She moved her hips in small, slow circles, and fuck, it felt good.
I closed my eyes and surrendered to the feel of the woman I loved ridin' my cock.
"Hey," she said softly. I opened my eyes and hers were glassy. "Eyes on me when I make love to you, Brody Lancaster."
I nodded and kept my gaze fixed to her as my eyes flooded.
It wasn't anI love you.
Didn't need one last night, didn't need one today.
But it was a helluva lot more than I ever thought I'd hear from her perfect lips.
Then she did exactly what she said she would.
We made love, soft and slow, until we were both orgasm-drunk and spent.
Then we napped in the middle of a Sunday afternoon.
Despite the fact that I was concussed and beat to hell, it was the best damn day of my life.
CHAPTERFIFTY-TWO
"I need to check on Speed,"Brody said Sunday afternoon.
"Then let's go."
"Cool." He fished his keys from the bowl on the counter—one of the few finished surfaces in this house—and jingled them in my direction. "I'll drive."
"No, you won't." I plucked them from his hand.
"Excuse me?"
"You're not drivin'. Not today."
He opened his mouth. I raised a brow. He closed his mouth.
"Fine." He held up both hands. "But I'm controllin' the radio."
"You can control the volume. That's it."
We were five minutes down Route 89, Brody fiddling with the dial and landing on something twangy I pretended to hate, when my phone buzzed in the cupholder.
I glanced at the screen. Picked it up.
"Hey, Hank."
Brody's head whipped toward me so fast I thought he'd give himself whiplash. "Why does Hank have your number?" he whisper-shouted.
I ignored him.
"Yeah, I hear you," I said into the phone. "We're headed out there now, actually." I paused to listen to the old man on the other end before confirming. "You sure he's up for it?"
Brody was burning a hole into the side of my head with the way he was staring so hard, like he'd been personally betrayed. I put a hand over the microphone. "Stop."
"Hank"— he mouthed, pointing at my phone like it was evidence in a murder trial—"has your number."
I went back to the call. "That sounds good. We'll meet you there." Another pause, shorter. "Yeah, Hank. I'll tell him." I hung up and set the phone back in the cupholder.
