Collaring Brooke (Club Zodiac Book 3)

by Becca Jameson

  Brooke flattened her hand on Carter’s chest and gasped. It all made so much more sense now. Her head started spinning, and she didn’t realize she was holding her breath until Carter’s fingers squeezed her neck and he leaned her head toward her lap. “Breathe, baby.” He pressed her farther. “Brooke.” His voice was firm. “Breathe.”

  She sucked in a rough inhale and blew it out.

  He held her steady. “That’s it. Again.”

  Another deep breath. When Brooke was finally able to lift her head, she found Wanda handing Carter a glass of water. And then the woman took a seat on the other side of Brooke. She looked so…tired. Worn down. Defeated. Brooke felt sorry for her.

  Wanda spoke softly. “I didn’t do right by your mother. I take the blame for that. I have to live with it for the rest of my life. I can never apologize enough for my negligence. I hope you can find it in your heart to visit me from time to time. I can’t expect you to forgive me, but I’d love to know how your life is going. It would give me a peace I don’t deserve.”

  Carter set the glass of water on the coffee table. “Ma’am, I don’t think Brooke is ready to make any decisions right now. She’s still processing her life. The woman who raised her didn’t even use her real name. It’s confusing. But I do know she was excited to find out she had relatives, and if you give her a chance, I think you’ll find Brooke to be a kind, loving woman with a big heart.”

  Brooke blinked back tears that could no longer be stopped. One slid down her cheek and then another. Maybe Carter had overstepped his bounds, but he was not wrong. She already felt something unique and dear toward her grandmother. They had both endured a similar existence.

  Brooke reached out a hand and squeezed Wanda’s. “Carter’s right. I’m still figuring things out and learning who I am. It’s overwhelming, but I want to be a part of your life if you’ll have me.”

  Wanda lurched forward and wrapped her arms around Brooke. Already the woman was nothing like her daughter. Even on her mother’s best days, she rarely expressed affection so openly. Of course, there was a good chance Wanda hadn’t either while Laurie was growing up or even until after her husband died.

  “Do you have pictures I could look at?” Brooke asked.

  Wanda’s face lit up. “I do.” She jumped to her feet and rushed across the room to pull some albums down from the shelves. She seemed younger than she had an hour ago. Before she returned, she paused, her gaze going to a framed picture on the shelf.

  Brooke couldn’t make out who was in the picture from across the room, but she held her breath again as Wanda returned.

  Her grandmother’s hand was shaking as she handed Brooke the photo.

  Brooke took it, noticing the woman in the picture was her mother. She looked so happy. She was wearing a formal gown and her hair was piled high on her head, hanging in long ringlets. Brooke had never seen her look that happy.

  She shifted her gaze to the other person. It must have been a school dance or something. Her date had on a suit and a bow tie that matched her mother’s pink dress. He held her hand tight in the picture, looking as carefree and happy as Brooke’s mother. “Her father didn’t want her to go to that dance, even though Laurie insisted this boy was only a friend. I talked him into it.”

  Suddenly, she gasped. “This is my father…”

  No one spoke.

  Oh my God. He looked so much like Brooke. There was no mistaking her identity. They had the exact same hair and eyes and nose. Even their jawline was similar. Brooke clasped the photo to her chest and closed her eyes.

  For the first time in her life, she had history. Family. So many people after a lifetime of solitude.

  Chapter 20

  Carter was uncertain about the wisdom of going straight from Wanda’s house to Martha and Gentry Rollings’s home two blocks away, but Brooke was high on life and wanted to rip off the Band-Aid without hesitation.

  To a certain extent, he agreed with her. If it were him, there was no way he could drive away and come back another day, but he was also worried about Brooke’s state of mind. She was fragile and stressed.

  Again, they had not called ahead, but this couple would be far more blindsided than Wanda Wilson. After seeing pictures of David Rollings, Carter agreed there was little doubt Brooke was his daughter. The resemblance was uncanny. She looked like she belonged to these people.

