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Accidentally Engaged

Page 15

by Nikki Chase


  “You did that for me?” I ask when I finally find my voice.

  “It was nothing,” Brock says, shaking his head. “I’ve finally realized how little it all matters without you, Nina. For the first time in my life, I’ve found something—someone—more meaningful than my work. You.”

  Screw being careful. I can’t hold back the outpouring of emotions at Brock’s words, which he has clearly backed with his actions.

  I do something I’ve been dying to do since I heard his voice calling out my name. I throw my arms around Brock and let him envelop me—his warm hands on my back, his sturdy chest for me to lean on, his lips on my head.

  Brock fills my whole world, and I feel like I’m right where I belong.

  “I’ve missed you so much; you have no idea.” Brock tightens his embrace, holding me like he’s never letting me go.

  “I think I have a pretty good idea. I’ve missed you too.” I look up to meet Brock’s gaze.

  For a moment, we look into each other’s eyes, saying nothing and everything, all at once. Pure, unadulterated happiness floods my body.

  Brock leans his forehead on mine, his nose brushing against my cheek. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, filling my lungs with Brock’s scent.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” I whisper.

  “I told you. I’d do anything for you.”

  A smile pulls my lips up. So it wasn’t just a cheesy line.

  A cough interrupts our intimate moment.

  Oh, that’s right—Dean. I totally forgot he’s still here.

  He’s probably not happy that I’m being an idiot.

  “Uh . . .” Dean clears his throat, fidgeting with the zipper of his hoodie. “I’ll, um, give you guys some privacy.”

  I watch, dumbfounded, as Dean walks away from us. Just as he’s climbing the steps to the porch, I find my voice. “Does that mean you’re okay with . . . everything?”

  I curse myself even as the words slide out of my mouth. I should shut up and just enjoy this moment. I shouldn’t give Dean a chance to ruin it.

  But when Dean turns around, there’s a smile on his face. “If Brock meant what he said, then I won’t stand in your way.”

  “I meant every word,” Brock answers quickly.

  “Good. I thought you did.” Dean takes a step toward the door then stops and faces us again. “I’m happy for you two. Really.”

  “That means a lot to me, man,” Brock says.

  “And me too,” I add.

  Dean smiles, then he slips inside the house.

  Brock and I look at each other. The warmth of his body seeps through my clothes. The breeze carries something intoxicating that buoys me up to a natural high I’ve never experienced before.

  My smile spreads into a grin. Next thing I know, Brock and I are both laughing—I can’t exactly explain why, but the sensation of tension melting away is so wonderful I don’t even want to question it.

  All I know is I’m happy to have Brock’s arms around me again.

  Brock

  We stand there just outside Dean’s house in silence, simply holding each other close.

  Nina’s tears have dried up, her head resting contentedly on my chest. The smell of her faded perfume fills my senses, and I breathe the scent deep, relieved that Nina and Dean listened to what I had to say, that they saw the truth.

  Nina is the most important thing in my life now, and I’m not going to let anything come between us—not work, not crazy exes, nothing.

  The chill in the night air has me concerned that Nina might be getting a little cold. I can feel her shivering a little in my arms.

  As if reading my thoughts, Nina looks up at me, a shy smile on her face. “Hey, would you like to come inside? It’s getting a little cold out here. I’ll make us some hot chocolate.”

  “Sure. We can’t stand out here all night. Although I’m not sure I want to let you out of my arms just yet,” I reply, brushing a stray lock of her hair back over an ear.

  Nina takes my hand and guides me inside the house, heading straight to the kitchen. She heats up some milk in a saucepan and rummages in a cupboard.

  I perch against one of the sideboards, admiring her figure as she moves about the kitchen, distracted and oblivious to my attention.

  There’s a moment of awkward silence as Nina turns to face me, resting against the counter opposite me.

  “So . . .” She looks about the kitchen as if searching for the words. Humor gleams in her eyes. “How did you know I’d be here? I could have just been at my apartment, ignoring you.”

