Play Fling

by Amber Scott

  Elliott was here.

  A soft moan escaped her. Her back arched.

  He seemed far away, like in a tunnel. He seemed to be taking forever to get to her side. He didn’t look very pleased from what she could discern of his expression in the shadow and distance. The wide doorway seemed to tilt a bit. She braced herself backward, a wave of nausea-laced dizziness hitting her full force, suppressing the arousal.

  She bit down to stop from crying out. What if he didn’t get here? What if she was hallucinating? How could Millie have done this to her? Not just the drug. Everything. Brooke didn’t know what to believe and what not to at this point and if someone didn’t come back bedside, she might fall into the blackness again.

  Closing her eyes, she focused on her breathing. The sweep of cool air in through her nostrils, out warm through her mouth. She counted down from ten. He should be here by now. Here, at her side. No hall could take so long. She didn’t dare open her eyes, though, not until the blackness edged away.

  Once it did, the lust rushed back. Her toes tingled and her legs ached to dance over the crisp sheets. Her nipples hardened and it took all her effort not to palm each breast, graze over them, squeezing, massaging.

  A small groan escaped her. This was pure torture. The heat, the need. She needed Elliott. His touch, his scent—she could almost smell it now, she craved him so bad.

  “Brooke,” he said, soft in her ear.

  She shuddered with the sheer pleasure of the sound of him. Elliott? Was she dreaming again? She forced her eyes open, dreading the disappointment to come.

  His chiseled face filled her vision. She reached out, touched his stubbly cheek. Real. Really real. “Elliott. You’re here.”

  He leaned into her hand. “I’m here.”

  A throat cleared. Brooke couldn’t unglue her eyes from him, though. Relief saturated her senses, soothed the nausea of the drug.

  “Sorry to interrupt.” It was AJ. “Millie needs to steal Elliott for just a moment.”

  Brooke’s body jerked. Every fiber of her being screamed no. All she could do was shake her head.

  “Don’t worry,” Elliott said, his gaze intent. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  AJ took his place. Footsteps faded away. She couldn’t focus. Her ankle throbbed.

  “I don’t have much time to tell you this, so I need you to try to focus,” AJ said, his gaze intent.

  Brooke cringed. She didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. He’d only defend Millie and she just couldn’t stomach thinking about what she’d almost lost because of her so-called friend. She’d trusted her. Loved her like a sister. Again, she shook her head.

  “You’ll likely never see Millie again.” AJ’s voice was steady and quiet. “But, in time, if you allow yourself to, you’ll understand she did what she had to do. She had only your best interest at heart. It won’t mean you have to condone her methods. You don’t. Perhaps you shouldn’t. What it means is that….” He looked down, brow drawn. “It means that she had no other choice and did what she did for love.”

  “That makes no sense.” Brooke didn’t want it to either. She didn’t want him standing there trying to help her understand or soothe her.

  “It may not now, but one day….”

  The nausea left her. All that remained was want. She wanted Elliott. Before Millie did anything to take him away. Her head swam with everything Millie had admitted to. The makeover, the research, even blackmail and drugging her. Millie had claimed to be Cupid for God’s sake! Now AJ expected her to what? Feel sorry for her?

  Try to understand that Millie was a lunatic at worst and a rotten person at best? Elliott came back before Brooke could voice the disgust rising within her. Her lust for him returned, invading all thought.

  AJ left the empty bed-lined room. From the corner of her eye, Brooke saw Millie join him past the door and walk away as well. Then all Brooke could see was Elliott. Gorgeous, delicious Elliott. Except he didn’t look very happy to be here anymore.

  “What is it?” she said, panic surfacing. “What’s the matter?”

  “That depends,” he said and crossed his arms. “Should I believe a word that comes out of Millie’s mouth?”

  Brooke felt sick. “Why? What did she say?”

  “In so many words, she said if we don’t find some privacy, you’ll be in sorry shape.”

  “She drugged me.”

  “So she said. Does that mean you believe her?”

  “I just mean that I don’t know how well I can trust my senses. My body wants your touch more than I can describe right now. It’s all I can think about.”

