Sweet in Love

by Lee, Nadia

  Brooke looked behind her and noticed what he was looking at. It was a black stone shaped like an Oriental fan. On it were golden Korean characters. “Oh, just a decoration I got from somebody.” One of the church ladies had given it to her.

  “What does it say?”

  “It’s scripture.”

  Pete tilted his head. “You’re Christian?”

  “Of the lapsed variety. I used to go because my grandmother went. She was really into all that, just like other Korean immigrants in the neighborhood, and since she raised us after Mom died we all had to go. Well, except Dad since he doesn’t speak Korean.”

  “I didn’t know you could speak it.”

  “I do, though only with my sister and her husband these days. They’re the good Christians. My sister’s even trying to drag me there at the end of the month. It’s going to be ‘special’ or something.”

  “Special? Isn’t it a little early for Easter?”

  “No, there’s this new lady who joined the church.” Brooke made a face. “And she has a son who’s single and a doctor. Supposedly, he’s coming to check out the church.” She twirled the last mouthful of spaghetti around her fork. “My sister thinks I should go check him out.”

  Pete chortled as he got up to carry the empty plates to the kitchen. “Seriously? She wants you to go to church to hook up?”

  “Oh, you have no idea. It’s the biggest social scene for Korean immigrants.” She joined him in the kitchen and rinsed the dishes as he loaded them into the dishwasher. “No bars or clubs, but church each and every week. It’s a pretty big deal. That’s how people stay plugged in.”

  “It’s just a little odd, thinking about church as a…meat market.”

  “Tell me about it. Detergent’s under the sink.”

  Shaking his head, Pete dumped a generous amount of powder into the dispenser and started the machine.

  She sighed. “You can stop laughing.” Then suddenly she peered at him. “Aren’t you jealous at all?”

  He straightened up. “I might perhaps possibly be slightly jealous…but I’m not worried.”

  “Sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “Sure of us.” His eyes were dark, intensely focused. She could see the outline of his erection in his impeccably tailored dress pants. “Besides, Mr. Mystery Doctor can’t do this if you guys are in church.”

  He stepped in and cradled her head like she was the most precious, priceless thing in the world and kissed her. She closed her eyes, putting her hands over his. He was so hard and strong, it seemed like he was some kind of polar opposite of her.

  She melted against him, her body languid, her limbs heavy and weak. The previous encounter in his office had stoked her need already, and she felt her body respond eagerly. She knew they were going to do it, and suddenly, it felt so right that they’d consummate what they’d started eight years ago.

  He raised his head just long enough to murmur, “Bedroom,” and returned to kissing her. She slow-dance turned him around the corner of the counter and led him down the hall, her feet taking small backward steps, never breaking the kiss. When they got to the bedroom door, she reached behind her, fumbled the knob open and dragged him in.

  Pete picked her up, cradling her, and moved to her bed where he placed her in the middle with care. She rose to her knees and started pulling away at her top, her eyes holding his.

  He watched her strip like she was a goddess he couldn’t stop worshipping. She undid her slim silver belt and tossed it on the carpet. Then she shimmied out of her mini skirt. When only a tiny red thong remained, he groaned. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

  She grinned at him saucily. “Your turn.”

  He unbuttoned his shirt, front and cuffs, in three seconds flat and tossed it behind him. The pants received the same rough and unceremonious treatment. When he dropped his underwear, his erection sprang forward. She gasped at the size and shape. She’d felt it through his clothes earlier, but seeing it fully unveiled was something else. She licked her lips.

  She raised her gaze in invitation, and he came to her, his strong arms wrapping around her torso. The hair on his chest grazed her nipples, and she inhaled sharply at the sensation.

  “You are so beautiful and soft,” he whispered against her neck. Her skin tingled. “Even better than my imagination.”

