by Ann, Natalie
His groan was the only acceptance she needed. Running her hands down his waist, then under his shirt, across his flat abs and chest, she felt the sprinkling of light hair she knew was there as her hands roamed, sought. She loved the feel of his chest and abs, loved every bit of his lean muscular body.
Removing her hands, Brooke directed his arms to his side. Gripping the bottom of his shirt, she slowly pulled it over his head inch by agonizing inch, her eyes mesmerized by his physique. “Have I ever told you how much I love your body?” Placing her hands against his chest, palms down, fingers spread wide, she tried to feel as much of him as she could at once. “It’s so strong. I love how strong you are. How your strength feels against me.”
Lucas stood still, his eyes deep with passion, watching her touch him. He seemed unable to form any words against her actions, not that she expected an answer from him. She felt empowered in the moment. Loved that she was able to make him lose control like this.
She hoped that her eagerness would overshadow any awkwardness from what she was about to do. Something she never had done before—and wanted Lucas to be her first. Needed him to be her first.
Clutching his waistband, staring into his ice blue eyes, she started to unbutton his shorts. The sound of the zipper being lowered roared in her ears. She leaned in for another kiss and whispered against his lips, “All for me.” She pushed his shorts and underwear down. “Step out of them,” she ordered, her voice hoarse.
She watched while he made quick work of sliding his shoes off and kicking the remains of his clothes away. She took her time, her eyes drinking in her fill of him as he stood there like a Greek God in all his glory while she remained fully clothed.
Placing her lips again his collarbone, she started to work her way down, paused at his nipples, licked and bit, drove him a little crazy. Just like he loved to do to her, she repaid the favor back to him in spades. His groans and moans continued to urge her on. Don’t think, she ordered herself, just feel. Just do.
After paying homage to his chest, she made her way down further, along his ribs, to his waist, licked and kissed and sucked in turn. Teasing him with her fingertips, not able to get enough.
Placing one knee on the carpeted floor, then the other, she came face-to-face with the impressive length of him and wrapped one hand around him. Tentatively at first, she stroked him, then more forcefully when she heard the responses coming from his throat.
“Brooke,” he pleaded with her.
Now or never. She took a breath, leaned forward, and ran the tip of her tongue over his smoothness. He continued to stand rigid, so she pressed on. Sliding her tongue down the length of him and then back up, tasting him, getting comfortable with the feel of his body. She placed her parted lips over him and heard him growl as he threaded his fingers through her hair to hold her head in place.
“Brooke, my God,” he said hoarsely.
He sounded like he was agony, but he continued to guide her the way he wanted it, the speed and pressure that made him shudder and moan for more. When he seemed to have no more control, he yanked her head back. “Enough. I can’t hold back, and I don’t want to finish this way. Not now.”
He pulled her up to a standing position and helped her quickly pull off her clothes. When she was as naked as him, he pushed her back on the bed and came down on top of her, pressing into her as his lips smothered hers, losing the last bit of control he possessed.
Reaching his hand between their bodies he slid his fingers between her legs. “Ready for me already, huh? That do something for you, too?” he asked in amazement, then pulled back and quickly reached for the packet in the pocket of his discarded shorts.
Coming back on top of her, he used his leg to nudge hers apart and slowly slid inside of her. Testing her, making sure she was completely ready for all of him. He groaned deep in his throat when her inner muscles gripped him tight.
She raised her hips higher against him, drew him in deeper. Together, hips frantically moving at the same pace, they raced each other to the end. Faster and harder, each urging the other on, until as one, their shouts echoed off the walls.
***
“Turn right here and go through the iron gates,” Brooke instructed Lucas.
Lucas drove his Range Rover through the twelve-foot gates that were spread wide open in welcome. Slowing down to a crawl, he made his way down the long driveway and took in the scenery around him.
