12. Skye
My eyes blinked open, and a strange sense of déjà vu swept over me. I was curled into a warm, solid body, my head on his chest and my hand on his stomach.
The position might have been the same as yesterday, but everything else was different. I was naked, my body filled with a kind of sweet ache I hadn’t felt before. When I slid my hand down this time, there was no waistband obstructing my path. Brody was naked too.
My nerve endings lit up at the memories that flooded through me, and I sucked in a breath. Oh god, that had actually happened. I’d slept with Brody—had sex with Brody—for hours last night.
And it had been unbelievable. I hadn’t even known I was capable of responding that way. That it had been Brody who’d pulled those sensations from me was both amazing and terrifying. Because if things between us went wrong, not only would I lose my best friend, but I’d lose the one man who had made my body come to life.
I forced that worry away. What I was feeling was so heart-poundingly intense that I just wanted to revel in it. While we were here in this cabin, reality didn’t have to intrude. It could be just us.
Just this.
Like yesterday, I inched my hand down Brody’s stomach, my fingers brushing his growing hardness. I took a deep breath and curled my fingers around him. The hot, heavy length of him had my mouth growing dry and a throb starting deep in my core.
God, I wanted him. All of him. I knew what he meant now—the overwhelming desire to have all of someone.
I gave a tentative stroke, and Brody let out a groan, but he didn’t open his eyes. I kept going, reveling in the knowledge that it was him I was touching.
Without warning, his hand came up and wrapped around mine where I was holding him. I gasped at his sudden movement. He used his hold on me to work his cock harder, and I looked up again, expecting to meet his eyes, but they were still closed.
“Do you know how many times I’ve dreamed of this?” His voice was a husky rasp. “I don’t want to open my eyes in case you disappear, and it turns out I’m just fucking my own hand and wanting you again.”
My chest ached. How had I been so blind? Why hadn’t we been doing this for years?
Because if we had, we might have imploded by now. We might not even be friends anymore.
I shoved that horrible thought aside and focused on committing his every reaction to memory.
“I’m here,” I said, squeezing my fingers around him hard enough to elicit a hiss. Then I did something I’d been thinking about since yesterday.
I sat up and leaned over him so I could take the head of his erection between my lips.
“Fuck, Skye.”
I looked at him through my lashes. His eyes were open now, dark and heated as he watched me take more of him in.
“Better than any fucking dream,” he murmured, and my heart swelled and pounded in my chest.
He sank his fingers into my hair. “Keep doing that and I won’t last long.”
Good. I wanted him this way. I wanted every part of him. I wanted to claim him as mine.
I ran my tongue around him, then used my hand at the base of his shaft to stroke in time with my mouth. Brody’s breaths were coming faster, his hand in my hair tightening. Willingly submitting to the pressure, I took more of him in my mouth, sinking deeper.
A growl ripped from his throat. “You’re so fucking perfect, Skye. Seeing you like this, your lips wrapped around me, mouth full of my cock. It’s like every wet dream I’ve ever had come to life.”
I hummed around him, arousal hot and lapping over my skin, pooling in my sex.
“I’m going to come soon, sweetheart. And you’re going to swallow every last drop for me, aren’t you?”
I gave him my eyes, letting him see the need in them as I whimpered in response. This dirty talking Brody was beyond my wildest dreams. I had never in my life felt so needy, so damn combustible.
“Good girl,” he said, his gaze burning into me.
I pressed my thighs together, sending a rush of sparks sizzling out from my core. Could I orgasm just from his cock in my mouth and his dirty words in my ears?
He swelled against my tongue then. He was close. I hollowed my cheeks and sucked harder, sank down deeper.
“That’s it. You’re going to make me come with that beautiful mouth of yours, and then I’m going to flip you over, spread your thighs and sink my tongue into your pussy. When you’ve come all over my face, I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll never want to be with another man again.”
I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut, scared he might read too much of my reaction to his words if he could see them. But I needed to watch him topple over the edge, so I kept my gaze fixed on his as I slid my mouth down as far as I could.
He parted his lips on a low, guttural groan, and then he was coming. His shaft pulsed as hot jets filled my mouth. I stoked him through his orgasm, making sure I had all of him. Every drop, just like he’d asked.
