Chapter 9 Will
Whatever Helps You Sleep At Night
With my chest heaving against his, I freeze on the spot. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”
“You heard me.”
“No, I don’t think I did. Because if you said what I think you just said, we’ve got a problem.”
He nods his head once. “Believe me, we’ve got plenty of problems. Your denial being at the forefront of them.”
“I don’t want you,” I grit out, clenching my jaw.
“Say it again. Maybe I’ll believe the lie this time.”
“I don’t. Fucking. Want you.”
Brooks lets out a low chuckle. “See, here’s the thing.
I might believe that had I not caught on to the way you look at me—the way you’ve been watching me for weeks now.
” He pauses, his chest heaving against mine.
“You wanna know why I know that? Because I’ve been watching you too.
Obsessively. You’re constantly on my radar—my newest compulsion, my sole fixation.
And when I’m not physically around you, I can’t get you outta my fuckin’ head,” Brooks rasps, pounding his finger against his temple.
He somehow manages to step impossibly closer, moving to murmur in my ear.
“The other night—the one you’re so keen on forgetting—plays like a reel over and over again in my mind.
Just thinking about it gets my dick hard.
But it has nothing to do with sharing. Nothing to do with the woman who was between us.
I’m sure I don’t have to spell it out for you, but because you’re in such denial, I will .
. . the moment your eyes connected with mine while I watched you fall apart, I realized my attraction to you was mutual. ”
Brooks pulls back just barely, only enough to stare at my lips. Unable to fight this pull, my gaze drops to his lips too, and when he realizes, he hisses in approval.
The way his chest heaves against mine, causing the fabric of our shirts to rub together, has my control hanging by a thread. I grip his shirt and shove him away only to pull him right back in.
“Sure feels like you want me, Sin.” To make his point, he presses his hips against mine, and it’s only then I realize what he’s referring to. My length throbs achingly between us, making the truth in his statement apparent.
“You’re bleeding,” he points out, cupping my face in his hands. Brooks parts my mouth and swipes his calloused thumb across my swollen, bloodied bottom lip.
“Thanks for stating the obvious,” I murmur, all of sudden feeling breathless.
“I must be rubbing off on you; you almost sounded like me for a second,” he tosses back.
With his eyes locked on mine, he licks his lips, and something about that small gesture has me throwing my inhibitions to the wind.
“Shut up,” I tell him in a deep-chested growl, pulling him to me and slamming our lips together.
In a battle for dominance, our lips open and our tongues move together in perfect synchrony. Brooks whimpers at the first swipe of his tongue, though I can’t be sure if it’s from the taste of my blood or what we’re doing, which is full-on making out.
He grabs my hair and tugs tightly, causing me to groan against his lips as he grinds his hips against mine. His belt buckle presses into my lower stomach, and that in combination with his hard length rubbing against my own thickening cock has me spiraling.
I find myself wondering what it’d be like to unbuckle his belt and slip my hand beneath the waistband of his jeans. He’s so hard, so fucking ready for me.
A noise from across the alleyway breaks the spell he was putting me under, and I push him away, my chest heaving as I struggle to say, “I’m not fucking gay.”
With my fingers still fisted in his shirt, it’s as if I can’t push him away, my hands refusing to let him go.
Brooks shrugs; he’d look unaffected if it wasn’t for his heavy breathing filling the alleyway. “So? Me neither.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Well, you’ve been with men before, and that’s just not me. I’m straight.”
Brooks shakes his head and lets out a low, maniacal chuckle. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Pretty Boy. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”