by Ellis, Aven
Brooks turns the key in the ignition, and my pulse goes up another notch, as I know we are on our way now.
“Do you have protection at home?” I ask.
Brooks appears sheepish.
“What?” I ask, studying him as he backs out of the parking space.
“Uh . . . I got some after I started seeing you.”
I can’t help but love this with all my heart.
“So you anticipated serving me the full English soon, Dr. Martin?”
Now he’s grinning. “I hoped so, yes.”
We both laugh.
He eases onto the street, and as he comes to a stoplight, he puts his hand on my bare thigh, rubbing it up and down my skin, teasing the cuff of my shorts. Heat burns through me from the way he’s sensually stroking my leg, letting his fingertips trail oh-so-slowly up and down, and oh, sex is going to be amazing with him tonight.
“I can’t wait to be with you,” he murmurs sexily.
“Can you turn up the AC please?” I ask. “Because I’m getting hot.”
Then we both laugh. Our drive back to his house is like this—we banter, we suggest, we flirt. We’re fighting the sexual tension the best we can, and I know this verbal foreplay is only increasing both our desires.
I’m so jumping him the second we get through his door.
After a torturous drive, we finally make it back to his place. Brooks jumps out of the car and I follow suit. He comes around to my side, takes my hand in his, and quickly leads me up the sidewalk. Brooks thrusts the key into the lock, opens the door, and as soon as we’re inside, he lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist.
I slide my hands behind his neck, and his brown eyes are heat-filled as he stares at me.
Snort!
We both look down to find Angus practically smiling at us, as if he knows we’re about to have sex.
I can’t help it. I burst out laughing, and so does Brooks.
“Okay, one snack for you, Master Angus,” Brooks says, putting me down. “Because Daddy is going to be very occupied tonight.”
He quickly turns and looks at me. “Don’t move.”
I smile at him. “I won’t.”
Brooks dashes into the kitchen, and I can hear the pantry door open and shut.
“Peanut Butter Cheerios?” Brooks asks.
I hear a happy grunt in response, and I grin.
I patiently wait for him to come back, and soon he’s in the doorway, his dark brown eyes locking on mine.
My heart pounds again. Brooks strides across the hardwood floor and picks me up again, and I wrap my legs around him and lock my hands around his neck. No words are said as we gaze into each other’s eyes.
“No more interruptions,” he says sexily.
“No,” I agree.
The sexual desire hangs in the air between us. My heart is pounding and I know his is, too.
“I want you so much,” he whispers urgently.
My body flashes with white-hot heat from the desire I hear in his voice.
“Brooks,” I whisper back. “I want you, too.”
His mouth is immediately on mine, claiming it in a searing kiss. His full lips are demanding more from me, his tongue urgent. I’m already coiling with want from his kiss. I’m burning up with heat as I frantically kiss him back.
“You taste so good,” Brooks murmurs against my mouth before plunging inside again in another desperate kiss.
Oh, God. I’ve never felt like this, ever.
I tighten my legs around him and a groan escapes his lips, fueling my desire. My hands are all over his face, his neck, his hair, as I need to touch his skin, to feel him any way I can.
“I need to touch you,” I say between hot kisses.
“I want you to,” Brooks pleads. “I need your hands on me. All over me.”
Brooks then begins to walk up the stairs with me wrapped around him. We stop kissing, our breathing ragged, but now we are locked in an intense gaze and I see so many things reflected in his soulful eyes. I see desire. Passion. Need. Caring. Affection.
I love you, I think as I stare into his brown eyes. I love you with all my heart.
Brooks takes me to his bedroom, and as soon as he steps through the doorway, his mouth is on mine in another hot kiss. He lays me back onto the bed, his huge body pinning mine to the mattress in one smooth move.
“You’re so beautiful, Sunshine,” he murmurs, kissing the base of my neck and sending shivers down my spine. His lips explore me slowly now, inching down my neck, to my collarbone. Meanwhile his hand is skimming over my thigh again, his fingertips sliding right at the edge of my denim shorts.
