Another step and Brian’s pressing his forehead to mine.
“Stella,” he says, long and slow like he’s making love to my name, breathing it out and pulling me in.
“You’re going to ruin me for any other man,” I say quietly into the night, closing my eyes and feeling the full weight of the moment on us, the sizzling and crackling of a passion that feels obscure and surreal and long awaited. The cool fall breeze settles a chill on my heated skin, skin I wish he’d claim again with his mouth, his lips.
“What makes you think I’m going to let another man have you?”
His hands reach for mine, gripping them lightly before his fingers begin blazing a trail up the backs of my arms to my shoulders. Turning his head slightly, Brian kisses my lips gently, sweetly, but he’s not searching and not asking for me to give him anything in return.
My messenger bag slips off one shoulder, my purse from the other, and before I can react to his lips on mine, Brian is pulling away with my bags in hand.
“Come on. You can be a lady and drive me home,” he says, reaching once again for my hand and leading me to my truck. “I walked.”
The fog lifts. Something is missing. Not something. Someone.
“Where is Britt? You didn’t leave him home alone, did you?” There’s panic in my voice. I drop Brian’s hand as he opens my door so I can climb in.
“I’m only a few blocks from home. I’m sure he’s fine. He’s a tough kid. He can ward of anyone who tries to break in,” he says, deadpan, and I’m not sure if he’s serious or just really good at sarcasm.
I narrow my eyes and he flashes me a smile while closing my door.
“Actually,” he says, opening the passenger door and hopping into the seat, still holding my bags, “I was watching the game with Greg tonight and we were still hanging out when Caryn called him upset because you were still at the office. He’s at the house in case Britt wakes up.”
“Why didn’t you just call me and tell me to go home? That’s what Caryn did, but I imagine you would have been nicer about it.”
“And miss the look on your face when you turned around to see me standing there?” His laugh brings a smile to my lips and I can’t believe I kept myself away from him for three days. Romantic feelings aside, I like spending time with Brian. He’s fun and amazing and beautiful. “Besides, I missed you. Just a little. This way, too, I can convince you to come inside for a cup of coffee.”
“Beer and it’s a deal.” It’s been a long week.
“Beer it is.”
Brian
Chapter Seventeen
“What do you mean you haven’t read the story yet?” I’m laughing at Stella. A few beers in and she’s coming unglued, but in a good way. She needed to unwind. “You’re the freaking editor, Stella, and you didn’t even read her story about me?”
She lets out a groan — a melodic little version of a groan deep in her chest that makes her ten times sexier than she already is because it shows how not superhuman she is — and covers her face.
“I know, I know. I suck. A lot. I’ve just been in my own world this week,” Stella says into her hand, the other clutching her bottle of beer.
I can’t decide what’s more enticing, the fact she drinks beer or that she walked into my kitchen and climbed up onto the counter to visit like she used to when she’d come into my parent’s house. Or both.
We got back to the house and, when Stella walked in behind me, Greg made a quick departure even though we’d told him to hang around. It may be after midnight, but he was more than welcome to have a few more drinks with us.
Instead he slipped out the door telling us to enjoy ourselves and that he’d take care of everything at the coffeehouse in the morning.
I’m not immune to the fact he didn’t necessarily want to leave. We both need time to relax and just do the brotherhood thing without the business and things related to work getting in the way. We want to spend a Friday night drinking and watching baseball. It’s what we do, and we’ve always been really good at it.
But Greg also knows my history — or lack thereof — with love. It doesn’t exist. I looked for it a lot in college, but no one ever compared to what I knew I wanted. Even Britton’s mom never measured up. She was the furthest thing from my “dream girl” and before finding out she was pregnant she was just going to be a fun memory to revisit on lonely nights.
When Stella walked into my life? It was over. And Greg knew from the moment I told him about her. So, his quiet exit tonight, it’s welcomed.
It’s time she reads that story Caryn wrote.