Brody’s breaths were labored by the time I pulled off him. I maintained eye contact as I swallowed, then licked my lips, and he swore harshly. But true to his word, before I even had a second to revel in what I’d done to him, his hands were under my arms, and he was flipping me onto my back and settling his big body between my thighs.
He used his thumbs to spread me, making me squirm, but I was too aroused, too needy for what he could give me, to be embarrassed.
“My girl has such a pretty pussy. So pink and wet and ready for me,” he murmured before using the flat of his tongue to lick me. I loved how he was speaking to me. But more than that, I loved hearing him call me his girl. Because while he’d said it before, I’d never taken it seriously. But now the truth of it hit me. His girl. I was his girl. And I had been for as long as I could remember. I just hadn’t realized it.
He slid his tongue over and around my clit as he sank one finger into me. I wriggled, already so close I wanted more. Reading my reaction, he added a second finger, the feeling of fulness making my legs shake.
He raised his head, his hot, hungry gaze searing into me. “Did blowing me turn you on, Skye? Do you crave me the way I crave you?”
I moaned, then whimpered in protest when he pulled his fingers out.
“If you want to come, I need to hear you say it. I’ve waited too long not to hear how much you want it. How much you want me.”
Oh god, how did I not know this was what Brody was like in bed? If I had, would I have ended up here sooner? “Yes,” I choked out. “Having you in my mouth turned me on so much I could barely breathe. I need you to touch me and taste me and make me come. Please, Brody. I need you.”
“You have me, always,” he growled.
I cried out as his fingers filled me again and he sucked my clit into his mouth, his tongue stroking it hard and fast in time with his thrusting fingers.
The sensation was too much. I grabbed at his hair and ground myself against his face, tension drawing so tight through my body I thought I might explode into a million pieces.
Brody curled his fingers just right, and I detonated, my hips bucking even as my thighs clenched around his head. As soon as I came back to earth, he was up and over me, his lips finding mine so I could taste my own desperate release.
He slid his cock through my slick folds before pressing into me. My breaths were ragged as he filled me inexorably, perfectly, impaling me on his thick shaft.
The stretching of my muscles around him so soon after the orgasm he’d just given me sent my nerve endings crackling and sparking again. And when he bottomed out, I wrapped my arms and legs around him, desperate to get as close as physically possible. I wanted to hold on to him, to this moment, for as long as I could.
I fought off the fear that tried to grip me; the sudden vivid imagery that he might disappear from my arms—disappear from my life. Just like my mom and dad before him.
That’s not going to happen.
I forced myself to stop thinking about it. To relax into this feeling of being joined with him in the most intimate way.
Brody had braced himself over me, his forearms bracketing my head as he surged powerfully into my body. I ran my hands over his back, relishing the smooth movement of his muscles. My hips rose to meet his, and a moan spilled from my lips at how incredible he felt.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Skye.” His mouth claimed mine, and he drove into me harder and harder, pushing me closer and closer to the brink. He sat back, grabbed me under the ass, and tilted my hips, the angle allowing the head of his cock to hit me in a new spot. One which set my whole body on fire. My gasp had his lips curling up. His eyes were dark and smoky as he watched my reaction.
“Do you feel it?” he asked. “How perfect we are together? Your body was made for mine. Your pussy was made to take my cock. Tell me you feel it.”
“I feel it. It’s never been like this before. No one’s ever made me feel this good.”
His thumb found my clit and rolled over it in the perfect rhythm. He leaned over me and took my nipple in his mouth, the heat and suction sending a lance of pleasure directly to my core. I buried my hands in his thick hair as I reached my peak.
“Brody,” I panted. “I’m close… I’m so close…”
With one final long pull on my nipple, he sat back again. The fingers of one big hand pressed into my hip while he continued working my clit with his other.
“I’m going to watch you come on my cock, and then I’m going to fill you up again, sweetheart. Now, show me you belong to me—that you’ve always belonged to me.”
His words were the match that set the inferno blazing. Every muscle in my body seemed to seize at the same time. I pushed my head back into the pillow as my spine arched and pure ecstasy coursed through my veins. I couldn’t stop the cries that fell from my lips.
“So fucking gorgeous,” he rasped.
