His mouth hung open a little as she eased the straps down and removed it so slowly he was almost drooling. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her panties and slid them down.
“Don’t rush me.” She stepped out of them and moved away from him.
“I can’t stand it. Come here you…you…vixen.” Brooke tossed her bra in the air and took off, running through the apartment with Pres in hot pursuit. Buddy awoke and stood up, barking. Brooke took a flying leap for the bed. Pres came sailing after her. He landed half on top of her, causing a big “ooph!” from her.
“Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”
She licked her lips and smiled at him. “Come and get me, handsome.”
Pres dove for her, his mouth working hers, his hands roaming her body. Brooke gripped his back, digging her fingertips into his muscles. She ground her hips against his. “I could just…” he began, after taking a breath. Instead, he lowered his head, kissing her neck, working his way down. When he reached her bosom, he stopped. Closing his hands around her breasts, his fingers pinched her nipples and rolled them. Then, he attacked with his mouth.
“God, Pres. That’s so good. So good.” Her eyes closed as passion grew inside her. She opened her legs, allowing him to settle between them. Cracking an eye open, she watched him forsake her chest and move down to her belly.
“I’m gonna make you scream. Scream for me. Scream my name.”
She shivered at the thought of how he’d do that. The ache to have him inside her grew, twisting her guts, wetting her core. “Pres, I’m ready. Soooo ready.”
“Nope. Not yet.” He slid his hand down her belly and cupped her. He explored her with his fingers, circling her hot flesh. “Oh, yeah. You think you’re ready. But you’re not.”
“Really? You know me better than I do?” she panted.
“Hell, yeah.”
She raised one leg and hooked it around his waist. Pushing up with her hips, she hoped to urge him to take her. She wanted him with every nerve in her body.
He eased a finger in her, then another, and rammed them in all the way. She jumped, gasping. “Like that?”
She nodded.
“Good.” He repeated the action and kept doing it, while he repositioned himself further down on the bed. Pres fastened his hand under her knees and pulled her toward him, raising her legs until her heels were resting on his shoulders. “That’s better.”
He sat and stared at her for a bit. Embarrassment crept up Brooke’s neck. She squirmed.
“I’m gonna look all I want to. It’s gonna be a while before I get to see this beautiful sight again. Don’t rush me.”
“Pres, you’re embarrassing me.”
“Get over it. Men like to look at women, all parts of women. And your parts are amazing.”
She flattened her palms on her cheeks to check for heat. She knew she was blushing, but she couldn’t stop, and he wouldn’t. As she was about to protest a second time, he lowered his head and made contact with his tongue. She gasped then shut her eyes. The intensity of the sensation robbed her of speech. She could barely breathe. Pres held her bottom in his hands and licked her until she couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’m gonna come!”
“Say it.”
“I’m gonna…”
“Say it…”
“Pres!” she screamed, as the volcano inside her erupted, pouring the hot lava of pleasure through her.
He repositioned her and plunged in. “Oh, God,” he muttered, pumping in deep.
Brooke’s hips moved in tandem with his. Tension grew in her as he stepped up his speed. It coiled like a rattler waiting to strike. He kept pumping, faster and harder. “Pres!” she hollered again, as the tension exploded in another orgasm. Her muscles clenched and relief flooded through her. She clutched his back, fastened her lips on his shoulder, and sucked.
Pres moaned as he thrust in and out of her. She pulled his chest to hers, her hard nipples poking his pecs. He groaned loudly. “Brooke,” he said as he found his release. Pres rested his sweaty head on hers. He kissed her nose then her lips. Pushing up on his elbows he allowed his fingers to play with her hair. “That was intense.” His blue eyes looked directly into hers.
“Oh my God. Never before. Nothing like that.”
“Me, too. I love you, kitten. “
“I love you, too.”
He rolled off to the side. Relaxation loosened her control, and tears flowed. She hid her face in the pillow.
Pres stroked her hair. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You’ve never cried after sex before.”
“I’m sad you’re leaving.”
“But I’m coming back. To you.”
“When you see all those sexy women in bikinis, so tan, with big boobs falling in your face…”
He chuckled. “Yours are the only boobs I want falling in my face.”
“You say that now. But when they throw themselves at you…”
He kissed her. “I’m not like that. You’re the one I’ve been looking for. Give me a little credit, will ya? I’m not a man whore.”
“Every man is a man whore, with the right temptation.”
“I won’t be at the beach. I’ll be working my ass off, so I can get the script done and get home to you.”
“Really?”
He crossed his heart. “I swear.”
“I love you,” she sighed.
Buddy barked and jumped up on the bed. He licked Pres’s face then Brooke’s.
“Buddy!” she yelped, wiping her cheek with her hand.
Pres laughed and grabbed his dog. There was a tussle, Pres with the furry creature, he hugged the pug. Buddy panted, smiling and looking from Pres to Brooke and back again.
“He’s so cute,” she said. “And he’s gonna be mine for a couple of months. Maybe he won’t even remember you,” she teased, cocking an eyebrow.
“He’s my buddy. He’ll always remember me.”
“Oh yeah?” She jumped on him, tickling his sides. Pres reacted, wrestling her into submission. Brooke was laughing so hard she could hardly breathe.
He glanced at the clock. “Bedtime.”
“Okay, okay. Come on, Buddy. Playtime is over.” They each washed up then slipped under the sheet. “Hold me, all night. Please?” she whispered.
