“Not for food.”
Yes!
Brodie reached an arm beneath her knees and lifted, cradling her in his arms. A slow smile graced her face. Her breath soft against his cheek, she asked, “Are we going to have make-up sex?”
His answering response pulsed behind his too-tight zipper when he heard the word ‘sex’ from her mouth.
“We’re going to have please-forgive-me-for-being-such-a-prick sex,” he promised.
She giggled, and he warmed to the sound. “That’ll do.”
He loved this woman. He wanted her with a gut-clenching need that consumed him. He carried her down the hall to his bedroom, smiled, kissed her, and lowered her to sit in the middle of his bed. He needed to slow down, make this good for her. All he wanted to do was bury himself deep within her and stay there for the rest of their lives. Tonight should be all about her. To show her how very much he loved her.
He knelt down and removed her shoes, palming her arches, easing the ache of the day. Delighted with her moans of relief and pleasure, he flexed her foot and rubbed long strokes from foot to ankle to calf.
“Do you have any idea how much today meant to me?” she asked between groans of pleasure.
“I know this is the most important thing in your life. If I can share in it with you, make a part of it happen, I want to.”
He moved up beside her on the bed, elbow bracing his weight, palm supporting his head. The fingers of his other hand drew lazy circles on her tummy, until the fabric caught on his callouses. Then he let the back of his finger trail up her cheek and around and down her throat. He’d never get enough of the feel of her skin, so warm and soft, the beauty of her face flushed with the pleasure of his touch and the warmth of her love shining in her eyes.
She kissed him, long and sweet, and he drew her closer. She melted against him, holding nothing back. She was so soft—he’d never get enough of the feel of her in his arms.
He ran his lips across her breastbone, dipped his tongue into the hollow of her throat, nibbled at the base of the shell of her ear. Carefully, he untied the knot at her neck, and the halter dress fell from her shoulders to her waist. Jesus. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Her breath panted against his face, and she searched for his lips with her mouth.
He wanted to love her with tenderness, show her how much she meant to him, but she was making it hard. Making him hard. Her smell, her taste, the light floral fragrance of her perfume ratcheted up his need.
“Damn, baby. You’re driving me nuts. Give me a minute,” he said hoarsely.
Her gaze locked with his. She reached for the buttons of his shirt and, one by one, loosed them. “Take it off, Brodie. Take everything off. I want to see you and feel you.”
Her hands explored, running her fingers across the ridges of his stomach. When she reached the buckle of his belt, he let out an audible groan and wasted no time removing the offending garments, holding his breath while her gaze caressed every inch of him. She scooted closer until they were skin to skin, heart to heart, heat to heat, and he felt the deep, edgy need take him over.
Running his fingers over her arms, her shoulders, the creamy swell of her breasts, he grazed the rosy-hued nipples that hardened as the petals around them pebbled. She was so responsive, and he smiled as a soft moan of pleasure escaped her lips. He cupped the full mounds in each palm and brought the tips up to meet his lips, first one, then the other.
“You’re so damn beautiful, Ally. Your body, your spirit, your heart,” he rasped.
“I’m glad you think I’m beautiful,” she whispered. “You’re as beautiful to me. Why do you think I’ve been chasing you all these years? You don’t see it in yourself, I know, but I do. Your strength, your courage, your character. You’re so special. You always have been.”
He growled a protest.
“No. Don’t do that. Don’t deny what you are. Believe me. Accept. You are a kind and caring man. I’ve seen your loyalty to your men, the number of times you visit our wing, how you encourage them. I know your struggles with PTSD, and how hard it’s been. I’ve watched how you’ve fought the discouragement and won the battle.”
The sincerity in her voice reached into him, took hold of his heart, and made it hers.
Her hands reached between them to gently cradle his erection. He hissed at her touch, sucked in breath, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Damn, it felt so good. His hips instinctively thrust into the palm of her hand, and he groaned.