  “Do you love me, Brooke?”

  His bluntness only heightened her lust. And her panic. Even if she tried, she couldn’t reach him, he stood so far away. “Yes.”

  He looked at the ceiling, but she still saw the pain in his eyes. “When did you realize?”

  The ache for him, oh, God, it was so strong. Why couldn’t he just come closer? “I’m not really sure. Tonight…I think.”

  “Tonight, huh?” He blinked. He shook his head. “Well, Brooke, I loved you from the moment you walked into Shope’s office.” He looked at her now, his eyes shiny. “That day, for one tiny moment, before you knew that I was Shope’s teaching assistant, you looked at me like you couldn’t believe your lucky stars. Like you’d found something you had lost and had been looking for for a long time.”

  Brooke could remember that moment, too. She’d felt exactly as he’d described. But she didn’t know what right thing to say. “What did Millie tell you?”

  “It doesn’t matter. What matters is exactly what I asked. I need to know exactly when you fell in love with me.” She reached for him. If she could have just one touch.

  He shook his head. “You can’t be sure, can you?”

  Fear poured through her. Of course she could be sure. It wasn’t the drug that made her love him. She’d known it, felt it long before. Hadn’t she? The drug only helped her accept her feelings for him.

  The nurse returned and ushered Elliott aside.

  As though to make things harder, Brooke’s eyes fluttered shut. A pang shot through her. She couldn’t pass out. Not now. She forced them back open and sought out Elliott’s gaze. He wouldn’t look at her.

  “We need an x-ray,” the nurse said, kicking the bed brake.

  Brooke couldn’t lose him. But what did he want her to say? She hunted for the words inside, desperate. Then a deep weight in her shifted and, like a tuft on the wind, something let go of her.

  Elliott’s eyes met hers. The nurse pushed her bed. “Wait!”

  The nurse paused. “Alright, lovebirds. You’ve got five minutes,” the nurse grumbled, leaving them.

  Brooke watched Elliott. “Today,” she said. “At the yard sale.”

  Ever so slightly, his head cocked down. Yet he didn’t look at her.

  Brooke plunged on. “I fell in love with you somewhere in the beginning. I can’t say exactly when because it all blends in with this want for you that I can’t seem to contain. But, today, at the yard sale? When you got the box, the one you gave me, that’s when I truly knew.” If he would just look at her, he’d see how much she loved him. “I was too scared to admit it to myself, Elliott. But I knew.” She paused, swallowing. “I was terrified. Because being in love with you meant I could be exposed to all sorts of gossip and ridicule.”

  His gaze moved to hers, the hesitation in them showing even from the five feet separating them. “To hell with what people think,” he said.

  “Yes. I know you’re right. But that wasn’t what scared me most of all.” Brooke’s throat tightened. “What scared me—what scares me now—is how much I love you. I’ve never felt like this before, Elliott. I’ve never felt so exposed to hurt and joy and a hundred other emotions I can’t even name yet.”

  A sort of glow lit his expression. He looked down, nodding.

  She needed him, to feel him, to see that look in his eyes again, that told her she hadn’t los
t him.

  “Elliott,” she pleaded, reaching for him. “You have to know what I say is true. You have to believe me.”

  The nurse returned, glanced at each of them, then rolled her eyes before leaving again, muttering. Brooke hardly noticed. Why wouldn’t Elliott look up? The hum in her veins ebbed and swelled in waves of need.

  “Elliott, please.” What more could she say? “I need you,” she said softly.

  Elliott’s shoulders heaved. Brooke frowned. Was he crying?

  His chuckle echoed off the metal cabinets. “It was the fanny pack, wasn’t it?”

  He looked at her then, his eyes glassy.

  Brooke laughed, nodded. “Definitely.”

  He walked to her and it was all she could do to stop from tumbling over the edge of her bed to meet him.

  Yes, it was the god-awful fanny pack, and the shirt and the trucker hat. It was the books instead of flowers and how he’d forced herself to see who she really was. No one, not anyone she could think of, had ever really seen her for her. Past the safe façade, beyond the strived for perfection. The warts of her insecurities. Elliott embraced all of her, had since the beginning.

