COTTON
BRODIE WALKED INTO THE BEDROOM AND SET ME ON THE EDGE OF THE BED, COVERED IN ITS COZY QUILT.Taking a step back, he pulled his shirt off with a hand to its collar, then let it drift to the floor. My hands went to my own shirt and he watched, eyes intent, as I removed it.
Stepping back to the bed, he ran the backs of his hands in the lightest of grazes over the tops of my breasts where they rose from my bra. At my indrawn breath, he cupped them, circling his thumbs over my nipples before bending to take one into his mouth. Through the lace of my bra he suckled hard, drawing the bud tight with his tongue and lips before moving to the other.
One hand moved to my back, where he unclasped my bra with a single skilled flick of his hand. “Impressive.” I breathed the word out on a shaky laugh and held his head to me as he continued to minister to my breasts. Until now I’d been the kind of girl who could do without that kind of foreplay. My breasts were ultra-sensitive, and it had always been uncomfortable rather than a turn on. Brodie knew just how to touch me, though, to send lust curling deep within my stomach: firm and confident with no fucking around as if they were an especially fascinating novelty.
When he drew back to look at me, I followed his gaze down to where they were flushed and glistening from his mouth. I was on the small side, my years of running leaving me toned and lean rather than lush and curvy.Too small.I started to cover myself, but he moved my hands aside, then dropped a fingertip down to trace the tender underside of one breast. “You’re a stunner, my girl,” he gritted out, his brogue thicker than usual.
It made me smile.
Lifting my hands, I brought them to his collarbones, then drew them across the firm flesh of his shoulders and down the corded lengths of his arms. Back again, to his shoulders and down, this time around his pectorals and then further, a light skim of his lats and abs. Brodie Gallagher was a beautiful man, and it made my female heart sing hallelujah. “Aye and you’re a wee bit of a stunner yourself, Kidnapper.”Keep it light.Sex was sex. It was fun—or at least, it had been fun. I needed to keep it that way.
He narrowed his eyes in mock anger. “A wee bit?”
“Perhaps I misspoke…” His stomach jumped under my exploration, and I leaned forward to flick my tongue against one flat nipple.
His hands were at my waist, fingers dipping beneath the elastic of both leggings and panties and pulling them slowly down. I lifted my hips to help him and then reclined back on my elbows. “Now you.” The demand, inconsequential though it was, made me feel some measure of control.
Brodie didn’t hesitate, hands swiftly shoving pants and boxer briefs down until they reached his ankles. Panic flashed when I saw his cock, standing hard and ready at the juncture of his thighs, and I closed my eyes. As light as I was trying to keep this, as driven by passion as I was, the memories were still right there.
I opened my eyes as he kicked at his pants to free his feet, cursing in Gaelic as they tangled and he half-fell on me.Smooth.His klutziness distilled the moment of fear and a giggle escaped. With a severe look and a hot kiss, he silenced me, lifting me to scoot me further back and then crawling until he was sprawled above, holding himself up by his elbows. Our tongues tangled and dueled, his mouth licking and nipping with a ferocity that stole my breath. As he kissed his way down my neck, I lowered my hand to touch him, knowing this would reveal better than anything my readiness. He was silk over steel, long and thick against my leg. At the touch of my hand, his breath hissed out between his teeth, as if he hadn’t been expecting it.
“None of that unless you want this to be over with immediately,” he said. Dipping his head, he returned to my mouth, his lips declaring dominance over mine. It should have scared me, but it felt too good, and I clutched at him to pull him closer still, until the heat of his skin branded mine.
He groaned at the sensation. “Fuck, Em. You feel so good.”
He went from easy to intense in the space of the sentence. His hands were suddenly everywhere all at once, stroking, squeezing, teasing until I broke away from his mouth, gasping. Every thought, every feeling, every sensation was spinning, faster and faster the way the world had done when I tucked and rolled down a hillside as a kid. Slow at first, then with gathering momentum, until colors blurred and up was down and speed became solace because the end—
The end would hurt.
I stilled beneath his questing fingers and seeking mouth, tried to quiet therolling thumping racingof my heart. Tried to ignore the scent of pine needles in my nose, the feel of dirt beneath my fingers.It wasn’t real. You’re not there. Compressing my lips, I tried to still the trembles.
Brodie calmed with me, pressing his forehead into the space between my shoulder and my jaw before lifting his head and searching my eyes with his. His words were careful. “Are you…?Macushla, we don’t have to do this. We can eat popcorn and drink cocoa and…shite. I don’t know. We can just talk.”
God, this man.I offered him my body and he offered me conversation. He could see what I didn’t want to admit, what I didn’t want to be true.I wanted this. I did. I was in control—
“I want this,” I insisted, jaw clenching. I stared at the hollow of his neck. “I want it, and I need it, now.”
His brow creased as he looked down at me. There was still a question there, and part of my soul broke apart when he spoke. “You want it but you don’t wantme…you’re not ready.”
“Wha—?” Tears pricked behind my eyes as he shifted to sit up and I felt a different kind of heat flush my cheeks. “What the hell is this, Brodie? Are you kidding me right now?”
He stood and began pulling on his pants, leaving his shirt lying on the floor, and tossed my shirt to me. He said nothing, and I was forced to ram my head through the neckline of my shirt, pull on my panties, and follow after him. He was bent over the counter, hands clutching the edges and his head bowed. Several feet away I hesitated and grabbed hold of my wrist to anchor myself. “Brodie. I am not understanding what’s happening right now.”
Without moving, he twisted his head to look at me, his gaze touching briefly on my legs before moving back to my face. “Go put some clothes on, please.”
“But—”
“Now, damn you!” I jumped and he lifted his hands from the counter in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry, lass. I don’t mean to frighten you. But I’m trying to do the right thing here, and you’re making it really fucking difficult.”
I started to flee to the bedroom, then stopped. “I’m just going to say one thing.” Walking back to him, I poked a finger in his chest. “You are an asshole.” I turned to walk away, and then changed my mind and whirled to stick my finger in his chest again. “I say when I’m ready, not you.”Poke.“Hope you enjoyed that little interlude, because you will never, ever get within screaming distance of this again.” I channeled my inner Vanna White and swept my hand down the length of my body, while he observed me with hooded gaze.
With a final sniff, I left, returning to the bedroom, where I grabbed some clothes from the closet and carried them into the bathroom. Screw him. I didn’t need him. Or his dick. I could take care of my own self if that’s what I wanted.
Sitting on the edge of the tub, I plugged the drain and turned the taps. I desperately needed to relax. I was wound tight, a spring about to snap.
Over the sound of the rushing water, a fist sounded against the door. “Emery.”
