10. Skye
Nestling into the comforting warmth cocooning me, I let out a sigh. That had to have been the best night’s sleep I’d ever had. Sleepily disoriented, I blinked my eyes open when I felt movement beneath my cheek. It was dark, and the wind was still blustering outside, but I was deliciously warm. And the reason for that was the body I was curled against.
Brody.
My entire being thrummed with awareness as I realized my head was on his chest, and the movement I felt was from his slow, even breaths.
He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and not only was my cheek pressed against his skin, but my fingers were spread over the hard muscles of his abdomen, the soft fuzz of his happy trail tickling my palm.
I quickly searched my memory. Had we…? But no, I was still fully dressed.
Was Brody naked, though? Just to check, I inched my hand downward. My fingers brushed against fabric, confirming he was wearing pajama pants.
A shiver ran through me. I knew from where my hand rested that his pants were pulled low on his hips. A vision crept into my head. One where I slid my hand under his waistband and wrapped it around him. My breathing sped up, and my eyelids drifted closed again as I let myself indulge in the fantasy. Just for a few seconds. Because what he’d said last night about thinking of me while he touched himself had stayed front and center in my mind, leaving me agitated and more than a little aroused.
There was no way I would really do it. But I did slip the tips of my fingers just under the waistband of his pants, stroking gently along his warm skin. It was wrong to be doing this while he was sleeping. But even as I chided myself for touching him where I definitely had no right to, heat pooled in my core.
A rumble from where my ear was pressed to Brody’s chest had my pulse kicking into high gear, worried he would wake. But he just shifted, let out a sigh, and subsided, his slow breaths reassuring me he was still asleep.
I was about to pull my hand back when something hot and hard bumped against my fingertips.
I froze.
Oh god.Even though he was asleep, my touch must have made him hard, and now his erection was pushing against my fingers.
So wrong, Skye. This is so wrong.
And yet, I didn’t move. I could tell myself that I didn’t want to wake him by yanking my hand away, but I knew the truth. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to hold him in my hand and feel him harden fully. How would he react if I stroked him awake? If I pressed my lips to his skin. If I pushed his pants down and straddled him, ran the head of his hard cock through my now wet core and sank down onto him.
I clenched my eyes shut and pressed my thighs together. What was I doing? What was I thinking? I’d told Brody off for kissing me, and here I was, imagining having sex with him while I practically groped him as he slept.
I was such a damn hypocrite.
Gently pulling away, I shifted until I was no longer pressed against him. After easing the blankets off me, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, turning to make sure Brody was still asleep.
He was, so I allowed myself a few seconds to drink him in.
I hadn’t been lying last night when I admitted I found him attractive. I knew how gorgeous he was. But it struck me again as I watched him now.
The long lashes brushing sharply angled cheekbones, the masculine curve of his mouth, the strong column of his neck and broad expanse of his shoulders, the sculpted chest and the hills and valleys of his six-pack all came together in one incredibly sexy package.
I turned and made my way quickly to the bathroom, shutting the door and leaning against it. A breath shuddered out of me. Did I want to be more than friends with Brody? Did I want to sleep with him?
I couldn’t deny it to myself any longer. I wanted my best friend. The thought of kissing him, of running my hands all over his hard body, of having him fuck me, had my stomach twisting up with a need I had never experienced before. I slipped my hand under the waistband of Brody’s sweats and my panties, into my slick heat. God, I was so wet just from thinking about it.
About him.
Maybe I just needed to get myself off? I’d been on edge since last night—since he’d kissed me, really. Maybe I needed to relieve some tension so I could think clearly again. My finger circled my swollen clit, sending little shock waves of pleasure prickling over my skin. I wondered what sort of lover Brody would be. I got the feeling there were hidden depths to him that only came out in the bedroom. As easygoing and charming as he was with me and his other friends, now and then, I got a flash of something else. Something a little more rough and raw.
Imagining Brody pinning me down and thrusting into me while he whispered dark, urgent, dirty words into my ear had me whimpering with need as my finger moved faster.
My head dropped back against the door, and I moaned softly as I dipped my fingers lower.
A second later, I jumped and whipped my hand out of my panties when Brody’s voice came from the other side of the door.
“You in there, Skye?” His voice was gravelly with sleep, and I prayed he’d just rolled out of bed and hadn’t heard me moaning.
“Yes, just finishing up!” It came out too high and squeaky.
I rushed to the toilet and used it quickly, then washed my hands and swung the door to the bathroom open, giving Brody a bright, fake smile. “All yours!”
He was leaning against the opposite wall, still shirtless, and I had to force my eyes not to drop down his body.
Apparently, he caught my fake cheeriness because his brows furled together.
“Everything all right?” he asked, the huskiness of his voice throwing me back into my fantasy of him talking dirty as he thrust into me.
“Yep, everything’s fine. I’ll just…” I gestured vaguely in the direction of the kitchen, my brain grinding to a halt as he stepped closer to look down and study my face. “Coffee,” I blurted as I backed away, then walked swiftly to the kitchen.
I got the coffee machine going, then leaned against the countertop, staring out the window opposite me at the still-falling snow.
Damn Brody for making me feel this way. If he’d never kissed me, if he’d never said those things to me, I wouldn’t be so damn confused right now.
Because the thought of being with Brody was becoming far too appealing. I imagined us being up here together as a couple, stuck in the storm with hours and hours to explore each other, to cook together and laugh, watch movies and play games.
It would be good. How could it not? We enjoyed spending time together, and we got on ridiculously well. For at least a little while, we’d be spectacular. We’d soar. I could feel it. But soaring meant we’d have even farther to fall when our wings eventually failed.
