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A second or two later, she replied:Right now?
Me:Yeah. Can I see you?
I was waiting for her response when the front doors burst open. She walked outside in the same tiny outfit she’d worn while performing with the band and she looked tired but still so pretty it made my damn chest hurt.
“I’m too tired to leave. My roommate is spending the night with her man. You wanna come up?”
“Can I?” I asked. “I mean, you can have visitors this late?”
“It’s homecoming week. No one is working the desk at night. They should be, but they’re not. You’ll just have to leave early in the morning.”
I nodded, followed her inside the building, through the lobby, and onto the elevator.
The energy flowing between us filled the confines of the car as we silently rode to her floor, our eyes glued to one another. I wanted her fine ass so bad it really didn’t make sense. There was a burning in my chest and a stirring in my groin that had me feeling like I was going to lose my mind if I didn’t touch her, kiss her soon. I’d never felt this type of madness before at all, let alone attached to my feelings for a woman, but I somehow knew it was akin to what an addict must feel when they’re in need of a dose of their preferred substance. Damn, I was actually addicted to Brooklyn in the worst and the best way.
Once we made it to her floor, she broke eye contact with me, stepping off the elevator without looking back. Hell, I was sure she could sense my desperation. She could probably smell my desire for her in my pheromones or something at that point because I felt more like an inexperienced teenager than a thirty-one-year-old man who had fucked on more than one continent at that point.
We arrived at her door and her hand shook as she inserted her key in the lock. Was she nervous? Scared?
Opening the door, she held it open for me and I just stood there, feeling as unsure as I did the first time I’d touched her a year earlier.
A whole damn year.
“Brooklyn Skye,” I said softly. “You sure you want to—”
She yanked me into the dark room, letting the door slam shut and pushing me against it. Before I could get a handle on things, her mouth was on mine and her hand was squeezing my dick through my pants.
I moaned into her mouth, grabbing her ass with both hands as I tasted her tongue. We kissed and groped and moaned several minutes before I managed to pull my mouth from hers and it was then that I felt the wetness on my lips. Salty…tears.
“Turn the light on,” I croaked. “Let me see you.”
A sniffle and then a soft, wavering, “No,” from Brooklyn.
I fumbled along the wall beside and behind me, figuring the light switch was next to the door. Finding it, I flipped I and had to blink against the harsh light, my eyes first taking in the small room. White-painted cinder block walks, two twin beds, two small desks and two standing wardrobes. No bathroom. I could tell which side was Brooklyn’s because there was a picture of her on the little desk at the foot of her bed. The other side was colorfully decorated from the pillows and comforter on the bed to the décor on the walls. Her side was…stark, minimal, and honestly, sad. I’d never asked her about her family or her background, and I felt like shit for that because judging from her surroundings and the tears I now saw flowing down her cheeks, her life hadn’t been easy.
“Brooklyn…” I nearly whispered, reaching up to swipe a tear from her soft face. “Why you crying, baby?”
She shook her head, dropping her eyes to the floor. “I just get sad sometimes. I don’t wanna talk about it. I just want to feel you. I just need what you can give me. Only you can do it like you do it. So…will you? Will you make me feel good right now?”
“I think I’d conquer the world for you, Brooklyn Skye.”
More tears as she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me again, this time frantically. Then, before I could catch on to the rhythm and pace she’d set, her mouth was gone and she was on her knees before me, frenetically pulling my pants and underwear down. In seconds, I was in her hot mouth, groaning as my back hit the wall.
“Shhhhit, Brooklyn Skye! Fuck!” I said a little too loudly, but I couldn’t help it. Her pretty mouth was just as gifted as everything else about her and I swear I was a minute from crying real tears.
“Brooklyn…Brooklyn…Brooklyn,” I mumbled. “It’s so good.” And then I realized this was backwards. I was supposed to be makingherfeel good.
“Get up, baby. Get up, get up,” I whimpered.
She did and I pulled her to me kissing her while moving us to her bed, and then I went about the business of making her feel extremely good.
Hours had passed,she’d turned the light off, and we were skin to skin in her bed. The bed was so damn small I should’ve been uncomfortable but being this close to her with her leg thrown over mine, her face buried in my chest, I’d never felt so comfortable. Nothing in my life had ever felt so right.
I dropped my lips to her forehead, softly kissing it, thinking she was asleep until her voice penetrated the darkness.
“I grew up really poor. My mom was young when she had me—eighteen, and she struggled to provide for us. My dad says he tried to help but she was so mad at him, she wouldn’t let him. She hated him. Shestillhates him. Shit, for a while, I hated him too.”
“You don’t now?” I asked.
