22. Brooke
22
brOOKE
“W ait.” I hold up a hand by the doors and slip off my shoes.
“You’re not walking like that out to the car.”
“Watch me.”
Before I can protest, Miles scoops me up in his arms. My fingers grip the back of his neck, his hair soft against my fingers.
The automatic doors slide wide as he carries me to the parking lot and doesn’t set me down until we’re at the Range Rover.
He helps me inside and moments later, we’re backing out of the spot.
“Are you drunk?” I ask.
“You think I’d drink alcohol and drive you around?” He shakes his head, perplexed.
“Not really. But I’m trying to think of why else you’d say what you said back there.”
“Because I mean it. Because it’s true.”
My heart kicks.
Miles cares enough to stand up for us against the team.
Sure, Jay’s way out of line, but he’s their leader and he tried to pull rank.
My roommate, the easygoing joker with the fast smile and the wicked grin, told him where to put it.
“You’re not putting me down?” I ask when we get back to the condo and Miles carries me out of the car and steps into the elevator.
“Nope.”
I press the button.
The elevator dings and he carries me down the hall. “Gonna need you to swipe us in.”
I reach into my bag for the key. The door swings open, and he carries me inside. Waffles yips a couple of times from the corner, then goes back to sleep.
Miles carries me into his room. He doesn’t set me down until I’m over the bed.
“That was impressive.”
He pushes a hand through his hair. “I work out.”
I burst out laughing, and he grins.
But there’s been a need bubbling beneath the surface.
We’ve always had chemistry, but this feels like something else. When things aren’t right in the world, he has this magical way of making them right with him .
I want his skin on mine, each piece of us lined up. I want to lay my heart on his and say, “See? They sound the same.”
I press up on my knees, and he bends down to meet me. When I grab his face and pull him to me for a soft kiss, he’s surprised for half a second at most. His athlete instincts kick in and he kisses me back.
Miles’s mouth is full of need, but it’s the generosity that gets to me.
His hands skim up my thighs with a reverence that steals my breath. The room is impossibly dark, at least until he lights a candle on the nightstand that casts a warm glow over everything.
“We’ve got time,” he murmurs.
And that sets the pace.
Each touch turns slow and languid and sensual.
Miles might not think of himself as a romantic guy, but he is. He notices me, his expression saying he appreciates every damn move I make whether it’s right or wrong.
He takes off my dress. The buttons are tiny, but he won’t let me help. The stubborn movements turn me on even more, my hands skimming along his biceps as he works.
“Not helping,” he murmurs against my neck.
“Sorry,” I lie, going to work on the buttons on his shirt.
Minutes later, my dress is tugged gently over my head and dropped on the floor. His suit jacket and shirt too.
It’s thousands of dollars of clothes.
Neither of us cares.
His lips trace down my throat to my breast and find my nipple, and he tugs with his teeth. I inhale sharply. My fingers thread in his hair as he sucks me.
The candle on the nightstand flickers, making everything look like a dream. The way his arms band around my hips. The softness of his hair as he angles his head, moving to the other side.
It’s like he knows me.
Maybe he does.
I reach for his pants, but he brushes away my hands. His lips skim down the curve of my stomach as he traces a hand up the back of my thigh. I sway toward him.
“I’ve always liked road trips,” he murmurs. “Get to see a new city. Catch up with friends.”
He strips off my tights and panties, then tugs one of my knees wider.
I grab his shoulder for balance. His lips brush the inside of my thigh, whisper soft.
“Hell, I even sleep great in hotel rooms.”
He strokes lightly between my thighs. It’s the barest stroke, but my breathing hitches.
“But lately, I can’t sleep worth shit. Every second I’m wishing I was right here…”
Miles’s fingers stroke the length of my pussy, dipping in a few inches.
“…with you…”
He grabs my ass and pulls me toward his face.
“Doing this.”
The sensations wash over me in a wave of pleasure.
His tongue stroking my clit.
His fingers pressing inside me.
He goes to work as if it’s his greatest joy and every sound I make, every shiver of my body, is the only response he needs.
The temptation is too strong, the desire too close. I’m riding his fingers and grinding against his face. His fingers dig into my ass.
“Say my name.” He groans it. “Say my name when you come on my face, Princess.”
When my body goes tight, that sweet pleasure bordering on pain then exploding into weightlessness, there’s nothing on the tip of my tongue except his name.
No words, no thoughts, no desires that aren’t him.
My body trembles, and he fucks me through it until I’m gasping and begging him to stop. Then he lays me back, lying on one side to look down at me. He traces my shoulder with a finger. The candlelight warms us both.
“That was fucking spectacular.”
“Isn’t that my line?” I tease.
“I was talking about you.” His lips brush mine. “I’m glad you used the jacuzzi when I was on the road.”
“I might need to again.”
“If you’re ready for round two?—”
“I meant for my sore feet.” I laugh.
His hands slide down to my feet and he caresses them, pressing his thumb into my arch. My head twists, my cheek rubbing the pillow. I could die happy.
“Damn it, is there anything you’re not good at?” I manage.
“Staying away from you.” His smile is oddly shy.
I twist out of his grip, rearing up onto my knees so we’re chest to chest. I grab his face with both hands. “Don’t ever.”
The words takes everything inside me, because I’m admitting I want him, I need him.
This time, his lips are hungry. He kisses me as though he’s desperate, and I kiss him back as if he’s the answer to a question I’ve been too afraid to ask.
He rises and strips off his pants and shorts before returning to me. His length is impossibly thick and hard. I circle him with my fingers anyway.
I lower my lips to him, kissing his tip until he growls. “Come on now. I’m too amped for that.”
I take him in, swirling my tongue around him. His string of curses makes me grin.
“Take it like a man, Garrett.” I look up at him from under my eyelashes.
He groans, rocking against my lips, sliding over my tongue.
“Goddamn, Brooke. Your mouth is unreal.”
I want to show him how good he makes me feel. How powerful in a world that tried to take it away.
But he’s determined when he shifts me up the bed on my back. Lifts my knee, pulls it around his hip, and positions himself at my entrance. “Look at me.”
I couldn’t look away.
As he sinks in, my mouth falls open at the feel of him.
It’s a leap of faith. The stretch as he fills me.
“That’s it. Wanna touch every inch of you.”
My eyes drift closed as he moves forward until he’s all the way in.
I get a moment to experience the sensation. Until he pulls back, then he drives back in. The rhythm is too slow to be a race, and he’s too deep to be comfortable.
“You’re mine.”
He mumbles it so low, I’m not sure I’ve heard it.
But pleasure takes over and I’m clinging to him. My climax comes first. Then he’s clenched tight everywhere, his jaw, his shoulders.
Pleasure rips through him, and I love knowing I caused it. But I can’t focus on it because we’re both falling, tumbling through the atmosphere.
I love being helpless with him.
Minutes later, I’m catching my breath when he reaches over to put out the candle.
“Happy New Year, Princess,” he murmurs in my ear.
It’s going to be.
His arms wrap around me, tugging my back to his front.
His heart beats through my back. The rhythm matches mine.