  When a man opened the front door, any lasting doubt fled. He had to be Gentry Rollings, and he was just as taken aback as expected at the appearance of a woman at his door who had to make him do a double take. “Hello? Do I know you?”

  Brooke was stronger this time. “Not yet. My name is Brooke Madden. I’m Laurie Wilson’s daughter. Unless I’m mistaken, I’m pretty sure I’m your granddaughter.”

  For a moment, the older man stood there staring at Brooke as if she’d sprouted two heads. And then he opened the door wider and stepped back. “Come inside.” He turned his head toward the house and called out, “Martha, honey, can you come to the front room?”

  Carter was stunned by this man who looked so much like his son and his granddaughter. They had strong features.

  They were all standing just inside the house when a woman appeared, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. She was smiling broadly when she rounded the corner, and then she came to an abrupt stop, her mouth falling open, her eyes widening.

  She glanced back and forth between her husband and Brooke, stunned. One hand flew to her chest. “My God.” She glanced at her husband again. “You look exactly like my son.”

  Gentry curved his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “This is Brooke Madden. She thinks she might be David’s daughter.”

  Martha’s face paled. “My God,” she repeated.

  Gentry pointed to the living room. “Please, come in. Sit.”

  Carter reached out a hand. “I’m Carter Ellis.” He didn’t elaborate. His demeanor with Brooke would speak for itself. She was his. He didn’t need to explain that fact.

  “Who…?” Martha’s voice broke off after the one word.

  “My mother was Laurie Wilson,” Brooke explained as Carter led her to the sofa and eased her onto it.

  Carter realized she was much more relaxed with these people. They’d done nothing wrong. They’d had no culpability in her crazy life.

  As soon as they sat, a beautiful tabby cat jumped up onto Brooke’s lap and batted at her hand.

  “Jasper, get down,” Martha commanded.

  Brooke reached under the cat’s chin and scratched, a smile forming. “He’s fine. You’re a cutie, aren’t you?” she directed toward the cat.

  Carter was certain Brooke had never had a pet, and watching her with the orange-striped cat tugged at his heart strings.

  “Laurie Wilson…” Gentry began, “She was Joseph and Wanda’s daughter. She disappeared when she was seventeen.”

  Brooke nodded, seeming to wait for it to all sink in.

  Martha looked ready to cry. “She was dating David.”

  Silence took over for several long seconds while everyone processed.

  Then Martha spoke again. “Does David know?”

  Carter answered. “We aren’t sure. We don’t think so. We didn’t know who Brooke’s father was until we went to her grandmother’s house this morning. If he knew Laurie was pregnant when she left is anyone’s guess.”

  “I don’t think he would keep something like that from us.” Martha shook her head. “I mean, he was very distraught when Laurie went missing, but he didn’t say anything about her being pregnant. I think he would have had a harder time recovering if he’d known. He would have looked for her harder. He was just a boy at the time, but he wouldn’t have let her take off with his child, nor would he have left her to raise a daughter on her own.”

  Brooke cleared her throat. “Do you think it would upset him to find out about me?”

  Gentry nodded. “Of course, but not in a bad way. I think he’ll be very sad to know he never met you and hadn’t been given the ch
ance.”

  “How did you come to find us?” Martha asked.

  Carter explained the saga as they’d managed to piece it together so far, even adding the abuse that led Laurie to leave with her unborn child. By now it was apparent she had been worried her father would make her life a living hell if she told him, and she probably hadn’t wanted Brooke to know the wrath of her grandfather. Ironic since she was destined to repeat history.

  When Brooke’s second set of grandparents were up to speed, they decided to call their son.

  “He’s at work,” Gentry explained, “but I think he’d want to leave early this afternoon. And it might be easier if he met you alone before he tells his family.”

  Carter agreed. The plan was reasonable.

  Ten minutes later, a younger version of Gentry walked through the front door, his brow furrowed with concern. “Dad? You guys okay? What’s the emergency?” His gaze traveled from his father to Carter and Brooke. And then he froze in his spot.

