Chapter 12 Brooks
Brooks
The warmth of her skin beneath my touch jolted through me like a live wire, sharp and instant, shooting straight down to my cock. Annie set her mug aside, her focus shifting entirely to me, and that look in her eyes—the sultry weight of it, the curve of her smirk—was the only confirmation I needed.
The movie on the TV may as well have been static. My attention was hers. All hers.
Her leg pressed into my hand, urging me closer, silently daring me to keep going.
My restraint, what little I’d managed to cling to these past two nights, snapped like brittle ice under her gaze.
God, she was testing me, taunting me, and she had no idea the dangerous ground she was walking on.
Or maybe she did. Maybe she wanted to see how far I’d go.
Joke’s on her. I’d go farther than either of us were ready for. I’d go until she forgot every man before me. I was already halfway there.
Messing around with Annie wasn’t supposed to be in the cards.
Rules blurred in the quiet glow of her living room; the faint twinkle of holiday lights making her hair gleam auburn fire.
We weren’t coworkers in an office. No HR department would barge in to remind us this was inappropriate.
Let’s face it, we’d both felt this pull before I knew about the damn nanny job.
The faint sound of a Christmas classic hummed in the background as I shifted and moved towards her, bracing myself on either side of her. She didn’t flinch, didn’t pull back, didn’t retreat. She let me move in, let me hover above her, my arms caging her against the couch’s armrest.
Christ, she was stunning like this. Auburn strands haloed around her, skin flushed warm, lips parted in expectation. She looked like a secret I’d waited too long to uncover.
I brushed a lock of hair from her cheek, and she leaned into my touch like she’d been waiting for it. My chest tightened, my heart pounding as I lingered there, hesitant despite how badly I wanted to devour her. I needed a sign. One clear sign that this wasn’t just me pushing too far.
Then she gave it to me.
Her hand slipped between us, bold and certain, closing over the thick length straining against my jeans. The shock of it ripped through me, my hips jerking in response before I could stop myself. Hard. Ready. Fucking aching.
A low groan escaped me, rough and unguarded.
Annie’s lips curved as she squeezed, teasing, her thumb dragging along my ridge. “Mmm,” she hummed, eyes glittering with mischief.
I dropped my forehead closer, voice raw. “You have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this.”
Her brows lifted, a playful tilt to her head as she studied me. “About what exactly?”
“About you. Underneath me. Touching me. Driving me insane.” My words came out ragged, pulled straight from the truth I hadn’t dared say until now.
Her breath caught, then a laugh tumbled from her lips—breathy, wild, like she didn’t know whether to resist me or egg me on. Her lashes fluttered as she squeezed me again, and I swore I saw her picturing it too.
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little curious,” she admitted, voice low.
“Curious?” I ground out, biting back another groan as she stroked me.
“You. Me.” Her eyes flicked down to her hand, then back up. “What this would be like. I’d also be lying if I said I wasn’t… insanely attracted to you.”
Relief and hunger slammed into me at once.
Thank God. Because the truth was, I was already gone for her.
Something about her—the fire in her hair, the stubborn tilt of her chin, that fierce independence—had me hooked the first night I met her.
She wasn’t fragile. She wasn’t waiting to be swept off her feet.
She stood her ground, and she’d make me want to work for every inch she gave me.
That was what pulled me in.
Fuck, it was why I couldn’t back away now.
Still hovering, I tilted my face toward hers, letting my breath brush above her skin. A test. A warning. A promise. She tipped her head, baring her throat for me, and the trust in that small movement nearly undid me.
I lowered my mouth, letting my breath skim across the delicate line of her neck. She shivered, the hand she placed in my hair pulling me closer. I kissed her there, soft, lingering, savoring the taste of her skin.
“Jesus,” she whispered, her voice catching.
“You like that?” I murmured against her, lips grazing over her pulse. “You like when I do this?”
I teased her with the tip of my tongue, dragging it slow across the side of her throat. She nodded, moaning, and the sound had me hard enough to ache. I kissed her again, then grazed her skin with my teeth—gentle, careful, enough to make her gasp.
Her scent filled me, warm vanilla and sugar. It was heady and addictive. Sweet and sinful. Like Christmas, but better. Like temptation I had no intention of resisting.
My cock throbbed beneath her touch, and I couldn’t take the distance anymore. I pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. Her pupils were blown wide, lips parted, cheeks flushed. She looked wrecked and gorgeous and ready to ruin me.