“Okay, you might suck but I’ll be the judge of how much,” I say, and I know by the blush that colors her cheeks she’s listening to my words but hearing the double entendre, so I wink at her and take another sip of my beer. “You can make it up to me, you know?”
Her mouth drops open. Laughing I reach across the space separating us and push her jaw closed.
“I’m more of a gentleman than that, Stell. You can make it up to me by reading the article. I smell kind of like a foot after being in the kitchen most of the day. You read. I’ll shower.” That should do it.
Grabbing the paper from the breakfast table, I sidle up to where Stella’s sitting on the counter and push my hips between her jean clad knees. Taking the beer from her hand and setting it next to her, I place the paper on her lap.
“Read it, like you’re just a regular person enjoying the story. No playing editor tonight. No fixing grammatical errors someone else didn’t catch.” My voice is low, an authoritative growl that causes her breath to stumble as it falls from her lips. “I want you to enjoy this story like you forgot how much the written word means to you, to who you are.”
She’s watching me — my lips, my eyes, the crease in my right cheek knowing it hides a dimple that makes her sigh when I smile.
“Kiss me. Please? And then go take a shower. Because, you’re right, you smell.”
The dimple comes out of hiding and the unmistakable sound of her sighing hits all my senses as I dip my head toward hers, sliding my lips over to her ear a split second before they can connect with hers.
“Read first. Kisses after,” I whisper. Turning on my heels, I high tail it to the bathroom before she can object again.
Standing there any longer would have left us both breathless, possibly naked. Naked could be really good, but I want her to read Caryn’s story first.
Pulling my jersey and undershirt over my head as I walk through the bathroom door, I hear the rustling of newsprint and smile to myself knowing I got my way. I love getting my way.
As quickly as I can, I pull my jeans and boxer briefs off and throw everything in a pile next to the hamper. Jumping under the warm spray of water, I try as hard as I can to not think about Stella in the other room.
I can’t help it.
“Seriously,” I scold myself. “What the fuck. Are you fifteen?”
It’s like my penis just caught up with my brain and realized there’s a girl in the other room. A girl both are attracted to. A girl who goes cross-eyed when she’s kissed like she deserves to be kissed, and I plan to kiss her like that all night long.
I bite my tongue to keep from crying out as I twist the temperature gauge on the shower from hot to holy-Christ-that’s-cold in hopes I can get my anatomy under control. The last damn thing I need is to walk out of the bathroom with a raging erection. I want her to see how much I care about her, not how much I’d love to take her to bed.
Right, don’t think about beds, Brian. Don’t be a dumbass.
Shutting the water off, I start running numbers for inventory and figuring up how many pounds of flour we need to order — the absolute least sexy thing I can think of — while I towel dry my hair and wrap the cloth loosely around my hips.
I only get the shower curtain pulled halfway open before I stop myself.
“You came back ... to find me?” Stella’s leaning on the doorframe, one arm crossed in front of her chest and gripping the opposite b
icep; the newspaper dangles from her fingers.
Sometime in the eight minutes that it took me to shower, she took her hair down and made herself look even more delectable, probably without realizing what she did.
I know I’m staring at her, but I just can’t tear my eyes away. I’m not just naked in front of her, I’m splayed open and my heart is beating for her. And she knows it.
“It seemed like a good investment,” I say, finding my voice.
I’m still standing in the bathtub, and now I’m not sure if I attempt to hold her or get dressed in the clothes I’d laid out before Caryn called Greg and I went off in search of Stella. My brain is at war with my body again, so I reach for the clean boxer briefs on the counter while I step out of the tub and slip them on under the towel.
She’s looking. She’s watching. Taking everything in and I’m praying I haven’t just overwhelmed her. Not again, not after how she’s been all week from what Caryn told me and Greg — scatterbrained and living on coffee.
I toss the towel over the curtain rod and pull on the pair of sweatpants I’d set aside.
