by Penny Reid
Then, like the—adorable—idiot I was, I said, “Prove it.”
He blinked and tugged me toward him. I didn’t move at first, but he grinned wolfishly and pulled harder. My resistance was useless, and I knew exactly what he was doing. I should have stopped him, but at this point, I couldn’t.
I knew what he was doing, and I was so fucked, because I wanted him to do it.
Chapter 21
Brantley pulled me right over to him, grinning the whole time. My stomach flipped as he literally dragged me on top of him so I straddled him. My knees dug into the cushions either side of his hips, and he slid his hands up my thighs, gripping my hips, and pulling me right against him.
My crotch was nestled against his, and I swallowed hard. This was probably the most intimate position we’d ever been in. My heart beat so fast my chest ached. I didn’t know what to do with my hands or where to look—nothing.
“You’re blushing again,” he muttered, eyes finding mine. “You’re so damn cute when you blush.”
“First adorable, now cute. You’re dishing out the compliments today. Anything else you wanna call me?” My hands finally came to rest on his stomach.
“Plenty,” he said in that same, low voice.
I waited for him to elaborate, and when he didn’t, I said, “Well?”
He tilted his head to the side. “No.”
“Come on!” I tapped his chest. “You can’t say that and then stop talking. It’s going to drive me crazy.”
He smirked. “Welcome to my world.”
Ignoring that. “One. Give me one word that you think I am.”
“Well, like you said, idiot is well established…”
“I’m done.” I pushed myself off him.
Laughing, he pulled me back into him. “You asked.”
“Yes. I’m regretting it now,” I said dryly. “Are you going to be serious or not? It’s bugging me. Come on. Give me one word you think describes me.”
“Okay, all right. Fine.” He thought for a moment, meeting my eyes, then reached up and pushed my hair behind my ear in strikingly tender moment. “I think you are remarkable.”
Whoa.
That was a weighted word. And not at all what I’d expected him to say.
I wet my lips with my tongue. “Remarkable?”
“Yes.” He nodded once, his gaze never wavering from mine.
“Why?”
“You make me feel alive.”
I took a deep breath in. What was I supposed to say to that? What I wanted to ask was how—how did I do that? I didn’t do anything special. I was just me. How did I make him feel alive?
“You make me laugh,” he said softly, as if he could read my mind. “Sometimes, it feels like I’m nothing more than Dad. But, with you…When you’re around…You make me feel like I’m me again. The person, not just the parent. Almost…Happy.”
I made him feel alive.
Like himself.
Happy.
That was crazy. There was no way I had that effect on someone.
I was just me. Just Kali. Crazy and idiotic.
Not all the things he was saying.
“Stop,” I said softly, sliding my hands up his chest. “That’s not me—that’s you. That’s you living again.”
He cupped my jaw, his fingers curling over my skin. Our gazes collided, and there was no controlling the rapid-fire of my heart as my dark eyes met the turquoise perfection of his.
“Maybe it is,” he replied, tilting his head in acknowledgement of my words. “But I’d be remiss if I didn’t admit you had an awful lot to do with it.”
I swallowed hard. My thumb stroked across the soft material of his t-shirt, eliciting a shiver from him. The reaction was so unexpected my breath hitched, because realization fell at the same time.
How many times had I shivered at his touch?
I affected him the same way he affected me.
I slid my hands up his chest, and without hesitation, cupped the sides of his neck and kissed him.
I knew I shouldn’t do it, but I didn’t care. There was something deep and…jarring…about knowing that I made a difference in his life. Something that hit me hard, that made me not care anymore.
That make me want to break all the rules, even if it only lasted for right now.
My lips worked across his even as the thoughts sped through my mind. I didn’t want to stop—I couldn’t stop. In that moment, I wanted him more than I ever knew I could want a person.
I wanted to feel him, breathe him in, suffocate myself with his touch.
I didn’t care about anything other than kissing him.
And the foreign feeling took over me. Grabbed hold of every cell in my body, pushing its way through my veins until I felt it from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.
Consumed.
I was consumed with the taste of him—consumed with the way I felt when we kissed. Kissing him made me feel like all my nerve endings were fireworks, and every kiss was a fuse burning down until, finally, everything exploded, blinding me with the intensity.
Brantley flipped me over onto my back. His hard body covered mine, and I welcomed his weight as he settled over me. Our lips met again, and I sighed as his tongue found mine.
My fingers combed through his soft hair. His hand slid down my body and down my thigh, pulling my leg up as his fingers probed my thigh. A shiver ran through me when he shifted and his hardening cock pressed against my clit through my shorts. The pressure was intense, making me gasp into his mouth, and his lips twitched into a shadow of a smile.
It lasted only a second.
The amusement was quickly replaced with a raw need that tingled through my veins. The kiss moved from deep to desperate quicker than I could keep up with it, and before I knew it, my hands had slipped out of his hair and was tugging at the material of his shirt.
Up, up, up. I tugged it up his body until it was scooped under his armpits. He finally got the message, sitting up. It slid down, and he grabbed the hem and tore the shirt over his head.