  The clock ticked while his face turned white, and then he staggered closer and lowered to his knees on the other side of the coffee table. He planted his hands on the surface, his gaze locked on Brooke. When his lips finally parted, he still didn’t speak.

  Carter felt sorry for the man, emotions taking over his own system after so many introductions. And they were not even done. He needed to stay strong. For Brooke.

  “I always wondered,” he whispered.

  Brooke smiled sweetly, grasping Carter’s fingers tight. Another tear to go with the thousands. She wiped it away. He could feel her pulse pick up as she met her father. It was a precious moment.

  Finally, one corner of David’s mouth tipped up. “Guess we don’t need a paternity test,” he joked.

  Everyone else gave a nervous chuckle.

  Brooke held his gaze while Carter watched her closely. She seemed to be in control. “You didn’t know,” she confirmed. That question had undoubtedly weighed on her.

  David shook his head. “No. But I knew her father was an asshole, and I knew she wanted to get away, and I knew…” he hesitated. “I knew we had unprotected sex.”

  Another round of explanations followed, this time with everyone talking on top of each other. Eventually, Martha lured them all into the kitchen where she pulled a casserole from the oven as if she made one every day in case company showed up. She even served a fresh pie she’d baked that morning.

  Carter’s heart was full, watching Brooke come alive. The stress she’d endured meeting her maternal grandmother was not present here. Grief and sorrow for their lost years, yes, but not the remorse and guilt.

  David made a few phone calls to his wife and eventually decided he needed to tell her in person and alone. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone for Kelly or their sons to be blindsided.

  They exchanged phone numbers, and David insisted he would work things out and introduce everyone that weekend. He was eager to have his sons meet their sister.

  Brooke was nervous as hell to find out she had two half brothers. The evidence of her stress was taken out on Carter’s hand. He doubted she had any idea how much of the day she’d spent clinging to him, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

  It was late when they got back to Carter’s house. Brooke had slept most of the trip, her seat lowered, her hand still clutching Carter’s. When they got home, he rounded the car, lifted her into his arms, and carried her inside.

  She was so worn out, she didn’t even comment or argue when he took her to his bedroom, stripped off her clothes, pulled one of his T-shirts over her head, and tucked her into his bed.

  Five minutes later, he had the lights all out, the house locked up, and was sliding into bed behind her. He gathered her back to his front and relished the soft sigh as she relaxed into him.

  Before today, he had claimed this woman as his own. Now… Now he felt so much love for her that he was bursting. He wanted to tell her how he felt, but he knew it would scare her to death and possibly push her away. So, he kept his mouth closed, kissed her neck, and fell asleep.

  Brooke awoke slowly to the feel of a hand on her thigh. She smiled as she registered where she was and who was touching her. She had come so far in such a short time that she didn’t even flinch at being brought to consciousness by a man. In his bed. In his arms.

  When his fingers hit her sex, she moaned.

  He whispered in her ear, “I was wondering when you might wake up.”

  “It’s hard to sleep with you fondling me.”

  She felt his grin against her neck. “You’ve slept enough. Time to play.”

  She sucked in a breath at his words. They were both gentle and firm at the same time. He meant to dominate her. And her heart pounded at the idea.

  His hard shaft pressed against her butt from behind, and he ground it closer as she arched back. “Baby…”

  “Please don’t tease me anymore. I’m not fragile. Make love to me.”

  He nibbled across her shoulder until he reached her ear again. His teeth bit into the soft flesh. “How about you let me make the decisions this morning, and you keep that sweet mouth closed unless I ask you a direct question.”

  She flushed, her sex tingling at his words. Every time he dominated her like this, she came more fully alive. She wanted him inside her more than she’d ever craved anything in her life. She could feel the edge of stress that always took over her body when it needed an outlet.

  After everything that happened yesterday, she wasn’t surprised, but she needed release, and she craved it in a way that would soothe her soul. Did he know what she needed?

  “You’re mine, baby.”

