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“She’s dead.” His tone is ice.
“Brady!” I scold, though I know it’s hard for him.
He leans in and brushes his lips over mine once before joining our foreheads. His eyes reflect insufferable pain. “I can’t talk about it.”
Sadness squeezes my heart. His mother is a source of extreme agony and grief that he’ll never get past without talking about it. I won’t push him, though. He has to be ready, and clearly he’s not.
I smile and plant a quick kiss on his lips. “I didn’t know you could sing like that.”
He shrugs. “I don’t.”
Brady doesn’t like the spotlight to be on him. You’d think he would, considering that while he was growing up, Sheila ignored him. Armchair psychology would suggest that he should crave attention and do anything to get it. That he would love all eyes on him. He doesn’t. But what do I know? I got a D in my psych class.
“That’s too bad.” I bite my lip, glancing between his mouth and his eyes. “Hearing you sing like that has me all hot and bothered.”
His lips turn up into a devilish grin. Warm green eyes sneak a peek at my chest before returning to my face. “You’re always hot and bothered.”
Without another word, his hands leave my back. I catch his neck with my arms before I fall. He shoves my dress above my waist. My underwear is torn from my body, and then his fingers find my opening and plunge into me. We moan in unison as I bury my head in his neck, his stubble brushing against my cheek roughly. He’s sweaty and smells musty, a delicious combination of delectable sweetness that’s only him. As his head rises, his lips find mine and his tongue delves into my mouth, sweeping across mine while his fingers curl inside me, brushing across a spot that has
me writhing beneath him. His fingers continue to work the front wall inside me while his thumb circles my clit, and I know I won’t last long.
“Oh, God!” I pant, breathless. “I want you!”
“Not yet,” he tells me as he continues to ravish my mouth.
“Brady!” I cry out, driven by passion.
His fingers dive deeper, move harder as his thumb circles faster. It’s only going to be a few seconds before I’m falling to pieces. The mounting pressure building in my core has me holding my breath and grinding my hips against his hand. When I’m sure I’m going to pass out from pleasure, I jerk wildly and crash down, crumbling onto him in a pile of dead weight. As a wave of trembling soars through me, my entire body constricts around him. I’m holding him so tight that I don’t realize my nails have dug into his shoulders until he flinches. I release my death grip and look up at him apologetically.
“Ouch.” He grins before reaching down and grabbing the bottom of my dress and slipping it over my head. He quickly reaches around my back, unclasps my bra, and drops it to the floor before leaning down and kissing each nipple. They tighten instantly under his lips. My breasts are heavy, the weight resting on my baby bump. His hands find each one and then move to massage my belly.
“You’re gorgeous.”
Any other man, and I’d be self-conscious.
But not Brady.
He makes me feel gorgeous.
When his lips find mine, my hands slip into his silky, dark hair, giving a gentle pull.
“I want to be inside you now,” he moans into my mouth.
I reach down and feel for the button on his jeans, ripping it free and sliding down the zipper. His arm holds my waist as he lifts us slightly from the stool and slides his pants and boxers down his legs. He steps out of them and lowers us back down to the stool, entering me as he does. I throw my head back, releasing a satisfied moan.
We sit still for a moment with his arms around my waist. He’s so deep, his erection pulsing inside me. I want him to move. “Brady.”
“One second,” he pants.
Oh. He’s trying to compose himself so he doesn’t come. I love that I have this effect on him. That he has to work to control himself. It’s usually I who lacks control.
One hand leaves my waist and slips behind my ear, squeezing tightly as he nips at my neck. “I want you to ride me.”
I smile and lift myself up until I reach the tip of his length before slamming back onto him. He groans in appreciation before yanking my head forward and burying his tongue in my mouth aggressively, which stops me from lifting up again. The craving to give him what he wants has me breaking the kiss and pulling him to my chest.
“Wrap your legs around my waist,” he growls into my skin as he licks at my nipple.
I do as he says, locking my legs around his waist, causing a low cry to escape my lips when the angle changes.