“I came back to start a business. The bonus was the possibility of rediscovering you,” I say. “I knew your parents were still here — your mom helped my realtor find this place for me before I moved back — but I was too afraid to ask her if you were still here. I was scared to death you wouldn’t remember me. And she didn’t say anything about you being here.”
I inhale deeply, trying to prepare myself.
“I knew if I found you before I was ready, before you were ready, you would have run from me. As it was, I came back around the time you found out your husband was leaving you, and my fear of asking about you turned into a blessing in disguise. It — without my knowing what happened to you — gave me a good reason to wait. I couldn’t just approach you the first time I saw you, Stella, because that first time I saw you all I wanted to do was pull you into my arms and keep you for myself, so I took my time getting used to the idea that you ... you’re still here.”
“You came back to find me.” She repeats herself, but isn’t questioning it anymore. How could she?
“I always told you I would never not find you,” I say quietly. “It just took me a lot longer than I planned this time.”
“Well, I’m right here.” There’s fire in her hooded eyes and a quirk to her lips as she drops the newspaper and takes three steps across the expanse separating us. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she whispers against my lips, “Are you ready to find me now?”
Pulling her in closer, my hands find her ribcage and I slowly slide them along her body to her hips and, turning her slightly, I reach down and grab her thighs just above her knees and lift. I need to feel her against me everywhere. I lift her enough to place her bottom on the bathroom counter and push myself between her legs, my hips colliding with her roughly as I take her face in my hands and look at her, barely contained lust streaking through her hazel eyes.
And I kiss her. The kiss she nearly begged me for earlier totally obliterated by the animalistic need rushing through my veins to consume her, make her mine and let her own me in return.
It’s a battle of tongues and lips as we come together and fall apart in the frenzied act of removing her shirt and bra to finally feel the heat of skin on skin contact.
Stella reaches behind me and grabs my shoulders, trailing her nails down my back until another thread of control snaps and I grind my hips into her, feeling the pressure start to build as my cock gets thicker, harder. Her breath hitches and I move my mouth from her perfectly swollen lips to her bare neck, giving her the attention she seeks while my hands slip beneath the waistband of her jeans.
I pop the button and reach for the zipper as she lifts her legs and wraps them around my waist, pulling me into her again, a whimper slipping from her sweet mouth as I simultaneously push against her and drag my teeth across her nipple.
Her hands are in my hair, urging me to stay as her breathing becomes more labored. Holding her in my right arm, keeping myself pressed tightly to her still clothed core, I reach up and gently roll the nub on her other breast between my fingers.
“Brian,” she breathes my name out like it’s the most important word she’ll ever say. “Please.”
She slowly begins pushing my sweats down my hips, over the swell of my ass, and pulls my mouth back to hers.
“Please. Don’t make me wait for this,” she says, her lips a fraction of an inch away from mine, a look in her eyes that tells me if I don’t give into her request she may just take what she wants from me. I’d be okay with that, but our first time I want it to be me giving her everything she needs.
Her pleasure is my pleasure, and I can’t wait to get mine. I crush my lips against hers and pray I don’t tell her I love her ... yet.
Grabbing the top of her jeans, I push the waistband down until she lifts her hips and I slide them as gracefully as I can over her backside and down her thighs until I have no choice but to give up my place between her legs to work them clear off her body. I take a step back and toss them in the pile with my dirty clothes, catching sight of her sitting in just a pair of navy blue cotton panties, legs dangling, full breasts and the mouth of an angel who’s been roughly and thoroughly bitten and kissed.
“God, you’re beautiful. You’re gorgeous with clothes on, but right now ... Stella, you’re more perfect than even my wildest wet dreams could have summoned.” A shy smile spreads across her lips.
“Yeah, well, you’re not so bad yourself,” she jests. “Get back over here.”
