by T L Swan
A frown crosses his face. “For?”
“For not being demanding and obnoxious yesterday.”
Our drinks arrive. “Here you go. I have a salted margarita and a Corona.”
“Thank you.” We both smile as we take them from him.
Brock sips his beer and frowns. “Do you think I’m demanding and obnoxious all the time?”
“No.” I sip my drink. “God, this is good.” I gesture to my glass. “But sometimes you can be,” I add.
“Like when?”
“Like when you demanded I call Simon in front of you.”
His eyes hold mine for a moment.
“What?” I ask.
He shrugs. “It’s hard for me to deal with an ex on the scene when I’ve never—”
“When you’ve never had one?” I cut in.
“Yeah. I guess.” He drinks his beer and then places it back on the table. “I just don’t know if you’ll go back to him one day.”
I take the hand he is resting on my thigh. “Would it bother you if I did?”
He nods, and his face falls serious.
I smile softly. “I like this person.”
He frowns.
I cup his face and lean over to kiss him. “I like this person who is with me here tonight.”
“What do you mean?” He frowns.
“Why aren’t you like this all the time with me?”
“Like what?”
“Gentle and understanding.” I smile.
“I don’t know why I’m the way I am. I have this raging temper that… I don’t know. I fly off the handle and can’t control myself until it’s too late.”
“Too late?” I frown. “Is that why you’ve never had a girlfriend because of your temper?”
He smiles and then breaks into a chuckle. “Fuck, no, I never cared about a woman enough to lose my temper with them.”
“So, why have you lost it with me numerous times?” I frown.
His eyes search mine, and I know he’s trying to tell me that he cares.
I could push him to say it, but he doesn’t probably even realise it himself yet.
“What do you mean by too late?” I ask. “When have you lost your temper and it’s been too late?”
His face falls serious, with eyes glancing across the restaurant to avoid mine. Brock takes a swig of his beer. “I killed my father with my temper.”
I freeze at once. “What?”
He stares at the floor in front of him for a moment and I can see he’s right back there reliving it.
“My sister was dating someone I didn’t approve of.” He pauses, taking in a breath. “I lost my shit and attacked him at my parents’ house.”
My heart sinks.
“We had a fight, and my father tried to break us up.” He into the distance and pauses again, the story obviously hard for him to speak of. “He had a massive heart attack on the spot.”
I squeeze his hand in mine. “Brock,” I whisper, pained for him.
“My cousin Cameron was there and was just out of med school. He tried to save him in the back of the ambulance with defibrillators.”
Brock sips his beer again, his eyes void of emotion, and I feel sick as I imagine the horror of what it must have been like to be there on that day.
“He died anyway,” he tells me sadly. “It fucked Cameron up for a long time, too. My father was the first patient he ever lost.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “And you still blame yourself?”
“Every day.”
I drop my head and think for a moment. I don’t know what to say.
“Every time I watch my sisters and my mother cry over my father’s absence, I die a little inside.”
I get a lump in my throat. “Brock.”
His sad eyes come up to meet mine. I know that was a big deal for him to tell me that. I know it’s probably something that he would usually guard closely. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For showing me what’s underneath your temper.” I pick up his hand and gently kiss the back of it.
His eyes search mine.
“We can work with your temper, baby,” I kiss his hand again, “if you give me this side of yourself more often. We can work with anything.”
He looks so lost in this conversation and being open with me, I can tell that statement meant a lot to him. He just has no idea how to verbalise it yet. I get up and go around to his side of the table to sit on his lap. I wrap my arms arounds his neck and kiss him tenderly, our lips hovering over each other’s. I wish we were alone right now. I need to change the subject and not make a big deal out of what he just told me.
“Did you know that I have next week off work?”
“You do?” He smiles, seeming grateful for my change of topic.
“Yep.” I shake my head. “I was supposed to be going to Hawaii.”
“You were going to Hawaii?” He frowns.
“Yeah, but I cancelled it last week.”
“How come?”
“You’re not the only idiot around here.” I sigh, and he smiles, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “The girl I was going with pulled out a few weeks ago, but then last week, when I was freaking out, I cancelled my trip, too.”
“Why were you freaking out?”
“Over you.” I push his hair back from his forehead and kiss him. “Told you I was an idiot.”
He chuckles and bites my shoulder, making me jump. “How is this my fault? Why would you cancel a trip because of me?” He looks up at me, and he’s so damn beautiful I could just bite him back.
The waiter arrives with our food, so I get up and go back to my side of the table. “Can you tell him to stop pulling me onto his lap, please? It’s very distracting,” I ask the waiter sweetly as I pull my chair in.
The two of them chuckle, and the waiter places our huge bowls of nachos in front of us. “Will that be all?”
“Two more drinks, please,” Brock tells him.
“Of course, and please stay off his lap, miss,” he jokes before he disappears again.
I dig into my nachos, pushing one loaded with salsa into my mouth, and then I smile mischievously over at Brock.
