Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Apartment
I tried to explain everything in linear fashion, but eventually my excitement overwhelmed me. As I spoke, more and more ideas for my plan evolved.
Eventually, I turned and looked at him. I wanted to see his face and gauge his expression. Glean any sort of truth about how he felt about my crazy idea.
I exhausted all my words and ended on a gasp, like I’d been running a marathon and had finally made it to the finish line.
Brooks didn’t say anything for a long time. He just stared at me with those whiskey-colored eyes.
My excitement dimmed. “You hate the idea. You think it’s stupid.”
He shook his head slowly.
“Then say something,” I said with exasperation. “I know I haven’t thought out a true business plan, and I will, but right now, I’m going on intuition. And I think it could be really wonderful. Not just for me, but for the town.”
“I think it’s a genius idea,” he said.
I froze. “You do?”
“Yes. I think you found something you’ll love, and I think you found something the town will love. Not just love. Need. I think you and the town need this.”
He lifted my hands in his and kissed my knuckles. “I think it goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway. If you need my help, you let me know. Yeah?”
“Thank you.” I wiggled my finger out of his hold so I could skim it along his cheek. “Oh God.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I just got super overwhelmed.” I laughed. “I had this big crazy idea and now I have to execute it.”
“Start with one thing at a time. What’s the first thing you need to do?”
“Finalize a better plan. Have a clearer vision.”
“It’ll change. You’ll start in one place, but it’ll end up somewhere else. Know what has to be set in stone and let the other pieces fall into place.” He dropped my hands. “Sorry, you didn’t ask for my advice.”
“I did, though. In a way,” I said with a soft smile. “By telling you.”
“Thank you for telling me.” He leaned across the bed and brushed his lips across my mouth before pulling back. “So, does this mean you’re staying?”
I nodded.
“You’re ready to start a new life here?”
I nodded again.
“That means . . . you and I—”
I launched myself at him, my lips fusing with his.
My head was buzzing with excitement and the thrill of the new. And it zoomed through my body with no outlet.
“Brooks,” I whispered, my fingers plowing into his hair. “Take me to bed.”
His hands slid up my spine to grasp the back of my neck. “You sure, Freckles?”
“Yes.”
I was done thinking. I didn’t need to think.
For the first time in my life, my body wasn’t rebelling. It yearned. It craved. It demanded. And I knew it wouldn’t suddenly decide it didn’t want Brooks.
Funny, how the body knew before the mind.
I tore my lips from his and sat back, putting just enough space between us so that I could take off my shirt. I was suddenly grateful I had smaller breasts because it meant I didn’t have to wear a bra.
All of the lights were on in the apartment—and Brooks could see everything.
I could see him too. The clenching of his jaw as he looked at me. The darkening of his amber eyes as lust overtook him.
Before I knew it, Brooks all but pounced.
Laughing, I fell back against the bed and Brooks covered me with his muscular frame.
He draped himself over me and I sighed in bliss when there was no feeling of panic.
“Freckles?”
Brooks peered down at me.
“Kiss me,” I purred.
He pressed his mouth to mine and swept his tongue inside.
Quivers spread through my entire form as I sank into the feel, the taste of him.
I was abuzz; my skin was fire. I cradled the back of his large head and kept his mouth to mine but lifted my body so we could be even closer.
His lips broke from mine and skated over my fevered cheek to my ear and then he kissed lower. He pressed a kiss to my neck and then my collarbone and then lower still to my breast.
He gently captured a nipple into his mouth and sucked.
I let out a screech of enjoyment.
My nipple popped from his mouth. “Poet?”
“Feels good,” I murmured, my eyes languid, my heart pounding in my ears.
He smiled before retaking my nipple into his mouth. He lavished it until it was a hard point and played with the other until I was thrashing against him. Needing more. Needing so much more.
Needing him.
“Brooks,” I croaked.
“I know,” he murmured, kissing my lips again as his hand went to the button of my jeans.
