As we pulled into his garage, he sighed, rubbing a hand along my thigh. “We should probably talk about everything that happened.” His voice was rough, weighed down with exhaustion.
“But can it wait until later?”
He smiled, kissing the back of my hand. “Yeah, baby. It can wait.”
The second the car was in park, I slid across the middle console, not caring that my dress hiked up my thighs or that a bed was less than a minute away. Right now, I only cared about him. His hands were already on me, sliding up my thighs, gripping my ass as I settled over his lap.
“It was only four days,” I murmured, pressing my lips to his jaw, feeling the scratch of his stubble against my skin. “But I missed you.”
“Yeah?” His voice was rough, his breath hot against my ear. He nipped at my earlobe, his hands squeezing me tighter. “Mutual feeling, Mitch. Fuck, I missed the hell out of you.”
The way he said it sent a shiver down my spine. It wasn’t just lust, wasn’t just need—it was something deeper, something I hadn’t let myself feel until now.
I rocked my hips against his growing erection, swallowing the moan that tried to escape my throat. But before I could get too lost in him, he suddenly gripped my waist and stood, hauling me out of the car like I weighed nothing.
“Hey, what are you doing?” I half-laughed, half-gasped, clutching his shoulders.
“I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to touch you again,” he said, voice hoarse as he kicked the car door shut. His lips were on me before I could answer, his hands gripping my thighs as he pressed me against the hallway wall.
His kiss was desperate, hungry, wild. There was no teasing, no hesitation—just pure, unfiltered need. His scruff scratched against my lips, his tongue claiming mine, and God, I could drown in this.
“Fuck, you taste perfect,” he groaned, his forehead pressing to mine, both of us panting, clinging to each other. “I love it.”
“Shirt off,” I demanded, still breathless, tugging at the hem.
He chuckled darkly, pressing his body harder against mine as I dragged the fabric over his shoulders and tossed it to the floor. His body was all heat and hard muscle, his skin burning under my fingertips.
“Your body makes me do stupid, stupid things,” I whispered, trailing my fingers down the ridges of his abs, memorizing every inch of him.
“Yeah?” His voice was low, rough. He slid his hands up my thighs, pushing my dress up until it pooled at my hips, leaving me in nothing but my black lace bra and panties. “What kinda things?”
“Like letting you fuck me against a wall,” I breathed, arching into him, silently begging for more.
But instead of giving me what I wanted, he bit down on my bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, teasing me with his tongue.
“Ugh,” I groaned, gripping his biceps as frustration curled low in my stomach. “You make me forget my name.”
“Good,” he murmured, but then he stopped. He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes wild, dark, full of every emotion I had been too afraid to name.
“You’re perfect for me in every way,” he whispered.
My breath hitched. For a second, I thought I might actually say it. The words were right there, bubbling up inside me. But I wasn’t ready, not yet. So instead, I kissed him.
Slow and playful. Teasing. Pulling back when he tried to deepen it, making him chase me.
I had never let a kiss be this much before. I poured myself into it, into the way our tongues tangled, into the way my nails dragged down his chest, into the way his hands tightened on my hips like he never wanted to let go.
He lifted me from the wall, still devouring my mouth, and carried me to his bedroom. When my back hit the mattress, he was already stripping me down, his fingers dragging my panties down my legs, his mouth following the path, teasing, tasting, claiming.
“Shit, Brooks!” I gasped as his tongue flicked against my clit, my back arching off the bed.
“You’re already so wet.” His voice was pure sin, his grin smug as he kissed his way back up my body. “I wanted a taste.”
His lips brushed mine, his weight settling over me, and then he was unbuttoning his pants, shoving them off, along with his boxers.
I swallowed hard, staring at him. God, he was beautiful.
He hovered over me, his fingers skimming my jaw, my collarbone, my chest. “You are everything,” he whispered, his lips following his touch.
