by Lane, Stacy
By the time the call ended I felt like a child again. My mom is a little like the evil Tangled mother, but not so evil. She doesn’t understand the concept that children grow up. We’ll always be her babies no matter how old we are.
That part I could almost overlook. But the accusatory tone, the inclination that I was in the wrong, ate away the self-esteem I built over the last couple months.
I wanted it back.
One person could help put it all back.
Brooks exuded confidence. Maybe it really did rub off on me. Maybe that was the easy way to look at it. Easy meant I didn’t have to admit how I truly felt about Brooks. And I would be avoiding that for a long time to come. Because after tonight, I won’t be able to face him again. If this happened, I can handle not seeing him anymore. We haven’t known each other that long and I was optimistic I will get over him.
I’m taking a note out of his book. No strings. One night.
Right as the call ended with my mom Cam stepped into his office to check on me. He told me Brooks left. On the whim, I asked for Brooks’s address.
Cam may have gotten a little bit of the matchmaking tendencies from his parents. He didn’t hesitate to hand over the information.
“I am not a puck bunny,” I argue with determined vigor.
Take that Mr. Authority. I can stand up to you and your condescending smirk.
“I’m not judging.”
“Your face says otherwise,” I whisper, but he doesn’t hear me.
He proceeds to pick up the desk phone, punch in numbers, and speak to Brooks on the other side. “Mr. Labelle there’s a blonde with glasses down here for you. She is. Yes, quite snarky.”
Great. They’re having a conversation about me.
Super Guard hangs up and indicates to follow him. I walk inside the elevator, leaning my back against the cool walls.
He inserts a key, punches a button, and turns to me with a pleasant smile before the doors separate us. “Have a nice night, Miss Harper.”
Crossing my ankles, my foot bounces for the twenty-two-floor ride up.
I try turning off my thoughts knowing that once these doors open again there will be no extra moment to find the bravado I had before stepping inside this high-rise building.
Instead, I pictured Brooks as he talked to Super Guard. That teasing grin in place, the rush of hearing I was in the lobby, and the pins and needles feeling of waiting for this elevator to open up on his floor. Into his home.
Okay, those were my emotions, but he possibly felt them too.
I’ve never done anything like this. I’ve never met anyone who made me want to act impulsively before. Adults in the real world do not behave this way. I’ve been living in that real world since I left Oregon. A simple life, settling down with a decent man is how I expect mine to be ten years from now. Brooks could never be a regret as long as I lived without worry for this moment.
The elevator opens. Lifting my head from counting each criss-cross in my shoelaces, I met the gaze of Brooks standing on the other side.
He leaned on the wall at his back, one hand tucked into his pocket, and holding his head with a slight tilt. Smoky gray eyes locked with mine and never moved. Not even a blink.
Pushing off the wall I came forward before the doors could shut my courage down.
“We’re not just friends.” My voice trembled.
Shaking his head in a slow side to side, Brooks paused before replying, “No. We’re not.”
“I didn’t want this to happen,” I whisper. Hearing the elevator close behind me set the reality that Brooks and I were very alone.
His entryway was painted a dark blue-gray. A small shelf placed to the left of the elevator, and to the right, the narrow hall leads to the rest of his house. Artwork hung across from the entrance, right where he stood. An abstract design painted in colors of black, white, and gold.
“We can still be friends, Jo.”
“I can’t,” I declare. “I can’t kiss you and think about touching you and a whole lot more, and be the same girl in the crowd with all the others you are after, Brooks.”
“I’m not after anyone but you right now.”
“For now,” I repeat.
“Why did you come here.” His delivery is not intended to question. He knows why I’m here.
“I had this sexy entrance planned, but Super Guard went all ‘You shall not pass’ on me.” Sure hope he’s seen Lord of the Rings, otherwise, my Gandalf impression will come off like a crazy person.
Brooks’s mouth spreads and his chest shakes in mirth. “Roberto. He’s really a big teddy bear.”