He paused ever so slightly and when I nodded against him, he undid them and slowly lowered the zipper.
Brooks eased back so I could lift up and he slid my jeans down my legs, so I was in nothing but lace panties.
He stared at me for a long moment, just peering at me, like he was memorizing how I looked.
I sat up and took down my messy top bun and removed my glasses and set them on the nightstand. He was close enough that I could still see him clearly.
I climbed off the bed and took his hand, urging him to stand. He did so without thought.
My fingers shook as they went for the buttons of his shirt, but he stood by and let me slowly undress him. It was like unwrapping a present you’ve wanted your entire life. It took everything in me not to rip the clothes off him because I wanted to savor this moment.
When he stood in nothing but his navy boxer briefs, his massive thighs stretching the material, I swallowed.
Not in fear.
But in anticipation.
He was golden skinned and tattooed.
His erection strained against his boxers.
Okay, maybe a little bit of fear.
I kept my eyes on his while I slowly removed my panties.
I stood in front of him. Naked. Unashamed.
Choosing him and this moment.
Brooks lowered his boxer briefs.
My gaze widened as the full picture of him came into focus.
He was huge everywhere.
“Come here, Freckles,” he rasped.
I walked to him.
He placed his hands on my shoulders, a tender comfort as my heart started beating wildly, wanting to fly from my chest.
He slid his arms beneath me and carried me, bride style, back to the bed. He lay me down in the center and covered me with his body again.
His skin was warm and perfect. And such a contrast to mine. He was hard where I was soft. He was muscled where I was curved.
My legs fell open and he pressed against me.
He groaned in pleasure.
And then I reached for him again. His lips met mine in a searing, drugging kiss that spun my head and robbed me of thought.
Primal, desperate instinct took over.
Brooks’ hand slid between our bodies, his fingers sifting through the damp curls shielding me.
“God, you’re already wet for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I mewled, my hands pressing to his shoulders as I lifted my body up, searching, searching desperately for him.
He removed his fingers and I pulled him against me, not wanting any space, not wanting anything between us.
The tip of him grazed against me and I shuddered in pleasure.
He did it again and his tongue plunged into my mouth, mimicking the rhythm that his body wanted to follow.
There was no thought, no stopping.
“Poet, wait,” he whispered, “let me just get—”
I wrapped my legs around his hips to keep him where I wanted him. And then I grabbed his ass in my hands, lifted myself up, and he slid all the way inside me.
My body jerked and a cry tore from my lips.
Brooks pulled back to stare down at me, his face awash with shock as his eyes drifted to the spot we were joined.
“Poet are you—”
“Not anymore,” I gasped.
It burned and pinched and the pain spread through my lower belly.
“Brooks,” I whispered, tears gathering in my eyes and cascading down my temples.
“I know, baby. It’ll pass in a moment.” He stole my lips in another kiss, keeping himself completely still.
My body softened and the pain ebbed. I wiggled against him.
“Don’t,” he gasped against my mouth. “Just give it a moment.”
But I didn’t listen.
I wriggled underneath him again, silently begging for something I couldn’t describe.
But Brooks knew what I needed because when he started to rock into me; sparks of pleasure crackled between my legs.
He slid his hand to my outer thigh, gripping it.
I felt him everywhere.
And soon the pain was gone completely.
My body recognized the call of his, and when he slid his fingers between us again, searching and then finding what he was looking for, he gently stroked it.
And I came with a strangled, guttural cry, as if every bit of pleasure my body could ever feel came to the surface now.
I shook and quivered and was in the middle of full body convulsions when Brooks pulled out. A moment later he came all over my stomach, branding me with his warm seed.
Another bout of pleasure wracked me.
His face was contorted in an expression of gratification, and his cheeks were flushed with heat. His golden skin was slick with sweat.
Brooks looked at me for a moment and then he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his feet touching the floor. His head was bent and his arms rested on his thighs.
He reminded me of a stallion caught in the rain; its head angled in an attempt to shield itself from the downpour.