My gaze flitted up and down his torso, over the hard pecs of his chest to the shadows that lined the packs of muscle on his stomach.
Steadying himself with one foot on the floor, he pinched the collar of my shirt, tugging with a half-grin on his face. His fingertips tucked beneath it, brushing my collarbones, before he sat fully upright, grabbed my arms, and pulled me up, too.
He wasted no time in sliding the shirt over my shoulders and down my arms. He threw it to the other side of the soda, then grabbed at my tank top and pulled it up. I raised my arms so he could pull it over my head.
I bit the inside of my cheek as his gaze swept over the white, lacy bra that cupped my boobs. I glanced up, and, just like that, our eyes met.
He kissed me again.
Hungrier. Harder.
Together, we sank down into the soft cushions of the sofa. His hot skin rubbed against mine, and I cupped his neck, stroked his hair, explored the muscles over his shoulders.
I wanted to touch every inch of him—map out the dips and curves of his body and commit him to memory. Revel in touching him and feeling the sensation of my fingertips across his skin.
The hair that dotted the lower half of his stomach and trailed off beneath his waistband.
The gentle bump of his shoulder muscles as they connected his neck and his shoulders.
The roughness of his stubble against my chin.
The softness of his hair between my fingertips.
The pressure of his cock between my legs…
“Daddy?” The call came from somewhere inside the house, snapping us both out of it.
“Here. I’m coming.” Brantley stood quickly and, after adjusting his pants, quickly walked into the house.
I clapped my hands over my face. My cheeks burned red-hot, and my stomach dropped with the realization I was basically half-naked, and once again, we’d been interrupted from going further by a kid.
Sitting up, I grabbed my
shirts and stood, covering my chest with them as I made my way inside. Footsteps sounded from upstairs, and I moved into the front room to put my clothes back on. I had no idea where my keys or phone were, because my mind was spinning.
Spinning with the implications of what we almost did. Of what I wanted to do—of what I never would have stopped.
My entire body buzzed with the after-effects of our make-out session. There wasn’t even enough left to regret it. I think I was past that. I think I’d long accepted that as long as I worked here, I’d have to fight with the irresistible attraction I felt for him, even though he was everything I didn’t want.
Everything I thought I never wanted, that was.
I ran my fingers through my mussed-up hair and sighed heavily. What was I doing? Had I no self-control?
No, wait. I knew the answer to that. I had none. None whatsoever.
I grabbed my tank top and put it the right way around before rolling it up and shoving over my head.
I was just about to put one arm in the right hole when I paused, catching sight of a still-shirtless Brantley in the doorway.
He quirked a brow at me. “Going somewhere?”
I cleared my throat. “Um, well…”
Slowly, he walked toward me. Step, step, step…Closing the distance between us until he was a breath away. “Going somewhere?” he repeated.
I moved back. Glancing over my shoulder to make sure I never tripped on anything, I was apparently unable to judge the distance between me and the wall and slammed back into it.
“Oh, shit,” I muttered, flattening my hands against it. I could only imagine what I looked like with my white tank hanging around my neck.
An idiot.
An idiot was the answer.
“Yes,” I replied, sinking against the wall. “Can’t you see I’m busy trapping myself against the wall like an idiot?”
Brant reached forward. His fingers curled around my shirt, and he looped it over my head, then threw it behind him to the sofa.
There was a predatory glint in his eye, one that made me shudder with anticipation. My whole body shivered with it. I was on fire where his fingertips had brushed across my collarbones.
“We’re not done,” he murmured, stepping ever closer to me, closing the distance between us completely. “They’re asleep and, right now…” he trailed off, saying nothing.
“Right now, what?” I asked.
Hesitation hitched his breath, making his chest heave, but his turquoise eyes never left mine. “Right now, you’re mine.”
“For—for what?” I stuttered. My heart thundered against my chest, because I knew exactly what for.
Brant pressed against me, cupping my face, his large hands ignoring the blistering heat of my cheeks entirely as he took control of my face. “I want you, Kali. I want you so badly that I’m on the brink right now. And I know you feel the same way—I can feel it.”
“And what do you want me to do about that?”
“Give in,” he breathed, holding himself against me. “Give in to what you know you want. You want me.”
“Maybe so, but—”
Lips.
Mine.
“I can’t,” I whispered.
“You can,” he whispered right back. “Once, Kali. Just once. Be mine. Right now. Tonight. Stop fighting it.”
He was right. I wanted him. I wanted this.
I wrapped my fingers around his neck and pulled him into me. It didn’t mean I’d be his, but for tonight, maybe he could be mine.
Pushed against the wall, he held me solid, flat, stable. I melded against the surface. He leaned into me, hands riding down, and pressed his mouth to mine.
“Trust me,” was all he whispered.
Trust him was all I could do.
His hands slid down my body. He explored my body from my head to the waistbands of my shorts. He tugged them down and let them pool at my feet. Pulling his lips away, his expectant gaze met mine, and I chewed the inside of my lip as I stepped out of them and flicked them to the side with my toe.