Beautifully maintained and manicured lawns were spread out all around him. Fountains surrounded by red rosebushes still in full bloom were strategically placed on each side of the driveway. More flowers and rosebushes stood in perfect clusters placed throughout the lawn as he made his way closer to the house. It was like a picture out of a magazine.
He pulled to a stop right past the front door, in the half circle that spanned the front of the entire three-story red brick colonial. His first thought was impressive and then followed by too cold. It was too perfect. He’d never understood Brooke’s comments about not being able to run around the yard as a child, but now it finally made sense.
This wasn’t a property that begged for children to run laughing and screaming, but rather invited people to look and not touch.
Taking a deep breath, Brooke unbuckled her seat belt and turned to Lucas. “Are you ready for this?”
Lucas clasped her hand in his, leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss. “I’ll brave it for you.” Then he gave her one of his killer smiles that always made her smile back at him.
Secret
The large white door was opened as Brooke and Lucas made their way up the few brick steps. “Brooklyn, dear, you look lovely. A bit thin, but lovely just the same.” Paula Malone reached for her daughter’s hand, gave it a gentle squeeze, then leaned forward.
Brooke moved in and placed a chaste kiss on her mother’s cheek, then waited until she shut the door. “Mother, this is Lucas. Lucas, my mother, Paula Malone.”
After watching the stiff interaction between mother and daughter, Lucas was unsure how to proceed. But when Paula took his hand in both of her cool clammy ones, he repeated the same greeting as Brooke. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said.
Lucas wasn’t sure what he was expecting from Brooke’s mother. But he definitely wasn’t expecting to see an older, more mature-looking version of Brooke.
Paula was slightly shorter than her daughter, but they shared the same graceful willowy build and facials features. The same facial features as Mac. It was obvious now the siblings took after their mother in the looks department. The only difference was the hair color. Where Brooke and Mac’s was a rich brown, Paula’s was more of an auburn color.
“Please, come in. Make yourselves comfortable.” They stopped in a small room off the foyer that reminded him of an old English parlor.
Paula seated herself in a very uncomfortable-looking wing chair, placed the same width apart as its twin in front of an old brick fireplace that had been restored to its original design. Brooke chose to sit opposite her mother, while he remained standing and looked around the room for lack of something better to do. He knew Brooke and Mac had come from wealth, the same as he did. Only that was where the comparisons died.
His family lived in their home. They may have had the best furniture, electronics and luxury money afforded them, but everything was cozy and comfortable. Brooke’s parents’ house reeked of wealth, from art to oriental rugs scattered over the refinished hardwood floors, to antique furniture.
Everything was cold and stiff. Unwelcoming. He couldn’t imagine growing up in a house like this.
He was pulled out of his thoughts at the mention of Mac’s name. “He is finishing up his rounds as we speak. He should be here in plenty of time for dinner,” Brooke informed her mother.
“Very well. Your father is on a conference call. He should be out shortly.” Paula then turned to address Lucas. “Brooklyn tells me you are an attorney? Head of the Legal Department at the hospital?”
“That is cor
rect,” Lucas replied, wondering if his response sounded as stiff to her as it did to him.
For Brooke’s sake he was trying to put on his best professional demeanor, though he very rarely needed to use it quite like this. Hardly anyone behaved as prim and proper as Brooke’s mother.
They were saved from the awkward silence by the entrance of Brooke’s father. Taller and stockier than Lucas, it was obvious where Mac got his build. Where Brooke was willowy like her mother, Mac was more a presence in any room, much like Lucas’s own father and brother.
“Brooklyn, you look well,” Richard Malone’s deep monotone voice addressed his only daughter, then he walked forward and gave her a brief kiss on the cheek.
With a nod, Brooke turned toward Lucas, and made the introductions. After a handshake, Richard turned toward his wife. “Paula, bring them into the living room. They aren’t guests to be seated in here,” he said with a frown.
Paula drew her eyebrows together at her husband’s tone but reluctantly stood up and smoothed any creases from her cream-colored silk pants and followed Richard down the hall into a grand living area. At least this room looked a bit more lived in, Lucas thought. Though the furniture was still very high end, it was more comfortable, even in appearance.
