Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“ Y es.”
The second the word left her lips, Brody covered her mouth with his. It wasn’t hesitant or gentle, but neither did he rush. He was as slow and intentional as he had been when he’d first kissed her. But the eagerness of his body was impossible to miss.
His arms banded around her, tight. He tasted like spices from the pizza and smelled of piney soap. It was a heady combination.
With her eyes closed, she was overwhelmed by his unique flavor and the way he held her—firmly, almost possessively. After feeling unwanted for months in her last relationship, possessive was working for her.
His tongue tangled with hers, stroking gently. He speared one hand up into her hair, sending shivers down both her arms. She groaned in the back of her throat when the roughness from his facial hair abraded her lips. One word pounded in her skull: Alive .
She felt alive in Brody’s arms. And tonight, she didn’t have to leave. Her bedroom was down the hall…if they made it that far.
He pulled his mouth from hers to suck in a breath, his eyelids heavy and his mouth half open. “Goddamn.”
He’d said that the first time he kissed her too.
“Sorry for not having any other words.”
“A speechless writer. I’ve seen it all.” She looped her arms around his neck and brushed her lips against his. “It’s okay. I don’t want to talk.”
Before he could argue—not that she expected him to—she kissed him again, spearing her tongue into his mouth. He rerouted his attention to her neck, his soft mustache tickling her sensitive skin. She dropped her head back, allowing him to explore her throat. As he licked and sucked, she shifted her hips back and forth to quell the pulsing between her legs.
“Yes,” she whispered when his hands bracketed her ribs, very, very close to her breasts. She was so desperate for him to touch her there she might explode if he didn’t.
At the V-neck of her shirt, he gave her cleavage a swipe with his tongue. Her eyes flew open to find his lust-filled and hazy. His hair was mangled thanks to her fingers being nestled in the strands. He truly looked good enough to eat.
“Reagan, Reagan.” He swept her hair away from her lips. “You have had a long week.”
Since that sounded like an excuse not to continue what they’d started, she blurted, “Do not try and talk me out of this, Brody Crane. I am completely in charge of my faculties. I know what I’m getting myself into.” She wasn’t sure if that last part was true, but she was willing to take the risk.
His grin was syrup slow. The steady throbbing in her center galloped along with her heartbeat. She’d bet he could do mind-boggling things with his mouth.
“Talk you out of what?”
“Do you want me to say it?”
He blew out a breath. “More than anything in the world.”
She couldn’t help laughing. “I’m assuming the kissing is leading somewhere. I thought you were going to take my bra off.”
His eyebrows rose. “Oh yeah, and then what?”
Ack! He was going to make her spell it out. “And then… You know. Deliver a few kisses to what you find under there.”
“Nothing sounds better than that.” He cast a glance to the ceiling. “Okay, maybe one thing.”
Her laugh caught in her throat when he rolled up the bottom of her shirt and exposed her belly. Her breaths quickened as she watched his golden eyes grow dark.
“Arms up,” he instructed. “And close your eyes.”
She did as she was told and didn’t put her arms down until her bra and shirt were off. The cooler air of the room dusted over her nipples, bringing them to stiff points. Brody didn’t go straight for her breasts but instead set a kiss on the side of her mouth. Then on the other side. Then on her neck. By the time he was tonguing the space between her bared breasts, her fingers were tangled in his hair.
“Something on your mind?” he mumbled against her skin.
She answered by steering his head to one breast. A keening moan escaped her when he opened his mouth and sucked her nipple. “Oh God, yes.”
Done teasing her, he licked and sucked one nipple while plucking the other into a turgid peak. His other hand was splayed flat against her back, holding her to his mouth and possibly keeping her anchored to the earth.
Why did this feel so good? As if no one had ever done it before. Had she forgotten, or had Brody’s mouth erased any past sexual experiences from her memory?
Her hips began moving on their own, the pounding between her thighs a desperate SOS. Had she ever ached so badly for someone? No. But she’d never needed someone inside her as badly as she needed Brody.
He pulled her hands from his hair and kissed each palm before pushing her to her back on the couch. He took the time to tuck the decorative pillow beneath her head and silently commanded her to stay still.
He returned to her breasts briefly. This time when she fisted the back of his head, he thumbed open the button on her jeans. He parted the denim and pressed a wet kiss to the top of one hipbone. “You okay?”
“Uh-huh,” she managed as she tilted her pelvis toward his face, which she assumed he took as an affirmative. There wasn’t a single protesting thought in her addled brain.