“Baby, keep that up and I’m not going to last very long,” he warned.
“I need you,” she whispered with a seductive smile as she continued to stroke him. “I need you to make love to me, make me yours, make me feel as though you’ll never let me go. Tonight I don’t need anything else but you. And I need you now.”
He loomed over her.
“Please,” she whispered, her eyes glazing with passion.
He opened the drawer of his bedside table and grabbed a foil packet, fumbled at tearing it open, but finally sheathed himself. Rolling back over, he kissed her cheek, the side of her mouth, her closed eyes, her forehead, the tip of her nose, murmuring words of love. When her mouth opened fully to him, he devoured her, tasting her sweetness, thrusting into her mouth as he wanted to thrust into her body. Her nails dug into his back.
One minute his knee nudged her thighs apart, and the next he was inside her, plunging into her, groaning as her inner muscles clamped around him. Hot. Wet. He drove deep, filling her. That’s what she said she wanted. He’d give her that and more.
“Brodie…please.” Her plea was urgent. She wanted him to move, so he moved. Slowly pushing in and pulling out, striving with each stroke to give her ultimate pleasure. Her eyes closed as she met his every thrust, and he set a rhythm as she writhed beneath him.
Music. He should have put on some music for her. Before, they’d made love to music, to the tempo, the beat. It had heightened her enjoyment. This time, they’d have to play their own melodies as their bodies pulsed and tensed with the rhythm of their love. Music was so much a part of her, and he cherished it, cherished everything about her that made her unique and precious.
Her body tense, her eyes still closed with passion as he pleasured her, she tightened around him; she was close.
“That’s it. Let it happen. Ride me, baby, take what you want. You wanted me; you’ve got me. Now take me, make me yours. That’s it.”
He pulled back and pushed in again to own her. Staked his claim. Marked her as his. He wanted nothing more than to give her the most exquisite pleasure she had ever experienced. She wanted him? She had him, and he wanted her to know how he felt. No more doubts, no more games. He belonged to her, now and always.
She cried his name and he drove deep as she shattered around him, her legs clamped around his waist. Her back arched, her hands clawing his biceps, she held on, riding the crescendo to the climax. Her face tensed with a long, drawn-out cry, and he pressed hard, drawing out her pleasure.
“I love you, Allison,” he ground out, thrusting once more, and shuddered his own release.
Chapter Eighteen
Saturday morning and not a thing in the world to do. Allison woke up to a big, hard body spooning her, his morning erection long and hot against her bottom. She smiled.
His breath teased her hair, and she wondered if Brodie was still asleep. She pressed back against him, and he growled softly in her ear.
“You’re going to get in trouble if you keep doing that,” he said, his body shifting over hers.
“I could get used to trouble like this.” She grinned, stretched like a sated feline, and let out a contented sigh.
“Your wish is my command, princess.” He reached for another condom, slid down her body, and parted her thighs. She burned for him. Would never get enough of him. Her breath quickened as he entered her slowly, considerately, taking care of her body.
“Are you sore?” he asked in a soft voice. So tender. So sweet.
“A little. You are quite the l
over.” She caught her breath and bit her lip as he pushed in deeper. A small feminine grunt escaped her lips.
“Too much?”
“Never,” she answered as he drew out their pleasure with slow, gentle strokes. “You’re a handsome man, Brodie. I love how you take care of your body. So sexy.” She ran her hands over his shoulders and arms, her voice stuttering as he pushed deep and held. “Y-your… shoulders…are so broad… They would have to be…wouldn’t they?” Her head came forward, eyes closed, lips pursed as he circled and withdrew, before plunging all the way in. “Oh…God…yes! T-to carry so many responsibilities and burdens. And your arms, so big and strong, I love how they cradle my body, possessive, protective.”
She ran her hands down his chest, over his abs, around to his butt, and squeezed his flexing cheeks. “So much a man, you turn me on. You always have.”
