21 - Lauren #2
“No,” he replied, his voice sounding measured, too calm.
He was restraining himself. “No, he didn’t say anything.
He’d never do that. But I saw it immediately.
The way he started walking different since that night.
The way his eyes lit up whenever he saw you.
That’s not the look of a man who just has a crush on a beautiful woman, it was the look of a man who got to experience her.
A man who was let into a new world and kept the secret of it close to his chest. Only it wasn’t just his secret, was it? ”
A bitter, potent shot of guilt was injected into the chaos of pleasure Brock was wringing out of me. I pulled back a little, my head pressing against the door, my heart thudding against my ribs.
“Merrick is even less subtle. He acts like a dog that pissed on a fire hydrant,” Brock added.
If Rafe was a dog, I was a deer in the headlights. So he did know.
I should’ve figured. There was no way someone as attentive and work-focused as Brock wouldn’t have picked up on the change in vibes on his site.
I swallowed down the shame that might’ve expressed itself as an apology if I was the type to let myself be shamed.
Brock sounded angry, in that terrifying quiet way unique to him.
But he still kept his leg between my thighs.
His hands were still on my waist, his eyes still heavy-lidded despite his focus.
And oh, he was focused on me, alright.
“You think I’m a slut, don’t you?” I asked plainly. He huffed a laugh but I dug my nails into his shoulders. “You’re judging me for having sex with them, aren’t you?”
“No.” The single word sounded broken, like it was forced through his throat and had barely made it out intact.
He bowed until his forehead was touching mine, his hands tightening on my waist. “No. I don’t and I’m not.
I can’t blame them. Not when you have me this badly sprung.
God, Lauren, do you know how hard you’ve made it for me to just concentrate on the job? ”
He rocked into me again and I let out a sound that was half gasp and half moan. He hissed, dragging his nose along my jawline.
“I don’t get distracted. Not like this. But then you happened and wouldn’t stop pushing and now look at me,” he said almost urgently.
“This is you being distracted?” I asked incredulously, trying and failing to perform my usual sarcasm. “Still being in control?”
“This is me out of control,” he said.
Slowly, like he was cornering a wild animal, he moved his head until we were face to face again. And I saw it then. The raw vulnerability in his eyes, the subtle rapid rise and fall of his chest as he tried to steady his breathing.
I ran a hand from his neck to the side of his face. Even now he didn’t let himself relax into my touch. As understanding began to dawn in my mind, I closed the gap between our mouths and kissed him again. Slower this time, more intentionally.
If I couldn’t reach him with words, I’d respond with action. And if I wanted him to let go, I might just have to let myself fall apart first. So I began to ride.
When he realized what I was doing, I felt more than heard the growl deep in his chest. He helped me move on his thigh, flexing the muscle beneath until I was practically panting in his mouth.
I hated to admit it but he was right. A steady thrum of pleasure coursed through my entire body, lighting me up from the inside and Brock’s hands seemed to chase it, moving from my hips to my back and back down again.
“That’s it,” he murmured, helping me keep my pace as my moans grew higher and more desperate. “You’re almost there.”
I had no idea how he could be so certain but the stars aligned and my body tensed as my first orgasm of the night washed over me.
I wrapped my legs around him, tugging his hair hard as I spasmed in his arms, breathing like I’d just ran a marathon.
He breathed with me, kissing my neck once and then pulling back to assess his work.
“Finally,” he said, sounding awed. “I finally get to see what you look like.”
Was that an actual smile on his face? My racing heart stumbled.
“Your turn,” I said, almost begging for it.
I looked at him the same way I’d looked at him when I asked him onto the roof for drinks.
And just like then, he couldn’t resist. He set me down and I immediately sank to my knees, my hands resting on his hips.
I kissed his abs, trailing down and following the trail until I reached my destination.
Brock’s breathing had grown more jagged since the request but now I could barely hear anything. I ran a hand up his torso and he held it there, his head lolling back as I dragged my tongue up his fully-hard cock.
“You’re dripping for me,” I sighed, running my tongue over the slit and he groaned, his throat bobbing.
