Chapter 16
Brooke
Ithink if I came to Willow Bend to find Tobias is simply the same goofy, funny, laid-back guy I dated a decade ago, I’d be able to stay the course. I wouldn’t be struggling to rectify what I should do and what I want to do.
But the man standing in front of me now—claiming he hasn’t been with anyone since me in any capacity—isn’t the same Tobias Bradshaw I used to know.
He’s still goofy, funny, and laid-back.
Sometimes.
But now he’s also serious. Focused.
Intense.
And it’s that focused intensity I’m facing down now.
It’s consuming. It’s unrelenting.
It’s addicting.
It’s also clearly caused some form of temporary insanity, because I’m suddenly wrapping both arms around Tobias’s neck so I can pull his lips to mine.
The move is sudden. Unplanned. Uncontrollable. Much like the last time our mouths met in this very same place.
Only this round, I’m the instigator. Which is problem number one.
Problem number two? If I’m the instigator, I should also be the one who hits the brakes. Tobias did it last time—though maybe not gracefully—so now it’s my turn.
But I don’t know if I can. That I would if I could. Because being pressed against him like this feels too good. Familiar enough to not be weird, but new enough to be exciting.
That excitement is the excuse I’m going to lean on for why this kiss is significantly less sweet than the one Tobias offered, when he held me so carefully, brushing his lips against mine.
Conversely, I am attempting to climb him like a tree, the limitations of my pencil skirt making that all but impossible as my fingers tangle in his hair and my tongue flicks against the seam of his lips.
Tobias stiffens, going still for a split second before his mouth opens against mine, a groan passing from him to me as his hands come to grip my ass, palming the growing fullness there as he pulls me tight to him.
Trying to lift one leg so I can feel more of him, I make some sort of a weird sound in frustration when I can’t accomplish my goal. If I didn’t love this damn skirt so much, I’d consider tearing it in half, because I don’t think I have ever wanted to be closer to someone.
I also might have retained a little bit more of my hardheadedness than I thought, because I keep fighting the garment, and keep failing. Frustration mounting, I’m about two seconds from grabbing my scissors, when Tobias’s hands leave my ass, skimming down my thighs to grip the hem.
Is he considering tearing the thing in half? Part of me is horrified, because again, I love the skirt. Another baser, slightly more feral part of me is titillated, because holy shit that would be hot.
But instead of destroying one of my favorite articles of clothing, Tobias fists the fabric, dragging it up until it reaches my hips. His hands come to my waist, circling tight as he hefts me up like I weigh nothing, depositing my partially exposed ass onto the surface of my desk.
Okay… That might have been hotter than potential skirt tearing.
As soon as I'm in place, his mouth crashes back to mine, big body wedging between my spreadable thighs, giving me the sort of contact I was seeking. The pressure against my clit through the thin fabric of my tight-skirt-required G-string has me sucking in a sharp breath. After spending months—maybe years—drier than the Sahara, I forgot how good it felt to be aroused. Touched by someone who doesn’t disgust me. Someone I don’t despise.
Someone I don’t fear.
And now I’m chasing that high, legs hooking at Tobias’s hips as I writhe against him. Needing more. Wanting to finally feel good. Desired.
Safe.
And I do feel safe with Tobias. That’s probably the biggest problem I’m facing right now. The reason I haven’t been able to keep an amount of respectful distance between us.
There’s certainly nothing respectful about what’s happening between us now.
Tobias’s mouth leaves mine, moving along my jaw to nip at the spot just beneath my ear. “Can I touch you?”
My already smoldering insides ignite as desire flares through me. Before I can even begin to consider the full ramifications of what’s happening, I hear myself saying, “Yes.”
Loudly.
When Tobias’s hand trails up the inside of my thigh, it’s not clumsy or fumbling.
The movement is careful and controlled, but purposeful.
There’s no hesitation as his fingers tuck into the tiny scrap of fabric covering my pussy.
We both groan at that first touch, our voices mingling as his skin slides against mine.
“So fucking wet for me.” He teases along my slit, tracing a path over my heated flesh before focusing all his attention on the sensitive nub of my clit.
