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“The first time I made Brooks an offer was three years ago. It was just a photograph then, and he turned me down. I offered him more money every time I saw him,” he says, and now I have to look at him. “But he would never sell it, not until Jordan. I guess that’s when he realized why I wanted it.”
“Why?”
He lets me slide down the wall, waiting until my feet hit the ground before he brings his hands up to cup my face. “Because when you fall in love with someone the way I fell in love with you all those years ago, it doesn’t matter if you can have them, it doesn’t matter if they want you, or if you can ever be together. All that matters,” he says, leaning down to brush his nose across mine. “Is that you love them, to the point that your world starts to revolve around them, and you can’t imagine anyone else seeing them the way you do.”
I’m speechless, but it doesn’t matter, because Mal’s mouth is on mine again, and we’re wrapping around one another, tongues battling, bodies grinding and arching, while our hands tug at the small bits of clothing separating us. When he strips me of the shirt, he stands back, worshipping me with his eyes, making every part of my skin flush and tingle.
“You’re not convenient,” he tells me again. “You’re all that matters, Nala. For years, you’re all that’s mattered.”
We’re desperate after that. I launch myself at him, forcing him to take a few steps back and fall onto the bed, where I instantly straddle him. I kiss a path down his neck to his collarbone, his chest where I lick both nipples and have him hissing out again—further down, so I can run my tongue through the grooves of his abs and beneath the band of his shorts.
“Nala,” he says on a choked gasp. I don’t let him get any further before I’ve tugged his shorts down and taken him into my mouth. His hips arch, bucking off the bed, and I work him harder, spurred on by the guttural sounds coming from him, the feel of his hands tightening in my hair, the sound of my name on his lips.
“No,” he says, pulling me back. “Inside of you. I want to be inside of you when I come.” He yanks at my panties, ripping them with one hard tug, and then he’s using his hands on me, plunging two fingers inside while he jackknifes up and latches onto my breasts.
By the time I grab a condom from his nightstand and roll it on him, we’re both on the edge, nearing an explosion that threatens to detonate at epic proportions.
He’s sitting, me on his lap with my knees on either side of his hips, holding himself at the base with one hand, while his other guides me down and over him. “Always you,” he says, thrusting up at the same time that he brings me down. “My girl, always.”
I bear down, taking him all the way until we’re as close as possible, and then I’m riding while he rocks with me, his hands tight on my hips, his lips at my throat. I ride until we’re both panting, until we’re both crazy, until we’re both flying off the edge, bodies shattering into millions of pieces on the way down.
