Page 30 of My Ex for Christmas
“A mistake?” Something in his eyes flashes. It’s gone in a blink, but I know that look. Hurt. “Go ahead, call it a mistake and tell me that you mean it.”
I swallow thickly. “Not a mistake. But, Brooks, I can’t— We can’t.”
He prowls toward me then, water parting for him easily. I suddenly wish the hot tub was ten times bigger.
“We can. We should.”
I wet my lips as my pulse thrums. “Why?”
“Because now that I’ve had you again, I need more. Crave it.” The intensity in his words, his gaze, leaves me breathless. “And I think you do, too.”
He’s in my space now, and my traitorous eyes fall to his lips. I quickly flick them upwards, but it’s too late—he caught me.
“No,” I whisper.
“No? That’s why you’ve been avoiding me, isn’t it? Because you want this.”
Weak. I am so damnweakfor him. Always have been.
My body betrays me as my head tilts back of its own accord, allowing Brooks access to my neck. He wastes no time pressing a kiss against my pulse, followed by a flick of his tongue. Heat surges anew between my thighs.
“Will you let me, Hadley?”
“Let you what?” I murmur, lost in a cloud of lust.
He pulls back, meeting my gaze. “Let me help you unwind. I can feel how tense you are.”
And, damn me, I give in with a slow nod. Somewhere in the recesses of my brain, I curse myself for it, but I’ve been a hopeless cause since that night we slept together again. Hell, since I first saw him behind the bar at Dirty Dick’s. Our backwards slide was a forgone conclusion the moment we were reunited.
Brooks surges forward, and I meet him eagerly, our mouths slanting together. My hands roam his body, sliding over the slick skin of his chest, his sides, his back. I pull him closer, closer, so close.
His fingers trace the band of my swimsuit bottoms. I bite my tongue to stop myself from crying out—from begging for him to fuckingdo something. The ache between my thighs is verging on unbearable.
One finger slips beneath the fabric at my hip, and feeling his skin against mine makes me want to lose control.
“Brooks,” I pant.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Please.”
“You beg so fucking sweet, Hads. Do it again.”
“Brooks, please. I want you.”
I need you.
He pulls my bottoms taut, and the fabric creates a wonderful sense of friction against my clit. I can’t help but buck my hips, chasing the feeling. But then he lets go, and the pressure is gone. I groan in frustration.
“Tell me,” he says. The emotion in his voice grips me, just as his gaze does. “Tell me it wasn’t a mistake.”
“I—“ Words escape me. I want, so badly, to say it was all a slip-up. But the truth is, Ican’t. “It wasn’t a mistake, Brooks. Nothing about you has ever been a mistake.”
I can practically feel the relief sweep through his body, and then he’s on me again. When he kisses me this time, his hands slip beneath the water and drift over my hips. Then he’s pulling at my bottoms and sliding them down my legs. They land on the ground beside the hot tub with a smack.
He presses a knuckle against my bare clit, and I bite down on his lip as I moan. He pulls back with a grin.
“There she is,” he says, and I fuckingmelt.
