vessel was strong and durable.
The extent and kinds of tests had been left up to Brady. He had an excellent imagination, and had planned a wide variety of experiments.
Jessica wasn’t needed for the tests, but since they’d both come over, Brady figured a little fun on the side wouldn’t hurt anyone. Much.
He had rendered Sam and Jess docile with an exotic psychotropic drug Brady had mixed himself, based on demon blood and several hallucinogens. The effects had been better than expected. The two lovebirds were trapped in hallucinations that kept them completely unaware of what was actually happening to their bodies in the real world.
Sam was hit even harder than Jess, no doubt due to the taint of demonic blood already present in his body.
Brady smiled, adjusting the dials on the machine. Sam moaned and began to come faster.
<<<<<< >>>>>>
“Sam! YES! SAM!” Jess screamed his name, panting in time with his thrusts. Sam had her pressed hard against a wall, pounding her mercilessly. She never stopped being impressed with his size. He filled her completely, each thrust was like being impaled, but she didn’t care.
Sam paused, adjusting his angle, and then resumed fucking her.
“YESSS! SAM!!”
Brady adjusted the power setting again. The sex machine was appropriately named “The Plow,” and judging by the sounds Jess was making as her body helplessly clenched on the table, it was perfectly named.
He had her at 80 strokes per minute, but was itching to take her all the way to 130. Brady glanced at Sam, who was obliviously trapped in his own dream state on the other table.
“You wish you could make her scream like that, Sammy…” Brady sneered. Jess was already screaming with pleasure. Maybe he’d go ahead and kick up the rpms. Why wait?
<<<<<< >>>>>>
The gym was empty, as it always was at three in the morning. Dean got off, Sam believed, on breaking in and working out for free in the middle of the night. They only did it when Dad was out hunting, which lately was all the time. “No reason to waste good money on a membership,” Dean always said.
Dean was in one of his moods. He hadn’t gotten laid since his twentieth birthday, three weeks earlier, so he was doing what he always did in those cases, taking his frustration out on Sam in the gym.
“Dean…come on, man….”
“Work through it, Sammy!” Dean kept the downward pressure on the barbell as Sam struggled to push it up. “You maxed out the leg press, you can do this.”
Sam grimaced, his arms and shoulders shuddering as he forced himself to continue the punishing bench press. His big brother had already turned Sam’s thighs into jelly between the leg press and about a hundred lunges and squats each. Now, Dean seemed determined to destroy Sam’s pectorals.
He finally got the bar all the way up, and Dean helped him sit up, clapping his sore, aching chest in congratulations. Sam’s relief was short-lived, though. “Alright, now the inclined bench!”
Sam groaned.
The four electro-muscle stimulator units Brady had lifted from the rehab center hummed away, sending pulses of electric current into Sam’s helpless body every few seconds.
Two of them were placed near his shoulders, each with four wires connected to Sam’s pecs. The other two flanked his legs, their leads connected to his quadriceps and inner thighs. All were connected to a master control box, which one of Brady’s “associates” in the engineering department had cobbled together for this weekend.
Brady dialed the charge up, clenching Sam’s chest until he dragged a weak, breathless scream out. He smiled, then took the power back down, switching attention to Sam’s thighs. The pectorals were already swollen. Sam would hurt like hell for a few days.
He idly wondered what Sam was seeing in his drug-induced fantasy. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to be too unpleasant, despite the torture Brady was inflicting on his muscles. Occasionally, he heard Sam whisper his brother’s name.
Shrugging off his curiosity, Brady dialed the thigh units to full power.
<<<<<< >>>>>>
Jess had never seen Sam so angry. He held her down, against the stairs, his face pinched with fury.
“You fucked him! I can’t believe it!”
“Sam…please---”
“My own brother! Did you think he wouldn’t tell me?” Sam spat. His eyes raked up and down her nude body. When he lifted his gaze back to her face, she shivered with the coldness in his eyes. “You need to be punished.”
Sam reached up and seized her nipples with his fingers. Slowly, cruelly, he watched her face as he began twisting them. Jess couldn’t move, his body pressed her against the wall, trapping her. The brutal pressure on her nipples increased until she cried out.
“You like being punished, don’t you?” Brady whispered as he tightened the nipple clamps again, dragging a soft cry of pain out of Jessica. Every now and then, he heard her whisper Sam’s name.
Sam lay helpless on the other table. His body was exhausted from the electro-stimulator session, but his dick was still being milked relentlessly by Brady’s machine.
