Dutton #2
Words become lodged in my throat. I drink her in slowly: long, lean legs crossed at the ankle, bare feet.
Her thighs are peeking out from the hem of my shirt.
She’s not wrong—it’s big on her, but the way it hangs off one shoulder, exposing her skin, and her black underwear visible through the thin fabric makes me suck in a breath.
Fuck.
I like the look of her in my shirt.
No.
I love it.
“Say something,” she says and then moves toward me.
With my hands still on the button of my pants, I feel my cock grow harder with each step she takes toward me.
“You look …” I clear my throat. “Comfortable.”
Smooth, Dutton, real smooth.
This isn’t the first time I’ve seen her, been near her while she’s one piece of the clothing from being naked, but this time, we are both dead sober.
And this time, we know how it could be between us. How it could feel.
I want to tell her she looks fucking phenomenal in my clothes while I stalk toward her, pulling her into my arms to hold her close and breathe her in and press my lips to her neck, praying she lets me kiss every inch of her body, finally getting to know what her lips feel like pressed to my own.
But some jackass just showed up in our town, thinking he had the right to violate her space, all because they shared a few chats online.
I’m not about to be guy number two who makes that decision based on the fact that she’s wearing nothing but my T-shirt and about to crawl into a bed with me.
“I am,” she says, and her smile showcases her lower right dimple, making my heart swell.
Then she lifts my shirt, smelling the collar right in front of me.
I watch her for a split moment, but my gaze drifts to where the shirt rises on her thighs, a mere inch away from revealing the gap where her underwear starts and…
Fuck. I have got to get a hold of myself.
One of us needs to talk, and it needs to happen now.
“Did you just sniff my shirt?” I ask.
A bubble of laughter comes from the stunning woman across from me, and it’s beautiful.
“I did. I ugh … wow, I did that right in front of you, didn’t I?”
I chuckle.
“You did.”
“Is that weird?”
“No, but now I’m second-guessing my choice of laundry soap and hoping I picked a good one.”
She laughs again, and I make it my mission right then and there to make her laugh as much as I can tonight. Anything to ease the stress that asshole caused her.
“Oh, it’s good. Trust me. I like the way you smell. Wow, okay. I’m going to stop talking and just get in bed.”
She does just that, curling onto her side to face me.
She smiles and then closes her eyes.
“Do you fall asleep that fast?” I ask.
“No, but I figured you were still standing there with your pants undone and not doing anything about it because I was looking at you.”
“Oh.”
I glance down at myself and roll my eyes at how obvious my dick is being right now.
“I’m just going to dip into the bathroom and brush my teeth.”
I quickly move about the room, do what I need to in the bathroom, and then drop my pants to the floor before joining Brooke in the bedroom. She’s turned the lights out, so I crawl into bed with her.
We aren’t touching, and it’s so dark in here that I’m not sure if she’s still facing me or not. Is she asleep? Almost asleep? Does she want to talk?
“Dutton?”
“Yeah?” The eagerness in my voice is clear.
“Can you …will you hold me?”
Without a second thought, I reach for her.
As if my hand has done this many times before, I curl my fingers around her hips and drag her across the bed.
She settles in perfectly with my body, her back to my chest, her head resting on my arm as her pillow, and her ass, her perfectly round ass, nestles against my groin as if it were made to be there.
As if her body was made solely to fit with mine.
I curve my hand around her stomach, reach up and lace her fingers with mine.
I’ve got you.
I’m never letting go.
And I don’t want to.
Which is a problem, because this woman rewires my brain.
She makes me think of things I’ve never thought of before.
And maybe those aren’t actual problems, but the fact that she doesn’t date because she’s afraid they will leave is one.
The fact that her father, the only family member she still has, hates me is the second.
I don’t know what to say, so I remain quiet and close my eyes.
I’m not the snuggling type, but I’d stay in this position for days, weeks, months if she asked me to.
Just when I think she’s fallen asleep, she scoots her ass closer to me.
The hand holding hers jerks instantly to still her hips.
My breathing increases, and my cock twitches.
I sure as hell hope she’s sleeping, because one small movement like that shouldn't leave me ready to devour her.
She rubs her ass against me again.
All right, that one was intentional.
I loosen my grip on her hip and let my hand fall to her lower belly.
Neither of us says a word.
If she makes another move, I'll make mine.
This time, she runs her hand down my arm until her fingers meet mine, then she starts to bunch up the shirt in the front, and I groan when my fingertips meet her bare soft skin.
She removes her hand, letting it hover over our legs, and I know she’s waiting for me to make the next move.
It’s not a secret that the two of us are into each other, but doing something about it again would absolutely change everything between us.
And if she’s willing to cross that line, there’s no way in hell I'm going to stop her.
I brush my fingers across her lower belly, skimming her panty line
She sucks in a breath.
I let a finger dip just under the thin fabric; her ass presses into mine once again.
I pull my hand free of hers, lay it flat to her stomach to keep her in place, and pull her into me just enough to let her know that she’s not going anywhere.
“If you keep moving your hips like that, you’re going to make me lose control.”
I bury my nose into her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin.
She moans, and I officially have a new noise that I love.