by T. K. Leigh
She pauses, licking her lips, her fevered eyes remaining locked on mine. She loosens her grip on my face, but her hands remained glued to my skin, her thumbs caressing the scruff on my chin.
“Those little girls are so blessed to call you Daddy. They already know that. We all know that. What Carla’s trying to do, how she’s trying to come between you and your girls, well… She forgot how fiercely loyal you are. And maybe she didn’t know. Maybe she never saw that side of you. But I have. I saw it the day I met you. How protective you were of your sister. How protective you became of me, too. But that’s nothing compared to how protective you are of those two little girls. That won’t change. And I will be right by your side every step of the way. I won’t give up on you.”
Closing her eyes, she leans her forehead on mine. Wetness falls down my cheeks, but it’s not from my tears. It’s from Brooklyn’s. I bring my hands to her face, wiping away her tears with my thumbs, both of us holding onto each other, hoping this connection, this bond, will be strong enough to help us navigate through the stormy and unknown waters we face.
“Will you be there when I tell them?” I ask softly.
She inhales a long breath and nods. “Of course, Drew. I’m here for you.” She places a soft kiss on my cheek, the anguish that’s plagued me since I picked up this envelope starting to evaporate.
“I always want you to be here for me.” My words linger in the air for what seems like an eternity before she releases her hold on me, the moment breaking.
“Drew, we’ve talked about this,” she reminds me, as she’s been prone to do over the past week whenever I attempt to bring up what the future holds for me, for her, for Wes. She steps away, heading toward the kitchen to pour the fresh coffee I prepared. “Not yet.”
I don’t know what it is about this moment, about feeling like my life’s falling apart, about knowing everything’s about to change, but I’m done waiting. This entire situation with Charlotte reminds me there’s no time like the present, that you may not get another chance to do something. I can’t risk that anymore.
Jumping up from my barstool, I swiftly close the distance between us. Brooklyn spins around, gasping at what she sees in my eyes. I’ve tried to be strong, to give her space, but she’s the only thing that can stop the despair right now.
I grip her hip and tug her to me. She sucks in a surprised breath, her eyes floating over my chest before coming back to my face.
“Drew…,” she whimpers, making no move to free herself, to retreat, to walk away. Our gazes locked, I lower my lips toward hers, my breathing quickening as the space between us disappears.
“Please, Brooklyn. Don’t tell me to stop.” Desperation overtakes all sense of what’s right and fair. This woman is my weakness, but also my strength. I need that strength more than anything right now. “I know you didn’t want to do anything until you cleared things up with Wes, but we both know which path you’ve chosen. You haven’t worn that ring in over a week now.”
She glances at her hand, but still appears torn. A ball of guilt settles deep in my stomach over the idea of putting her in this situation, of forcing her to make her decision. Wes will be home in a week, but these past several days have been torture enough. I can’t wait that long. Not any more.
“I need to feel something other than this pain.” My hand goes to her head and I fist her hair. “You’re the only person who’s ever made me feel.” I bring my lips even closer to hers, her pink flesh skimming against mine. “Help me feel again.”
Her brows crease as she places her hand on my chest, pushing softly. “Please, don’t put me in this position. It’s not fair to any of us.” Her expression begs me to understand where she’s coming from. The rational side of me does, but that’s not the side that’s in control right now. The heartache is driving me.
“Don’t you want this? Don’t you want me?” I ask, my voice catching. I’m not sure how much more hurt I can deal with.
She searches my eyes, licking her lips. “I can’t give you the answer you need. Not yet.”
My shoulders falling, I lower my head. I spin away from her so she doesn’t bear witness to my breakdown, placing my hands on the island to support myself. I feel her eyes studying me, but I don’t look at her, keeping my gaze focused on the pattern in the marble slab of the island.
“You should go,” I manage to say after several awkward moments. It’s an asshole move to kick her out simply because she won’t betray Wes and kiss me. I’ll probably come to regret my behavior later. Now, though, she’s the key to my freedom that’s hanging just out of reach.
“If that’s what you want.”
I shake my head. “You know what I want. I wish I knew what you wanted.” I lift my eyes to hers, barely able to even say the words through the lump in my throat. I hate that Brooklyn’s seeing me like this. Then again, she’s seen me at the lowest of my lows. If anyone would understand what I’m going through, it’s this woman.
She opens her mouth, then hesitates. The seconds stretch into an eternity as I wonder what she’s doing, what she’s thinking. She chews on her lower lip, her gaze swinging between me and the door. Her brows pull in as she puffs out her cheeks then releases the breath. Her eyes close briefly before returning to mine, heated, passionate, unwavering.
“Oh, fuck it.” She rushes toward me, grabs my face in her hands, and crushes her lips to mine.
I freeze, not moving, not breathing, not thinking, momentarily stunned by her unexpected assault, every synapse in my body firing. I’ve imagined this moment for too long now, using the memory of her kisses the night of Brody Carmichael’s party to get me through the most difficult times in my life. I loved the taste of her back then, but that’s no match to how amazing she tastes now, her lips no longer those of a young, timid girl. This is a woman who knows exactly what she wants out of life. And she chose me. Finally.