“You didn’t answer me?” he reminds me.
“Oh.” I stuff another nacho into my mouth. “Because I was feeling all clingy and attached to you.” I roll my eyes. “And I knew I wanted to be with you, but I felt too guilty to end it with Simon.” I shrug. “It just all seemed too hard.”
He frowns, chewing on his food. “But why would you cancel a trip because of that?”
“I didn’t want to leave you, dummy,” I mutter dryly. “Clingy and attached means clingy and attached.”
He smirks, and then his smirk turns into a grin, his grin soon turning into a huge beaming smile.
His smile is contagious, and I giggle as I continue to eat. “What?”
“Clingy and attached?”
“Don’t.” I smirk. “I know how pathetic it sounds, even to me.”
His eyes twinkle in delight.
I roll mine. “You know how I changed the subject for you before?”
He smiles.
“You need to change the subject now for me. It’s your turn to take the heat off me.”
He rolls his lips and narrows his eyes at me as he pretends to think of something to say. “Hmm.” He shakes his head. “Nope, I’ve got nothing that will distract us from the fact that you’re being clingy and attached.”
My mouth falls open as I fake shock. “Stop saying it out loud,” I whisper.
“Nope.” He throws another nacho into his mouth. The waiter walks past. “Excuse me,” Brock calls to him.
The waiter turns back. “Yes, sir.”
Brock points to me. “She’s feeling clingy and attached to me.”
The waiter breaks into a broad smile, his eyes flicking between us. “Ah.” He nods. “That explains why she won’t stay off your lap then.” He turns and walks off.
“Exactly.�
�� Brock smirks as he throws another chip into his mouth, his eyes dancing with mischief as he watches me.
I sip my drink. “Just hurry up and eat your dinner so you can take me home and do obscene things to my body. I’m just using you for sex, you know?”
Brock swigs his beer. “Your wish is my command. Tonight, your stage name shall be Miss Cock Pocket.”
I choke on my drink. “Well, at least it isn’t Princess Pussy Porridge,” I splutter.
He tries to swig his beer and then breaks out into a low chuckle.
“Where do you get this shit?” I giggle.
He shrugs. “It’s my hidden talent.”
Two hours later, the room is filled with steam when Brock bends and slowly slides my pants down to the floor. We’re in his bathroom, and the night has taken an unexpected turn.
I feel close to him. Whatever this is between us, it feels intimate.
He opened up a little, and while I know it’s far from everything I need from him, it’s definitely a start. He leans in and kisses my sex, and then rises and slowly pops open the buttons on my work shirt. My heart is beating fast in my chest and my breath quivers in anticipation. He takes my hardened nipple into his mouth, biting it as his two hands roam up and down my body. I know he’s been looking forward to this as well. My hands run through his hair. I can feel my sex throbbing in anticipation. I can’t take it, I need him naked. I slide his T-shirt up over his head, and my hands drift across his large chest and over his shoulders. His dark eyes hold mine before our lips collide. He sucks on my mouth with just the right amount of pressure and I feel my legs go weak beneath me.
I run my fingers down his rippled abdomen and slowly slide them down to undo his jeans. I pull them down and he kicks them off, leaving me free to slide my hand up his thick shaft and stroke a few times as we kiss. Pre-ejaculate beads, and I slide my hand over the end to smear it down his length.
He inhales sharply. “Shower,” he says low and commanding. “I need you in bed.” Our kiss turns desperate as his hand slides through my wet sex and slides three fingers into me. I wince from his aggression.
“I need this beautiful creamy cunt around my cock. Now.”
He pulls me under the water and pins me against the wall. His hard cock slides back and forth up over my stomach as he takes the soap and carefully washes me.
Our lips stay locked, his hand roaming all over my body, through my sex, and then to my behind. My mind goes back to the first day he took me and how he said he was wired to do things that way. He hasn’t touched me there since, and I hate to admit it, but I’m aching for it.
Aching for him to show me what he wants.
Aching to please him.
I take the soap from him and wash his large body, enjoying the way he’s looking down at me. The hot water is running down over his head and knowing that I’m the only thing he sees or wants just might be enough to set me on fire. His eyes are dark, his big lips are a bruised shade of red, and his square jaw carries a two-day growth. I’ve never seen anyone so gorgeous in my life.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispers, almost to himself, as he cups my jaw in his hands, his dark eyes hold mine.
“Oh God,” I pant. “Brock.”
“Out,” he commands. He steps out of the shower and holds a towel out to wrap me in. He dries me and leads me into the bedroom where we stand at the end of the bed and kiss for a moment.
The perfect kiss amongst all of the chaos. It’s his kiss that brings me back to him.
“Show me,” I mumble against his lips. “Show me how to please you.”
His eyes flicker with a dangerous level of arousal, and my stomach flips with nervous excitement.
“You want me to show you?”
I nod.
He licks his lips and lifts his chin, bringing a soft smile to my face.
That’s his satisfied look. His chin rises when he’s pleased.