I tremble underneath his body with need. Need for this man that I love.
I reach for the bottom of his T-shirt, and Brooks kneels up, yanking it over his head. He lowers himself back over me, and I run my hands across his golden skin, down his huge shoulders, the sculpted biceps. He’s massive. His muscles are so strong and defined and absolutely gorgeous.
“Undress me,” I whisper in his ear as he’s kissing my neck.
A moan escapes his lips, and I shudder in response.
Brooks slowly lowers his hands to the bottom of my T-shirt. I suck in my breath as I feel his fingertips gently urge my shirt up, stroking my skin as he does and sending shivers down my spine. I then help him lift it off over my head, leaving me in my ivory lace demi bra.
His eyes soften as he gazes at me. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, lowering back down on me, his lips finding mine. “So beautiful,” he repeats, kissing me.
Now his hot skin is pressing against mine, his lips sensually moving from my mouth to my neck, down my collarbone, then down between my breasts.
“Brooks,” I gasp, closing my eyes.
Brooks slides his hand around my back and gently unclasps my bra. He slides his fingertips underneath the lacy straps, pulling it away, and then lowers himself on top of me again, kissing me passionately.
His hands find my breasts, and Brooks groans when he touches them. I instinctively arch my back as he caresses them, and a gasp escapes my lips from the sensation of his hands on me.
I want to give him the same pleasure. I want to touch him, too. I carefully slide my fingertips down his cut abs to his jeans, and Brooks shudders as I dare to go lower, a deep groan coming from his throat that is nothing but pure need for me to touch him.
His hands move to my shorts, skimming my waist, my hips, each touch deliberate. Soft. Incredibly sexy. The way he touches me is unlike anything I’ve ever known. He moves his hands up to the curve in my waist, his fingers stroking me slowly, driving me crazy with desire.
“I want to know every curve of you,” Brooks whispers, lowering his mouth and kissing my bare stomach. “Every inch of you will be loved.”
Then his lips breathe a kiss right at the top of my shorts, and I arch again from his touch.
Brooks lifts his head and moves back up so he’s hovering above me, his gorgeous face inches from mine. I have nothing but love for this man, and I want to show him how I feel. I’m going to love every inch of him, too.
Our lips meet again, and I surrender everything to him in this moment. Tonight will change everything between us.
Not just because it’s the night we first made love, but because it’s the night I fell in love with him.
And with that thought in my heart, I give myself completely to the man I love.
CHAPTER 23
*Mental Note* Today’s plan to improve myself item: Part of improving myself is learning what I truly want in a partner. Someone to make me laugh. Challenge me. Have fun with. Who shares my interests. Inspires me. As part of self-improvement, I need to look for these things with open eyes and not compromise on these qualities.
Result: I’m happy to say I’ve found this and more with Brooks.
***
I wake up feeling sunlight on my face. My eyes slowly open, and I’m snuggled up against Brooks, my head resting on his strong chest. As I wake, I’m
aware that he’s gently running his fingertips over my bare arm, and up to my hair, stroking it in an affectionate way.
I want to wake up every morning like this, I think happily. In the arms of the man I love.
Last night was more than I ever dreamed it could be. It was steamy and passionate, then sweet and romantic. We fit together in every way. And when we made love for that first time, I realized what had been missing before in my life.
With my other boyfriends, it was fun and pleasurable. But now I realize it was sex. Absolutely nothing wrong with that, of course, but it was different than what I shared last night with Brooks.
With Brooks I felt like we truly were one when we made love.
I actually became teary over it, and Brooks asked why. I couldn’t tell him because I loved him. That could really freak a man out—the first time we make love and I’m yelling I love you? But I did tell him a version of the truth—that I’d never felt that close with any man before. To my surprise, he grew teary as well and said it was the same for him, too.
A huge smile spreads over my face as I remember it. I feel as if the ghost of Isla has disappeared. I’m the woman in his life now.
And right now I want to start our day together.