With a moan, my hands go to her hips and I lift her onto the island, forcing her legs around me as I deepen the kiss. I never want to stop kissing her, feeling her, being with her. I tug her even harder against me, but it’s still not enough. Her tongue dances with mine, greedy but reverent at the same time. Her kiss lights me up, sets me on fire, the way her body fits into mine pure perfection.
Panting, I tear away from her, needing to make sure she’s okay with this, that she doesn’t regret it. Her own chest rising and falling from her labored breathing, neither one of us says anything for several long moments. I don’t know what to say. We’ve crossed the line both of us have fought against. I should feel guilty, should feel horrible for what I’m doing to Wes. This is Brooklyn. Not just some woman I’m hooking up with and never intend to see again. This is a woman I’ve loved my entire life, a woman I’ll always love, no matter what happens.
When I don’t say anything, she quickly lowers her head. “I’m sorry.” She attempts to scoot off the island. “I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have—”
“Don’t.” I capture her protest with a kiss, preventing her from escaping. My hold on her tightens. “Don’t apologize. I just need…” I trail off.
“Yes?” She meets my gaze.
I moisten my lips. “I need more.”
With a growl, I bring my lips back to hers, kissing her as if my heart will stop without it, as if her mouth moving against mine is the only thing that makes sense, as if her breath filling my lungs is the only thing keeping me alive.
“I’ve been such an idiot.” My voice is soft as I cup her cheeks, at complete odds with the ravenous way I just kissed her. My hand traces the edges of her face. It’s one I’ve seen nearly my entire life. It’s one I thought I lost years ago. I won’t lose her again, no matter what it takes.
She drapes her arms over my shoulders, her fingers running through my hair. It’s such an innocent touch, but it sparks a yearning deep inside. “We don’t have to live in the past anymore. We don’t have to live with our regrets. We can start over. Today. Right now. We can forget everything and start
fresh.” A thoughtful expression crosses her face. “We can go back to the start.”
I can’t help but chuckle at the memory her words conjures up. Almost twenty years have passed since I said the very same thing to her. “The start?” I arch a brow.
She nods. “Yes. The start. Where we don’t have to let the past define us because there is no past. There’s just right now.”
“I like the sound of right now.” I cover her lips with mine as she hooks her legs around my waist. The subtle circling motion of her hips drives me crazy, making me forget about everything for a moment. No other woman has ever brought me peace like this.
I trail my mouth down her jawline, burying my head in the crook of her neck. She tightens her hold on me, her fingers clawing into my back, my thin white t-shirt not much of a barrier between our two bodies. The way she touches me is enthralling and hypnotizing, an insatiable thirst filling me. It doesn’t matter how many times I kiss this woman, how many times I inhale her scent, how many times I taste her delicious skin. I doubt I’ll ever get my fill.
With a moan, she throws back her head, giving me better access. My hands roam her body. She’s warm, needy, and absolute perfection. She pulls me tighter, her breathing becoming even more uneven. My chest heaves as my lips travel down her neck, along her collarbone, and up her jawline. I have no memory of the last time I kissed her, made her moan, made her hum. I plan on relishing every nip, every tug, every whimper, never forgetting what it feels like to love Brooklyn.
“Drew,” she begs, pulsing against me. I pull away, stealing a glance at her face. There’s no mistaking the ecstasy filling her, her eyes closed, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted.
“Yes?” I say in a coy voice.
She meets my fiery gaze. This moment is more intense, more powerful, more gratifying than I thought it would be. Her hands grip my face and she forces my mouth back to hers. “Don’t stop,” she whimpers against my lips. “Don’t ever stop.”
I kiss her again, this time harder, deeper, more frantic, more greedy, more everything. She reaches for my t-shirt and fumbles with it, ripping it over my head, our mouths parting just for an instant. When she returns her hands to me, the feel of flesh against flesh makes me crave her even more. Delirious, I yank off her shirt, leaving her in just her bra and yoga pants. With a shaky breath, I step back, making her loosen the grip her legs have around my waist. As I run my hands through my hair, I take a moment to admire her.
Brooklyn’s never been one to show off her physique, often covering it with t-shirts and jeans. She rarely wore tight-fitting shirts or dresses. I remember the attention she got in high school when she started filling out. I put the fear of God into anyone who so much as looked at her in a way I thought was inappropriate. Now, as she chews on her bottom lip, I can’t help but think she’s never grown comfortable with her body, which is ridiculous. She’s one of the most stunning and alluring women I’ve ever seen.
“Drew…” Her voice is timid, a hint of fear filling her eyes as I study her.
She starts to cover herself with her arms, but I’m in front of her in an instant, preventing her from doing so. “You are so fucking beautiful,” I murmur, bringing my lips back to the skin of her neck. “But I’m not quite sure that word does you justice, my bewitching, captivating Brooklyn.”
In one swift move, I wrap an arm around her back and the other under her legs, scooping her off the island, cradling her.
“Drew! Put me down!” she whisper-shouts, swatting at me as I carry her toward the living room.