Richard made his way to the bar in the corner. “What can I get you to drink, Brooklyn? Lucas?”
Brooke had seated herself on the end of one of the couches against the wall and tugged Lucas down next to her. He reached over and gave her hand a gently reassuring squeeze. “Wine is fine,” she replied.
“The same,” Lucas stated. He sincerely hoped he could make it through the next few hours without falling asleep. Even his parents’ stuffiest dinner parties when he was a child were never this uncomfortable. Brooke and her parents seemed like strangers rather than family.
Minutes later a loud noise drew everyone’s attention to the entrance of the great room as Mac strode in. “Sorry I’m late,” he announced cheerfully. Then he strode over to Brooke, lifted her up for a hug, and whispered in her ear—loud enough for Lucas to overhear—“You owe me.”
Lucas had stood up when Mac walked in, gave him a firm handshake and quick grin, and then sat back down. He watched as Mac proceeded to walk over and repeat the same greeting with his parents as Brooke did. Lucas couldn’t imagine ever greeting his parents in such a way and had to fight the urge not to laugh.
Before Mac could be seated, a woman walked into the room to announce dinner was ready. Lucas watched in amazement when Mac walked over and picked the older woman up in a big hug. “Marie, when am I going to be able to steal you away to my house?”
Marie batted Mac’s hand away playfully, but before she could respond, Paula was scolding him, “Mackenzie! That is totally inappropriate behavior.”
Mac grinned at his mother, not even acknowledging her scolding. “It’s not like they are guests, Mother.” Then he winked at the woman Lucas had assumed was the cook and followed her into the dining room before everyone else.
Lucas was slightly confused. He had expected more people and had only assumed they were early yet. But after the announcement of dinner, he realized Brooke shared his confusion, if the look on her face was any indication. It finally dawned on Lucas what Mac’s whispered comment meant. There were only five place settings at the table.
Paula caught her daughter’s look, and said, “I know how much you love a big party Brooklyn, but we decided to keep it small tonight.” Then she lowered her voice and addressed Lucas. “Mac told us about your aversion to dinner parties. We wanted you to feel comfortable in our home.”
“Aversion?” Lucas choked out, eyes wide.
Paula placed her hand on Lucas’s arm. “Yes, dear. Don’t worry. Your secret is safe. Mackenzie never released any details, but I understand better now why Brooklyn requested a small affair.”
Shooting a cold stare at Mac only resulted in an answering grin. “Don’t worry, Lucas. Your secret is still safe.” Lucas didn’t care for Mac’s mocking tone, but kept quiet.
Lucas was thinking someone owed him for being the scapegoat tonight, not the other way around. But if it made the night easier for Brooke, he would gladly accept the blame. He could only imagine what her parents must think of him. He grew up in a family of successful attorneys, ran the legal department at a major hospital, and yet had an aversion to dinner parties. It made no sense at all, but if Brooke’s mother accepted that, who was he to question it?
The five-course meal was delicious, but he would have enjoyed it more if the conversation was a bit livelier. There were huge gaps of silence, in between mundane questions about work, the stock market and frivolous dinner parties. Throw in some awkwardness when Paula mentioned Robbie and his family a few times, and he could feel Brooke withdrawing next to him. She was so tense next to him her muscles had to be screaming in pain.
Lucas was uncomfortable and shocked that someone who seemed to follow the rules of etiquette, as Paula did, would bring up the name of Brooke’s former love who died over a year ago. His only saving grace was that everyone else seemed uncomfortable with the topic Paula seemed determined to bring up. Even Brooke’s father managed to steer the conversation away when Robbie’s name was brought up again and again.
“Darling, have you contacted a plastic surgeon yet?” Paula asked Brooke when the dessert was being delivered.
“Excuse me?” Brooke frowned. “What for?”