He’d slowed his strokes but kept up the rhythm of his thumb on my clit, dragging out my orgasm until I was a limp, shuddering mess. Only then did he speed back up again, bracing one hand on the mattress next to my head as he powered into me.
Three hard thrusts, and he let out a low, guttural groan as he buried himself to the hilt.
I stared up at him, my heart swelling. His eyes were hooded, his hair falling over his forehead, a smile of satisfaction curving those beautiful lips while his chest heaved from exertion.
I love him.
The thought hit me like a freight train.
I’d always loved him as a friend. But I was in love with him.
And maybe I had been for a very long time.
I opened my mouth to blurt it out, but the words caught in my throat. Because what if it wasn’t enough?
What if loving him wasn’t enough to keep him?
Brody stroked a hair off my face and pressed his lips to mine in a kiss so soft and sweet, tears pricked my eyes.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
I swallowed down my turbulent mix of emotions and tried for a lighthearted smile. “I’m thinking that was amazing. And also, I’m starving.”
I wiggled out from under him and climbed off the bed, not sure whether it was a flash of disappointment I saw on his face. But he said nothing, just followed me. I couldn’t help staring at him. The novelty of actually looking at Brody naked in all his impressive, masculine glory definitely hadn’t worn off.
He seemed to have the same issue, his gaze drinking me in. The heat blazing there made me squirm.
“If you’re hungry, you’d better put something on. Because if you keep standing there like that, I won’t be held responsible for what happens.”
I laughed but rushed to get dressed. Not because the thought didn’t appeal to me, but because I liked the idea a little too much.
After he’d pulled on some pants, I led the way out of the bedroom to the kitchen and rushed to the window. The snow had stopped, and the sky was clear and blue. “How long do you think until they’ll be up here with the snowplow?” I asked.
“I can put a call in to let them know we’re here and see what they say. But I imagine it will take them a few hours to make their way up here.” He put his hand on my shoulder and turned me to face him. “Are you that desperate to get away?”
“No. It’s not that. I have a commission due, and I just need to get back to the pottery to finish it.”
The line that formed between his brows told me he was unconvinced, but he let it slide. “I’m going to take a shower. Do you want to get the coffee going?”
I nodded, and with a quick kiss to my forehead, he sauntered down the hall to the bathroom.
I let out a breath. But before I had time to process my thoughts, Brody’s phone beeped. I picked it up to check it, because if it was someone from the station trying to get in touch, I wanted to let him know. And Brody had never had a problem with me looking at his phone because we had nothing to hide from each other.
Except, maybe we did.
I stared at the text.
Katie:I had a good time the other night. Give me a call if you want to do it again.
My heart free fell in my chest. Katie was the girl he’d slept with that had turned up at The Silver Lining twice now. What night was she thanking Brody for? Was it the night he’d kissed me, and I’d walked away from him? Had something happened between them after I left?
The thought shouldn’t have nausea twisting my stomach. We weren’t together then. I didn’t even know if we were together now. And I’d rejected him that night, so I had no right to be upset.
But I was.
After telling me he wanted me, even though I’d panicked and run, had he been with someone else?
I put his phone down and hugged myself, a chill slipping over my skin. It wasn’t even that I hated the thought of him being with Katie, although I did. No, what had panic swirling through me was that I was jealous. So damn jealous. It was like sharp claws tearing at my chest. Jealousy was insecurity, insecurity led to arguments, and arguments led to breaking up. Brody and I would fall apart, and what would be the chance of us still being friends after that?
None.
As amazing as these last couple of days had been, could I risk it? Love was lost so easily. Torn from us, often with no warning. Friendship was safer; less likely to go wrong. Being with Brody, loving Brody, that wasn’t safe. I could lose him. And I couldn’t take more loss.
Maybe if we stopped now, before emotions got involved—more involved—we could salvage this thing.
When Brody came back into the kitchen, fresh from the shower, he looked so incredibly sexy that my heart hurt. I let my eyes trace over his broad chest, his narrow hips, those long legs. Was I ever going to look at him and not remember touching him, being with him, loving him? Had I already ruined everything?
Maybe. But I couldn’t bring myself to regret what we’d done. I’d never in my life felt the way I had when I was in Brody’s arms.
I just had to make sure that when we walked out the door and re-entered our real lives, what had happened here ended.