My torso was splotched with purple and red bruises, yellow ringing them. It wasn’t a pretty sight. I tried to cover myself when he released my wrists to gingerly touch my ribs.
“No,” he ordered, pushing my hands away. “Don’t fuckin’ hide from me, Ember.”
“Please,” I whispered, my voice cracking.Ididn’t even like looking at the horrible reminder of what I ran from. I sure as heck didn’t want Brent gazing down at it.
Softly, his hands rested over my rib cage while his eyes searched mine for what seemed like forever. “Okay…okay,” he whispered, gently pulling my shirt back down. I breathed a sigh of relief.
He reached to the floor, grabbing his pants.
I blinked, and then seized his arm. “What are you doin’?”
“Darlin’, we aren’t doing anything tonight,” he told me firmly, his accent disappearing, while he shook his pants out.
“The heck, you say,” I shouted, grabbing his pants and tossing them. “I’m not about to let some darn bruises stop me.”
“It’s not the bruises stopping this from happening.” He stared me straight in the eye, serious…and…changed. Yeah, I didn’t know everything about him anymore. He tapped my forehead with his index finger. “You aren’t ready up here.”
Silence.
My body quivered.
…not in humiliation.
…not in discomfort.
…not in grief.
Anger. Yes, in anger, I shook.
I pointed a furious, trembling finger and spouted words I didn’t think I would ever say, “Fuck you, Brent Christopher Terrance.” If he thought that bastard had broken me, he had another think coming.
Brent’s eyes widened in astonishment. Yeah, I had never cursed before. So what?
Taking advantage of his surprise, I wrenched my shirt over my head and straddled him as fast as I could. He wasn’t getting away, darn it. We had unfinished business to attend to.
“Darlin’,” he sputtered, gripping my hips to hold me back.
“No,” I muttered, gripping his chin so I could look him in the eye. “I want this. I want you inside me. Think you can handle that?”
A pause. His lips twitched. “There you are. Glad you could make it back so we could enjoy ourselves.”
His grip tightened on my hips and he tossed me on my back. I squealed. He grinned, spreading my legs and sinking between my thighs, his face over mine. I punched his arm. The jerk had tricked me! How he always knew what to do, and say, to bring me out of a funk was obviously still a functioning aspect of the Brent I knew so long ago. Although, his tactics had changed slightly. I would have to remember that.
He laughed, dropping his lips to my neck. I muttered, “I can’t believe you pulled that reverse psychology crap on me.”
“I can’t believe you said…” He lifted his head. Glanced left, then right. Wrinkled up his nose and whispered covertly, “fuck.” He grinned then, his body shaking with suppressed laughter. “You aren’t going to faint are you?”
Ohhh!Big ‘ol jerk.
“Just shut up and kiss me,” I mumbled, a blush rising to my cheeks.
He obliged, ever the southern gentleman.
His mouth journeyed from my lips to my earlobe, sucking softly.Aw, he remembered.
I groaned and fisted my hands in his curls, grinding against his cock nestled between my thighs. He moaned against my neck, both of his hands finding my breasts and kneading softly. Heat unfurled in the pit of my stomach, shooting lightning bolts of need straight to my core. My breasts swelled and my nipples beaded under his gentle caresses. I was slowly burning in pleasure.
My hands greedily explored his body. He had changed in the five years since I last saw him. His shoulders were more broadand his muscles thicker. I dug my fingers into them, wanting to feel all of him at once.