“Well, your scars, of course. I realize that they are mostly covered, and the surgeons did a good job, but not a perfect one. I would think you would want them to be corrected a bit more.”
Lucas felt Brooke stiffen next to him. Before she could reply, Mac pulled his phone out of his pocket and interrupted everyone. “Sorry, it’s the hospital. I need to take this call.” Then he exited the room fast before anyone could question him.
Brooke’s father tried to change the conversation again after sending a disgruntled look his wife’s way. “Brooklyn, Mac tells me that you’re learning to garden?”
Paula gave Brooke a look of distain. “Why not hire a service? Really, why would you want to spend your time getting dirty?”
Lucas was ready to defend Brooke when his own phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out to see Mac’s name on the screen. Confused, he apologized to everyone, then answered. “Hello.”
“Make up something and get her out of here. Say you have an emergency. Go back and review some files or a case or whatever excuse you can come up with. Just find a way to leave,” Mac calmly stated into the phone.
Lucas looked around the room, saw Brooke fiddling with something in her lap and her father scowling at her mother. “I agree. Yes, Doctor, I’ll get right on that,” Lucas stated and continued on with a straight face despite Mac’s snort on the other end. “Let me get back to you in twenty minutes or so.” He disconnected the phone and turned to Brooke. “I’m sorry. That was Dr. Jones. He has some information we need to go over before his trial this week. He said it’s urgent.” His eyes drilled into hers, hoping she got the hint and played along.
At Brooke’s confused look, Lucas tilted his head and then turned to her father. “I’m sure you understand. I obviously can’t go into details, but it’s an employee grievance. Brooke has been instrumental in the interviews and we need to go over our notes and return his call.”
Finally catching on to his ploy, Brooke stood. “Oh right, yes. I forgot the trial is this week. I’m sorry to leave so quickly. But we really must go. I will touch base with you before we leave tomorrow.”
Richard stood and gave Brooke a quick kiss and a discreet squeeze to her hand, then shook Lucas’s hand while Brooke kissed her mother goodbye.
They couldn’t get out of the house fast enough. “What was that all about?” she asked as she buckled her seatbelt in Lucas’s vehicle.
“Thank your brother. He was on the phone and told me to get you out of there, so I did,” he replied calmly.
Brooke laid her head back on the headrest and
shut her eyes. “Mac always saves me. Even growing up he would try to make it easier for me. One of these days I should play the peacemaker for him. But he never seems to need it.” She turned her head to look at him. “I guess we really do owe him big.”
***
The next morning Lucas woke up later than normal in an empty bed. It was late by the time he had finally fallen asleep. He kept being jarred awake by Brooke’s tossing and turning. He wanted to hold and comfort her, but she kept rejecting his efforts, saying she was fine and just overtired. But he knew better.
The minute they walked into Mac’s townhouse the night before, Brooke announced, “I’m going to take a hot bath in Mac’s tub.”
She had been in there for close to twenty minutes when Mac arrived home to see Lucas drinking a beer on the couch with ESPN playing in the background.
“How’s she doing?” Mac had asked.
“She’s relaxing in your tub right now,” Lucas said solemnly.
“That’s fine.” Mac looked more closely at Lucas. His hair was all disheveled from running his fingers through it. “How are you doing?”
“What?” Lucas asked absently. Then the question registered in his brain. “Oh, I’m OK. I’m more worried about Brooke.”
“She will be fine. She’s used to it. I can’t tell you how happy I was that she moved away. Looking at it now, I can see she needed it more than I realized. She will be bounce back.” Mac then added thoughtfully, “You’ve been good for her. Now you know why I said to give her time.”
“I want to help her. But I don’t know how.”
“You are already. Just be there for her.”
Lucas replayed that conversation with Mac over and over in his head all night long, trying to think of ways to help Brooke. Without her realizing it, of course. He knew she didn’t want or wouldn’t accept help, but he couldn’t stand to see her like he did last night.