I smile against his mouth, and when he slides his tongue between my lips in a way that reminds me exactly of how he was licking me last night, I feel it between my legs, and I practically pant into the kiss.
But then the phone starts to vibrate again.
“Motherfucker.” Brookes tears away from me, glaring down at his phone.
“Just answer it,” I manage between my racking breaths, pushing my hair back from my flushed face.
His eyes meet mine, and they’re clouded with anger and frustration and maybe something else I can’t quite pin point, but I’m not sure. Finally, he relents, and with a chaste kiss to my cheek, he turns and answers the call with a gruff, “Yeah?” and I’m left standing here gasping for a breath I can’t quite seem to catch, my knees trembling like they’re about to give out on me at any second.
I wake with a start. Sitting up, I search the space, taking a moment to remember where I am. Rubbing my gritty eyes, I glance at the clock on the nightstand. It’s after ten. Jesus. I really was wiped.
Brookes took longer on his call than I expected, so I snuck in and took a shower. When I finished and found him still on the phone looking none too happy about the situation, I decided to lie down in bed and work on some sketches. But if my sketch book lying on the floor is any indication, I must have passed out from sheer exhaustion, and now it’s ten p.m.
The door to the bathroom is slightly ajar, and I can hear the shower running, the light from inside seeping out just enough for me to see through the darkness. Hopping out of bed, I pick up my sketch book and place in onto my nightstand, then smooth down my oversized t-shirt and pad out of the bedroom in search of water. But, as I pass the bathroom door, I make the totally intentional mistake of peering in. When I catch a glimpse of Brookes in the reflection of the steamed mirror, I almost trip over nothing at all.
Rooted to the floor, it’s as if I’m locked in a trance, watching as he stands there under the steady flow of water, rivulets streaming down his strong back, and that ass. Oh my God, that ass. So firm and round and tight, I’m forced to grip onto something to stop myself from buckling, but as I reach for the door jam, I accidentally knock the door and the damn thing swingsopen, and suddenly I’m standing here like a goddamn pervert right as Brookes turns around.
But instead of alarm at seeing me frozen, like a deer caught in headlights, Brookes simply lifts his chin, his eyes trailing down my body, lips twitching with the hint of a smirk. And it’s only then that I see it. Right there gripped in his fist. Holy shit.
My eyes blow out and my throat is suddenly drier than the Mojave.
Rodrigo was right.
It’s so long and hard and thick. And I can’t stop staring directly at it.
Brookes strokes himself, slow yet determined, every pass causing his stacked abs to tighten. I swallow hard, tearing my eyes from hismonster cock. Glancing up, I catch his cocky grin combined with the look of lust in his eyes, and I’m suddenly forced to cross my legs at the ankles, squeezing my thighs in some pathetic attempt to quell the sudden ache blooming in my core.
“Like what you see, Pops?” Brookes’ low, gravelly voice cuts through the sound of the water falling. Biting down on his bottom lip, he breaks eye contact, looking down at himself. And, of course, I follow suit, watching as he pumps himself hard a few times, the muscles in his strong thighs clenching with the movement.
Like a moth ready to sacrifice itself to a pretty flame, I practically float into the bathroom, my gaze set firmly on Brookes’ dick, watching, enamored as he continues jerking himself off, nothing but the slightly fogged pane of glass separating us.
“Truth or dare,” he rasps, sucking in a breath between his teeth.
“Truth,” I answer, my voice wavering nervously.
“What are you thinking right now?”
I swallow hard again, watching his every move. “I’m thinking how thatthingwill never fit inside of me.”
Brookes chuckles low, the sound hitting me right in the vagina.
“Oh, don’t you worry, baby,” he coos. “We’ll make sure it fits.”
My heart races, my stomach in knots, but in the best possible way. I’m nervous and anxious and a little scared. But I’m also excited. More excited than I ever have been. Sex has always been terrifying for me. And anything sex-related that could potentially escalate to the deed itself has only ever felt like an arduous task, something I’ve always done everything I can to try to avoid. Even kissing raises alarm bells in my central nervous system because I know what kissing can lead to. But between last night and today, something happened. I can’t explain it. But now, it doesn’t seem so scary…
“Take off your panties.”
Snapping out of my thoughts, I look up, meeting his eyes, seeing something playful yet contradictingly demanding in his gaze. And, as if I’m no longer in control of my own inhibitions, I do as he says. Sliding up the hem of my t-shirt, I link my fingers into the waist of my cotton panties and slide them down all the way before kicking them off to the side.
A slow grin curls Brookes’ lips. “Good girl.”
My heart jolts at the praise.
“Now, I want you to go over there and sit up on the counter.”
Confused, but not willing to question him, I turn to the counter and pull myself up to sit on it, watching him and waiting for what, I don’t know.
“Spread those pretty thighs.” Brookes juts his chin, eyeing my legs.