  I smile at her words. “Well, I did try your apartment at first. But I guessed you weren’t in, and then—” I shrug my shoulders “—I just knew you’d be here. I know you, I know Dean. Let’s just call it a hunch.”

  “Wow, Detective Brock,” she teases gently, half turning to check on the milk before returning her gaze to me.

  “That’s me.” I shoot her a grin.

  A faraway look comes over her. Smiling to herself, she asks, “Hey, do you remember when we used to watch football together? Me, you and Dean?”

  “Yeah, of course. Although that seems like a long time ago now.”

  “Well, I never really was interested in the football. I only watched it because you were there. In fact, I spent most of the time staring at you while you and Dean were engrossed in the game.” She cocks her head and looks at me inquisitively. “You knew I had a crush on you, didn’t you? That’s why you never wanted to spend any time alone with me, why you were always awkward and made excuses to leave the room or be somewhere else. I always thought it was because you didn’t like me, but now . . .”

  I grin at her words, a little embarrassed by the truth. “Yeah, you got me. I knew you liked me. You were just . . . so young. It didn’t feel right, you know. Plus, you were my best friend’s little sister . . .” My voice trails off, and I look Nina up and down, taking in her womanly figure, trying to recognize the skinny girl I once knew. “But now . . . well, look at you. You’re all grown up. So damn beautiful. Now it's me who can’t stop staring at you. You’re so damn distracting.”

  She giggles a little at my words, pouring out some cocoa and bringing me over a steaming mug. She hands me the mug, our hands brushing against each other.

  We stand there and chat for a while, sipping on the steaming hot chocolate, talking about old times.

  As Nina collects the empty mug, I pull her close and kiss her, caressing those soft, sweet lips with mine.

  “You should stay tonight,” she whispers in my ear, voice low and filled with promise. “We can take the guest room.”

  “It’s getting late. What are we waiting for?”

  She gives me a seductive smile before turning away, hips swaying as she walks toward the stairs.

  I follow, eyes on her perfect butt as she climbs the stairs slowly as if teasing me. I catch up with her and grab her butt, shooting her a grin. “I couldn’t resist.”

  Nina giggles and skips off to the doorway of the spare bedroom.

  “You know,” she whispers, voice low, “when you used to stay over, I’d fantasize about you coming to knock on my door in the middle of the night when Dean was asleep, declaring your love for me, and . . . well, doing things to me I could only imagine at the time.”

  “Well, here I am,” I say. “There’s no need for fantasies tonight.”

  I grab her by the waist and pull her into the room, closing the door behind us. I kiss her hard, claiming her sweet mouth as mine. She tastes sweet, and I lose myself in her, letting her fill my senses.

  She moans softly as I pull her against me, the delicious little sound urging me on. Desire rises within me, my hardened cock twitching in my pants, longing for her.

  I pull back just enough to look into her half closed eyes. Her face is flushed with passion, her heavy-lidded eyes clouded with lust.

  “You know I’d never cheat on you, right?” I whisper. “I’d never do anything to hurt you. You’re everything t
o me. I’d do anything for you.”

  “I know that now,” she replies, smiling sweetly. “Now, stop talking and show me how much you care about me . . .”

  She squeals with delight as I pick her up, her legs wrapping around my hips as I kiss her deeply, carrying her over to the bed. I whisper, “Now, tell me about these fantasies of yours.”

  Nina smiles, a naughty gleam in her eyes. “Well, there’s one with you carrying me just like this . . . and then you throw me on the bed and have your way with me.”

  “Sounds doable enough.”

  “Is it?” she raises an eyebrow.

  “Yes,” I tell her, tossing her onto the bed, watching her tits jiggle as she bounces on the mattress. I climb up over her. “You know what else is doable?”

  “Me?” Nina asks, grinning.

  “That’s right.” I claim her mouth in another passionate kiss, my cock throbbing almost painfully in my pants. “I’m going to replace all those silly fantasies with something real. Next time you play with yourself, you’ll be thinking about this.”

  “Don’t overpromise, mister. You’re sounding terribly cocky,” she says, even though I can see from the fire in her eyes that my words are turning her on.