  She groaned, sinking deeper against him, her nipples abrading against his T-shirt.

  “Say it.”

  She licked her lips.

  “Say it, Brooke. You’re mine.”

  “I’m yours,” she whimpered. She was so totally his. Did he not know it?

  “Good girl. Now lips closed.”

  She pursed them as though that had been the demand.

  Carter eased her onto her back, taking her lips in a heated deep kiss that curled her toes. He tipped his head to one side and devoured her as if he were starving and she was his breakfast.

  She met him stroke for stroke, her tongue learning the inside of his mouth as she grabbed his biceps and dug her fingers into his muscled arms.

  He nudged her knees open and pressed his thigh between hers.

  She moaned into his mouth as his leg rubbed against her naked sex. “So wet for me,” he murmured against her mouth. “I love the sounds you make.” He lifted his face a few inches, breaking the kiss. “I’m going to claim you completely, Brooke. Now. And I won’t let you go afterward. I won’t be able to.”

  She stared at him, unsure about a response. On the one hand, she understood him completely. On the other hand, her life was upside-down and she had no idea where it was leading her. It wouldn’t be fair to expect him to follow her or wait around while she made life changes and found herself.

  One thing she knew for certain, she wanted Carter to be the one to take her virginity. She wanted him to dominate her completely and take her someplace no one would ever be able to emulate. She had no idea what the rest of her life might look like, but this morning was going to involve sex and lots of it.

  She wasn’t lying. She was his in every sense of the word. But would he be able to take the journey she was on with her? Probably not. She ignored the melancholic thought and concentrated on the way he slid his hand under the hem of her shirt and drew it up her body.

  In seconds she was naked under him. He rose up next to her and held her gaze while he stripped off his sleep pants.

  Her eyes shot to his groin the moment his penis popped free, bobbing long and stiff in front of him.

  He took her hand and brought it to the shaft. “Wrap your fingers around me, baby.” His voice was low, earnest, demanding. So many things at once.

  She circled his girth eagerly, wanting to know the fe
el of him. Smoother than expected. Hard and velvety. She watched as she slid her hand up and down. The tip was wider and the slit at the top had white, creamy semen leaking out.

  She licked her lips, and he groaned. “One day soon I’ll want your lips around my cock, but not today. I’d come too fast inside that sweet mouth of yours.” He fell forward, planting his hands at both sides of her head.

  She continued to hold his shaft, loving the feel of him in her hand. Powerful. Strong. Urgent.

  He wrenched her hand off him seconds later. “That’s enough.”

  She blinked up at him, hoping she hadn’t done something wrong.

  But he was smiling down at her. “Baby, your hand feels like heaven around my dick, but I don’t want to come in your fist.” He leaned down and kissed her lips. “I want to come inside your tight pussy.”

  She squirmed under him, wishing he would lower his body over hers. She even grabbed his hips and tugged, but he didn’t budge.

  “Don’t try to control this,” he told her lips. “You’ll regret it.”

  His words made her sex grip, wetness leaking out. How would he punish her for urging him to claim her? She gave another tug to his hips.

  He bolted to his knees, grabbed her wrists, and lifted her hands over her head. Grasping both wrists in one hand, he took her jaw in the other. “Remember how I warned you I would punish you if you were deliberately disobedient?”

  She tried to remember, digging in her brain.

  He lifted a brow, waiting for a response.

  “I forgot.” All she knew was that she wanted to tempt him to take her. Now. Not later. Now. He seemed to be on a lazy river while she was soaring overhead on the fastest waterslide in the park.

  He narrowed his gaze. “It would be best if you recalled on your own, Brooke. If I have to remind you, you’ll spend the better part of the morning wishing you had obeyed me.”

  Her nipples pebbled when he glanced down at them, tightening to the point that she wanted him to suckle them.

  “Brooke,” he demanded.

  She jerked her gaze back to his. “You said you wouldn’t give me what I wanted if I was bratty or whiney,” she stammered, trying to recall his words before they bit her in the butt.