“If this body turns you on, have at it. I’m all yours.”
“Umm…I love waking up with you. I love waking up this way with you.”
“Then do it. Stay. Wake up with me this way every morning.”
“You mean it?” she breathed as he gently rocked her. He wanted her. Her heart squeezed at the thought. But she was fast leaving the place where conscious thought was possible and entering the zone of mindless lust.
“There should be no doubt,” he whispered erotically in her ear. “I love you. This is forever for me. We have some things to work out, but I’m never going to let you go.” She felt him swell within her, his heat stroking every nerve ending, faster and faster. “You going to keep talking, or are we going to do this?” He pressed a hard kiss on her mouth. “Concentrate.”
His hips pushed deep, hitting a place that made her soar. She moaned as the sensations overwhelmed her. Softly at first, then more loudly as he brought her close to climax. She wriggled against him, asking for more, demanding he pick up the pace. But he was relentless. Slow, measured, deliberate. And then she shattered in one long, obliterating explosion, her screams muffled against his chest. Such exquisite agony; such unbearable beauty.
One more thrust and he arched his back, groaned, and held himself there. She gripped his arms as he bound her to him, his body wrapped so tightly around her she could barely breathe through his release. It seemed to go on forever, their bodies one—as close as a man and woman could be. Glorious. Soaring. Then he was thrusting more slowly, bringing them down, keeping their bodies joined as they settled together.
He went first to the bathroom, took care of business, then to the kitchen, where he grabbed two bottled waters from the fridge. She took her turn in the bathroom and on her return scooted under the covers beside him. Punching her pillow double under her head, she drank half of her bottle and put it on the bedside table. Then she faced him and smiled.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Better than okay,” she answered, as he drank the entire contents of his water bottle.
Reaching out to trace his jaw with her finger, she softly asked, “What’s on your agenda this week?”
He lowered his face, and she met him halfway for a lips-only kiss. “This is our first home game. I’ll be busy with practice and meetings all week.”
“Saturday game?”
“Yeah, want to come?”
“Wouldn’t miss it. I won’t plan on seeing much of you if you’re going to be that busy, but I’ll be at the stadium with bells on.”
“Good. We have a section reserved for coaches’ and players’ wives. Would you like to sit with them, or is that too much pressure?”
Blood rushed to her face, and her heart filled with hope and happiness. She grinned at the contented expression that crossed Brodie’s face. “I’d love to. Just tell me where to go. I’ll probably be on campus anyway, catching up on some paperwork and doing a lesson plan for next week. I’m going to speak with Dr. Leo—Mary—about adjusting the therapy sessions. For now, she’s going to take an extra session, and I’ll be cutting down on mine. Eventually we’re going to put out feelers for another music therapist. I’m going to have too full a schedule to continue full time at the VA and also fulfill my commitment to the renovations and opening of the facility. We both agree my energies need to be focused on Brett’s House right now.”
“So you were surprised yesterday morning? I knew the mayor would come on board once he knew of your personal contribution. Ike would have sat on him if he’d refused.”
“He was very generous. The entire city government was very generous. We decided to book the event for the middle of November. I wouldn’t want to compete with Halloween—no ghosts and goblins allowed. But something with a holiday theme would be nice. The Alabama Theater is perfect for Christmas decorations, and we could make sure the music selections are festive and appropriate for the season.”
“I think that’s a great idea. Big Christmas trees, poinsettias, garlands, all that stuff would look great in the theater. Thought any about the program? What would you be playing?”
Excitement trilled through her body as she grinned. “How does the “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” sound? Maybe some other pieces that have become synonymous with the season.”
“Perfect.” He flicked the edge of her nose, and stole another light kiss. “Even I know that piece. The children attending will recognize the music. They’ll love it. What else?”
“You want the entire program?”
“Well, yeah, if you have it all figured out.” He rolled onto his back and snugged her close.