  “And you like that.”

  “Oh, do I, now?” she challenges. She’s wearing a loose T-shirt and looks unbelievably hot in it, but she’d look better with it on the floor.

  “Yeah. And I can prove it.” I yank off the T-shirt and toss it aside, feasting my eyes on her full tits, her pink nipples already hardened into little nubs. “Hmm . . . no bra, huh?”

  “I was asleep when you showed up. Nobody sleeps with a bra on,” she says, reaching up and pulling me down by the neck, urging me to kiss her again. Our lips and tongues twist together, both of us fighting for air as Nina’s delicate fingers fumble with the buttons on my shirt.

  I shrug off my jacket and my unbuttoned shirt, letting them crumple behind me. “I don’t know . . . I’m not convinced you weren’t deliberately seducing me, tempting me with your bra-less tits. No man can possibly say no to these babies.”

  Nina’s giggle ends with a sharp gasp when I kiss down her throat and take her nipple into my mouth, teasing it with my tongue and nibbling on it with my teeth. She lets out a sexy moan, the kind that goes into my ear and sends jolts of electricity straight down to my cock, making me desperate to bury myself balls-deep inside her.

  “Oh, Brock,” she moans. My name has never sounded so good.

  “Is this what you had in mind?” I ask, tasting her other nipple while I my hands roam all over her body. Her breast fits perfectly in my hand—no doubt a sign that we belong together.

  “Yes,” she sighs.

  “You haven’t seen anything yet.” I slip my hand inside her sweatpants and rub her over her panties. I can already feel her slick juices through the thin fabric. “Remember when I told you I knew you liked what I was doing? This is the proof, right here. You’re soaking wet, you naughty girl.”

  She says nothing, but she arches her back as I run my fingers over her, pressing herself against my hand, spreading her thighs a little wider. Man, I love watching her like this.

  “Remember any of your fantasies, then?” I ask.

  “Stop asking me things, Brock. I don’t remember anything. I can’t even think. You’re driving me so crazy right now.” I know she’s so aroused even speaking is a struggle, but I love hearing her voice like this, breathy and hoarse and so fucking sexy.

  So I ask her yet another question. “Am I living up to your fantasies?”

  “Yes,” she says, nodding, her eyes squeezed shut.

  “Do I do this in your fantasies?” I pull down her pants and panties, all at once. I slide my fingers over her soaked petals and find her clit.

  Her teeth clamp down on her bottom lip. She nods frantically, letting out a choked, “Yes.”

  And now, I can’t think either. All the blood has rushed into my cock. It’s throbbing, pulsing, demanding release.

  Pulling my pants off, I take my cock in one hand and push inside her, my eyes firmly on her beautiful face as her jaw hangs open and her eyebrows knit together.

  My weight is on my elbows as I thrust into her wet, tight pussy. I can barely control the pleasure I feel building within me.

  “You feel amazing,” I tell her.

  She bites her lips as she looks up at me, her body shuddering as her hands cling to my arms. She tries to restrain herself, but small moans escape from between her parted lips.

  I pick up my face, thrusting into her again and again. Nina pulls me down against her, wrapping her arms and legs around me, biting on my shoulder.

  “Brock . . .” she moans, her pussy gripping my cock harder.

  “What’s that, Nina? Are you coming? Tell me.”

  “Yes,” she says, her breath coming in gasping hitches. “I’m coming, Brock.”

  And then she explodes beneath me, her face scrunched up in ecstasy as her pussy clenches around my cock, milking me for all I’m worth.

  I let go, thrusting faster as my balls tighten. A powerful orgasm builds within me, my cock twitching almost painfully at the sensation.

  “Fuck,” I growl as I come inside of her, our bodies pressed together.

  Nina’s fingernails drag across my back, digging into me almost painfully, until suddenly she grows limp, her body spent.

  I brush away the hair sticking to her damp forehead. Looking into her half-lidded eyes, I ask, “Was that as good as your—”

  “Yes, Brock,” she says, smiling as she cuts me off. “That was better than my fantasies.”