“You comfortable?” He drew a circle around her belly button with his tongue.
She nodded eagerly.
His smile was feral. “Okay, sweetheart. I won’t make you beg. I’m going to take you there.” He cupped her pussy with one open, firm palm, the pressure soothing and driving her wild at the same time. He rerouted to her mouth for a quick kiss before asking, “You want me to eat you out?”
A whimper exited her lips.
“Is that a yes, Reagan?”
“Yes. Yes, please.”
What happened next defied explanation. When his mouth covered her most sensitive part, all thought ceased. Her eyes rolled back into her head as he opened her thighs and laved her in earnest.
She was reduced to a mangle of bodily sensations. And the noises she was making—my God, she didn’t sound like herself. More like a desperate, pleading, naked woman who would give anything to orgasm at the hands of this man. She palmed the top of his head but there was no need to guide him. He dipped and weaved, bobbed, and dove in again, each strike to her clit like flint to stone.
She had no idea how much time had passed when she was suddenly overcome by a tidal wave of pleasure. Her legs shook, her eyes squeezed shut, and she went over in a series of shouts while her body twisted like a kite caught in a windstorm.
“Stop, stop, stop,” she begged anyway. She was sitting up, hands clinging to his head. She both did and didn’t want him to stop, but if he kept going, she might rip his hair out by the roots.
He finished her off with a single kiss and then sat up. She pressed her knees together when he wiped his hand over his mustache. She whimpered aloud when he licked his lips.
Brody Crane was sex on two legs. Able to make a woman forget her name and beg for more the moment she recovered. If she recovered… Reagan hadn’t expected an orgasm that powerful. He’d left her with ragdoll limbs and a spinning head. She was depleted in the best way imaginable.
He parted her knees and kissed the space between her breasts before lowering his hips to hers. “You taste good.”
“You have jeans on,” she said in response.
“A damn shame.” He kissed her nose, such an innocent thing to do after he’d laid waste to her. “You taste like the best dessert I’ve ever eaten.”
She hoped she was smiling, but there was no way to be sure. Her mouth muscles twitched, but the rest of her was a puddle of uselessness. She found the strength to whisper, “Take them off.”
He groaned. “I’m trying to be good.”
“Why?” She guessed it was her sincerity that made his throat bob with a chuckle.
“You’ve had a hell of a day. A hell of a week , I have recently learned. You didn’t have a bed to sleep on until I offered you mine.”
“That’s what I’m taking you up on.” She grinned.
“You agreed to live here five minutes ago. You’ve been through the emotional wringer. You haven’t unpacked yet. What kind of bastard would I be if I took you to bed tonight?”
“The best kind?”
His smile was patient.
She let out a sigh. Earlier in the day she’d made a pit stop at Ike’s house to gather her bags. They were currently leaning against the wall in Brody’s guest bedroom.
“I’ve given you a spectacular orgasm. I’m going to tuck you into bed, and then I’m going to install the TV. In the morning we’ll discuss my pants and whether they stay on or off.”
“Off,” she whispered against his mouth, trying to sway him. Apparently, his mind was made up. She could tell by the resolute bend of his eyebrows. “I can help with the TV.”
“I need something to do that takes one hundred percent of my attention off you and what I’m refusing to do to you.”
“So don’t refuse.” She fisted his shirt and tugged him closer, aware that her grip was weaker than she would have liked. He’d wiped her out with that, yes, spectacular , orgasm. She fought a yawn.
“Go to bed. Sail to sleep on a ship called Orgasm .” He kissed her mouth while she laughed at his ridiculous metaphor.
“ Writer .” Her accusation preceded a yawn. Her eyelids might as well have been weighed down with cement blocks. From behind those rapidly closing lids, she became aware of him gathering her clothes. Next, he encouraged her to stand and then led her to the back bedroom.
She sat on the bed with an inelegant whump . She hadn’t slept soundly in a week, and it was as if every one of those lost hours had caught up with her.
How inconvenient.
“If you weren’t so fucking cute, I’d take my pants off.”
“I can be less cute.” She made a weak grab for him.
“No, Reagan,” he argued as he tucked her naked body beneath the sheets and kissed her forehead. “You can’t.”
Normally, Reagan was an early riser. But being gifted the orgasm of a lifetime on a billionaire’s sofa had been far from normal .
