Oh God.
I’ve imagined this. Imagined him. But nothing I conjured in my head comes close to the reality of Brewer Benson with his mouth on me like I’m the only thing he’s ever wanted to taste. Instinctively, I tangle my hands through his hair, tugging hard as he works me into a frenzy. He worships my clit until my arousal soaks into his beard, seeping down my legs.
“Oh, yes…”
With every shudder of pleasure, Brewer adjusts the pressure, the pace of his tongue, like he’s desperate to learn how to make me come undone.
It’s definitely working.
I’m already bucking against him, my legs trembling either side of his head.
“Fuck, sugar,” he murmurs against me. “You taste so good.”
Then I feel his fingers delving between my folds, two of them sliding into me, stretching me around him. He pumps me in a delicious rhythm, fingers curling up, still sucking greedily on my clit.
It’s too much.
I come hard, stars bursting behind my eyes as raw pleasure crashes over me. Spasms tear through my body, but Brewer doesn’t let up. He keeps working me with his fingers, thrusting them deep. My clit is over-sensitive from my orgasm, but he keeps sucking until I climax again, my walls convulsing around his invading fingers.
“Oh, Brewer!”
I’m a mess—sweaty and panting—totally spent as Brewer finally pulls back, his beard glistening with my arousal. His lips are slick, eyes wild as he stares down at me.
“Fuck, Josie, look at you.” He trails his wet fingers over my stomach, cupping my breast, brushing my pebbled nipple with his thumb until I gasp. “You have no idea how sexy you are.”
His praise warms me. I’m naked and vulnerable—exposed as a raw nerve—but I feel so comfortable beneath his gaze. It feels right. Like he’s the only man who’s meant to see me this way. But I want to see him too. I’ve been fantasizing for a month about what Brewer looks like beneath all the flannel and denim. Something tells me the reality will be even better.
“Show me,” I say, my voice a soft plea as I reach up to grab his gray flannel shirt.
Brewer hesitates before he starts to unbutton it. He shrugs it off slowly, and suddenly, I forget how to breathe.
Holy crap.
He’s enormous. I knew that. But knowing it and seeing it are two different things—the broad expanse of his chest, smattered with hair, muscles cushioned by a layer of warm flesh. The tattoos I’ve only ever glimpsed beneath rolled sleeves, sprawling across his bare arms and shoulders.
My gaze drops, and I stare openly as he gets off the bed and reaches for his jeans next, kicking them aside until he’s wearing nothing but his boxers. They’re tented by his bulge, barely containing it, and I feel a deep pang of need between my thighs as he pulls down the final layer between us.
His cock is as big as the rest of him—thick and meaty—lined with veins. My mouth goes dry as I take it in, trying to imagine how it will feel buried inside me, stretching me apart. With a shiver, my gaze flits back up to meet Brewer’s. He’s watching me carefully, like he’s bracing himself, waiting for me to flinch away from his size.
I don’t.
“Come here,” I breathe softly, stretching an arm out toward him.
He doesn’t hesitate. Something shifts in his expression as he takes my hand, his wariness giving way to something raw and unguarded. He eases onto the bed, covering my body with his, the springs groaning as he settles. His hard muscles melt against my curves, his eyes fixed on mine as he positions himself between my thighs, breathing hard.
“You’re mine, Josie,” he growls. “All mine.”
He’s right. I’ve been his ever since he walked through that diner door.
And now I know he’s mine too.
9
BREWER
I keep waitingfor the moment Josie changes her mind. Even now, with her warm and willing beneath me, I’m expecting her to flinch. Shrink away from me. Decide this was all a mistake.
But the moment never comes.