He trailed his gaze up and down my body a few times. I squirmed back against the wall under his scrutiny—until I looked right back at him and the bulge in his pants.
He cupped my face and kissed me, pressing his hips right against me. The kiss was deep and hungry, and as desire throbbed through my veins, I reached between us and undid the button of his jeans.
He was right.
I wanted him.
And there was nothing I could do about it.
I shoved his jeans down over his ass. He laughed against my lips as the jeans fell down to his feet. He stepped out of them and kicked them away the same way I’d done with my shorts.
With both of us in our underwear, this was the point of no return.
Fuck it.
I cupped his hard cock. My fingers brushed over his balls, and he jerked his hips into my hand. He basically pushed my hand away from him and trailed his fingertips up the inside of my thigh.
I shivered.
His fingers got closer and closer to my aching clit. I clenched, squeezing my thighs together, but with one swift movement, he slipped his fingers between my legs and brushed the pad of his thumb over my lacy thong.
Another shiver ran through me.
I took a deep breath as he toyed with the material.
“Open your legs,” he murmured, slipping my panties to the side.
I obeyed. Shuffled my feet a couple inches apart, although what I really wanted to do was clamp my legs shut.
He peered down, brushing the backs of his fingers across the mound of skin above my clit. Then, slowly, carefully, he ran one finger across my pussy.
I gasped, flinching at the contact.
“You’re so wet.” He dipped his head, kissing my neck, his finger just pushing inside me. “And you were going to leave.” Another finger joined the first inside me. Slowly, he moved his hand, his fingers pumping in and out of my wetness.
I arched my back, eyes closed.
He gripped my chin, pulling my head back down. “Open your eyes. I want you to look at me when you come.”
I couldn’t speak. But, I did as he said. Opened my eyes and met his gaze as he worked his fingers inside me.
He pulled them out, moving now to my clit. I ached so bad, and never mind that staring into his eyes while he circled his fingertips over my clit was the most awkward thing I think I’d ever done, I wanted to come.
I needed to come.
I was turned on beyond belief.
Never had I wanted something—someone—as much as I wanted this. Brantley.
I clenched and clenched as he rubbed my clit. My legs shook, and he wrapped an arm around my waist as if he knew they were ready to give out. I pressed further and further against the wall, as if I could sink into it.
Tiny moans escaped me, mingling with his harsh, heavy breaths. It was the only sound, and it took everything I had to stay as quiet as I was.
“Come,” he whispered, lips close to mine. “Come, and I’ll fuck you.”
I held on for all of thirty seconds before I gave in.
The orgasm flooded through me with a sweetness I didn’t know possible. Every part of my body was touched by it, from the hairs on the back of my neck to my aching thigh muscles. It felt so fucking good—I was both exhausted and exhilarated by it.
He held me for a moment, then he kissed me and released me. “Give me a minute. Take off the rest of your clothes while I’m gone.”
I did a double-take. “Where are you going?”
He motioned to his cock. “To get a condom.”
“Oh. I, um.” What was I doing? I’d never had sex without a condom. “You don’t…I mean…”
Spit it out, Kali.
Awkwardly, I held up my arm and pointed to the tiny scar where my contraceptive implant was. “I’m good,” I finally said. “And…I mean, I trust you.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t want me to wear a condom?”
“If you want to. I’m not stopping you. I’m just saying. I’m good.”
“You’re so awkward.” He came back to me, cupping my face. He kissed me deeply, then hooked two fingers in the sides of my thong and pushed it down my legs.
By the time I’d stepped out of them, I’d unhooked my bra and taken it off, too.
He kicked it to the side and kissed me. Deeper…harder…more desperately than before. With one hand on the back of my neck, he fidgeted. Dropped both hands. Grabbed my legs—
Heaved me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. His now-free cock brushed against my wet pussy, and I circled my arms around his neck as he grabbed my ass, using the wall as leverage.
He reached down and positioned himself to enter me. In one slow, easy thrust, he did just that.
I half-moaned, half-gasped.
God, he felt so good inside me.
Both hands now on my ass and gripping it so tight it bordered on painful, he moved, in and out, and soon enough, I adjusted to him, and it was easy.
He kissed me.
Moved faster.
Really fucked me. Like he meant it, like he needed it, like he was desperate to. Whatever it was he was feeling, he channeled it into his movements and fucked me harder and harder, his grip on my ass holding me in place.
My back arched, and I moaned, my nails dragging across his shoulders. Whether I was trying to hold onto him or push him away, I didn’t know. I was hot all over, my heart thundering, and all I wanted was to feel the release I knew was building up.
Desperation.
That’s what his kiss tasted like.
That’s what he fucked me like.
And I loved it.
I couldn’t get enough. I wanted more. More of the ass grip, of the lip bite, of the deep satisfaction I felt when he buried himself fully inside me and pressed against my clit at the same time.
More of his deep, guttural grunts of pleasure when I squeezed.
More of the hard-hitting orgasm that had me burying my face in his shoulder, my nails digging deep into his skin. Of the pleasure that wracked my body, head to toe, sending my heartbeat skyrocketing as I came hard all over him.
