Page 81 of Falling into Place
Without warning, he was gone.
“Give me a second,” he said brusquely, and walked out of the room.
She blinked, her heart still racing, and pressed her palms flat against her stomach as she stared at the empty doorway. God, it took mere seconds for her to get lost in this man. Probably wasn’t the best idea to get him all hot and bothered before going to a work function ... She couldn’t blame him for needing a second to cool off.
She needed several.
Less than a minute later, he came back into the room, strides long and purposeful. He tossed his phone on the dresser while the other hand yanked at his tie, his gaze locked on her face.
His hand gripped the back of her head. “Gala’s off,” he rasped, and kissed her.
She kissed him back for a beat before her brain caught up, and she pulled her face back. “Wait, what?”
He stared at her mouth with unfocused eyes. His hand was at her thigh, sliding underneath the hem of her sundress to grip her skin. “I called James.” He dipped his head and kissed her jaw, then inhaled deeply as if he could pull her straight into his lungs. “Told him to tell the chief I’m sorry but I couldn’t make it.”
“Oh,” she said, and it sounded like a question. She leaned her head back with a sigh. Of their own volition, her hands went to work undoing the tie he’d just spent several minutes tying. “Are you sure?”
“Never been more,” he murmured against her skin. Once his tie was undone, he snapped it free and tossed it behind him. He stopped for a second. “Wait, are you supposed to be somewhere?”
“Nope.” She untucked his shirt and slid her hands underneath in search of his warm, bare skin. Kendall would understand.
He ducked his head even lower, and his lips met her shoulder as he slowly slid the strap of her dress down. It usually took her longer to get in the right headspace for sex, but he’d basically just done a reverse striptease for her, which, as a fashion expert, had the same effect that taking clothes off probably had on most people.
Also, it had been way too long.
She was hot and bothered and impatient, and needed his body on hers now. She’d never needed someone as bad as she needed Brooks, something she should probably evaluate later.
She stepped back and pulled the dress over her head, letting it fall to the floor in one fluid motion. She’d taken off her shoes when she’d come in, so she stood before him barefoot and wearing only her black bra and matching underwear.
His hand covered his mouth and he tipped his head back for a second, closing his eyes as he inhaled deeply. A sliver of self-consciousness fluttered through her, but then he was moving, working the buttons on his shirt with impressive speed, and the oxford joined her dress on the floor. His strong arms closed around her waist, lifting her and tossing her onto the bed with a delighted squeak.
She opened her mouth to say something, and he gave her a stern look (wow).
“If you’re about to say something about messing up the bed, I don’t want to hear it.”
A delighted laugh bubbled up, surprising her. When was the last time she’d laughed—or even smiled—during sex? Yes, sometimes it was serious and intense, but gosh, it could also be fun.
“Actually it was a cucumber joke.”
He put a knee on the bed and pinched her side lightly, and she yelped and scrambled to make room as he joined her. One hand wrapped around her thigh and his lips slid along her hip, stilling her movement. His tongue traced from her hip bone to her belly button, and her smile slowly faded as sensation took over and her mouth fell open on a sigh.
She ran her hands along his shoulders and down the ridges of his arms as he worked his way up her body, slowly, kissing trails and paths and discovering where she liked to be touched and the many, many places she was ticklish. The rest of their clothes came off, and feeling his naked body against hers was better than the slide of a silk chemise on her skin.
By the time he made it back up she was ready to fuse her lips to his and feel his skilled tongue in her mouth, but he paused, hovering above her with palms pressing into the mattress. Their gazes locked and his expression was so sweet and affectionate, all she could do was lie there and let it wash over her like a cool breeze on a summer day.
“Are you done laughing?” He smiled crookedly, his eyes moving back and forth between hers.
“I hope not,” she said honestly. “I don’t remember the last time I’ve been this happy.”
His chin fell to his chest for the briefest moment, as if that was more than he could take. Was it too much? Should she not have said that?
But he just lowered his body closer to hers, pulling a gasp from her lungs, and touched his forehead to hers. “Me either.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Brooks
The Martin Special