And then what would be left? The charred, smoking corpse of an amazing friendship. A friendship that was as essential to me as breathing.
I sighed and finished making the coffee, pouring a cup for both of us.
Footsteps sounded behind me, and I picked up Brody’s coffee and turned to hand it to him, only to almost spill it down the front of myself as I took him in.
He’d finished his shower, but he hadn’t gotten dressed. All he wore was a white towel cinched low around his hips. His hair was damp, and a few beads of water ran down his broad chest.
I’d seen Brody wet and shirtless before. But there was something incredibly different between seeing a friend in swim shorts and ogling a half-naked man I’d just been touching myself over.
My throat was dry as I found myself following the trail of one particular drop of water that trickled over his abs, heading toward the towel. I flashed back to being in bed with him this morning with his hard dick pressing against my fingers.
Brody came closer, and my eyes darted nervously up to his. His gaze was intense as it swept over my face, like maybe he could read my expression. Like he could tell what I’d been doing in the bathroom before he interrupted me.
By the time he stopped in front of me, my heart was pounding in my chest. I licked my suddenly dry lips, and his gaze dropped to my mouth. The gray of his eyes darkened, sending a pulse of need through me. Was he going to kiss me again? Did I want him to?
He reached out, and I waited with bated breath for him to tug me toward him, already knowing I would go a little too willingly.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he murmured.
I blinked and looked down to see his fingers curving around the mug I’d forgotten I was holding.
Releasing a ragged breath, I closed my eyes for a moment as I tried to prevent the blush heating my cheeks. There was no way he could know what I was thinking. I just needed to act normal.
I released the mug into his waiting hand. “No problem.” Yeah, my voice didn’t sound even a little normal. “Why didn’t you get dressed? Aren’t you cold?” I asked, to deflect from how flustered I was.
He grinned, as if he knew what he was doing to me. And he probably did, the bastard. He already knew I’d responded more enthusiastically to his kiss than I should, considering how hard I’d been denying everything.
“Needed some caffeine.” His voice, still gravelly, sent what were hopefully invisible goosebumps up and down my arms.
“Took me a while to wake up this morning,” he continued. “It was nice and warm lying there in bed, and I was having a very, very nice dream.” His voice deepened. “At least, I think it was a dream. What do you think, Skye? Was I dreaming?”
I swallowed hard. Brody’s lips were curled up at the corners, and my pulse jack hammered in my throat. Oh my god, had he been awake when I’d touched him?
This time, there was no stopping the furious blush that burned up my chest and into my cheeks. What should I do? Pretend I didn’t know what he was talking about? Admit what I’d done?
“Brody…” I started, unsure how to explain my behavior.
Brody put his coffee mug down on the countertop. Then he slid his fingers into my hair, curving them around the back of my head and tightening just enough to send pricks across my scalp. Every single one of my nerve endings sparked to life.
I pressed both of my palms against the hard planes of his bare chest as he leaned forward, brushing his nose along my jaw until his lips were at my ear. “Let me make this clear, Skye. You can touch me whenever—and however—you want.”
My eyes had drifted shut, and I was quivering where I stood, held in place by his hand and the bulk of his body in front of me.
He pulled back and tugged on my hair. My eyes sprang open as he forced me to look up at him. “I’ve made it clear what I want,” he said. “You. All of you. But you need to decide if that’s what you want too. I won’t force it on you.”
Oh god, what did it say about me that the thought of him forcing me to submit sent a bolt of lust straight to my core?
Brody used his other hand to grab one of mine where it rested against his chest. He slid it down the ridged muscles of his abdomen until my fingertips brushed the low-hung towel.
“If you want this to happen, Skye,” his voice was so dark and raspy now, it was almost a growl, “it’s up to you to make the next move.”
Externally, I was frozen, fixated on him like a rabbit staring into the jaws of a wolf. But inside, my heart was thrashing against my ribs, and a whole kaleidoscope of butterflies was swirling in my stomach.
My body was screaming at my brain to move my hand—to tug the towel loose. There was no denying how much I wanted him. Over the last few days, I’d discovered a whole new side of Brody, and I wanted more. I wanted to know what it would be like to have him unleash himself on me. He’d always been my best friend, the person I relied on to be there when I needed him, to cheer me up when I was down, to make me laugh. But right now, he wasn’t my friend; he was a man. A very desirable man. One who had me feeling things I’d never felt before.
But as turned on as I was in that moment. As much as I wanted to take him in my hand, my mouth, my body, and let him show me exactly what else he could make me feel, the specter of losing him hovered ominously in the back of my head. My life wouldn’t make sense without him in it. What if we took this step and I didn’t live up to his expectations? What if we didn’t work out? What if I fell so in love with him that his loss—the loss of one more person I loved—tore me to pieces?
The thought sent a chill through me, dampening my arousal. His gaze searched mine, and something flickered over his face. His hand loosened in my hair.
“I won’t bring this up again, Skye. What happens next is up to you. Understand?”
I sucked in a shaky breath, then nodded.
But instead of letting me go, he leaned forward again, his lips hovering above mine. “I hope you take the risk, Skye. Because I’ve spent far too long imagining how sweet you’ll taste when I make you come on my tongue. I’m dying to find out if the reality is even better than the fantasy.”
I must have whimpered in response because satisfaction flashed in his eyes. His lips brushed so lightly across mine I almost thought I’d imagined it. Then he let me go, picked his coffee mug up, and turned away.
“Thanks for the coffee, sweetheart. I’ll get dressed.” He strolled off, as if nothing at all had happened.
I sagged back against the countertop, my lips and nipples tingling, blood pumping through my veins, and my heart racing.
What the hell had just happened?