He wrapped a shaky hand in my hair and I grabbed onto his hips.
I couldn’t tease him. Not like this, not when I was slowly watching his exterior crumble right in front of my eyes and goddamn, I’d never felt luckier.
“You taste so perfect,” I said, sucking the head into my mouth. I looked up at him through my eyelashes and the sight of his heaving chest and trembling hand on mine almost made me come again right there. Instead, I began to work his cock in my mouth.
Brock might have decades of foreman experience that played into his skills but I was a fast learner.
I picked up quickly which ways my tongue had him fighting against himself not to squirm.
He tried to buck me off when his climax approached but I didn’t listen, instead doubling down and I could practically hear a symphony chorus when he groaned out my name.
“Wait,” he breathed, gently pushing me off as I tried to clean him up. “I’ve never…I don’t usually…”
“Come that fast?” I asked, still enjoying the salty taste of his broken resolve. I smirked, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. But then I stopped cold, any further remarks dying in my throat.
Brock was staring at me with near-panic scrawled on his features. He looked so different to his usual stone-faced self that for a moment, I didn’t recognize him.
“Hey, it’s really not a big deal,” I said, trying to sound light. With Rafe, it was easy to lob barbs back and forth as a type of foreplay, really. But I should’ve known better than to do that with Brock. “I was just kidding, it’s not—”
I squealed as he hoisted me straight up from the floor into his arms, forcing me to wrap my legs around him. The panic and slight embarrassment he wore earlier had melted into pure desire. He nipped my jaw, then nuzzled into my neck.
“I never finish that quickly,” he confessed. “But you…fuck, you make me do things I don’t usually do. You make me feel things I don’t usually feel and I didn’t know what to do with that for the longest time.”
His mouth moved lower and I arched into it, gripping the back of his head. Heat seared every nerve-ending as his tongue and teeth explored my chest, so thorough in their discovery that he left no inch of skin untouched.
“You said,” I gasped, pulling him closer. “You said that you couldn’t blame the others. Could you blame me?”
He cursed under his breath, reluctantly moving away from my breasts. He dragged his eyes up to my face, and for the first time in all the time I’ve known Brock Lawson, they looked completely unfocused.
“Lauren, baby. I don’t blame you. You go for what you want…it’s one of the things I fucking love about you.”
Tears pricked the back of my eyes. I thought back to our moment on the rooftop, how he’d pushed back even when I knew he didn’t want to. And now here he was, not just giving into his own desire but fueling mine. Respecting mine.
For a man that followed the rules down to a T, I knew just how huge an admission like this was and it made me want him even more.
He leaned down and softly kissed each of my cheeks, his tongue trailing out as though catching my tears.
It was such an intimate gesture and yet somehow still fully Brock.
Then he did something that I truly wasn’t expecting.
I’d watched Brock handle heavy pieces of machinery and ceramic blocks without breaking a sweat. I’d marveled as he carried 400-pound timber beams with relative ease while the average man wouldn’t have been able to so much as move them. I was well aware of how much strength his body held.
But I was still surprised when he practically tossed me up like I weighed nothing and buried his face in between my legs as they wrapped around his neck. His huge hands gripped my ass, supporting me but also keeping me trapped with his eager mouth feasting on my pussy.
I threw my head back and whined, holding onto his head as he started walking us into the bay.
There was no way he could see anything, and I was wondering how he could even breathe.
But Brock had the entire floorplan memorized and knew exactly where to go without even bumping into any of the scattered furniture or construction tools.
He groaned, the sound sending vibrations through my body and I cried out, reflexively tugging on his hair.
He laid me down on his makeshift workbench, the same one I’d seen him bent over examining the blueprints a thousand times since the start of the project.
It wasn’t the most sturdy but somehow I knew that even if it gave way beneath me, he wouldn’t let me fall.
His hands were firm on my ass.
I could barely catch my breath.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I hissed as my hips rolled up of their own accord and my head flopped back.
“Look at me.” Brock sounded almost like the version of himself that showed up everyday and ran the site with an iron-fist, but still not quite the same. The authority was there but I had never heard him sound this intense.
It was too much.