  “I thought it might be,” he said, his voice thick as he reached her side. “Is there any room for me?”

  Brooke gulped. “Yes. Absolutely.” Parts of her she never knew existed shivered for him. “Room in my heart, in my life, everything. Everywhere.”

  He chuckled again and trailed a finger down her cheek. Brooke leaned into the tickling heat. “I meant on the bed,” he said.

  Brooke flushed. “Oh. Yes. Of course there is.” She scooted over.

  Careful not to disturb her leg, Elliott joined her, drawing her close. From her shins to her shoulders, he pressed his hard body to hers. And with every inch, relief soothed every fiber of her being. Brooke sighed over it, closing her eyes, breathing it in. Exquisite relief…and pleasure.

  Uh-oh.

  “Um…I think I should warn you,” Brooke said, detesting the tremble in her voice. “I might begin begging for things.”

  His scent enveloped her senses, woodsy and clean and so masculine. She inhaled it deep into her lungs. His hand stroked her cheek. Hot sensation shimmied down her spine. Her thighs tingled with unwarranted anticipation. “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, no?” Elliott grinned, his gaze fixed to hers. “Never. And you’ll never have to beg….” His husky voice sent heat through her. “Much.”

  Someone could return at any moment, that nurse, the doctor! He had no business insinuating anything could happen. The sensations consumed her, though. She nodded. “Yes, I can beg.” Brooke swallowed. “I like saying please. Please kiss me. Please don’t stop, please—”

  Elliott’s mouth met hers, swift and hard. She whimpered as pleasure shot through her body, satisfying the torrent of sensation, but encouraging it all at once. She gasped against his lips. He kissed her more deeply, his arms encircling her, yet roving over her body. Her need expanded, then gathered into her depths. She pressed as closely as her body would allow.

  “Brooke,” he groaned, moving his attention to her neckline, his hands up to her breasts. He cupped both mounds, teasing thumbs over her nipples. A shockwave burst through her. She gave a small cry.

  “Shhh,” he said, his hands going lower.

  She arched into his touch, pleasure lifting her awareness. Her core moistened, sensing his approach. Then his hands were gone. He moved off the bed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “We can’t do this. Not here, not like this,” he whispered, disappearing past the doorway.

  Brooke sat up, straining to hear his conversation with her nurse, but she couldn’t decipher the words. He returned a moment later, the nurse behind him. Fifteen minutes later, Brooke was discharged.

  Elliott lifted her into his arms, carrying her with ease. “I don’t understand, how did you…?”

  “I have my ways. Now, let’s get out of here before they change their minds.” He winked down at her. The cold air hit her as the exit doors slid open. “Can you walk?” he asked.

  She shook her head. He carried her to a bench, set her gingerly down and got his car. He placed her inside and drove. The downtown lights twinkled across the valley floor, the moon hung as a sliver. He took corners slowly and didn’t rush, no matter how many empty stop signs they hit. Anticipation, elation, rushed through Brooke with each slamming beat of her heart.

  How in the world was it possible that he loved her? But he did. He loved her.

  He pulled up to his driveway, then had her back in his arms in record time. Brooke’s body reacted, heating fast, despite her mind screaming for her to keep it together. Her body didn’t care and by the feel of things, neither did Elliott’s. Ever so carefully, he strode up the stairs and laid her on his bed.

  Her breathing grew to panting as she watched him move. He tugged off his jacket, pulled his shirt off. His chest dipped in a deep valley between his pecs. Brooke nearly groaned as he kneeled next to her. He lightly kissed her, then moved away, lighting the room with candles. She lay spellbound, unable to speak, only feel. Finally he joined her on the bed, and began undressing her.

  His eyes spoke of his passion, but he tugged at her clothing with patient purpose. One pant leg, another. Her sweater, her bra. Her panties. His hands trailed after her clothing while his gaze held to hers. She twitched and writhed and gasped, but loved every second of excruciating need building inside her.

  “Brooke,” he whispered, kissing her neck. “I love you.”

  Her hips twitched. God, his voice was like liquid sex. “I love you, too.”

