Page 50 of Fighting for You
Once we’re inside, he slips my jacket off my shoulders and hangs it beside his in the coat closet, and I slip off my shoes. Then he steps into me and brushes the curls off of my face. The heat from his body seeps into me, and my eyes flutter closed in anticipation of his lips on mine.
But the kiss never comes. Instead, he asks, “Can I get you a drink?” I blink my eyes open, and he’s smirking down at me. Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Sure, what are my options?” I try to keep the irritation out of my voice, reminding myself we have all night. I feel like an addict looking for her next hit. The overwhelming lust I felt at the drive-in still simmering below the surface.
Just as quickly as he invaded my space, he’s gone. I follow him like a lost puppy to the kitchen.
“I’ve got water, obviously. Beer… I can probably find some wine. Sweet tea?” he says, eyeing the contents of the fridge.
“Sweet tea sounds great, thanks,” I say, and he pulls out a glass pitcher. He pours the amber liquid into two glasses and hands one to me. I take a sip and hum when the sugary drink hits my tastebuds. I look over to Brooks, who’s taking his own sip, but his face twists in a grimace, and he puts the glass back on the counter, pushing it away slightly.
“You don’t like…” I trail off at the realization. “Brooks?”
“Hmm?”
“Did you make this just for me?” I ask, a smile slowly stretching across my face.
“I mean… I know you don’t drink much, so…” He shuffles around a bit, clearly uncomfortable with where the conversation has led.
I step over to him, close enough to crowd him, and place my glass next to his on the counter. Putting my hands on his chest, I run them up to his shoulders just as his come up to my hips, tugging me closer still. With our eyes locked, I push up onto my tiptoes and press my lips to his. It’s soft at first, sweet, tentative, but then a dam bursts, and we wrap ourselves around each other.
Surprising myself, I use my tongue to seek out access to his. He greedily opens, one hand sliding up to cup my head.
We kiss right there in his kitchen for a long time—hours, days, a year. At this point, I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life just like this, pressed against his hard body, his hands running through my hair, tugging deliciously at the roots every once in a while.
I eventually come up for air as he kisses down my neck. But there’s no air to be found. I’m panting and burning up with desire from the inside. I feel like I might combust at any second.
“Take me to bed.” The words tumble out of my mouth before I even make the conscious decision to say them, but I find I mean them wholeheartedly. I can’t think of anything I want more in this moment than all the dirty, sweet things I know he can do to my body.
Brooks pulls back, and his pupils are blown wide. He gives me one more lingering kiss and says, “Lead the way.”
Hand in hand, we make our way up the stairs, back to the room I woke up in a few days ago. After flipping the switch, the room is bathed in a dim light from the lone lamp on a desk in the corner. Everything looks the same as when I last saw it, except the bed is neatly made. The image of Brooks getting his house ready in case I agreed to come back with him makes me smile, and those darn butterflies take flight again.
I feel his warmth behind me as he leans down and kisses the side of my neck. It’s tender, unhurried, and goosebumps eruptdown my arms. I turn in his hold and remove my shirt, dropping it to the floor. His eyes bounce down to my blush pink bra.
Running a finger along the strap on my shoulder, he hooks it under and slides it down.
“I love these so much,” Brooks says as he skims the pads of his fingers across the many freckles on my clavicle, down my chest, all the way to my nipple, gently circling it through the lacy fabric. “I’ve been thinking about them since the first day we met. Wondering if they’re everywhere.”
“They are,” I whisper, mainly because I can’t get my voice to work properly.
He hums and glides a hand to my back, unclasping my bra in one quick move. It joins my shirt on the floor.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he says as he unbuttons his own shirt. His eyes don’t stray from me, and they’re filled with lust and wonder, like he can’t believe this is really happening.
My skin is buzzing, and I feel like I’m vibrating with the desire I feel for this man. He’s awoken something in me, and as much as I love the slow approach he’s taking, the sheer need within me wins out, and I launch myself at him. Brooks lets out a surprised grunt and scrambles to catch me as I wrap my legs around his hips and practically maul him.
He chuckles into my mouth and steps over to the bed, where he lays me down, covering my body with his but still holding up most of his weight on his arms. Our tongues tangle, and I finally have a chance to skim my hands down his strong, smooth back. I touch as much as I can, memorizing each lean muscle and divot.
Brooks grinds his hips into my spread thighs and groans. My jeans prevent me from finding any real friction from the movement, and I groan too, but it’s more in frustration than pleasure. Brooks smiles against my lips and pulls up to his knees as he says, “Need something, Freckles?” His smile is smug as I nod quickly. “Tell me.”
“Ju-just… touch me. Anywhere. Everywhere.” My tone is pleading and on the verge of desperate as my hands fist the comforter.
“I got you, baby.” He deftly undoes my jeans and slides them down my legs, leaving me in just my soaked panties. His eyes drink in all of me, shifting from one part of my body to the other, like he can’t decide where to look.
His fingers then come up to grip the sides of my lacy underwear and slowly—ever so slowly—he slips them down my thighs, knees, calves, and finally off over my feet.
He grabs my left foot, gently kissing the arch, before moving to my ankle and planting a soft kiss there too. “I—I’m clean,” he murmurs against my calf, his breath skittering against my skin, making it pebble.