“Well, he looks like Colossus from Dead Pool.”
“That’s pretty accurate,” he mumbles.
I push my glasses further up my nose and step toward Brooks until I’m a foot in front of him. “I like the way I feel when I’m with you.” The confession falls from my lips. I get one shot at this and I want him to hear the honesty. So much that I’m dealing with lately has left me without closure. If I’m going to walk away from Brooks, I needed everything to be said with candor even if it makes me vulnerable. “It’s exhilarating. To not be in control. To not think about every move before I make it. To not worry about what others may think of me. You look at me and I don’t doubt or question why. Your family made me feel more like a sister and daughter than my own do. Not your sister, obviously, because that would be really weird.”
He grins. “Extremely.”
“I realized tonight that I can’t be your friend, Brooks.” His mouth falls. I go on with, “We are very different. If I keep seeing you the way I have been, through our friends, at the bar, your mom bribing us with pies—I will fall for you. And that would ruin us more than me walking away now.”
Brooks drops his powerful gaze to the floor. The vein at his temple pulses, making me wonder if he’s grinding his jaw. “So you came to say goodbye.”
“At this very second, no.”
Picking his head up, I watch the swirls drift around his eyes like smoke.
“I’m here for one night. And I hope to walk away with a little bit of that Labelle swagger afterward because I could use that in my life.”
“You don’t need to be a Labelle to believe in yourself, Jo.” Brooks cups my face with the hand that was in his pocket. The warmth sinks into my cheek. I sink into his touch.
“Easier said than done,” I whisper. “But I’ll try.”
“Is this about the phone call from your mom?”
“That’s a long, drawn-out answer I don’t want to get into, Brooks. I came to you for what should be obvious, but if I’ve read this all wrong then please say something so I can back out of here before my dignity collapses.”
Before I finish talking his mouth is on mine and he’s shutting me up good and proper.
I feel how very right I read him. He proves what I came here for would be worth every grain of doubt I may come up with later.
His other hand clasps around my lower back, pulling me into him. Plastered chest to chest, waist to groin, his hardness—body and other places—meets my entire front. I circle my hold around his neck to try to close any distance left between us.
Brooks spins our bodies until he’s pressing me to the wall. We tumble, feet tangled, and my shoulder hits the edge of his fancy painting. The scuffs of knocking it askew reach my hearing, but I don’t bother with trying to right it.
My fingers delve into his soft, thick hair. I open my mouth and his tongue dives in. He’s so much taller, and with the wall at my back, I can’t tilt my head to get better access. Brooks knows it too, and scoops me up. My legs lock around him, our faces level with each other.
There are people who can leave their partners with a memory of their time together that will likely ruin sex with all others when it’s over. Brooks has definitely ruined a lot of women. But sometimes there’s something greater that lies beneath. Something more than desire.
I know I’m going to walk away from his place ruined in many ways other tha
n the bedroom.
He’s left an imprint on my ass from the strength he held me with. His hands drift upward, scooping up the bottom of my shirt and lifting until it’s over and off my head.
My glasses are knocked loose. My hair tumbles down around my shoulders. On reflex, I pick one arm up to cover my chest. There’s not much to hide and one arm flung across my breasts covers them.
Brooks’s lids drop. The burgundy straps of my bra are all that’s visible.
“What are you hiding from?” he asks in a husky, demanding tone.
I glance down too. My boobs have always been small, but as I dropped weight after high school they shrunk, taking my confidence right along with them.
“Habit,” I reply.
Brooks slips his finger around my wrist with a gentle touch. “You’re beautiful everywhere, Angel. Don’t hide from me now.”
Reluctance falls away. His lips fall to my throat.
I grip onto the sides of his head, trying to find my breath as he inches lower and lower with every kiss against my skin. There’s a flurry of fluttery wings causing a commotion in my stomach. There’s a bundle of nerves heating up between my legs.