She was still smiling when she rolled out of bed to visit the bathroom. It was directly across the hall from the guest bedroom with the master suite having its own bathroom, so she dressed in panties and her T-shirt without bothering to pull on pants.
Which reminded her of Brody’s pants and how they’d stayed on while he’d insisted on tucking her into bed. Halfway through brushing her teeth, she regarded her reflection and smiled around her toothbrush. Her eyes were bright and sparkling, she looked well rested and, if she wasn’t mistaken, her cheeks were glowing.
She rinsed and then patted her mouth with a towel before addressing her reflection. “Pull yourself together, girl.”
Then she bumped into Brody in the hallway, and her sensible lecture went straight out the window. A curl of steam from the mug of coffee in his hand made its way to his mouth before he took a sip. His eyes were on hers the entire time.
He gave her a smile that melted her strength like chocolate in the warm summer sunshine. “Morning.”
“Hi.” Her voice cracked. She tugged the bottom of her T-shirt, which did little to cover her bottom half. “I didn’t put on jeans.”
His smile morphed into a sharky grin. “I am not complaining.” To his credit, he only briefly surveyed her bare legs. He stalked toward her in that lazy, confident way he had about him. “How’d you sleep?”
“What day is it again?” She narrowed one eye, grinning when he laughed. “Did you hang your massive television?”
“I take it you didn’t hear me swearing well into the night?”
She tsk ed. “I could have helped.”
“You couldn’t stand .”
She tongued the inside of her cheek rather than admit he was correct.
“And I needed a moment.” He raked his fingers through his shaggy brown hair. She’d loved having her fingers in it last night. Soft and thick, his hair had made a good anchor when she felt like she was sliding off the edge of the earth. “I needed a couple of moments.”
Her thighs quivered, so she locked her knees. She could use a moment herself.
Then again… What better opportunity to convince him to reconsider his position on those damn jeans he insisted on wearing?
“May I?” She gestured to his coffee mug. When he handed it over, she took a sip, savoring the rich, dark roast while she decided whether or not she was going to haul him into her room and rip off his clothes. She should probably make sure he didn’t have any regrets.
Did guys have regrets?
From what she knew so far, Brody wasn’t anything like Dustin, but what if he’d sampled what she had to offer and had thought better of going further? That was a tragic possibility.
She handed his mug to him. “Thanks. I should, um…” Instead of finishing her sentence, she pointed at her room.
He stayed her with one hand on her waist, over her T-shirt and juuust above her bare hip. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah.” That word was pitched a bit higher than necessary.
“You didn’t wake up this morning regretting last night, did you?” His gaze drilled into her, forcing the truth from her mouth.
“I was considering asking you the same thing.”
“Are you kidding?” He let out a loud “Ha!”
“I tried to force you into bed with me.” She tried to make that sound tawdry, but mirth twinkled in his eyes. “Which made me wonder… Why didn’t you let me force you?” She had to know the truth. If he had concluded that they shouldn’t be having sexytimes she would…well, she had no idea what she’d do. Any alternative to sex with Brody seemed a lame substitution.
“I told you why. You had a hell of a week.”
“Not because you had second thoughts about sleeping with me?”
His smile disappeared. He blinked at her a few times. “Reagan, the only thoughts in my head last night were about sleeping with you.” He gestured to the fly of his jeans. “Rock hard from the time you went to bed until about six this morning. I didn’t sleep for shit.” He held up his mug. “This is my fourth cup.”
How could she keep from glancing at his pants? She couldn’t. And what she saw there was a bump. A big bump that was growing bigger .
“Oh. You were being polite?”
“You sound disappointed. Would you prefer I throw you over my shoulder and drag you to my room? Or back you against this wall and rip your panties off with my teeth?” He asked both with a straight face.
“Can I choose both?” If he was serious, she was all in. “I wasn’t too tired to know what I wanted last night. It’s been a long time since I had great sex. I’ve been sleeping on a couch for a hot minute, so my only chance to please myself was when I was in the shower.”
“That’s a nice visual.” His voice was gravel.
She tucked her fingers into his waistband, noticing a few more inches under there than before. “I won’t force you, but I will try and convince you.”
Her fingers brushed the head of his cock over his boxer briefs. His mouth dropped open. “Convince away.”
She was feeling more powerful than she’d felt in months, which felt freaking fantastic. Until recently, life had been kicking her around like a deflated soccer ball. Well, screw that . Time to claim what she wanted—everything she wanted.
So she pushed to her toes and pressed a kiss to his mouth.