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“The feeling is mutual.” I move closer as if we’re not standing only inches from each other already. “I was wrong when I thought something was missing from her life. You’re doing everything right. She is a well-adjusted, stable five—”
“Almost six,” Brodie corrects as Lucy would have if she were here.
“Almost six-year-old.” Our smiles match until I confess, “I was reflecting because it is easier to see other people’s flaws than it is our own.” I nervously tug on the hem of my shirt. “I—”
Brodie silences me by placing his hand under my chin and raising my head. His briefest touch switches the torment swirling in my stomach into something less debilitating. It reboots the confidence I only ever have around him and adds a playful touch to our exchange.
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s rude to interrupt someone when they’re talking?”
He accepts my gibe on the chin. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s rude to listen in on other people’s conversations?”
“I… When…” I give up. “I’m as fascinated by Caroline as Lucy is.”
That wasn’t what Brodie was expecting me to say. “Why?”
I shrug. “She makes up half of Lucy. What isn’t there to love?”
He doesn’t know how to respond. “It’s… ah... late.” He moves toward the door before retracing his steps. “I’m gonna go to bed.” He leans in like he’s going to kiss me, pats my head instead, freezes, cusses, and then turns back around. “Night.”
Although disappointed, I almost lost the chance to interact with him earlier today, so I issue him the same farewell instead of pouting like a child. “Night.”
He makes it five paces before he stops again. This time, he doesn’t turn around. He remains facing the door, his chest rising and falling so erratically I grow worried he’ll overwork his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
My question jumps him out of his stupor. “Yes. Goodnight.”
He races through the swinging door so fast it is still flapping in the aftermath of his push when he tackles it for the second time, instead from the opposite direction.
“Did you forget something?” I ask, clueless about what has caused his angsty expression.
“Yes,” he replies, rounding the island. “This.”
Faster than I can blink, he weaves his fingers through my hair and seals his lips over mine.
He kisses me as if it is the only thing he was designed to do. It is a blinding embrace that releases a heap of pent-up frustrations while stacking more onto the pile. Our tongues clash over and over, but I need more. I’m desperate for more.
Thankfully, so is Brodie.
After clearing the island of every dish in sight, he lifts me to sit on the gleaming counter before wedging himself between my thighs. My burns stopped stinging two days ago, but I am fond of how the silky fabric of my kimono-inspired dressing gown brushes against my bare skin, so I’ve continued wearing it sans panties for the past few days.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Brodie murmurs over my kiss-swollen lips when he realizes I’m without panties. He breaks our kiss and lowers his eyes to the dangerous split in my nightwear. “This is the exact reason I couldn’t sleep. Knowing. Wondering.” His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. “Picturing. I couldn’t get you out of my head.”
His confession is shocking. I thought he couldn’t sleep because he’s reprimed his house with memories of his wife. I had no clue I was partly to blame for his restlessness.
I run my fingers through his hair, bringing his eyes back to mine before I kiss him again. I don’t fumble and expose my nerves. I show him how confident he makes me feel and that everything happening is because I want it as much as he does.
Things move quickly after I’ve stolen the air from his lungs with a breathless embrace. In under a minute, Brodie kisses a trail from my neck to the apex of my pussy. Even quicker than that, he spreads me wide with his fingers, blows a hot breath over my slit, then drags his tongue up the lines running down the middle of my pussy.
A moan hums up my chest when his hairy chin scratches at my pussy as his tongue finds my clit, and then my eyes flutter shut.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamed about doing this again.”
I arch my back, as turned on by his confession as I am the rotations of his tongue over the sensitive bud between my legs. “Tell me.”
“Morning.”
Another lick.
“Noon.”
And another.
“And night.”
This time, he sucks my clit into his mouth, and when his teeth graze the hood, I combust.
My body shakes and shudders. I fall brutally and quickly, and I love every minute of it.
I can’t breathe, and I’m almost sure the roof in the kitchen is full of stars, but before I can announce that it was the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever experienced, Brodie sprints to the edge of a frenzy all over again. He uses his fingers this time too, which are prodding and probing but mind-hazingly delicious.
