Page 121 of For the Boys
She was on her back in an instant, Brent’s grinning face hovering above her own. He bent down and kissed her, hard, pouring his adoration into it.
“I love you,” he whispered against her skin as he pressed his lips to the soft spot where her shoulder met her neck and trailed his tongue along her skin. “You don’t have to say it back. I just needed you to know.”
Berkley swallowed hard around the lump lodged in her throat. Though she couldn’t say it back—not yet—she imbued a long kiss with everything she was feeling. Elation, comfort, safety, and bone-deep infatuation.
But not love.
She used her body to distract him from the words she wasn’t saying, and he easily gave in.
She didn’t know if she’d ever be ready to say those three words to him.
“You’re mine, Berkley Daniels,” he growled. “No one else’s.”
“Yours,” she whispered. “And you’re mine.”
She might not love him, but she’d be damned if she let anyone else have him.
He pushed her dress up to expose her stomach, trailing kisses across it. She sat up long enough to pull it over her head and toss it onto the floor.
Their lips frantically clashed as Berkley pawed at Brent’s clothes. Growing impatient with the buttons of his shirt, she ripped it open and pushed it off his shoulders. He stood back to unzip and kick off his pants.
He grabbed her foot and pressed a kiss to the sole before working his way up her leg. When he reached her center, still hidden from him by her underwear, he pressed a kiss through the fabric. She whined in response, wanting his mouth on her.
He huffed out a laugh, his warm breath hitting her clit and causing her toes to curl. “Demanding, aren’t we?”
“Stop teasing and give me that mouth, Brent. You still have no idea what seeing you in a suit does to me.”
He pulled her panties down her legs and stood at the foot of the bed, sliding his boxers off. He stared down at her. “But you like me better out of it, right?” he asked, gesturing at his now naked body.
Berkley looked her fill, running her eyes over the muscles of his chest, stomach, arms, and thighs before resting her gaze on his dick, hard and ready for her.
“Maybe we just skip the foreplay,” she said, licking her lips.
He sank to his knees between her thighs and lined up his dick with her entrance. “If you’re sure…” he said.
Berkley nodded emphatically, mouth going dry at the sensation of his tip pressing against her. “Brent!”
“Ask nicely,” he said, gripping his dick at its base and moving it up and down through her folds.
“Please, Brent,” she breathed. “Please.”
Brent chuckled and drove into her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Brent
Brent woke in the morning in a strange hotel room with a familiar body wrapped around his own. Berkley’s face was pressed against his chest, mouth slack, eyelashes fanning across her cheeks, still flecked with mascara from the night before.
He ran his hand down the ends of her hair where it spread out over her bare back, then began to move his hand lower. She stirred when he palmed her ass. Cracking an eye open, she said, “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” he said back, grinning.
“What time is it?”
“Time for me to get up. I’ve got a press thing to get through this morning before the fun starts this afternoon.”
Berkley snuggled in closer. “No, don’t leave. Let’s just stay here and order room service and have sex all day.”