Brady smiled. If only his prisoners knew what was really happening to them. He had to admit, though, listening to the murmured hints of what they were experiencing in their drug-enslaved minds was almost as fun as the torments he was inflicting on them.
<<<<<< >>>>>>
Sam never saw the ball coming. His first sign of trouble was the nauseating pain exploding in his groin.
The other members of his soccer team were gathered around him, offering him moral support, even if all he really wanted was an ice pack.
He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to wear his cup. The soccer ball had been kicked just a few feet from where he’d been running. Sam had had no chance to dodge it as it hurtled straight at his nuts.
Sam groaned, trying to clutch his throbbing sack, but he couldn’t even move his arms. He just laid there, moaning in agony.
Brady glanced up when he heard Sam’s moan again, but then returned to tightening the vice around Sam’s testicles. He had to give it to Sammy, the kid had a high pain threshold. When the demon had forced the real Brady to inflict this pain on himself, the young man had screamed like a banshee.
A high threshold was good. Sam would need all the strength his body could muster to contain Lucifer when the time came. It would do no good if the body gave out under the strain.
Brady patted Sam’s inner thigh. “Just a little longer, buddy. You’re doing fine.”
<<<<<< >>>>>>
The demon posing as Brady’s girlfriend Tiffany came down the steps into the basement, a satisfied smirk on her face. “I just got word, Azazel has all the samples he needs. You can stop the tests.”
Brady frowned, looking up from where he’d been inserting the needle into the flesh of Sam’s muscular thigh. “Already?”
“Afraid so. Wrap it up. The drugs will wear off soon.”
With a sigh, Brady pulled the long needle out roughly. Sam whimpered quietly as it was yanked from his quivering thigh muscle. Brady ignored him, turned off the cum-extracting pump and began unlocking the leather straps.
“How are you planning to explain what’s happened to them when they wake up?” Tiffany asked. Her tone was more curiosity than concern.
Brady pointed to two small syringes lying on a nearby workbench. “Bring that over here. One dose of my little cocktail, and they’ll believe anything I tell them.”
Tiffany handed the drugs over. Brady smiled as he glanced at Sam’s brow, furrowed in pain even while unconscious. Poor Sam, he thought. He’ll never know how much fun we had….
He plunged the syringe into Sam’s arm.
<<<<<< >>>>>>
Brady sensed Sam inching toward consciousness. He’d spent the morning making sure any bruises or needle marks were hidden on Sam and Jess’ skins, and was comfortably sure that he’d gotten them all.
Jessica had already woken up, and even with Brady’s special brew warping her mind, it had been pathetically easy to sell the story of how Sam’s wild birthday party ran into the wee hours of the morning and culminated in the wildest sex of her life. She was all too eager to rationalize away all the aches and pains that still pulsed through her abused body.
Jess had hastily retreated to the shower, leaving Brady lying on the end of the bed, waiting for Sam to rouse. He would be slightly harder to convince, but the drugs in his system would dull the young hunter’s instincts---hopefully just enough for Brady’s story to take hold.
Always start with a healthy---distracting---dose of embarrassment. The demon thought smugly. That always greases the skids.
Sam slowly stirred, eyes fluttering open. He groaned softly, trying to move his stiff, sore body. “Uhh…”
Brady chose that moment to begin. He sat up and yanked the sheet off the bed. Sam flinched as his bare body was exposed to the cool air. “W-What the---? Brady?”
“Mornin’ buddy!”
Sam scrambled to cup his hands over his genitals. “Dude! Not cool!”
Brady snorted. “Sam, remember when I got wasted and went streaking across campus? You wrestled me to the ground while I was naked. And I put up a fight. Believe me, there are no secrets between us now, man.”
To the demon’s surprise, after a moment of uncertainty, Sam actually seemed to accept that reasoning. He still tried to hide his privates, though, as he looked around the room. “Are we---? This is your bedroom.”
“Yup.”
“Did Jess and I…?”
“Yup.”
“In your bed.”
“Uh-huh.”
Sam blinked a few times, then shook his head. “Ah, man. I’m sorry. I must have been trashed. I don’t even remember how we---”
He broke off when he finally took note of Brady’s own lack of clothing. “Uh…Brady? Why are you…?”
“You don’t remember?”
Sam shook his head mutely, his expression bordering on horror. Brady grinned broadly. “Man…I didn’t even know Jess was into threesomes. But, she insisted and you went along with it.”
“You mean…we---?”
Brady nodded, watching as the wheels struggled to turn in Sam’s brain. The drugs he’d injected made the kid very susceptible to suggestion. Still, Sam was strong-willed, and Brady could see him fighting the influence and trying to doubt the story. In the end, though, the drugs won out, as expected.