I glanced down at my belly which glistened with his release.
We hadn’t used a condom.
The warm glow of my aftermath evaporated immediately.
“Brooks?” I whispered.
“I need a minute.” His voice was a low, raspy growl. And then he stood up and went to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
Tears gathered in my eyes as I pulled the sheet over me. That was the second time today I was crying after an intimate moment with Brooks.
Remorse coated my tongue.
With the pleasure of my orgasm fading, my body remembered pain and with every heartbeat, I was reminded of what I’d just done.
The door to the bathroom opened and Brooks strode out, still naked, the remains of my virginity a red souvenir on his still half-erect shaft.
Without a word, he held out a hand to me.
I looked at it for a moment, unsure.
He waited.
Finally, I sat up, wrapped the sheet around me and took his hand.
He led me to the bathroom. He’d started a bath.
“Get in,” he commanded.
His tone didn’t allow for argument. I was raw, both physically and emotionally.
I dropped the sheet and stepped into the tub. The water wasn’t warm enough for my liking and once I was sitting in the tub that had only filled up to my lap, I cranked the hot tap.
“Scoot forward.”
I looked at him and frowned but did as he wanted. Brooks stepped into the tub behind me.
“Fuck, woman. Are you trying to boil me alive?”
I turned on the cold tap.
Brooks wrapped his arms around me and pulled me back against him. We sat like that until the clawfoot tub was full enough and I shut off the water.
The faucet dripped for a few moments and then stopped.
Silence filled the small, steamy room, but I remained quiet, even when the tension swelled to a breaking point.
“You were a virgin.”
It sounded like an accusation.
“Yes,” I croaked out.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me? I could’ve done things differently.”
I looked at him over my shoulder. “I didn’t want you to treat me like a virgin. That’s not what I wanted.”
He brushed my hair off my shoulder to reveal my skin. Brooks pressed his lips there.
“You’re upset,” I said.
“Upset is the wrong word.”
“Then what—”
“You didn’t let me get a condom,” he said quietly. “You should always be thinking of your own protection. I could’ve been carrying something.”
I let out a squeak.
“I’m not,” he assured me quickly. “But fuck, woman.”
I nibbled on my lip. “I know. I know it was foolish and stupid and—and hedonistic. But I couldn’t stop, Brooks. I didn’t want to stop.”
He grabbed the soap from the recessed shower niche and began making a lather.
“It took all of my willpower to pull out,” he said.
Brooks began washing my back.
“Are you mad? That I was a virgin?”
“Mad? No.”
“You seem mad.”
“You haven’t seen me mad.”
I swallowed.
“So, what was this to you?” he asked. “You just wanted to give your virginity to the ex-con biker so you could have a good story to tell? What?”
I frowned. “You think that’s why I went to bed with you? For a good story?”
When he didn’t reply, I reached around to grab his hand to force him to stop, twisting my body so I could halfway face him.
“I gave you my virginity because you make me feel safe. I—I didn’t know what that was like, Brooks.
All this time, I thought there was something wrong with me. Because I’ve tried to lose it before.”
He made a noise of annoyance, and I held in my smile.
“But every time it came down to it, I couldn’t do it. My body rebelled. It said no. Now I know the truth.”
“Which is?”
“I was waiting for you.” My smile quivered. “Waiting for you to make me feel safe and secure. And so out of my mind with desire that I didn’t stop you from sliding into me without a condom.”
“I didn’t slide into you. You took it upon yourself, remember?”
He gently grasped my chin between his thumb and forefinger and brought my face close to his for a hot, searing kiss.
“We’ve got a problem, though,” he said when he pulled back.
I nodded. “I know. I’m not on birth control and we didn’t use a—”
“Not that,” he interrupted.
“What then?”
“I warned you about me.”
I frowned in confusion. “Warned me?”
“About my quirks.”
“Your obsessive tendencies, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“Not following.”
“I made you mine, Freckles.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “And I don’t think you’re prepared for what that really means.”