“Do you know how many times I’ve dreamed of touching you like this?
” Tobias lifts his head, eyes fused to my face.
“More than I can count.” He watches every expression I make as he works my body, quickly figuring out exactly how I like to be touched.
“I thought about how good I would make you feel. All the ways I would show you I’m better than I used to be. ”
The man isn’t lying. Tobias wasn’t terrible before, but he was a pretty standard twenty-year-old guy. Moderately capable. Tried to do his best, but didn’t quite have the patience or maturity to really shine.
Holy fuck is he glowing now.
Every pass of his fingers alongside my clit is exact and unerring.
There’s no change in pace or pressure as he brings me to the edge so quickly I don’t even know it’s happening.
The orgasm catches me completely by surprise, barreling down on me as I cling to the man threatening to undo me before I’m even fully back together.
“Fuck.” Tobias’s voice is a deep growl as he watches me, soaking up every sound I make as I hold onto him for dear life. “You are so pretty when you come.”
I’m not sure that’s true, but since I’m currently a worthless noodle, I am incapable of arguing.
I’m also apparently incapable of doing anything else, and the only reason I don’t spend the rest of the day sitting on my desk with my skirt around my waist is because Tobias gently pulls me to my feet.
Righting my clothes, he lowers me into my chair.
He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to my lips before saying, “Gotta go change my pants. I’ll see you at home.”
I stare after him as he leaves my office, closing the door behind him.
Did he..?
Was he saying..?
Is it possible Tobias Bradshaw just came in his pants from touching me?
No. That wouldn’t happen. Right?
Probably not.
But if it did…
That would be very, very sexy. And very, very good for my bruised ego.
After Tobias leaves my office, the rest of the day is pretty normal.
I get a lunch delivery from Greenhouse Café, and it is absolutely delicious.
The apple and brie sandwich is probably my favorite item from the menu, and it shows up here at least twice a week.
I’m not sure how Tobias has figured that out, because he never comes around while I’m eating, so someone must be feeding him information.
I just don’t know who.
But I wish they would offer me a little insight, because after leaving work I decide to go to the grocery and get something to cook for dinner.
Unfortunately, I don’t know what in the heck Tobias likes to eat.
Everything he’s cooked so far has been meat and potatoes—plus the chicken soup he made when I was sick—but I don’t know if that’s because it’s easy, or if it’s because it’s what he likes.
There is someone who might be able to give me an idea though.
I pull out my phone and dial one of the few personal numbers it contains.
“Hey, lady.” Mariah’s sunshiny voice has me smiling. “How are you?”
“I’m good.” I work my lower lip between my teeth, suddenly feeling a little concerned my question might be taken the wrong way.
“I was planning to cook Tobias dinner as a thank you for letting me stay with him while I was sick.” That sounds reasonable, right?
Platonic. Not at all like I’m still riding the high of the orgasm he gave me during work hours.
“But I don’t know what he would like, and I thought you might have some ideas for me. ”
“Hmmm…” Mariah pauses for a second. “What does Tobias like to eat…”
“I think I can answer that question.” Titus’s voice in the background carries a smirk, and has my skin heating.
“Ignore him.” I can almost hear her eyes rolling. “I don’t know if you have brothers, but they don’t miss an opportunity to torment each other.”
“I don’t have brothers or sisters, but I remember how the Bradshaw boys are.”
I also remember how much Tobias bitched about it. The way he acted like his brothers drove him nuts and his mother’s attention was stifling.
It’s why I thought he would want to come to California with me.
I took his words at face value because I understood what it was like to have a family you didn’t enjoy.
Never in a million years would it have occurred to me that someone would have the luxury of dishing out empty complaints.
Not when the ones I had about my own parents were so full.
“Back to what Tobias likes to eat.” Mariah quickly redirects the conversation and my thoughts. “I’ve noticed when their mom makes tacos, he eats them like he may never get another one in his lifetime.”
Tacos? I can make tacos.
Aiming for the aisle with preblended spices and shells, I ask, “Crunchy or soft?”
“Both. He layers them together with cheese in the middle.”
That actually sounds freaking delicious. “Got it.”