“Man,” Sam rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair. “I swear I don’t remember a thing from last night.”
“The evils of alcohol consumption, young man,” Brady chided. Sam chuckled.
“Yeah, I guess. Still, I can’t believe we would…do that.”
Oh Sammy, such a prude. “Jessica has a hell of a kinky streak, Sam.”
Sam’s eyes slid to the bathroom door, where Jess could be heard humming over the shower. He nodded absently, before shaking his head and pushing himself up on his elbows. He looked around the room and the disheveled bed.
“Well…I guess I should thank you for my birthday party.”
Brady smiled, struggling to hide his smirk, and reached out to squeeze Sam’s thigh. “You deserved every minute of it, Sam.”
END
Title: Weekend at Brady’s
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam/Jess, Brady, OFCs
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: somewhat graphic torture, smut, non-con, mild BDSM, hurt!Sam
Genre: Gen
Spoilers: General for the whole show.
Summary: Pre-series. Maybe a year before the Pilot. Set at Stanford. The demon inside Sam’s friend Brady throws Sam a birthday party, with a demonic twist.
A/N: This might seem a little weird until you see what’s happening. Not beta’d, all mistakes are mine. Kripke owns it all.
Weekend at Brady’s
Jess gasped as Sam pressed her into the floor. He stood behind her, crushing her with his body weight, trapping her limbs, hands roaming her naked body. His strong hands squeezed her calves, her thighs, her ass, all while grinding down onto her, flattening her against the hard surface. He yanked her head back by the hair, assaulting her mouth with his, raking his tongue over her teeth before seizing her tongue.
He paused only to suck in a deep breath, hitching with arousal. “You’re mine now….”
Brady tightened another of the leather straps. Jess was face down on the cold, metal, cross-shaped table, arms outstretched, crucifixion style. Leather straps restrained her completely, pulled tight around her ankles, calves, three places along her thighs, hips, upper and lower arms, and wrists. Brady pulled each belt-like loop so each was as tight as he could make it without cutting off her circulation.
Jess wasn’t going anywhere.
The table was a special design, just for this kind of work. There were large holes, one to give easy access to her pussy, and another so that her ample breasts could hang freely beneath her. Her head hung off the end, but she wasn’t capable of raising it.
The drugs made sure of that.
<<<<<< >>>>>>
Sam moaned, head pressing back against the firm mattress. Jess gave an incredible blowjob. Her blonde curls covered and wrapped around his thighs as her mouth worked his erection mercilessly.
She paused only to breathe, lips never leaving his rigid member for more than a few seconds.
He spewed load after load of cum into her mouth. She swallowed it down, hungrily sucking harder after each passing orgasm.
Sam was strapped down like Jess, but face-up on the table, arms trapped at his sides.
Brady watched, smirking, as the machine did its job. The clear tube coming down from the whirring, wall-mounted device connected to a streamlined latex sleeve, which fit tightly over Sam’s engorged penis. Suction through the hose created a vacuum, which not only stretched Sam’s cock, but made an unbreakable seal. The sleeve wasn’t coming off until the machine stopped.
Along the sleeve a small, vibrating metal bulb moved up and down, relentless stroking the underside of Sam’s erection. The result was an unstoppable masturbation machine that had kept Sam going for almost three hours already, steadily collecting the cum as he ejaculated.
The aphrodisiac cocktail Brady had injected Sam with kept him coming, no matter how worn-out he was. Sam’s testicles were working overtime, as the moans of pleasure and groans of pain slipping from Sam’s lips proved.
The Yellow-Eyed Demon had given Brady specific instructions: acquire a large---very large---amount of Sam’s cum, for reasons Brady was not privy to, and perform tests on Sam’s body. He was to make sure that their Father’s vessel was strong and durable.
The extent and kinds of tests had been left up to Brady. He had an excellent imagination, and had planned a wide variety of experiments.
Jessica wasn’t needed for the tests, but since they’d both come over, Brady figured a little fun on the side wouldn’t hurt anyone. Much.
He had rendered Sam and Jess docile with an exotic psychotropic drug Brady had mixed himself, based on demon blood and several hallucinogens. The effects had been better than expected. The two lovebirds were trapped in hallucinations that kept them completely unaware of what was actually happening to their bodies in the real world.
Sam was hit even harder than Jess, no doubt due to the taint of demonic blood already present in his body.
Brady smiled, adjusting the dials on the machine. Sam moaned and began to come faster.
