Chapter 33
POPPY
Ican’t stop looking at Brookes. I mean, he’s hot and sexy and all the things, but right now, sitting across the aisle from me in this private jet, looking down at his phone, dressed in a plain white t-shirt and a backward ball cap, the setting sun shining in through the window casting an almost ethereal glow all around him, there’s just something about him.
I, on the other hand, dressed in my matching compression t-shirt and leggings and a pair of compression socks pulled up to my knees with yellow rubber ducks printed all over them… I am a not-so-hot hot mess.
Texas turned out better than expected. Not only did Brookes shock the golfing world by scoring two hole in ones and surging ahead in the final round to claim the Frisco Classic cup, but the last couple of days between us have been strangely perfect.
And I don’t know if it’s my imagination—I don’t want to overthink anything—but it definitely feels like something has changed between us.
After the night I embarrassingly broke down and told Brooke my truth—well, most of my truth—he’s been so different.
But in a good way. I was worried he’d back off completely.
But he did the opposite. He’s been so affectionate, so attentive.
When I would join him on the course, he was constantly touching me, holding my hand, checking I was okay.
Whenever he’d line up for each shot, he’d look at me, right in my eyes every time before he swung.
Even without anyone around to witness, he’s been so touchy-feely.
He slept in the bed with me every night instead of the couch; I would drift off to sleep with his arms wrapped around me, and they’d still be there, holding me close when I would wake up each morning.
We haven’t been intimate again, not since that night, but we have kissed. A lot. So. Much. Kissing.
Brookes glances up then, meeting my eyes, his lips twitching. “Like what you see, Pops?”
My cheeks flush, and I avert my eyes back down to my sketch book, biting back a smile.
“What are you always scribbling in that thing?”
I snap my head up and Brookes juts his chin, indicating my book.
I hesitate, considering myself a moment.
The only other person in the world I’ve told that I design and create earrings is Rodrigo, and that’s only because one time, at Vista Palms, when I was wearing a pair, he was obsessed with them and asked me where I got them.
I told him I made them, and at first he didn’t believe me.
So, I made him a pair, and he’s been my most loyal customer to date, although I only ever charge him the cost of materials.
With a deep breath, I hold my book up, showing him the design I’ve been working on. But of course, he just quirks a confused brow because, at the end of the day, he’s just a boy.
“I design earrings,” I explain.
Brookes’ eyebrows climb high in obvious surprise. “You make them?”
“I sell them online.” I nod, touching the earrings I’m wearing right now, a simple, bright pink stud style.
“Wait.” Brookes narrows his eyes. “Was that what all that stuff was? The stuff in the bins we took from your old place.”
I nod again, smiling.
“Is that what you wanna do?” he asks. “Make earrings?”
I blush. “Yeah, in a perfect world. But unfortunately, it takes a lot of money to make a business successful. For now, I just design samples and post them on Etsy, and then I make them to order, if and when someone buys them. Actually…” I roll my lips together, not sure if I should admit this or not.
But then I decide why not? Brookes has seen my vagina up close and personal.
I’m pretty sure I can tell him just about anything.
“I’m going to buy a laser acrylic cutter with some of the money from—” I stop myself, pressing my lips together again, because it feels weird mentioning the money I’m being paid to be here, especially after the last few days.
Wrong, almost. Clearing my throat, I continue, “I use leather currently. Because it’s easier to work with, and I get the off-cuts super cheap.
Plus, they’re nice and light in the ears.
But there are so many different design options with acrylics. ”
“Are they… expensive? The laser… thingies?” Brookes asks, and I’m not sure, but he seems genuinely interested.
Smiling, I pull my knee up and get comfortable.
“The one I really want is. It’s the top of the line.
” I roll my eyes. “I mean, of course there are industrial-level machines that probably cost hundreds of thousands of dollars, but the one I want is the best of the best for smaller, home businesses. It’s twenty-four hundred bucks, but it does everything I need.
” It feels kind of ridiculous telling him this when he literally pocketed two and a half million big ones yesterday, but two-and-a-half grand is a lot of money to us normal folk.
“I’m going to buy the acrylic cutter, and a new laptop so that I can finally get this super cool design program where I can transfer my sketches straight to the machine and… voila.”
“That’s… really something, Pops.” Brookes nods, a contemplative look in his eyes.
“Yeah.” I shrug a shoulder. “When Simon found out about my earrings after I found him snooping through my sketch book, he laughed at me and told me it was just a silly little hobby.” I sniff a laugh, looking down at my sketch pad.
I don’t add that it’s probably nothing more than just some silly little hobby that will never amount to anything.
But I’ll never give up, even if it’s only ever a hobby because my dream has gotten me through some pretty dark days.
“Hey, come here.”
I snap my head back up to find Brookes still watching me. He pats a hand on his leg, where the athletic shorts he’s wearing have bunched up around his thick thigh, the hint of a smile ghosting his lips, and I notice an unreadable look in his eyes that I feel directly between my legs.
Glancing back toward the doorway the flight attendant has been coming and going from, I place my sketch book onto the small table next to me and unfasten my seatbelt.
Moving across the aisle to where Brookes holds an arm out for me, he helps me as I take a seat on his proffered thigh, and I hesitate for less than a second before looping my arms around his neck.