“Good morning,” I murmur, stirring in his arms.
I prop myself up on his chest, facing him.
Brooks’ eyes shine warmly the second I look up at him, and joy fills my heart at the sight of it.
“Good morning, Sunshine,” he murmurs, leaning forward to give me a kiss.
Mmmmm. Yes. This is what I want. To be called Sunshine every morning and kiss the lips of this man when I wake.
“Did you sleep any?” he asks softly, running his hand over my hair.
I arch an eyebrow at him. “Not much, but I’ll take hot, passionate love making over sleep any day. So you’ll have to forgive me if I fall face down in my Sunday lunch later from exhaustion.”
Brooks laughs deeply. “I can’t wait to make you a proper Sunday lunch. I still can’t believe you didn’t eat at a carvery or pub serving Sunday lunch when you went to London.”
“No, I didn’t. That wasn’t on my William and Kate tour,” I tease.
Brooks grins. “You should demand a refund. The Sunday lunch is preferable to a tour of Kensington Palace.”
I sit up and pretend to gasp in horror. “You’re British! How can you say that?”
“I’m half-British, and I prefer lunch to palaces.”
“Oh, this could be a complete deal breaker,” I tease.
Brooks grins wickedly and sits up. “Old paintings, old buildings, blah blah, some gardens. How does that compare to roast beef and Yorkshire pudding?”
I scowl at him. “No meal can put a price on history.”
Brooks quickly leans forward and pins me back to the mattress, grinning at me. “You haven’t had my Sunday lunch.”
“Well, if it’s as good as the full English you served last night, I’m in for an orgasmic lunch,” I tease.
Brooks immediately appears embarrassed. Now I’m laughing.
“You’re so cute when you are teased,” I say, putting my hand up and rubbing the scruff on his sexy face.
“Stop,” Brooks says, laughing.
“You know how to make me,” I say sexily.
“Oh, I do,” Brooks says, leaning down and kissing the side of my neck. I close my eyes and lose myself to his touch.
Complete bliss.
Suddenly a loud crash comes from downstairs, and my eyes flip open, startled.
“What was that?” I gasp, alarmed.
Brooks collapses against me and groans. “Ugh. Angus. He’s pissed off I’m late serving breakfast and flipped a kitchen chair over.”
I can’t help it. A giggle escapes my throat.
“So that’s how you get service around here? I just need to flip chairs?”
Brooks laughs against my neck, and I get butterflies when I feel his breath against my skin.
“I’m sorry, I need to feed him. Mycat Holmes will be up next yowling for his cat food.” He pushes himself up to look at me, and I notice his expression has turned serious. “But I am truly sorry, Payton.”
I see hesitation in his eyes. As if I’ll be annoyed the animals interrupted us and he’s going to take care of them.
I reach for his face with my hands and hold my gaze on him. “Nothing to apologize for. I’d flip chairs too if I were hungry and your lazy ass hadn’t brought me breakfast.”
I see relief sweep over his face, and I pause to give him a sweet kiss before continuing.
“Besides, I’m not going anywhere. And I hear making love burns an incredible amount of calories,” I say. “We’re having two big meals today, so we’ll be in need of a workout tonight, won’t we?”
“Damn straight,” Brooks says.
We both laugh at that.
I take a moment to throw on some clothing, and Brooks does the same. I steal a glimpse of him from behind—the strong back muscles, the tapered waist, and oh-so-tight butt—and can’t help but think I’m the happiest woman in the world that this amazing man is all mine.
We head downstairs and sure enough, Angus has flipped a chair and has shoved his food bowl to the center of the room.
“The service around here is ridiculous, isn’t it, Angus?” I tease.
He grunts as he comes over to me, and I bend down to pet him affectionately.
“Angus, don’t let the beautiful face fool you. She wore me out last night.”
Now I’m the one who is blushing.
“I’ll make you some coffee,” I say as a distraction.
Brooks picks up the food dish and smiles. “Thank you. I’ll pop the roast into the oven first, then I’ll make us some breakfast.”