  He stood up, unbuttoned his jeans and let them fall past his naked hips. The muscles at his lower waist cast shadows, directing her gaze downward to his naked, hard cock.

  Brooke’s mouth watered.

  “You’ve got me so hot,” Elliott said, easing onto the bed next to her. “I won’t be able to last long.”

  She wouldn’t either. Brooke had gone beyond speaking. His skin melded too perfectly to hers and the heat and need was dizzying. Brooke clung to him, following his lead as he moved over her, nudging her thighs open.

  As he touched the tip of his swollen cock to her wet heat, Brooke cried out. His thick length slipped deep inside of her, sending a riot of pleasure quaking through her limbs. “Oh my God!”

  Elliott rained kisses over her face, pausing. Brooke opened her eyes. This moment, him inside of her, wanting her, was perfection. Nothing else mattered. Brooke let go.

  Elliott pressed deeply into her, holding her close, kissing her, grinding. Her moan of ecstasy caught in her throat. He thrust into her, deep and hard. She tilted her hips, met his body.

  “Brooke,” he gasped, sending tingles racing down her neck. Her pleasure coiled tighter.

  “Elliott,” she breathed, burying her face against him, disappearing into her sweet bliss, licking and tasting his salty skin. She gripped him, hearing her name again, climax rocking through her, throbbing out in wet, pulsing waves. She cried out, again and again.

  Elliott grunted, slamming into her depths, then went still. She felt him throb as he came into her, his body jerking, telling her his completion equaled hers. Satisfaction bloomed through her most primal self. He loved her.

  Breathing hard, Elliott slid to her side and enfolded her into his arms.

  The hum in Brooke’s veins subsided and she realized she felt like herself again. Only better. Refreshed and alive. Loved and in love. Elliott kissed her forehead, then sank back.

  “I may fall asleep on you.” He yawned. “If I do….”

  “Not to worry,” she said, nuzzling his chest. “I’m about to, too. Just promise me you’ll be here when I wake up.”

  He crossed his fingers over his heart and sleepily grinned.

  His sigh lifted his chest and her head with it, reminding her of a large cat. He shifted his head against the pillow. Brooke’s heart beat quietly now. The sounds were like a quiet symphony mirroring a new calm in her hear
t, new hope in her soul.

  Gratitude overwhelmed her. She wasn’t sure who she could thank for finally finding Elliott, or for the courage she found to face her fears and love him. All of the events and mishaps and heartaches, all seemed like little puzzle pieces only now fitting together.

  Elliott would be here for her. A sticky mess of ending friendship awaited her when this night dawned, but she wouldn’t think about Millie right now. For now Brooke would only revel in this new, surreal bliss. She closed her eyes, nestled deeper into Elliott’s warm hold and sent a prayer up, out, into the ether.

  To whoever is listening… to whoever helped me along the way… thank you. For him, for this, for all of it… thank you more than words can ever possibly say.

  Epilogue

  Millie held her breath, averting her head, but keeping her gaze on Brooke, a blur in elegant white, making her way down the lobby corridor. A chandelier lit the train of her dress and the gold in Brooke’s hair. Millie’s chest squeezed.

  “Breathe, Millie,” AJ urged at her side. “She can’t see you from here and you don’t exactly look like yourself in that wig. She won’t recognize you.”

  Millie knew he was right. She let the air in her lungs whoosh out. The sigh fell flat among the chiming slot machines but it felt damned good. She straightened a little. Brooke wouldn’t be looking for her, after all. Not here, not today, after so long. How could a year have passed already?

  Millie still hardly believed Brooke had done it. She’d actually eloped with Elliott to Las Vegas. Millie never would have considered it of the old Brooke she knew. But it was true. AJ brought her here to witness what she could, to secretly share on the outskirts of what she’d helped create. Real, true love. Millie had even lost her first gold bracelet and if that wasn’t proof, AJ standing at her side definitely was.

  She’d finally made a match.

  Happiness and sorrow swelled inside of her. She hadn’t admitted how much she’d missed her friend all these months. Now, the hurt clenched her heart, making her eyes sting.