Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Like in the coffee shop, I couldn’t fight the kiss. I melted into it and his warmth.
“First thing you do when you see me is kiss me,” he grumbled against my mouth.
“No, it’s not,” I snapped. “And we’re going to be talking about all this kissing without permission at your place. My mom is watching and getting the wrong idea.” I didn’t move. Only because it was cold and he was warm.
Brody’s eyes flickered in the direction of the house then back to me. “Feels like I had your permission,” he countered, his attention back on me. “And if your mother saw me kissin’ you, she got the right idea.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but it was cold, and my mother would only be a spectator for so long before she inserted herself into the story.
“Truck. Your place. Now. No more talking.”
Brody’s gaze heated, then his hands went downward. To my ass. He squeezed. “Like it when you order me around. Gonna like it better when we’re naked.”
My toes curled in my boots. “We’re not going to be naked.” I rolled my eyes. “We’re merely going to your place to straighten things out.” I stepped out of his embrace, the cold biting me as I did. “Now let’s go. No more kissing. No more talking.”
Brody smirked and stepped back. “Lead the way.”
I scowled at him and stomped to his truck, promising myself my resolve would stay strong.
We didn’t make it to the bedroom.
Not the first time.
We barely made it through the front door.
We’d been on each other, tearing at each other’s clothes like animals. They were littered behind us, left in our wake, having taken off only what we absolutely needed to in order to get what we needed: Brody’s cock inside me.
My jeans were twisted at my ankles as my palms pressed against his rug, me on my hands and knees, Brody pounding into me from behind. He held a fistful of my hair, yanking me backward with a blissful amount of pain to offset the overwhelming pleasure of him inside of me.
We both climaxed at the same time, him exploding into the condom inside me.
I kind of blacked out after that.
There was peeling off each other’s clothes. Then there was Brody’s frown. “You’ve been away for too long,” he decided. “You aren’t dressed for the weather. You are getting cold.” His fingertip brushed over my stiff nipple.
I shivered delightfully.
“We gotta warm you up,” he playfully snarled, lifting me.
That’s how we had sex in the shower.
I got plenty warm.
Not that I was cold in the first place.
“Will you tell me about what happened to you after high school?” I asked Brody, lying on top of him.
We’d made it to bed, both of us with hair still damp from the shower. I smelled of Brody’s body wash. I liked that a lot. He’d left long enough to make us both sandwiches and bring in wine.
He’d informed me he planned some kind of fancy dinner, but that would require both of us leaving the bed for an extended period of time.
“And, baby, I don’t plan on you leaving my bed until you pass out with my cock still inside you,” he’d informed me roughly.
I hadn’t argued with that.
So sandwiches it was. They were delicious. The man could cook, even if it was a humble sandwich on crusty French bread with shaved turkey, mayo and cheese.
Brody leaned to the side table in order to stow his and my wine glasses before settling me back to be laying on his chest. He slowly trailed his fingers up and down my spine. “Why do you want to know that?”
“Because I want to know you,” I said. “The you who isn’t the captain of the football team, the bully. Because I don’t think that was ever you.”
I didn’t know how I’d gone from being sure I still hated Brody to doing a complete one-eighty. Maybe it was orgasm number five. Maybe it was him worrying about me being cold. Maybe it was back in the bar when he’d refused me because he didn’t want me doing something I’d regret. Maybe it was him saving my life. Or naming his dog after the nerdy girl in a cartoon.
His eyes flickered with emotion, then his gaze became so tender, so reverent I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut.
No one had ever looked at me like that before.
As if he couldn’t help himself, Brody leaned in to kiss me delicately on the lips.
“I wasn’t good enough for a football scholarship to the Ivy League, much to my father’s disgust,” Brody answered after lingering at my lips for a long time.
My hands fisted at the mention of his father.
Brody noted that, lifting them to lay his lips on them.
“Love to see that fire, baby,” he murmured. “But don’t waste it on him.”