  “Just checking.” I give her a grin. “That’s what you would’ve missed out on if you hadn’t let me in.”

  Her eyes grow sober, her smile fading. “I don’t want to be without you again.”

  “It was that good, huh?”

  “I’m serious,” she says.

  I look deep into her eyes and caress her flushed cheek. “I don’t want to be without you either, Nina. Ever.”

  Nina

  Nina

  I wake up to the sound of pots and pans clanging in the kitchen. The irresistible, unmistakable smell of toast, eggs and bacon wafts into the bedroom.

  My stomach growls with hunger. All I ate yesterday since breakfast was the peanut butter, M&M’s, and hot chocolate. As delicious and nostalgic as they were, that’s not exactly a balanced diet.

  Brock is still sleeping next to me, chest rising and falling slowly and steadily. He has a little smile on his face and his arm is draped over me. He looks . . . happy. As happy as I feel.

  I can’t believe we came so close to losing each other all because our fucking psycho exes just can’t let shit go. God knows how they found each other and formulated this crazy-ass plan to split us up.

  I guess family gatherings at Brock’s are going to be awkward now. Maybe he’ll tell his cousin exactly how crazy Rosa is, and there’s a chance he’ll just cut her out of his life forever.

  As for Peter . . . well, I’ll cross that bridge when I have to. One thing’s for sure, though—if he so much as looks at me, I’ll call the cops. Maybe spending some time in a cell will wake him up a little.

  But he’s not my responsibility anymore. I refuse to let him influence my life, my happiness, in any way. He’s dead to me.

  I stretch and yawn. The movement dislodges Brock’s heavy arm. His eyes flutter open, and he smiles as he sees me.

  “Good morning,” he mumbles sleepily. “I thought I was having the nicest dream, with you asleep next to me again. Thank God it’s not just a dream.”

  I kiss him softly on the lips. “Good morning. Yeah, yesterday seems like some sort of horrible, twisted nightmare. We can’t let anything like that happen again.”

  “Never,” he says, eyes solemn.

  He glances down, and I giggle to see a bulge in the sheets. “Last night wasn’t enough for you?”

  “I can never have enough of you,” he says, grinning, reaching out fo
r me.

  I shuffle away with a giggle. “Later, Brock. Try and keep your hands to yourself for a minute.”

  He looks at me with big pleading puppy dog eyes. I’m seriously considering climbing right back into bed when Dean’s voice comes ringing through the door.

  “You two going to get out of bed and eat your breakfast?” he yells. “It’s getting cold!”

  I smile. “Coming!”

  I throw on some sweatpants and wander out into the kitchen.

  Dean’s already dressed for work, suited and booted, sipping on a steaming cup of coffee. “Morning,” he grumbles. “Thought you’d never get up.”

  I pour myself a cup of joe and take a sip with a sigh of satisfaction. “How come when I make coffee at home, it never tastes as good as this?”

  He taps his nose. “Ancient big brother secret. If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

  Dean stretches and yawns—he looks tired. When Brock exits my bedroom a minute later, he shoots his friend a look.

  “Couldn’t you two have kept it down last night? I had to sleep with noise-cancelling headphones on, and now my neck hurts.”

  I feel myself blushing, but Brock just laughs.

  “Sorry,” Brock says as he pours his own cup of coffee and sits down to eat his breakfast.

  We chat over breakfast—our plans for the day, catching up on gossip, stuff like that. Just light conversation. It feels like nobody wants to go in-depth on all the drama and intensity of the previous day’s events.

  That suits me just fine. It’s over and done with. We’re all moving forward with our lives.

  “So when are you guys going to fly back?” Dean asks. “You can crash here for as long as you like. Well, assuming you can keep quiet at night that is.”

  Brock glances at me. “It’s up to Nina. If she doesn’t feel ready to go back to the city yet, I can call up the office and tell them we’re taking a few personal days. Perks of being the boss.”

  Dean smiles at his friend. “The old Brock I knew would never have done that for some girl.”

  “Well, Nina’s not just some girl, Dean.”

  My brother nods. “That’s true.”

 

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