  “I’m glad,” she whispered back, pulling him closer, then twisting until he fell on the bed beneath her. She straddled him. “You’re pretty gorgeous yourself.” She traced his torso with the tips of her fingernails, leaving eight slightly reddish lines behind. There was so much power in his body, in all those muscles. He was different from her memory—larger, darker, slightly more polished around the edges, stronger, leaner. She liked the marked difference and the fact that all of it clearly signaled that he was now a fully grown man.

  One who wanted her more than anything.

  She pressed her lips along the red lines her nails created. His skin had a hint of salt, an arousing scent of musk and wood.

  “If you keep teasing me…” he warned.

  “Who’s teasing? This is for real.” She moved down. He put a hand on her arm to pull her up, but she shook her head. “Don’t. Let me enjoy you.”

  Chapter Seven

  PETE HAD EVERY INTENTION of stopping her, to prolong the moment and make her feel as good as she was making him feel, but he let go.

  What man could say no to “Let me enjoy you”?

  She moved carefully, her lips deliberate and thorough, as she explored his body. He swallowed and reined in himself. He would not lose control. He’d waited eight years for this, and he’d make it good—no, fabulous—for both of them.

  Her mouth kissed his inner thighs, gently and softly, while her fingers stroked his shaft. He breathed out and his cock jerked, desperate for more.

  She laughed, the sound sultry.

  A little dare.

  He linked his fingers with hers and flipped her over. She looked beautiful underneath him, her face flushed with passion. He kissed her hard while working her panties off, wanting to make love to her until both of their minds shattered, but at the same time wanting to make it last forever.

  Her breathing grew rough, and her fingers tightened. He kept their fingers linked, spreading her arms out, and trailed kisses along her shoulders and the soft outline of her breasts. They weren’t large, but they were perfect because they belonged to Brooke.

  She shuddered a breath as his lips grazed closer to her pointed nipple. He could sense her thundering heartbeat beneath her ribcage. His cheek pressed over her chest, and soon his heart seemed to beat in sync as though they were one. He rounded his lips and blew over her nipple and felt her body tremble. Then he sucked the nipple into his mouth, loving the sweet taste of her flesh.

  Her legs spread and wrapped around him. She was so hot and wet, and he groaned, his need for her shredding his control.

  “I want you,” she said, her voice passion-sweet.

  He pulled away from her nipple. It glistened, and he lavished the same care on its twin until her back arched. Her grip tightened, and he loved the pain her desire brought.

  “Pete.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I have something to tell you, and I want you to listen really, really carefully, okay? Because this is important.”

  Pete pulled back slightly and raised his gaze to her eyes. “Okay.”

  “I’m on the pill.”

  A woman after his own heart. With exquisite slowness, he pushed himself into her. Her head lolled to the side, eyes closed and kiss-swollen lips parted. He looked at her intently as he sank into her without any barrier between them. He wanted to remember this moment forever, commit every line and sigh to memory.

  “Look at me, Brooke,” he whispered.

  She opened her eyes. Holding her gaze, he moved inside her, wanting to connect to her in the most fundamental way possible. Sex was great—no, fabulous—but he needed more than just physical release from her, from this momen
t.

  Brooke clenched her inner muscles, and he hissed at the unbelievable sensation. He pumped in and out. She angled her hips for maximum penetration, then met him stroke for stroke. She wasn’t coy in the slightest, but demanding, knowing exactly what she wanted from him. He gave it to her, gave her everything he could as a man. He felt her tighten, her face contorted with passion.

  Suddenly, her entire body tensed, and she arched her back, screaming out her satisfaction. Her legs tightened around him, and he couldn’t hold back any longer as pleasure seared through his body. His hands still linked with hers, he shuddered with the most powerful orgasm he’d ever experienced.

  “My god,” she moaned after a moment.

  He collapsed beside her and kissed her cheek. “Told you this was a good idea.”

  He felt her lips curve against his neck. Then, happier and more content than he had been in a long time, he relaxed, lying with her, until sleep claimed him.