Brooks slips the cup of my bra to the side. His mouth covers my breast, tongue swirling over the beaded nipple, and then teeth scraping until he’s biting down.
“Ohh,” I moan with a vibrant release.
He lifts his face, kissing me for a long, deep stroke, then pulls back to say, “Hold onto me.”
The moistened skin on my back peels away from the wall as Brooks carries me down the hall. Legs are locked tight as he prowls across the tiled floors. His deft fingers unlatch my bra with one hand while his other rests beneath my butt.
The straps slip off and my bra falls to the ground somewhere in the massive, open gallery. I look around long enough to see Brooks turn right and veer toward another hallway. I face the living room he’s walking away from. The blue walls and dark leather furniture are much closer and just as inviting for a spot to place me beneath him. But he keeps going. Straight into a large bedroom with a gigantic bed sitting in the center.
Floor to ceiling windows takes up the wall to the left of the bed. On the right are the doors leading onto a stunning terrace. City lights twinkle in the background we pass as Brooks approaches the mattress he then tosses me on. Black and cream linen lay beneath me in the rich, dark green room.
Brooks comes down on top of me, finding both my breasts now free from the bra and taking full advantage. Large palms slide over my trembling flesh and cup my small mounds.
“Beautiful,” he muffles into the crevice between. “Perfect.”
Treasured.
I’ve never felt secure enough in bed with a guy to actually feel I am what he could desire. But Brooks gives me all of that. The power of compliments works wonders.
Knees bent between my legs, Brooks sits up. My hair is fanned out along the sheets, my glasses a little foggy from my heavy breathing, and he stares down at me like something he’s about to devour.
“Damn,” he curses.
“Why did you stop?” Hesitation wavers on my tongue as he just sits there, unmoving.
“You sure you want this, Jo?”
“Don’t you?”
“Angel, I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you right now.”
“I want you, too,” I breathe.
“Once won’t be enough.” His voice flattens as he pours emotion into our gazes.
I blink, confused by his response and the lost look in his eyes. If anything, I thought he would be the one completely fine with this deal. It would be me leaving afterward, and spending the rest of my days dreaming about being with Brooks.
He stretches over his head, pulling his shirt off with one tug.
Holy eye-candy, Batman.
Leaning over me he drops his face close to mine. “Will you be able to see with these gone?”
I nod. Verbal responses are no longer functioning.
Brooks peels my glasses off, folding and setting them on his nightstand. He comes back for a soft kiss on my lips. It’s the most gentle brush of his mouth he’s ever laid on me. Brooks has been that hungry, all-in kisser since the first time.
I kiss him back, pulling his face closer with grabby hands. His hips drop to grind his hardened desire into my open and ready center. Our moans tangle together.
Rough, long fingers reach between us. Brooks unfastens my jeans. He breaks away to lean back and pull the tight denim from my lower half.
“Your legs have brought me so many fantasies,” he murmurs, gliding them up to his mouth one at a time, licking a delicate spot behind each knee.
Any other time I would probably find that laughable, but he’s stolen the snark right out of me.
When his touch makes it beneath my panties, all I’m capable to respond with for the rest of the night will be cries of pleasure.
“Have you been this wet for me before, Jo?” Brooks’s finger slips inside, the padding under his thumb on his open palm presses down on my mound and electricity shoots in every direction inside me. “Tell me, Jo. Have you?”
I nod, at least I think I do because he grins in return.
Moonlight casts from both sides of the bed and he looks so unreal and gorgeous I have to remember this isn’t a dream.
My hips thrust to seek more pressure. I think I’m about to explode. It’s never happened this fast and it’s never been this good. What kind of orgasms was I having before now? That’s some faulty shit if they weren’t going to be this good every single time.
Another finger joins his first one. Brooks bends over me, tongue sweeping across my protruding hipbone. It dips lower, licking and nipping at my skin. He’s pouring turpentine on a trail very close to a bomb.