There’s no reason to object. I haven’t been with anyone in years, and I wonder if it was all leading me to this moment, to Stella wrapping me up in her legs and arms.
“Lose the pants, country boy.”
And I do, right before I press my body back against the safe haven she’s providing me. Pushing her hair away from her face, I can’t help but thank my lucky stars that her ex-husband was such an ungrateful asshole to give this up, because I’m going to love her better than he ever could.
Our lips collide once more, but it’s not as needy and standing there in my bathroom, I map out Stella’s body with my lips and tongue until she’s whimpering again and her eyes are glazed over in a just-fuck-me-already haze.
I need to slow down. I need to know if this is what she wants, if she really wants it as much as I do.
“I don’t know, Stell. Do you think we should? I mean, I’m game if you are, but —”
“Don’t you dare, Brian Alexander Stratford. I’ve wanted this moment from the minute I watched you turn and walk your sweet ass through the café doors — before I knew it was you. Don’t you dare make me wait longer.” She’s authoritative. And bossy. And I can’t get enough of her, so I reach for her face to pull her lips to mine again as she reaches into my boxers, pushing them down off my hips.
Concentrating on the gentle, firm strokes, I lose myself in the sensation and forget everything but the feel of her hand on my flesh.
“Panties,” I grunt, smiling. “I can’t do anything if you have those on.”
With one hand still stroking my cock, she uses the other to shimmy out of that pair of little blue underwear. Kicking them off, she pulls me back into her personal space, a sanctuary that exudes strength and femininity and I can’t wait to sink myself into all of that.
Pulling her hips forward on the counter, I slowly press myself into her, trailing soft kisses along her jaw as I feel her stretch around me, enveloping me in her slick folds. I thrust into Stella to the hilt, and hold myself there, unhurried in our lovemaking as I lay my forehead against hers.
“You feel so good,” I say, and regardless of how cliché it is, it’s the truth.
She nips my lip with her teeth, clenching her muscles around me and wiggling her hips until I groan and have no choice but to move. I pull out and leisurely pump my hips back into her until we find a rhythm. The methodical thrust and pull turns feverish and frenzied again when we start chasing
our orgasms, racing one another to the finish line.
So close, I think, I’m so close, as Stella arches her back, holding herself up with one arm as she brings her right hand between us to slowly stroke the beautiful bundle of nerves nestled at the apex of her thighs while we dangle together on the precipice.
I feel the waves begin crashing over her. I focus on the moans escaping her throat and follow right behind as her orgasm sets off a chain reaction inside me. Holding her waist, I slam my hips into her as that telling tingling sensation creeps up my back and the final swell and eruption shudders through me, my body throbbing and pulsing with the release.
I pull her tightly to me, afraid to let go or pull away from her body.
Stella’s lips find mine, they find my stubbled jaw, my earlobe, my neck ... and I feel like I’m finally home with her in my arms.
My heart is still pounding when she looks up at me, a content smile on her face.
“Bed?” I ask, because I don’t want her to leave tonight. I want to hold onto her.
“Snuggling?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Then take me to bed.”
Stella
Chapter Eighteen
I pull Brian’s dirty Indians jersey over my head and find my panties, slipping them up my shaky legs, while he tugs his boxer briefs back into place. I don’t think they made it down past his knees.
Sex has never been like that for me — fast and slow, giving and wanting. My cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling. It’s the first real smile I’ve had on my face since the last time I spent time with Brian.
Maybe he’s the common denominator in my happiness, to reminding me who I am.
Brushing aside the thought, I catch his eye again. We keep sneaking glances at one another in our hurried attempt to get dressed and upstairs.
And do so as quietly as possible.
“You don’t think we woke him, do you?” I ask in a hushed voice because my paranoia is certainly taking its toll on me now.
How could we have been so stupid? I think to myself. Britt is sound asleep a floor away and Brian and I just went after each other like a pair of hormone-driven teenagers. In his bathroom, with the door open.
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