Staring up at me, Brookes’ eyes flit between mine. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
Taken aback by his words, my eyebrows tug together. “I mean.… duh.” I snort a laugh, pretending to flick my hair back, despite it being piled high in a messy knot on top of my head.
Brookes chuckles, but then his laughter subsides and he licks his lips. “Kiss me.”
Lust swirls low in my belly, and I glance warily back toward the doorway.
“She’s not coming in here unless we press the call button.” He answers my unspoken question, his hand moving down my back, following the curve of my ass, and back up again in a slow, teasing motion that is so simple yet sends a rush of want through me.
Cupping his stubbled jaw, I lean in and tentatively graze my lips with his, my kiss sweet and chaste. When I pull back, opening my eyes, I can’t help but laugh out loud when he looks at me, deadpan, cocking his head to the side.
“That’s it?” He scoffs. “That’s all I get?”
I bite back my smirk and lean in again, only this time his hand finds the back of my head, holding me close, and when our lips meet, he doesn’t let up, claiming mine and sliding his tongue into my mouth in a way that makes my thighs press together as a fire erupts low in my belly, reminding me exactly how much I want this man despite every one of my fears.
Brookes’ hand rubs up and down my thigh, his thumb skating dangerously close to the apex with every pass, and, breaking away from his lips, I glance down, watching him edge closer and closer.
His lips attach to my jaw, kisses peppering down the curve of my neck, finding the trigger point only he knows is there, and I sigh when he lashes his tongue against the spot, watching as my thighs ease open almost involuntarily.
Placing my hand over his, I’m timid as I urge him higher, where I need him so badly.
Thankfully he gets the memo, and when his fingers rub me through my leggings with the perfect amount of pressure, I find his lips again, his tongue, kissing him frantically as my hips jerk when he finds the hot spot.
“Oh,” I moan again into his mouth, overwhelmed with sensation.
“Ride my thigh,” Brookes utters against my lips, his big hands moving abruptly to my hips and guiding me.
My mind is nothing but a haze, but I lift up enough, straddling his thigh, his hands remaining on my hips, moving me in a way that makes me gasp out because holy shit.
“Oh my God,” I pant out, pulling away from his lips to look into his eyes.
A devilish smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth, his eyes blazing as they bore into mine, and with a slow nod, he grits out, “That’s it, baby. Use me.”
Grinding my needy core against his rock-hard thigh, my hips buck shamelessly and a mewl tumbles out of my mouth, my head thrown back when I feel that same tension at the base of my spine threatening to explode, every synapse in my body snapping and fizzing.
“Fuck, you’re pretty when you come,” Brookes gruffs, and then his big hand finds my throat, and firmly yet gently, he wraps around it.
My eyes blow out, but the slight restriction does something to me I’ve never felt before, something I don’t hate, something I want more of.
“Is this okay?” he whispers, staring deep into my eyes.
I nod quickly, and with a huffed chuckle he holds me right there, hand around my throat as he thrusts his tongue between my parted lips, the kiss both filthy and delicious.
When I feel the wave of my orgasm begin to crest, I tear myself away from Brookes’ lips, sucking in a gasp. “I think I’m going to—”
“That’s it, baby,” he rasps, still holding my throat with one hand, my hip with the other, his strong thigh rocking up and down, meeting my greedy center with fervor. “Be a good girl and come all over my thigh.”
When Brookes tightens his hold around my throat just a touch, warmth floods my body and sends me toppling over the edge, wetness pooling between my legs.
It’s as if I’m possessed. I’m forced to hold on tight around his neck, my body thrashing against his thigh as bliss surges through every part of me.
“Oh my God,” I whimper. “Yes, yes, yes.”
“Fuck yeah, baby,” he grits with a cocky smirk, his gaze flitting down to where I’m riding him. “Soak my fucking thigh.”
When it all becomes too much, I collapse, sagging against him and burying my face into the crook of his neck as aftershocks ravage every last part of me.
“Such a good fucking girl,” Brookes rasps, his lips grazing my ear and his big hands smoothing up and down my back.
Moments pass, and I’m still shuddering with the last lingering waves of my release. Pulling back, my head is dizzy as I meet Brookes’ heavy-lidded eyes, watching me with such an unexpected tenderness I feel it straight to my heart.
“You okay?” he whispers, cupping my cheek.
I nod, catching my breath. And then, I glance down between us, noticing the massive bulge in his shorts, and I can’t help but smile to myself at the thought that I did that to him.
Me. Then, glancing back to the door once more, I bite down on my bottom lip as anxiety and anticipation battle in my chest. Turning back to Brookes, I flash him a smile and lean in, whispering into his ear, “I want to suck your cock.”
“You do?” he asks, pulling back to gauge me.
I nod, feeling my cheeks flush.
“Have you… ever?”
Shame floods through me, and I avert my eyes. “I have. With… Simon. But he said I wasn’t very good.” I huff a humorless laugh.
Brookes tucks a finger beneath my chin, forcing my eyes back up and staring directly into mine. “Fuck that guy. You hear me?”
I nod, swallowing around the lump of trepidation in the back of my throat.
Still holding my chin, he touches my bottom lip, tugging on it with his thumb and dragging it down before releasing it with a pop as he says all low and gruff, “Get on your knees.”