I sat next to her and tugged at her arms until she was leaning over me, resting her head on my shoulders. “Let it all out, come on.”
“I’m just waiting for everything to fall down around me. My career is over. You don’t get it. And I’m asking myself if I’m falling for the same shit over and over again. Picking the wrong guy.” She straightened and leaned far away from me. “I think you’re perfect, but I thought Harris was too, do you understand that? I had no idea he was doing anything wrong. I just wanted more of him and most of the time I didn’t think it was wrong. That leaves me to question what the fuck is wrong with me? What if I’m wrong about you too?”
“No, you’re right, Brooke. Definitely. I am pretty perfect,” I answered, smiling.
“And you make a fucking joke out of everything!” she said, jumping off the couch and bolting into the kitchen. I sprang up right after her and followed her inside.
“I need space,” she murmured in front of me.
“For what exactly?”
“To process!”
“Process?” I asked, cupping my hands around her face and pulling her in for a kiss. She didn’t even hesitate—didn’t pull away—just kissed me as hard as I kissed her.
Then, she was gone, shoved away from me, laughing in a bitter self-deprecating way, “You want to fuck me, because you saw those photos, right?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I want tofuckyou to erase those pictures inmyhead. Inyourhead.” I gripped her wrists and slowly pulled her back to me. Her mouth opened and closed, struggling to find words.
I brought our bodies together until our foreheads touched, and she was squeezing her eyes closed and entwining her fingers through mine. Her breaths became shallow and her body languid, “I really wish you could,” she laughed bitterly and stepped back, turning away.
“Let me try,” I whispered, making her stop mid-step and hang her head low.
Stepping forward, I slid my hands around her waist, and brought her head back up against my chest. “Tell me want you want,” I said slipping my fingers around her waistband and yanking down her pants.
Her gasp was small, but her answer was loud. “You. Ryan. I want you.”
“Lean down over the table,” I said, lifting her shirt over her head and bending her forward over the table. She slid her arms over the surface and let out a small moan.
I leaned over her, trailing my lips over her spine. Her breath hissed out a cry with my name on it, and I was instantly hard. “Pull this knee up on the table, Brooke.” My voice whispered against her skin, as I gently pushed her right leg over the top of the table, keeping the other one on the ground, spreading her wide open for me.
I sank to my knees and feasted on her wet flesh until she was gasping and squirmy, pushing herself hard against my mouth.
“Please, Ryan. Please…I need…” she chanted over and over, stumbling over the words.
Standing up, I slid my pants down and buried myself inside her with a growl. “This what you need?” I said, thrusting myself deeper and faster.
“Fuck…yes…” She groaned, her breath heavy and rasping.
She arched her back leaning her palms on the table and moved herself over me, grinding and rotating, getting me closer and closer to exploding.
Sweat broke out on my forehead. It glistened over her shoulders and at the nape of her neck. “Harder,” she begged.
“Yes ma’am,” I chuckled, gripping onto her hips and pushing into her so hard and fast that she screamed out my name, pleading for more. Our pace quickened until she was convulsing over me in a rush of warm, wet heat until I couldn’t hold off any longer, collapsing with intensity over her.
“Oh my God,” she breathed, rolling out from underneath me. She grabbed for a towel from over her sink and balled it in between her legs. “I’m so damn dizzy; I feel like I’m going to pass out.”
Laughing, but pretty unsteady on my own legs, I scooped her up, throwing the stupid towel behind us.
“But, I’m all wet,” she laughed, trying to reach for the flying towel.
“Yeah, babe. You are, and it’s sexy as hell that it’s because of us.”
I carried her into her bedroom and laid her on the bed, kissing her softly on the lips. She settled under the covers, and I tucked them up to her chin.
“You’re not coming under the covers?” she asked, softly.
I looked behind me, trying to remember where the hell my clothes went.