“Okay…I thought we’d start with a medley of traditional holiday music—‘Sleigh Bells,’ ‘Winter Wonderland,’ ‘Christmas Song,’ and so on. We have plenty of musicians who can handle those and make them sound unbelievably wonderful. There’s a student who does marvelous interpretive dance, so I thought we could include her. And Eleanor Harper should sing ‘O Holy Night.’ ”
She heard his quick intake of breath as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stared at the opposite wall, shoulders slumped, and dropped his head.
Allison got on her knees and moved behind him. Reaching around and under his arms, she snuggled her breasts against his still sweaty back and rested her head on his shoulder, next to his ear.
“Brodie,” she whispered. “You aren’t upset that Eleanor will be taking part in the concert, are you? She may have conflicting plans and not be able to participate at all. But if she’s free, I’d be remiss not to include her.”
He shook his head and sighed. “I don’t object to Eleanor. It’s her son I wish wouldn’t come.”
She hesitated, then hugged him a little tighter. “It doesn’t matter. Jess and I are friends…just friends.”
He huffed and turned to look at her with raised brows. “He’s in love with you, Ally. He told me himself he wasn’t going to step aside.”
She bit her lip and sat back on the bed. They were both naked, and she began to feel self-conscious, so she grabbed the edge of the sheet to cover her body. “We need to settle this. What kind of woman do you think I am? Do you think that if I had any interest in Jess that I would have spent last night making love with you? That I would have given my body and heart to you and done the things we did?” She strove to remain calm and restrain the growing irritation she was feeling.
“It isn’t that.” He reached to take her in his arms. “It isn’t you. It’s him.”
She took a deep breath and pulled his chin to face her, looked deeply into his eyes. “I’m only going to say this one time—and then, as far as I’m concerned, any discussions of my relationship with Jess are done. You are the man I love. You are the one I’ve always loved. All. My. Life. That is never going to change, and no one will ever come between us unless you—I repeat—unless you put them there.”
His kiss was desperate. He claimed her mouth, branding her, letting her will overcome his. Through the hot, wet, explosion of passion, he relented. “You win. No more about Harper. But, just to be clear, I won’t share you.”
His hand clamped over her poundin
g heart. “This belongs to me. Always and only to me.”
Her hands captured his hands, moved up his strong forearms, his biceps, to his shoulders and down his chest to mirror his touch against her. She felt the pounding of his heart against the palm of her hand. Pressing against his chest, she answered. “I belong to you. Always and only to you.”
His hand reached to cover hers; her hand laced with his fingers. They stared into each other’s eyes, and it was a long time before either of them thought about leaving that bed. She would never love anyone as much as she did Brodie. Whatever happened on the road ahead, she would be right where she always wanted to be. By his side, facing the future together; a very good place to be.
****
Allison woke up about three o’clock the next day, famished and needing a shower. She glanced at Brodie, stretched, and smiled. If she’d been a cat, she’d be purring right about now. Thoroughly loved and sated, she didn’t want to move; didn’t know if she could move, but hunger forced her to try.
“I’m going to head across the street. I want to bathe, shampoo my hair, and take a look at my e-mails. If you want to come over for an early supper, give me about an hour. I’ve got some shrimp in the freezer, and I can make a killer stir-fry with some penne and broccoli.”
Brodie’s stomach rumbled. “Damn, that sounds good. I’ll catch up on some stuff here while you make pretty. So, about four, four-thirty?”
She stood on tiptoe and pecked him on the cheek. “See you then.”
Jogging across the street, praying a curious neighbor wasn’t being inordinately snoopy, she unlocked her door. A weird feeling assaulted her senses. Something didn’t feel right in her house, and she smelled the distinct aroma of body odor. It smelled like fear.
The hair on the back of her neck rose in warning. Either someone had been in her house just before she got home, or they were still there.
Whoever it was, they already knew she was here. She had no weapon, no way to defend herself. She could make it back to Brodie’s. He’d know what to do.
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