<<<<<< >>>>>>
“Sam! YES! SAM!” Jess screamed his name, panting in time with his thrusts. Sam had her pressed hard against a wall, pounding her mercilessly. She never stopped being impressed with his size. He filled her completely, each thrust was like being impaled, but she didn’t care.
Sam paused, adjusting his angle, and then resumed fucking her.
“YESSS! SAM!!”
Brady adjusted the power setting again. The sex machine was appropriately named “The Plow,” and judging by the sounds Jess was making as her body helplessly clenched on the table, it was perfectly named.
He had her at 80 strokes per minute, but was itching to take her all the way to 130. Brady glanced at Sam, who was obliviously trapped in his own dream state on the other table.
“You wish you could make her scream like that, Sammy…” Brady sneered. Jess was already screaming with pleasure. Maybe he’d go ahead and kick up the rpms. Why wait?
<<<<<< >>>>>>
The gym was empty, as it always was at three in the morning. Dean got off, Sam believed, on breaking in and working out for free in the middle of the night. They only did it when Dad was out hunting, which lately was all the time. “No reason to waste good money on a membership,” Dean always said.
Dean was in one of his moods. He hadn’t gotten laid since his twentieth birthday, three weeks earlier, so he was doing what he always did in those cases, taking his frustration out on Sam in the gym.
“Dean…come on, man….”
“Work through it, Sammy!” Dean kept the downward pressure on the barbell as Sam struggled to push it up. “You maxed out the leg press, you can do this.”
Sam grimaced, his arms and shoulders shuddering as he forced himself to continue the punishing bench press. His big brother had already turned Sam’s thighs into jelly between the leg press and about a hundred lunges and squats each. Now, Dean seemed determined to destroy Sam’s pectorals.
He finally got the bar all the way up, and Dean helped him sit up, clapping his sore, aching chest in congratulations. Sam’s relief was short-lived, though. “Alright, now the inclined bench!”
Sam groaned.
The four electro-muscle stimulator units Brady had lifted from the rehab center hummed away, sending pulses of electric current into Sam’s helpless body every few seconds.
Two of them were placed near his shoulders, each with four wires connected to Sam’s pecs. The other two flanked his legs, their leads connected to his quadriceps and inner thighs. All were connected to a master control box, which one of Brady’s “associates” in the engineering department had cobbled together for this weekend.
Brady dialed the charge up, clenching Sam’s chest until he dragged a weak, breathless scream out. He smiled, then took the power back down, switching attention to Sam’s thighs. The pectorals were already swollen. Sam would hurt like hell for a few days.
He idly wondered what Sam was seeing in his drug-induced fantasy. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to be too unpleasant, despite the torture Brady was inflicting on his muscles. Occasionally, he heard Sam whisper his brother’s name.
Shrugging off his curiosity, Brady dialed the thigh units to full power.
<<<<<< >>>>>>
Jess had never seen Sam so angry. He held her down, against the stairs, his face pinched with fury.
“You fucked him! I can’t believe it!”
“Sam…please---”
“My own brother! Did you think he wouldn’t tell me?” Sam spat. His eyes raked up and down her nude body. When he lifted his gaze back to her face, she shivered with the coldness in his eyes. “You need to be punished.”
Sam reached up and seized her nipples with his fingers. Slowly, cruelly, he watched her face as he began twisting them. Jess couldn’t move, his body pressed her against the wall, trapping her. The brutal pressure on her nipples increased until she cried out.
“You like being punished, don’t you?” Brady whispered as he tightened the nipple clamps again, dragging a soft cry of pain out of Jessica. Every now and then, he heard her whisper Sam’s name.
Sam lay helpless on the other table. His body was exhausted from the electro-stimulator session, but his dick was still being milked relentlessly by Brady’s machine.
Brady smiled. If only his prisoners knew what was really happening to them. He had to admit, though, listening to the murmured hints of what they were experiencing in their drug-enslaved minds was almost as fun as the torments he was inflicting on them.
<<<<<< >>>>>>
Sam never saw the ball coming. His first sign of trouble was the nauseating pain exploding in his groin.
The other members of his soccer team were gathered around him, offering him moral support, even if all he really wanted was an ice pack.
He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to wear his cup. The soccer ball had been kicked just a few feet from where he’d been running. Sam had had no chance to dodge it as it hurtled straight at his nuts.
Sam groaned, trying to clutch his throbbing sack, but he couldn’t even move his arms. He just laid there, moaning in agony.
Brady glanced up when he heard Sam’s moan again, but then returned to tightening the vice around Sam’s testicles. He had to give it to Sammy, the kid had a high pain threshold. When the demon had forced the real Brady to inflict this pain on himself, the young man had screamed like a banshee.
