31. The Only Two People in the Room
THE ONLY TWO PEOPLE IN THE ROOM
CHELSEA
“Pretty sure I’ve already seen it,” I tease as he disarms the alarm and I close the garage door behind us.
Brett grins and grabs my hand, his chuckle low and sexy. “See? I told you dick jokes are funny.”
He tugs me past his fancy kitchen to a short, unexpected hallway at the far end of the massive living room. Eerie blue light flickers against the edge of the wall as Brett pushes open a sliding glass door and we step into a room so beautiful I stop short.
Oh, wow.
The lights in the basin of the pool are on, casting dancing blue reflections on three of the walls. They aren’t nearly as ominous now that I know their source. The fourth wall is made entirely of glass, which I’m sure boasts an amazing view in the daylight.
The room has high ceilings with immense skylights, and the deck is a masterpiece of gray tiles laid in a chevron pattern around the gorgeous blue glow of the water.
Two lounge chairs sit facing the pool, each with its own little table.
I take a deep breath and let the humid air and the familiar scent of chlorine wash over me as I take it in.
“Do you like it?” Brett asks, stepping close behind me and wrapping an arm around my middle. The proximity of him, the realization that we’re finally alone, is working its predictable magic on my body. As always, my skin prickles to life, begging for his touch.
“For the record, it’s pretty much the whole reason I bought the house,” he confesses, dropping a kiss on my temple, “so you should probably say yes.”
I laugh as I turn to face him, and it banishes any lingering shadows plaguing me. “It’s incredible,” I assure him. You’re incredible, I want to say, and I reach up and wind my arms around his neck.
Sex. This is about sex, I remind myself. About escaping my everyday life for however long this exciting foray into bad-girldom lasts. But sometimes it doesn’t feel that way…
He groans and pulls me close. “I’ve been dying to touch you since we landed.”
His kiss is soft, but insistent. It’s not the kiss I was expecting, but there’s something intriguing, exciting, about the restrained seduction he’s waging against my mouth, teasing me, coaxing me into opening for him even as his hands run over my body, taking more liberties than the chasteness of our kiss would suggest he’s allowed.
It’s... exciting, the combination of being seduced and being manhandled, and I press closer, reveling in the strength of his body, the hardness of him.
“Hey, Brett?”
“Hmmm?” He drags his mouth across my cheek to my jaw.
“We seem to be the only two people in the room.”
His breath catches in his throat at the reference to his words in the stairwell the other day. But even as his body tightens at the promise of head, I can see him searching my face, checking for motive.
It’s so damn sexy that he’s concerned about me, even with a blowjob hanging in the balance, that my confidence rises.
“I want to do it right this time.”
Brett gives a rough laugh as I push him back against the wall.
“Blowjobs are like pizza. You can’t fuck’em up.”
“A low bar. I’ll remember that when I’m down there.”
“Hey, I’m not saying you can’t shoot for the filet mignon of blowjobs. Feel free to prove me wrong.”
How can I be laughing and so turned on at the same time?
“This was supposed to be a sexy moment. And now you’ve ruined it,” I chide, cheeks sore from smiling.
He reaches down and grabs the hem of my T-shirt, and I raise my arms obligingly as he tugs it off.
My breath speeds up as he balls the white cotton between his big hands, his eyes roving over my body. “There. I fixed it again.”
“Oh?”
“Well, I think you look pretty sexy.”
“Maybe you should take yours off, too. Just so I’m properly motivated.”
He reaches over his head, arm flexing as he fists the cotton between his shoulder blades and yanks. God, I could watch him pull his T-shirt off that way all day and never tire of it.
“You’re right. That’s definitely sexier.”
His shirt joins mine on the floor.
“I wonder what would happen if I undid your jeans?”
Brett licks his lips. “Only one way to find out, I guess.”
“I’ll do it. For science.”
“Is this science?”
“Biology. Obviously.”
I undo the button of his jeans as I kiss my way down his sternum, down his abs. Brett tips his head back against the wall, and when I get to my knees, his hips jerk as I pull down his zipper. “Chemistry, too,” I add, tugging the denim down his thighs.
He sucks in a breath. “I should have paid more attention in school.”
I look up at him, his shoulders braced against the wall. I inhale the scent of Brett and chlorine and humid air, and I want this to be everything I’ve built up in my mind.
Nerves trickle through my stomach. Dustin had never been that into blowjobs, and suddenly I worry that might have been my fault.
“You’ll tell me what you like, right?”
“I like everything you do to me. I like just seeing you down there so much that I might come before you touch me.”
