Chapter 8
EIGHT
brODY
All my doubts and fears come creeping back, and I swallow, hard.
“You’re sure about this?” I ask.
Cari’s eyes flash fire. “If you don’t fuck me—”
I cut off her tirade with a kiss, and she melts beneath me. Her hand snakes between us to position me at her entrance, and with a slow, sure thrust of my hips, I seal us together.
Ooooh holy hell. Fucking fuck.
She’s so tight, so wet, her snug heat caressing me like a glove. I can hardly breathe, hardly think, hardly move for fear this will end all too soon.
I might be in trouble here.
Her fingers comb through my hair, then tug, pulling my head back sharply. “Brody, I swear to fuck—”
“I want to make this good for you.”
For us.
“You are. You have. But if you don’t start moving, I’m going to literally die.” Her voice cracks. “Do you want that? Do you want me to die?”
I cover her mouth with my hand. “No dying during sex, please.”
She giggles beneath my palm.
The distraction allows me to relax a little. Sex should be fun. It should be easy. If I come too soon—although I sincerely hope not—I can still take care of her.
Cari arches her back, and that’s what I need to spur me into action. I lift up and roll my hips, driving into her.
Her shaky sigh is music to my ears. “Do that again.”
Well, if the lady demands…
I do it again, and again, and again, watching her face. She’s blissed out, her eyes closed, head tipped back. The ecstasy on her face makes me want to take a picture, to memorize this moment for the rest of my life.
For so many years, she’s been tantalizingly out of reach. My best friend’s little sister. He’d kill me if he found out that the innocent flirting we’ve been doing for years was really my chickenshit way of avoiding anything real.
If I kept her at a distance, she’d never know how much I wanted her. How intense my feelings were.
So I’ve kept things light and innocent. Every time she took a step forward, I backed down. Every time things got a little too real.
Because she’s worth torpedoing my relationship with my best friend. Yeah, he’s been my ride or die for fifteen years. But she’s her.
Beautiful, feisty, competitive, down-to-earth Cari. A rugby superstar with muscles for days. Hot as hell, and she knows it, too.
But she’s not conceited. Confident, yes. Arrogant, no.
And the way her tight cunt grips me, her hands clutching at my shoulders, I’m so painfully turned on I want to live inside this moment forever. It won’t take much for me to fall for her. For me to lose myself in her.
No, that’s not true.
I’m already gone.
But she’s not there yet. So I snake my hand between our bodies, searching for her clit.
And when she gasps, her nails digging into my skin, I increase the pressure of my thumb.
“Brody,” she breathes.
My name has never sounded so good as it does on her lips. I want to hear it again. I need to hear it again.
Dipping my head, I kiss her, swallowing her soft exhalations. Her hips move against mine, grinding, seeking.
Reluctantly, I break the kiss and lean up on my elbow. I piston in and out of her slick, perfect cunt as I circle her clit with my thumb.
I thought I knew what perfect was. But I was wrong.
Because when she comes, her pussy pulsing around me, my name on her lips, I know I’ve seen it. Felt it. Deep in my soul, I’ve never experienced something as exquisite as this.
She scrambles for me, pulling me down on top of her.
All it takes is a few more thrusts, and encircled in her arms, I shudder through my orgasm. It takes everything in me to hold myself up and not collapse on top of her, but when she tugs and pulls me even closer, I let myself fall.
I’m drowning in her. I’m drowning, and I don’t want to stop.
Eventually, when my soul finally feels like it’s back in my body, I pull out. But I don’t go far. I settle on my side and tug her toward me, my fingertips drawing featherlight circles on her hip.
Her hand finds my chest, settling over my heart. Can she feel the way it beats solely for her? Does she know I would rather die than hurt her?
Cari reaches for me, and I meet her halfway, our lips colliding in a tangle of tongues and teeth. It’s no less hungry for being sated. I still have this need for her deep inside me, desperate for release.
I don’t think it will ever go away. I don’t ever want it to go away.
“Be right back,” I murmur against her lips, before I force myself out of bed. If I don’t do this now, I’m liable to pass out, and that’s not good.
In a few quick minutes, I’ve disposed of the condom and cleaned up, and then I wet a washcloth in the hot water. I return to her side and carefully clean between her legs.
An inscrutable expression is on her face. I want to ask what’s going through her head, but I chicken out.
Just like I always do.
Discarding the washcloth, I crawl back into bed. Cari wastes no time in drawing my arms around her, putting her back to my front. All of her delicious skin is pressed to mine, and I have to revise my earlier thoughts.
I through I knew what perfect was.
But this is it. This, right here. Holding her in my arms as she drifts off to sleep. Holding her and knowing I’ll never be so lucky as to have this again.
And as I drift off to sleep, it’s with a smile on my face.
For one perfect night, I get to have this. I get to have her. And I’ll never forget it.