“Good, I’m starving,” I say truthfully.
So we go about starting our day. Brooks feeds Angus and Mycat Holmes, and brings Sherlock and Dr. Watson downstairs for free time in the kitchen. As Brooks prepares the meat for the oven, I bring him a mug of plain dark roast coffee, just the way he likes it.
And as he takes the mug from me, I see my future with clarity. Bringing him his coffee. Watching our fur babies play in the kitchen. Dividing up tasks to prepare for lunch as a team. Asking Brooks what he needs to make mashed potatoes and if I can do that. Settling down at that cozy table for two next to the window and enjoying a quick breakfast before I go to work on my blog or he heads out the door for the clinic.
It’s so clear and so real. And as I live it right now, a peace comes over me that I’ve never known.
I’m home, I realize, blinking back happy tears.
Home is in this house, with this man, sharing my life with Brooks. He has everything I’ve ever wanted and more.
This, I realize, my throat swelling with emotion, is forever.
And nothing will take that away from me.
CHAPTER 24
Today’s plan to improve myself item (cont.): It is very important to meet the significant people in your boyfriend’s life. And there’s nothing more important to me than making a good impression on Sylvia. I’m dressed appropriately. I won’t make conversation pitfalls. I’ll practice Payton Poise. I’ll be respectful and make good conversation. It will be perfect.
***
I add a bit more butter to the mashed potatoes and smash them again. I slide open the utensil drawer and grab a small spoon. I dip it in the fluffy potatoes and take a bite.
Perfect.
I glance at my phone. It’s nearly noon. Brooks has gone to pick up Sylvia, and I’m responsible for preparing the potatoes and roasting the carrots. Especially the potatoes because I asked if we could have mashed instead of roasted. Because I really do love mashed potatoes and gravy.
I head over to the oven door and take a peek at the carrots. Mmmm. They smell good. Brooks really can cook, I have to say that. He prepared the glaze for them and told me to put them in the oven when I took the roast out.
I close the oven door and catch my
reflection in the glass. I’ve changed into a beautiful summer yellow dress, one that has spaghetti straps and swings right above the knee. I pulled my long locks back into a chignon, with braids coming from the front to the back before I twisted my hair up.
I feel pretty, and I hope Brooks likes it when he sees me.
And, of course, I want to make a good impression on Sylvia.
I turn away from my reflection and absently finger the delicate gold initial necklace I’m wearing. Sylvia matters to Brooks. She’s more than his landlady. Sylvia’s like another grandmother to him. Her approval is important, I know that.
Oh, I really hope she likes me, I think anxiously.
I glance at the pine table, where I’ve added a vase filled with fresh cut lilacs and peonies. I’ve laid out the tableware, folded the napkins. Actually, I was very impressed Brooks had linen napkins until he told me Sylvia bought them for him and said he would need them to entertain ladies someday. Then he smiled and told me he was glad I was the first lady to know he had linen napkins.
I smile. I love that I’m his lady.
I hear two car doors slam, and Angus immediately gets up to greet Brooks. A wave of anxiousness sweeps over me, and I draw a deep breath to calm myself.
The key turns in the lock and I exhale. I can be the perfect hostess for Sylvia, and show that I’m perfect for Brooks in the process.
The door opens, and I hear Brooks’ deep voice.
“Payton, we’re home,” he calls out cheerfully.
I turn the corner and step into the hallway.
There I see Brooks, oh, so sharp in a gray dress shirt and black pants, and Sylvia, who is greeting Angus.
I take her in, and with a smile I realize she’s as eccentric as the floral wallpaper in the kitchen.
I’d say Sylvia has to be in her late seventies. She has platinum-colored hair that is artfully cut into a neat bob. She’s wearing flare jeans and a black and white striped boatneck sweater. Black ballet flats with white polka dots adorn her feet. A red scarf is artfully looped around her neck. Sylvia finished her outfit with multiple strands of big red beads around her neck, and a huge red poppy flower pin is affixed to her hair.