  * * *

  Brooke watched Pete doze. She couldn’t believe how amazing the sex had been, how connected she’d felt to him when he was inside her. Not that she’d lived some kind of romance novel cliché of having a bunch of crappy lovers until she met her one and only. Most of her exes had been competent enough. They’d done what they could to make her happy while they were dating, but this…this was on a whole new level.

  Pete was the only one who’d ever bothered to learn her secret dreams. And the only one who seemed to think she could achieve them if given the opportunity.

  Could she really, though? Doing it professionally wasn’t the same as reading articles and creating scrapbooks of her own designs and concepts. She didn’t want to disappoint anybody. She could be a good daughter, a good sister, a good friend and a good lover. But a good life partner for somebody like Pete? Her IQ was about average. She wasn’t really sure that she had any talent. Pete seemed to think she wasn’t so bad, so maybe she had some natural gift for decorating. Would that be enough?

  A sliver of doubt and fear lodged in her heart. What if pursuing her dream made it impossible to be a good daughter, or a good friend? There wasn’t any guarantee she would succeed as a decorator. What would she do then?

  She brushed a few strands of hair off Pete’s forehead. They’d finished what they’d started in the gym eight years ago, but she didn’t feel like anything was settled between them. This actually seemed more like a beginning.

  Chapter Eight

  THE NEXT MORNING, Brooke woke up to the smell of fresh coffee and toast. Frowning, she pulled an over-sized T-shirt on and went to the kitchen where Pete was drinking coffee and munching on some breakfast. He looked so comfortable in his shirt and slacks—wrinkle-free to boot. How did he manage to look so crisp and ready to charge into the world at seven a.m.?

  “Here you go.” He poured her a cup then handed her some cream and sugar.

  “Where did you find this?” she asked, dumping a generous spoonful of both. She didn’t remember buying that particular brand of cream.

  “I got them at the supermarket before coming over, then forgot and left them in my car last night.”

  Guess he’d noticed her dislike of black coffee. Expecting the worst, she took a tentative sip then blinked. The brew was actually serviceable.

  “I might not be as good of a cook as some guys, but I’m not totally helpless,” he said. “Here. Have some toast.”

  She nibbled on the generously buttered whole wheat bread. “How long have you been up?”

  “A little over an hour. Hey, can I leave some of my stuff here? It’s not really practical for me to drive back to my place in the morning just to change.”

  Her mouth dried. That seemed very relationship-esque. But then what did she expect? She’d slept with the guy, hadn’t she?

  “Or if you want, you can move into my place. It’s bigger and not that far from Amandine’s.”

  “Uh, this is kind of fast.”

  “It’s natural.” He finished his coffee. “We’re adults. In any other relationship, you would’ve considered it.”

  Pete was right. She would have, if the man in question hadn’t been Pete.

  “Don’t treat me differently because of who my sister is. It’s not fair to us.”

  “It’s not just her. It’s Gavin too.”

  “Worry, worry, worry.” Pete sighed, resting his chin in a hand. “You know when Amandine and Gavin were having issues, I told her she was being selfish?”

  “You did?” Amandine had never said a word about having a conflict with Pete over her marital issues. Everything had ended well, but for a while it had looked like Amandine would divorce Gavin.

  “I thought if she got divorced, I’d probably have to leave the firm.”

  “Well, yeah. I can’t imagine how awkward it would be to work for your ex-brother-in-law.” A divorce, despite a highly detailed prenuptial agreement, would’ve been ugly. Gavin hadn’t wanted it and Amandine was carrying his baby, which both of them wanted to keep. Sadly the prenup was a bit vague on the child custody issue.

  “I didn’t want to leave because I wanted to be close to you. That was the main reason why I chose to work for Gavin. So it didn’t make me happy to hear that my plan would be foiled. But I wasn’t being fair to my sister. She has the right to choose a path that makes her happy. It wouldn’t have been her fault if I’d have to leave the firm. I’m an adult and I’d chosen to work there.”