“Not a chance in hell. I’m never putting you down again.”
As I lay her on the couch, she gives me a coquettish look, biting her lower lip. I go to her, slithering up her body. Her legs fall on either side of me, her hair sprawled out behind her making her look like the goddess I’ve always thought her to be.
Propping myself onto my forearms, our lips meet again. I leisurely run my hand along the exposed flesh of her stomach, then tear my mouth from hers, traveling down her body. I want to take my time, but a primal need to taste every inch of her fills me, pushing me forward. When I get to the line of her bra, I float my eyes back to hers. We’re about to cross a very firm line. There’s no turning back after this. There’s no being just friends if it doesn’t work out between us. Then again, we’re fooling ourselves to think we’ve ever truly just been friends.
She eyes me seductively as she lifts herself up and unclasps her bra, tossing it onto the floor.
“Brooklyn,” I groan as I lower my mouth to her, my tongue tracing circles around her nipple.
“Oh god…” Her words are like a prayer. She runs her fingers through my hair, her hips moving in a tantric circle below me. “I didn’t think I’d ever feel this again.” Her nails dig into my scalp, her breaths coming closer together. I take her nipple in my mouth, the taste of her better than I could have imagined. When I nibble, she moans, her legs tightening around my waist, her fingers gripping my hair.
“You like that?”
“Don’t stop,” she begs, almost as if she’s in another world, another place, another time.
“Never. I’ll never stop giving you everything you deserve, making you feel how much I crave you, letting you know how much I need you in my life.” Fevered eyes meet mine. “But not just as a friend. Never as a friend again.”
“Never,” she murmurs as my lips find hers, two interlocking pieces of the same puzzle. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, more than most men my age. For the longest time, I thought the only thing I did right was being a father. But I must have done something else to deserve this woman, this moment, this second chance. I’ll forever be grateful to whatever power brought Brooklyn back to me, despite our tortured past.
My mouth begins its journey back to her chest, wrapping around her other nipple. Her body warms beneath me, her hips circling. I float my hand down her side, her stomach clenching the farther south I get. When my hand disappears between our two bodies, every muscle in my body tightens. I rub between her legs, her pants a rather unwelcome barrier.
“I feel how hot you are for me,” I groan, caressing and craving. Her eyes roll into the back of her head, her eyelids fluttering closed as she succumbs to me. “Say you want me.”
“I want you,” she repeats, a slave to my demand.
“Say you need me.”
“I need you,” she moans, her body writhing beneath mine. “God, Drew, I need you right now.” Her fists clench and unclench, her chest rising and falling with her frenzied breathing.
I move my hand to the waistline of her pants, dipping a finger beneath, licking my lips at what we’re about to do. When I go to push her pants down, her entire body stiffens, her eyes flinging open, as if someone’s flipped the switch, forcing her out of her desire-induced trance.
“Wait.” She shakes her head, biting her lip. “We can’t do this.”
I blink repeatedly, swallowing hard, a giant bucket of ice water thrown over me. “I thought…”
Her expression lightens as she reaches for my face, cupping my cheek. “Right now. We can’t do this right now.” She runs the pads of her thumbs along my lower lip. “That night all those years ago, you stopped me right before I pushed your pants off. You told me you wanted to be sober the first time we made love.”
My heart squeezes when I hear her speak of that night. I hate that I can’t remember it, hate that I got so drunk and have no recollection of the first time I was with Brooklyn, regardless that we didn’t have sex.
“You deserve the same from me,” she says.
I furrow my brow. “But you are sober.”
A breathtaking smile crosses her face and she brings her mouth to mine, her kiss leaving me desperate for more. “You wanted to be sober so I’d have all of you that first time.”
I close my eyes, releasing a long sigh, knowing what she’s referring to.
“You need to have all of me, and right now, you won’t. You deserve a Brooklyn who’s free from her past. I have
loose ends I need to tie up. As much as I want you right now, and I can’t even put into words how badly I want you right now, it’s not fair to any of us.”
My head hangs low as I draw in a long breath. We probably already did more today than she’s comfortable with, given her current status with Wes. She needs to put that relationship to bed before beginning something with me. She wants to go back to the start. She can’t do that with Wes still in the picture.
“It sucks, but you’re right,” I sigh. “We need a clean slate.”
“We owe that to ourselves…and each other.” She lifts her lips to meet mine. “Back to the start.”
“The start,” I repeat, then kiss her sweetly. Just the feel of that soft flesh sends me into overdrive again. “When does Wes come home?”
“Next Friday. His flight gets in around five in the afternoon.”
“What do you plan on doing?” I shift my position so I’m no longer on top of her.
“I can’t lead him on any longer than I already have.” She throws her legs over the side of the couch and sits up. I grab a blanket off the back and wrap it around both our bodies, covering her up. “I’d hate to be all ‘Welcome home. By the way, I don’t want to marry you anymore.’ I just don’t see any other option. I told him I’d go over to his place and stay the night.” She shifts her eyes to mine, smiling coyly. “But I believe my plans have changed.”