Chapter 23 Hannah
TWENTY-THREE
HANNAH
I’ve always thought a man looked infinitely better when he was on his knees, and Brody is proving my theory correct. Eyes locked on mine. Cock thick and hard in his briefs. His palms—those big palms—are flat on the rug, and he’s crawling to me on all fours.
It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’d never admit I’m holding back a moan while the muscles in his arm flex with every inch he moves. A lock of hair falls in his face but he ignores it, and I decide I want him like this a thousand fucking times.
His shoulders fill the space between my legs, his big and broad body bathed in shades of gold and yellow in the dimly lit room. Brody lifts his chin, bottom lip caught between his teeth while his hand flexes on the rug.
“Can I?” he rasps, attention moving from my face to my underwear. “Please?”
“You’ve been so patient, Brody.”
I sit up and reach behind me, pulling down the zipper on my gown.
I make a show of it, slipping the straps off my shoulders and letting the dress pool around my stomach.
I lift my hips, leaving me in my new lingerie set—a light pink strapless top that pushes my breasts together and matching bottoms that show off my ass—and smile.
“You’re a goddess.” Up on his knees, Brody puts both hands on the inside of my thighs. “I’m not worthy. Not after what I did last time.”
“Hey.” I bend so I can kiss him. He tastes like alcohol and something sweet. The hint of forbidden. A trace of I don’t give a shit. “The past is in the past. We talked about it, and now we’re moving on. You want me, don’t you?”
“I might die if I can’t have you.” He runs his knuckles along the front of my underwear before giving them a firm yank, ripping the delicate material.
When I start to protest, he puts his mouth on my hip, sucking a small pink mark on my skin.
“I’ll buy you a new pair. A hundred pairs.
I’ll do whatever you ask, but only because I know how wet it gets you.
” He pushes a single finger inside me, and my back arches.
A moan escapes me when he turns his wrist, getting deeper.
“Yeah,” he whispers, licking my belly. “Just like that.”
The anticipation of waiting for this for the last two hours—the last two years—takes hold of me. I want him more now than I did that first night, and I didn’t think that was possible.
“That feels so good,” I tell him, letting him know how much I like what he’s doing. My nails dig into his shoulder, trying to grasp hold. “The perfect spot.”
“Mark me up, Hannah.” A kiss to my stomach, but lower than before. He’s so close to where I need him the most. Taunting me with a second finger and a warm breath at the apex of my thighs. “Give me a badge of honor to wear when I go back to practice on Monday.”
It’s satisfying to think about him walking around with a reminder of our night together in a place no one can see.
It makes me urge his head down my body and place my feet on his shoulders.
It’s why I spread my legs wider. It’s why I reach out, curl my fingers under his chin and say, “You look hungry. You should eat, Brody.”
His dark eyes flash with desire, liquid heat I feel on every inch of my body. Bliss greets me, refuses to let go when he licks my pussy. Gaze on me. Focused beyond belief, his tongue presses against my clit, a satisfied noise rattling out of him when I moan his name.
“I’ve thought about this almost every night.
” Brody bites my thigh, soothing over the sting with a trail of kisses.
“The sounds you make.” A third finger, and color sparks behind my eyes.
My gasp is lodged somewhere in my throat, unable to make any noise because he’s finding a rhythm.
Alternating the press of his tongue with the slick glide of his fingers, I know the reason I haven’t wanted to hook up with anyone else is because nothing, no one, would ever be better than him.
“The taste of your cum on my tongue. How tight you are, but how perfectly we fit together.”
My pleasure is building. My body is yielding to him, greedy for every single thing he gives me. Another kiss. A sharper bite. A lick that tells me he’s holding back, drawing this out for as long as he can, and I don’t know if I hate him or love him.
My legs press against his head. I sigh, touching him wherever I can reach.
Brody pulls his fingers out of me and puts both hands under my thighs, yanking me all the way to the edge of the bed.
My ass hangs over the mattress. I’m close to falling, but he doesn’t let me.
He’s still there. Still devouring me, and when he circles my clit with his tongue, I almost jolt off the bed.
“Stop moving,” he growls, lifting an arm over my stomach to hold me still with a heavy weight. The awareness of being trapped is heady, and his low chuckle makes me smile. “You’re so fucking needy.”
“For you. I want you inside me, Brody. I want you to fuck me.”
“Not until you come.” A long, slow lick that has me questioning how much longer I can hold on. He doesn’t give in to my plea. “You know I make it so good for you, Hannah.”
So fucking good.
He starts again, each press of his fingers bringing me closer to the precipice of ecstasy.
He’s like a god on his knees, a willing worshipper of my body and my undoing.