A high threshold was good. Sam would need all the strength his body could muster to contain Lucifer when the time came. It would do no good if the body gave out under the strain.
Brady patted Sam’s inner thigh. “Just a little longer, buddy. You’re doing fine.”
<<<<<< >>>>>>
The demon posing as Brady’s girlfriend Tiffany came down the steps into the basement, a satisfied smirk on her face. “I just got word, Azazel has all the samples he needs. You can stop the tests.”
Brady frowned, looking up from where he’d been inserting the needle into the flesh of Sam’s muscular thigh. “Already?”
“Afraid so. Wrap it up. The drugs will wear off soon.”
With a sigh, Brady pulled the long needle out roughly. Sam whimpered quietly as it was yanked from his quivering thigh muscle. Brady ignored him, turned off the cum-extracting pump and began unlocking the leather straps.
“How are you planning to explain what’s happened to them when they wake up?” Tiffany asked. Her tone was more curiosity than concern.
Brady pointed to two small syringes lying on a nearby workbench. “Bring that over here. One dose of my little cocktail, and they’ll believe anything I tell them.”
Tiffany handed the drugs over. Brady smiled as he glanced at Sam’s brow, furrowed in pain even while unconscious. Poor Sam, he thought. He’ll never know how much fun we had….
He plunged the syringe into Sam’s arm.
<<<<<< >>>>>>
Brady sensed Sam inching toward consciousness. He’d spent the morning making sure any bruises or needle marks were hidden on Sam and Jess’ skins, and was comfortably sure that he’d gotten them all.
Jessica had already woken up, and even with Brady’s special brew warping her mind, it had been pathetically easy to sell the story of how Sam’s wild birthday party ran into the wee hours of the morning and culminated in the wildest sex of her life. She was all too eager to rationalize away all the aches and pains that still pulsed through her abused body.
Jess had hastily retreated to the shower, leaving Brady lying on the end of the bed, waiting for Sam to rouse. He would be slightly harder to convince, but the drugs in his system would dull the young hunter’s instincts---hopefully just enough for Brady’s story to take hold.
Always start with a healthy---distracting---dose of embarrassment. The demon thought smugly. That always greases the skids.
Sam slowly stirred, eyes fluttering open. He groaned softly, trying to move his stiff, sore body. “Uhh…”
Brady chose that moment to begin. He sat up and yanked the sheet off the bed. Sam flinched as his bare body was exposed to the cool air. “W-What the---? Brady?”
“Mornin’ buddy!”
Sam scrambled to cup his hands over his genitals. “Dude! Not cool!”
Brady snorted. “Sam, remember when I got wasted and went streaking across campus? You wrestled me to the ground while I was naked. And I put up a fight. Believe me, there are no secrets between us now, man.”
To the demon’s surprise, after a moment of uncertainty, Sam actually seemed to accept that reasoning. He still tried to hide his privates, though, as he looked around the room. “Are we---? This is your bedroom.”
“Yup.”
“Did Jess and I…?”
“Yup.”
“In your bed.”
“Uh-huh.”
Sam blinked a few times, then shook his head. “Ah, man. I’m sorry. I must have been trashed. I don’t even remember how we---”
He broke off when he finally took note of Brady’s own lack of clothing. “Uh…Brady? Why are you…?”
“You don’t remember?”
Sam shook his head mutely, his expression bordering on horror. Brady grinned broadly. “Man…I didn’t even know Jess was into threesomes. But, she insisted and you went along with it.”
“You mean…we---?”
Brady nodded, watching as the wheels struggled to turn in Sam’s brain. The drugs he’d injected made the kid very susceptible to suggestion. Still, Sam was strong-willed, and Brady could see him fighting the influence and trying to doubt the story. In the end, though, the drugs won out, as expected.
“Man,” Sam rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair. “I swear I don’t remember a thing from last night.”
“The evils of alcohol consumption, young man,” Brady chided. Sam chuckled.
“Yeah, I guess. Still, I can’t believe we would…do that.”
Oh Sammy, such a prude. “Jessica has a hell of a kinky streak, Sam.”
Sam’s eyes slid to the bathroom door, where Jess could be heard humming over the shower. He nodded absently, before shaking his head and pushing himself up on his elbows. He looked around the room and the disheveled bed.
“Well…I guess I should thank you for my birthday party.”
Brady smiled, struggling to hide his smirk, and reached out to squeeze Sam’s thigh. “You deserved every minute of it, Sam.”
END