Tick.
Tick.
Boom.
I go off with a giant explosion. Moaning his name, thrusting and reaching for more before I’m even done. I ride his hand until the shakes simmer, opening my eyes to seek his.
He removes his hand from me, tugging my panties off and standing at the end of the mattress. His pants are the next to go.
Drooling.
I. Am. Drooling.
Tanned and tattooed. Taut muscles exposed and rippling from neck to feet. And his thighs. They are all I can think to describe them as hockey player thighs.
Brooks walks around the bed, pulling a square wrapper from a drawer, and prowls back over me. Hands rest on each side of my shoulders. He scans my face, watching me with a content sweep of his eyes. Nothing happens. He just watches.
I raise my hand, lightly touching the outer portion of his face, running the tips of my fingers from his temples to his scruffy jaw. His eyes close and he inhales a deep breath as I graze along the contours.
Scooping his face, his short beard brushing onto my hands, I kiss him with need and longing and passion. I hold on to block out his gaze. That desperate wonder he watched me with seconds ago will haunt me forever.
But I let go. He sits up, sheaths his cock, asks one more time if this is what I want.
It’s more than what I wanted.
Fingers bite into the top of my shoulder and the other hand gripping into the thick skin of my thigh as Brooks thrusts inside. He growls like a ravaged animal.
I lock my nails into the arm stretching above me and meet him thrust for thrust. Flapping wings return in the center of my belly. I don’t think they ever left. They manifested the night I met Brooks and have been longing for the moment they get to fly.
His sinewy stomach bounces with each forward motion.
I drop the leg he’s had his grip on, swing my other over his hip, and with my core strength, I flip this large man onto his back.
The fast, sneaky maneuver awarded me a beautiful smile from Brooks.
Now on top, riding him, a brazen streak takes over me. It’s a feeling I’ve only ever wished I could have. But with every roll of my hips, I witness his gray eyes darken to almost black and I know I have control
again.
His hands are all over me. In my hair at the back of my neck, he pulls, stretching my neck wide open. Wrapping me up in his embrace, he meets my front with his, rubbing lips and teeth along my collarbone and up my neck.
I gasp as a strong shock hits me down low. It continues to fire off as Brooks thrusts upward. Head thrown all the way back, tearing at his hair, Brooks’s moans touching my ear, I come again—longer, stronger, and not sure I’ll ever be able to come down.
EIGHTEEN
Brooks
In the morning I walked down to the corner cafe to grab us coffee. I could have brewed a pot, but pumpkin spice creamers were nowhere close to the coffee shops lattes.
I left Jo in my bed after rising early and watching her sleep a while. She never budged. I had to peel her off of me, reluctantly, but she never woke. She mumbled some incoherent musings and still slept like the dead.
The windows in my room faced west. I was an early riser and enjoyed the cast of sunlight that reached my side of the building in the mornings without the full effect from the east. It’s why I never had panels installed. Watching that orange-pink glow cover Jo’s skin when I opened my eyes was like witnessing the most beautiful sunrise. I would wake every morning to watch that over and over if I could.
Stepping through the lobby with a coffee tray in one hand and a white paper bag in the other, I shoot a nod at the morning guard on duty.
I ride the elevator up to my floor, eyes falling on the contents filling my hands. Coffee and muffins. I’ve never gone out to buy breakfast for any woman that has spent the night. We wake, say goodbye, and that’s that. With Jo, however, going out for this stuff was a way for me to try to keep her here longer.
Last night at Triplets there came a moment when I knew Jo and I were done with whatever we have going on between us. I can’t explain it. I just knew. As she finished up her karaoke song with Chelsea my stomach twisted in knots.
She blew me away with her rap skills. She captured the entire room. The song choice was hilarious, and more of an inside joke than a hidden message like my brother assumed.
Jo walked off to take that phone call and I saw my opportunity to delay the inevitable.