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“That sounds delicious. Smells delicious. I love the dinners you make. Thank you for making them.” His lips explore my neck and I shiver. I’ve never been kissed there. It feels nice. Relaxing. It doesn’t tickle because his lips are firm, which is good because I hate tickling sensations.
His heated breath caresses my ear as he says, “I’ve had an appetite all day.”
“I wasn’t talking about food.” His hand smooths over my stomach until it cups me between my legs. Then he pulls me back, his hardness pressing into my ass.
My breath hitches.
His voice drops, so it’s rough and filled with sparks. “Is this okay?” His finger pushes against the thin fabric of my pants. As soon as he feels that I’m already wet, he moans. “I want you. I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you. Tell me it’s okay to have you, because I can’t survive any longer without you wrapped around my cock.”
My heart slams against my ribcage. It’s been a while since I felt the powerful sexual side of Brody wash over me. Pull me in. Not since that day I watched him in his room. Everything between us lately has been so tender and sweet—nights of talking, laughing, and cuddling—that I forgot about this side of him.
My body didn’t. It reacts instantly, my thighs tensing.
He’s a firm, masculine force pressing into my back, hands gentle yet demanding. And his words. They’re melting my insides. I feel compelled to let him do whatever he wants. My body craves it.
I chew on my inside cheek. This is too new. I’m used to being the initiator and taking the lead. That way, I know what’s going to happen. I pick the guy. I plan for the sex. It rarely lasts long and there’s barely any foreplay.
I don’t know how sex with Brody will feel. I trust him. I know he won’t hurt me. But I don’t know what to expect, and that always stirs my anxiety.
I lean forward, just enough so he’s not prodding my back with how incredibly hard he is.
He clicks the crock pot off. “I want to eat you.” His fingers play between my legs and I fall into the sensation despite my urge to run.
His hand stops. “Never?”
Josh’s reaction flashes in my mind, the way he stopped touching me when I said I had never come. Why did I just tell Brody I’ve never had oral? He’s going to tell me my lack of experience is a turnoff. That I’m damaged.
I brace myself as he squeezes me and rubs his hips against my ass. “That makes me want to eat you more,” he growls.
“Yeah. No other man has tasted you? Only I get to?” His fingers dig into my pants, trying to invade me. “Can I? You have to tell me because if you don’t want to continue this, I’ll respect that. But I’m letting you know I want to. I’ve wanted you for weeks.” His cheek nuzzles the side of my head.
Why does this feel like more than sex? That doesn’t make sense. He wants sex. This is only sex. Why does it feel tender? It shouldn’t be anything besides pure carnal pleasure.
I release a shaky breath. This is what I’ve wanted. Why am I hesitating? It’s just sex.
I nod. Yes, I want to continue.
Before I can think, he spins me around and his lips are against mine. Hard. This isn’t a light ‘good to see you’ kiss or the slow, relaxing make out kissing we do before bed. This is firm and demanding and soaked in need. My body reacts outside my control. My legs become jello, blood pounding in my head. My skin burns from an internal furnace.
So we’re doing this. The wait is over. What if I don’t live up to his expectations? He’s been with so many women, and I’m a complete amateur. What if I don’t orgasm? He’ll feel bad, and then I’ll feel bad. I’ll have to tell him it’s completely my problem so he stops feeling bad, but then he’ll know I’m a broken woman. Sex with me will be ruined. Or I’ll have to fake it, and that seems wrong because Brody is so caring and sweet.
I hate lying. Deceiving. That’s all I’ve been doing.
“Paige?”
I blink. He’s been kissing me, but I’ve barely responded.
“Are you sure this is okay? If you tell me no, I’ll stop.” He kisses my forehead. I wish he’d stop kissing me there. Nuzzling me. It’s too tender, and I’m leaving once Amber gets back. We don’t have to be tender with each other. Why are we spending all this time hanging out and cuddling? It’s nice, but this can’t last.
I touch his chest, feeling a rock-hard pec. Brody is so hot it makes me want to weep. He’s got muscles for his muscles. Dammit, and I just want to kiss him and share an orgasm and have him beside me, and I think silly things like what if I could stay here with him forever? We could watch porn together on the weekends, and he could try to get me to work out, but I would always make excuses not to, but then I’d watch him workout and exercise on my own, secretly, to get nice and toned for him. I’d never feel scared, ever, because Brody would be there to keep me safe and beat up all my bullies.
Stop it. Focus on sex.