“And he flipping loves dessert. Of any kind. Eats the absolute shit out of it.”
I’m not a terrible cook, but no one will ever accuse me of missing my calling as a baker. “I’m not so good at making desserts.”
“I actually have a recipe for something really simple if you want it.” Mariah makes the offer without me even having to ask. It’s unexpected. Endearing.
“I would love that.” Grabbing both crunchy and soft taco shells off the shelf, I drop them into my basket. “I owe you big time.”
Mariah snorts. “Pretty sure you can make it up to me once these babies are here, because I have a feeling Tobias is going to try to buy them a petting zoo. So if you can just make sure that doesn’t happen, consider us even for eternity.”
I can actually see Tobias doing that. He is so excited to be an uncle, and determined the twins are going to favor him above everyone else. “I’ll do my best.”
Mariah and I say our goodbyes, and I pull up the recipe she texts me, pleasantly surprised that it does seem pretty simple. Not sure how well-stocked Tobias’s kitchen is, I collect all the ingredients it requires then check out.
After getting ho—to Tobias’s house, I let both dogs out, giving each of them a homemade treat from the jar, before putting away the groceries.
The first thing I tackle is the dessert Mariah suggested.
I’m having my doubts about the whole thing as I pour the mixed batter into a baking dish, but it’s too late to turn back now.
I slide it into the oven, setting a timer before hurrying upstairs.
While I was sick, Tobias brought all my clothes here, stacking the folded items in neat piles along the top of his dresser and hanging everything else in the closet.
I shuck my work clothes, tossing the machine washable items into the laundry basket before taking a quick shower.
I towel off and lotion up, only to discover my limited number of pajamas are dirty.
Since I’m still dealing with a limited budget, everything else I own is for work.
I obviously need to do laundry more regularly than I thought.
Good to know, but not really helpful right now.
I don’t have any other option but to raid Tobias’s closet.
I’ve done it once before, but that was when I didn’t have anything else here.
Technically, I was sick all weekend—preventing me from even thinking about doing laundry—so I try not to feel like I’m overstepping as I pull on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, layering on one of his MSS hoodies since I’m a little chilly.
Hair up in another messy bun, I hurry back downstairs to begin making dinner. I’m not sure what time Tobias will be home, but taco meat can hang out indefinitely, and everything else is just toppings, so it should be fine.
Just as I’m putting a lid on the meat so it can simmer, my cell phone dings, alerting me to a text message. I pick it up, expecting it to be Mariah asking me how her dessert suggestion went, but it’s Tobias letting me know he’s on his way home.
Something flutters inside my belly. A nervous sort of energy buzzing through me as I chop lettuce and tomatoes, grateful I have something to do. Because I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to sit down right now.
When I hear the garage open, heat crawls up my neck and across my face. I feel… embarrassed. Weird. Nervous about facing Tobias after what happened in my office.
It’s occurring to me for the first time that being here with him in his house might be awkward now. Strange.
Uncomfortable.
The thought is terrifying. I know what it’s like to feel uncomfortable in my own home, and I don’t want to make Tobias feel like that.
I look down at the food, guts churning. I think I screwed up. Will he be unhappy with the way I’ve taken over his kitchen—and his closet?
As Tobias walks in, the knife I’ve got gripped in my hand slips, dropping toward the floor.
And my bare toes.
It connects, and I make a weird gasping, yelping noise.
I can’t even get a good look at what damage has been done before my whole body is in the air, lifting off the ground.
Just like in my office, Tobias hefts me easily, dropping my ass onto the counter this time.
One strong hand lifts my foot toward his face for inspection, expression pinched in what looks like anger.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” Familiar words pour through my lips in an attempt at damage control. My latest effort to smooth over my misdeeds before—
Tobias’s touch is gentle as his thumb skims across the bruise blooming over my big toe. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the spot before straightening to his full height. He looms over me, dark eyes studying my face.
His jaw flexes, then he takes a deep breath, eyes closing as he blows it back out. His demeanor seems calmer when his lids lift, and I relax a little.
But all that relaxation is gone when he says, “I think I’m gonna need you to tell me what he did to you.”