“Wrap your hand around my cock, Red,” I whispered, my voice rougher than I meant it to be. “Don’t hold back now.”
Her smirk deepened, and with a confidence that nearly made me lose it, she used both hands to unbutton my jeans. Her fingers brushed my skin as she freed me, and I hissed out a curse.
“Fuck.”
The warmth of her hand wrapped around me was enough to steal my breath, every slow stroke teasing me closer to the edge while holding me maddeningly back. I needed more.
More pressure.
More speed.
More Annie.
But I also needed less—less fabric separating me from the rest of her.
I shifted upward, keeping one knee pressed into the couch cushion and the other foot planted firmly on the floor.
Annie’s eyes dropped to my erection, her gaze lingering like she was studying every inch of me.
Then, with that mischievous, wicked grin of hers, she tilted her chin back up and met my eyes.
The grin nearly undid me. God, those pouty lips of hers—always so soft, so tempting—I wondered how they’d look stretched around my cock, how she’d taste, how she’d sound.
A low, hungry sound escaped me as my own hand wrapped around my shaft, stroking in long, steady motions while my mind painted every possible fantasy of her mouth on me.
“I hope you’re thinking about me while you do that,” she murmured, her voice soft but sultry, a challenge hidden beneath the tease.
My eyes locked with hers, and I gave a sharp nod. “Do you want to know exactly what’s going through my mind?”
Her lips parted as she breathed out, “Yes.” She leaned forward, so close her mouth hovered almost at the perfect height, her lashes fanning as she looked up at me.
Then, without breaking eye contact, Annie tugged at the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, tossing it to the floor in a careless sweep.
Her bra—a delicate lace in a soft Christmas red—was sheer enough to leave absolutely nothing to my imagination.
My chest tightened, my cock twitching in my hand as her nipples pressed insistently against the thin fabric.
She was flushed, a warm, rosy pink climbing her chest and throat, betraying just how turned on she was. It made me ravenous, that proof of her desire, of how much she wanted this. Wanted me.
I wanted her too.
“I was imagining,” I said, voice low, rough, “what those lips would look like wrapped around me. Wet. Sucking. Taking me deep until I couldn’t think straight.”
Annie’s lips curved as she bit down softly on the bottom one.
She reached forward, sliding her hand over mine, halting my rhythm.
With deliberate patience, she pulled my hand away and let it fall uselessly at my side.
Then, she wrapped her own fingers around my cock.
Her touch was smoother, hotter, more intoxicating than I’d even dreamed.
“Funny,” she whispered, shifting on the couch until she was directly in front of me, perfectly poised. Her grip tightened around me, stroking once before holding me steady. “Because I was thinking the same thing.”
My breath caught. “About your lips on me?”
Her eyes glimmered with challenge. “That… and what you’d taste like.”
Before I could respond, she leaned in and pressed her mouth to the tip, her lips soft and wet as they parted. A groan ripped from my throat, deep and helpless, as her tongue flicked against the most sensitive part of me.
The warmth of her mouth was everything. Her tongue circled slowly, teasing, coaxing, while her lips created that perfect pull of suction that made every nerve in my body light up.
“Jesus, Annie…”
She hummed, the vibration shooting down my spine. She was unhurried, savoring the moment, exploring with each slow lick and delicate suck like she was memorizing my shape, my taste, learning exactly how to unravel me piece by piece.
Annie looked breathtaking doing it. Her auburn hair tumbled forward, a curtain of fire and silk, her flushed cheeks hollowing as she drew me deeper. Her eyes flicked up at me, and that single look—the sparkle of desire, the power she knew she held—nearly undid me.
I leaned forward, my hands brushing over her shoulders, then sliding behind her. With fingers that shook slightly from restraint, I unclasped her bra. The lace slackened instantly, and she let it slip down her arms, dropping it beside her shirt without pause.
Her breasts spilled free, round and full, the dusky peaks already stiff from arousal. My hands ached to cup them, to knead and worship them as much as I wanted to be inside her.
“God, Red…” My voice broke into a groan as she took me deeper, her lips stretching to accommodate me, her tongue swirling as if she wanted to make me lose every ounce of control.
The sight of her—bare, wild, flushed with desire as she worked me with her mouth—was almost too much. And yet, I knew I’d never get enough.