Brett has a way of saying the most perfect things. I’m pretty sure it’s my panties, not my heart, that should be melting right before I deliver on the dirty lip service I’ve been envisioning, but here we are.
I wrap my hand around the base of his shaft and lick up the length of him. He groans as I wrap my lips around the head of his cock.
“Jesus, that’s so good.” He shoves his fingers in my hair, but unlike last time, this time the tug feels organic, and real, and oh so sexy.
His hips start to rock a little under the suction of my mouth, not taking over, but as if he can’t help it, and I love that I’m the one making him lose control.
When I glance up, he’s looking down at me so reverently, like I’m the whole world to him right now, on my knees, giving him pleasure.
I’m wet and aching, just from touching him like this, and I wriggle my hips, a little shimmy, as I squeeze my thighs together, searching for the pressure I need, something to take the edge off the ache building between my legs.
I slide my hand off his thigh. Maybe if I just…
Brett’s fist tightens in my hair, and the sharp sting against my scalp startles me into looking up at him again.
“Shit. Sorry. Fuck, Chelsea, if you touch yourself right now, I’m gonna lose it.” He lets go of my hair, his chest heaving. “You have to stop or I won’t be able to.”
I pull back. “You don’t have to. You can…” I’m trying to be dirty, but I can’t quite bring myself to say, “come in my mouth,” but I think the words, and try to convince myself that it’s a start, anyway. “I want you to.”
His body goes rigid, and his breath gets raspier, so I figure he understands well enough. But he shakes his head and is already reaching for me, pulling me to my feet.
“Maybe next time. Right now, I need to be deep inside you, so get naked. Where the hell are my pants?”
Then he’s on them, donning a condom as I slide my panties off.
“Can we…” I take a deep breath. “Can you take me against the wall? Ever since that first night when you picked me up in the elevator like it was nothing, I’ve been fantasizing about—oh!”
“Yeah.” He already has an arm around me, lifting me up his body so I can wrap my legs around his waist. “I can do that.”
Yeah he can. Why is that so damn hot?
He reaches down with his free hand, positioning himself so he can slide all the way in, even as he presses me back against the tiles.
Oh, man.
He groans at the delicious friction. “Your pussy’s so wet for me.”
I’m lost in him—his brute strength, the plunge of his cock, his lips on my neck. An erotic trifecta of sensations that has me mindless with need. I tighten my legs around him, grinding against him, desperate for pressure.
“Brett, I need…”
I shove a hand between us.
“Yes, baby. Touch yourself for me. I want to feel you come on my cock.”
Dirty words. All for me. That, combined with the press of my fingers against my clit has me coming so hard, I would have fallen if Brett wasn’t holding me up.
He swears as he comes a few strokes later, and my stomach muscles flutter in time with the jerk of his hips.
He presses his forehead to mine, standing there as the two of us catch our collective breath, letting our heart rates mellow, his fingers flexing against the backs of my thighs.
“Holy shit.”
A laugh bubbles up inside me. “What you said.”
“I’m not sure I have full use of my legs right now. I need to sit.” Instead of letting me down, like I expect, he tightens his arms around me and carries me over to the closest pool lounger, taking a seat with me still wrapped around him.
I sigh contentedly, tucking my head against his shoulder as he stretches out beneath me. “Let’s just stay here forever,” I suggest.
Brett runs his fingers up and down my spine. “If I didn’t have a road trip starting on Monday, I would lock the door right now.”
“I suppose we’ll probably need to eat at some point, too,” I concede. “Stupid real life, always getting in the way of hot sex and pool lounging.”
“Well, our flight back to Missoula doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning. There’s still time to slowly reintegrate ourselves into life outside this room so the culture shock isn’t so jarring.”
I smile against his skin. “What did you have in mind?”
“We could start with hot sex in the shower, to kind of bridge the pool-room-to-dry-land gap, and then follow that up with some hot sex in my king size bed. And just to make the transition as easy as possible, we can try some hot morning sex before we get up. Ease into our first day back in the real world.”
I pretend to mull it over. “Seems like an okay plan, but I have one question.”
“Shoot.”
“This shower you speak of? How nice are we talking?”
“Ceiling-mount rain head fixture, staggered-height side sprayers, and a hand-held shower head. I’m talking the Lamborghini of showers.”
“Ugh. Real life is going to be hard,” I push myself up off his chest. “But I guess we should probably give it a try. No sense in putting off the inevitable.”
Brett smiles at me and pulls me down for another kiss. “That’s my brave girl.”