Wet fingers—four now—and hurried kisses.
My body is his canvas and he doesn’t stop, not until I finally, finally feel that satisfaction within reach.
It only makes Brody work harder. He grunts, a bead of sweat rolling from his forehead to his cheek.
He whispers silly things, telling me how beautiful I am, how I was made for him, how much he missed having me like this, and when he drags his fingers from my clit, across my entrance, and all the way to my ass, I lose it.
I explode, completely undone. He doesn’t offer me a break, stealing a second orgasm from me before I can recover from the first, and that’s never, ever happened.
His forehead rests against my thigh, shoulders heaving as he holds up his hand.
Languid movements. Deep breaths, he traces my lips with his wet fingers.
“Open up and suck,” he says, and my lips part. I taste myself on his finger, licking from tip to knuckle. His groan could shake the walls, and his free hand rests on my knee as I suck his finger clean. “Fuck. Look at you.”
“I’m on cloud nine.” My vision is hazy. Everything around me looks dreamlike, fuzzy outlines of colors and shapes. “You deserve a gold star, Coach.”
Brody kisses my shin. “The highest honor.”
“Will you fuck me now? You already know how needy I am.”
“Not yet.” His thumb digs into my calf, coaxing out another moan from me. “I need a minute.”
“A minute?” I bring my feet away from his shoulders, my muscles objecting. I wince when I sit upright, everything heavy and sated. “Are you okay?”
“Finished in my fucking briefs,” he says, and my eyes snap to the front of his gray underwear. I see the wet circle on the cotton, the obvious effect I’ve had on him, and he covers my mouth with his hand. “No jokes. No calling me old. I’m fully capable of fucking you, and I’m going to.”
“Brody Saunders. The guy who likes to eat women out.” I smile against his palm. “I can’t tell you how hot that is.”
“Is it?” He grimaces when he stands, stretching out his legs. “That’s the first time it’s ever happened to me.”
“Yeah. It makes me feel…” A quiet laugh. “Wanted, I guess.”
“Oh, Hannah.” He cups my cheek, thumb tracing the curve of my jaw. “I want you in so many ways.”
“Tell me about them.” I reach behind my back, unclasping my bra so my breasts spill free. “Where? When? How often?”
“If I tell you the answers are everywhere, every second, and every day, will it go to your head?” Brody motions for me to scoot back on the bed and I do, relaxing against the sheets while my hair scatters across his pillows.
He holds himself above me, my nipple caught between his thumb and pointer finger with a rough pinch. “Probably.”
“Sounds like we’re going to have to do this again, then. Would more than one time hooking up be okay with you?” I ask.
“You made me come, and you didn’t even touch me.” His laugh is self-deprecating. Fucking cute as hell. “You know I’d be more than okay with seeing you again.”
“Okay.” I wet my lips. Guess we’re talking about this now. “We’re two adults who like to spend time together. Who are good in bed together. Calling it friends with benefits—even though we are friends who are indulging in benefits—feels too—”
“Casual?” Brody finishes for me, and I nod. “But labeling it as a relationship seems—”
“Too serious, too soon?” I say, and it’s his turn to nod.
“I haven’t dated anyone in a very long time. With Liv and coaching, my attention is all over the place. But I acknowledge that I like you, Hannah. That I want to keep spending time with you, even if we don’t have a way to define it yet.”
“Are we exclusive?” I ask. I’m afraid I’m moving the conversation along too quickly, but then I remember what Brody has said to me in the past: he doesn’t bullshit anyone.
He’s going to tell you exactly what’s on his mind, and if he didn’t want to figure this out right now, he’d shut it down. “Or also sleeping with other people?”
“I’d like for us to be exclusive. I’m thirty-nine, Hannah.
I’m too old for hookup culture.” He kisses me, and I let myself daydream about what this would be like every night.
I’d wait up for him to get home from a road trip.
Maybe I’d surprise him in his hotel room.
“But I know that isn’t only up to me to decide. ”
“Exclusive it is. I’ve never been a fan of sharing my favorite things.” I touch his tattoo, the one he got for me, and my heart surges in my chest. “And you’re becoming one of my favorite things, Brody.”
“People tell me I need to have more fun. What do you think?” Brody pins my arms above my head, and I gasp.
He rocks his hips, the head of his cock pressing against my entrance through his briefs.
“I asked you a question, Hannah,” he whispers in my ear, and oh.
That possessive, raw scratch of his voice electrifies me. “You should answer it.”
“Fun is good. We’ll have plenty of fun,” I blurt, squirming beneath him. “Do you want me to sign on a dotted line or something?”
“No.” His laugh is a caress. “Just spread your legs, sweetheart, so I can feel your tight cunt.”