  “Oh.” Brooke ran her finger along the rim of her coffee mug.

  “Do you think Amandine would be happy if she learned that she was the reason you and I couldn’t be together?”

  “Of course not.” Amandine was as sweet as the dessert she was named after.

  “Then please, stop using her as an excuse. If you honestly think things are moving too fast or something isn’t right, by all means say so. But don’t say it’s because of Amandine or Gavin.”

  Brooke stared at him. It was such a mature and logical argument, and effectively destroyed whatever objections she might have had because of their complicated relationships with the people around them. He actually made her sound immature and silly.

  Pete got up and kissed her on the mouth, his lips soft. “Anyway, I gotta go. See you tonight.”

  * * *

  Damn, damn, damn.

  Pete tried to focus as he rode up the elevator, but it was tough. Brooke’s use of their relationships with Amandine and Gavin to push him away was incredibly annoying. He would have done anything for her, but he couldn’t just reincarnate himself as somebody else’s brother.

  He walked into his office and opened the door to his small closet. In it were a couple of fresh suits, clean underwear and dress shirts in case he needed to pull an all-nighter. Every floor of the firm had a shower.

  Should he have been more patient? Given Brooke more time?

  Like eight years wasn’t enough?

  Waiting might backfire. Her family was apparently trying to set her up with eligible men—unmarried doctors and lawyers from their church. He’d be damned if he let one of them snag Brooke when he’d set his sights on her first.

  After changing, he caught up with the markets and decided on his trades for the morning. Then he leaned back in his chair and tried to recall every detail he could about Brooke. Amandine had always said Brooke loved her father, and she’d never do anything to let him down. A widower who’d raised two girls on his own must’ve made an impression. Pete hadn’t experienced anything similar. He loved Amandine, but he’d despised their father and still couldn’t understand why their mother had stayed with a loser who couldn’t even put a roof over their heads.

  The easiest thing would be to get Brooke’s father’s blessings. Based on what he’d heard, Brooke had never taken any of her boyfriends to meet her family, no matter how much she’d liked the guy at the time.

  There was only one reason why a woman would do that. And Pete had no intention of being a temporary fling.

  * * *

  Brooke looked thr
ough Amandine’s phone contacts. She was bound to have Pete’s number in there.

  But there was nothing under P. Maybe filed with the last name? But there was nothing under M either.

  Brooke sighed. There was a reason why she insisted on being the one to enter data into Amandine’s phones: Amandine didn’t care about logic. Finally Brooke found Pete’s number under B—for Brother.

  Grumbling, Brooke sent the number to her phone. That taken care of, she put Amandine’s away.

  “Hey,” Amandine said.

  She was in the bedroom that was trying hard to become a nursery. The queen-size bed needed to be donated, and the new crib they’d ordered a week ago had to be brought in and assembled. The royal blue and gold wallpaper needed to go too. The baby probably wouldn’t care for a fleur-de-lis motif.

  “This is such a mess,” Amandine said.

  “It’s not a mess.” Brooke used her most soothing voice. Amandine was in the latter half of her second trimester, and often lamented the most inconsequential things. Thankfully, her pregnancy was coming along fine, with her doctor allowing more activities than had previously been discussed. “It’s just full of…stuff. Once we take it all out and redo everything, the place is going to look amazing. Besides the location’s perfect—right across from the master bedroom suite. Trust me, it’s fine.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. What did Gavin say?”

  “He said it was perfect too.”

  “And?” Brooke knew there was more. She’d already heard the whole story a few weeks ago.

  “He even agreed to buy a new house if I didn’t like this one because of the nursery.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  “I told him that was crazy because I love this house. There’s no way I’m getting rid of this place.”

  “Exactly. So relax. Have happy thoughts. Gavin loves you. He even cut back from work to spend more time with you. You’re living a fairytale.”