“Kneel,” he whispers.
I swallow the lump in my throat and drop to my knees instantly. Brock walks around me slowly.
“Legs farther apart.”
My eyes rise up to him.
“Do it.” He growls.
I shuffle to widen my legs apart and, once again, his chin lifts in approval. He puts his thumb under my bottom lip and pulls my mouth open.
“I’m going to fuck your mouth, Pocket, and I’m going to blow my load down your throat.”
I swallow quietly, trying to control my fear.
“Okay?” He raises a brow, and I know that wasn’t a question; it was a dare.
I nod.
“Answer me.”
“Yes, Brock,” I whisper, overwhelmed by the power he’s omitting. I haven’t seen him like this before. Only snippets of his sexual aggression have ever come into play.
He puts his thumb just under my bottom lip and pulls my mouth wide open again, and he slowly slides his thick shaft across my lips, smearing the pre-ejaculate across my tongue. His dark eyes follow his cock, fascinated.
Christ almighty, this is off the hook.
He pulls my mouth open wider and slides his cock straight down my throat, forcing me to gag.
“Open your throat.”
“I…” I hesitate.
“You what?”
“I don’t think I can take all of you. You’re too…”
Brock puts his hand on the back of my head and pushes me forward. “Learn.”
Oh jeez, what have I gotten myself into here?
I close my eyes and try to calm myself down as he slowly slides out and then back in again. He moans softly and it spurs me on. He does it again, and this time his hand tenderly pushes my hair back from my forehead, his eyes finding mine. “That’s it, Pock,” he whispers.
I feel a rush of cream to my sex and I begin to throb. I rub my legs together to try and tame the fire down there.
“You want my cock, baby?” he asks.
I nod around him.
“You can have it soon.” He pushes down my throat and I feel him swell in my mouth. He’s close. He pushes harder, grabbing my head in his hands and slowly riding my open mouth. He tips his head back, looking up to the ceiling.
“Fuck.” He moans. “You have no idea how fucking hot you look right now.”
Oh God, I love this. I love bringing him undone like this.
He goes harder, and I gag again. He stills. “Stop thinking.”
I hesitate.
“Take me.”
I nod again, and he pulls out to kiss me. His lips suck on mine with just enough pressure to drive me wild, and he dusts my face with the backs of his fingers.
He slides his cock back in, and this time it’s as if he has no control. He grabs my hair in his hands aggressively and begins to ride my mouth. “Fuck, yeah.” He hisses.
I smile around him, spurred on by his arousal.
In, out, in, out. I bare my teeth and his head tips back. I feel a hard jerk and then I taste his salty arousal as it slides down my throat.
I drink it down.
His body convulses as he empties himself deep down in my throat, and I watch him slowly come back to Earth.
He has this glow. His body is covered in a perfect sheen of perspiration. I’ve never seen anything more perfect. I run my hand up his behind, kissing his lower stomach tenderly as he pulls out. Brock stills and holds my head close to his body for a moment. I look up at him in question. His haunted eyes search mine.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper as he pulls me to my feet.
He runs his fingertips down my face. “Nothing, baby,” he whispers before kissing me. His eyes close as he tastes his own arousal in my mouth, and then he slowly seems to regain his focus.
He walks to his bedside and takes out a box of condoms.
“I don’t want that,” I say.
“You don’t want what?”
“Have you always used condoms?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve only ever had one partner apart from you.”
“If we’re only going to be with each other from now on, I don’t want you to wear a condom.”
He hesitates as he stares at me.
“I’m on the pill.”
Fear flashes across his face. “I don’t want a baby, Tully. I’m not ready for any accidents.”
“I know.” I walk over and kiss him as my hands drop to his behind. “Trust me.”
He frowns as our lips meet.
“Trust me,” I repeat.
I can see his internal struggle with this. God, he’s never trusted a woman enough to do this.
“If I’m trusting you not to hurt me, you can trust me not to trap you,” I tell him. I can’t believe I’m begging for this. “I want all of you inside of me.”
He drops his head and stills for a moment. What the hell? This is a really big deal for him.
“How do you want me?” I whisper.
His eyes hold mine, and I can tell he’s still not sure if he wants to risk coming inside of me. “On your knees on the bed,” he says devoid of emotion.
I kneel on the bed, bending over to rest on my elbows so that my behind is in the air, waiting for him. Brock inhales sharply and runs his fingers over my back entrance, remaining silent.
Oh fuck. I close my eyes and drop my head at the feel his tongue there.
I hold my breath. Oh. Dear. God. I try to move forward but he grabs my hip bones and yanks me back onto his face, his stubble burning my cheeks.
Fuck.
He licks me while his four fingers slide through the swollen lips of my sex.
I’m so wet it’s ridiculous. The sounds of my wet arousal and my shallow breaths are the only things to be heard.
With his tongue lapping at my back entrance, he slides three fingers into my sex and I moan when he presses my back and pushes me down onto the mattress aggressively.