“You don’t have to ask. I’ll never let you go.” They cuddled up together. Pres folded her into his embrace.
She took a deep breath and let peace flow through her veins. Something about being curled up with him made her feel safe. It didn’t make sense, but she enjoyed it and didn’t try to overthink.
They drifted off to sleep.
The alarm at six o’clock seemed to ring only a few minutes after Brooke had closed her eyes.
Chapter Fourteen
Tears kept coming, long after the taxi whisked Pres away to the airport. Brooke walked down Central Park West to The Huntington, trying to control her emotions with no success. People walking by stared at her. Still, she couldn’t stop. When Rocky opened the door, Brooke ducked her head to avoid his questions and kept going.
Nan was having a cup of coffee in the dining room with Harry when Brooke opened the door. Freddy and Ginger ran to her, barking their greetings. She knelt down and buried her face in their fur.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Nan rose from the table.
“Pres has gone to California,” she sniffled.
“For how long?”
“Two months. Maybe three.”
“You’ve got a lot to keep you busy. Two months’ll fly by. You’ll see.”
“Maybe he’ll be home for Thanksgiving,” Harry said.
“Maybe. I do have a lot to do. This week, we’re adding Sunday night, too.”
“Wow, you’re up to three nights.”
“I upped the ante, for you. Folks are payin’ fifteen. Geez, this would cost a ton more if they went to a restaurant and movie theater,” Harry said.
“I don’t w
ant anyone priced out,” Brooke said.
“No tax. No tip. They can afford it. It’s cheap, even at fifteen.”
Brooke put her dress away then poured herself coffee and joined Nan and Harry in the dining room. “Let me run some of these movies by you guys.” It wasn’t long before she was engrossed in planning for the three nights. She moved a white board into her room and divided it into months then weeks, so she could keep track of what was served and shown when.
Monday night with the Dinner Club was a welcome relief for Brooke. She was dying to get feedback from her friends on Pres and her small, growing business.
“I’ll share my mom’s recipes with you, since you taught me how to make apple pie.”
“How sweet! Maybe you’d come back on the show? The producer loved your segment last time. We could make one of your mom’s recipes there. You’d get some publicity, too.”
“I’d love to. But I’m not a professional or anything.”
“That’s what’s so great, why that segment worked so well before. You made the audience understand that anyone can cook.”
The two women pulled out their calendars. Bess made several tentative dates, contingent upon approval by her hardass producer. The others drank Moscato while they waited for Bess’s special stew to reheat and the garlic bread to brown.
“So, what’s happening with your new guy?” Rory asked, taking a sip of her wine.
“I need help.” Brooke explained her situation.
“Sounds good to me,” Bess said.
“Do you think we can keep it going for two months?”
“I do. Whit and I did.”
“I think so, too. You’re really into this guy, aren’t you?” Rory asked.
“It’s love, right? Not like with Lloyd,” Miranda asked, giving a shiver at the mention of the former boyfriend’s name.
“I thought I was in love with Lloyd, but I wasn’t. Never was. He couldn’t commit. When that client wanted me off the business because she wanted to sleep with him, he folded like a tent. He never stood up for me.”
“You think Pres is different?”
“I do. He’s got…integrity. He’s honest.”
“Then, you’ve hit the jackpot, and there’s no reason to doubt him,” Miranda said.
“A lot can happen in two months.” Brooke chewed a nail.
“He’ll never find another woman like you,” Rory said.
Bess raised her glass. “To Brooke and Pres. May they be together forever.”
They clinked glasses as the timer went off. Miranda set the table, and Bess ladled out the stew. Brooke smiled to herself. I have the best friends in the world.
On her way home, she decided to keep busy planning and cooking to avoid calling Pres five times a day and worrying about their relationship. Taking this time to focus on myself, on something besides him is the right thing.
Tuesday afternoon she got her first call from him.
“Hey, kitten. How are you?”
“I’m good. How’s the script writing going?”
“These guys are tough. But I’m holding my own. Missing you like crazy.”
“I miss you, too. I’m preparing for this weekend. Our first three-day dinner and a movie extravaganza,” she said, chuckling.
“Extravaganza? Awesome! I’m sure it’ll be a success.”
“I’m trying.”
“I’ll probably be working all day, every day. But I can call you either early in the morning or at night.”
“Either works for me. I won’t call you during the day then, right?”
“I’m afraid so. Phone calls piss these guys off.”
“Okay. I’ll wait to hear from you.” Brooke chewed a nail.
“I missed you last night. Sleeping alone isn’t for me.”
“Me, neither. Just glad to know you’re still sleeping alone.”
She heard a sigh on the other end. “I told you—you’re the one. Besides, who could find someone so fast?”
“You could. Take a look in the mirror.”
He laughed. “That’s why I love you, kitten. Relax, we have a ways to go.”
“Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
* * * *
Busy days rolled into weeks. Brooke worked hard to prepare intriguing meals for her weekend dinner-and-a-movie business. She made two appearances on Bess’s television show. She even managed to squeeze in several conferences with Mike Lupin about her lawsuit. She was relieved he had agreed to take the case on a contingent basis, meaning he’d get a percentage of any money she was awarded, but otherwise, there was no fee.
The balance in her savings account began to dwindle. She tried to confine expenses to the small profit she made from the dinners. Four years of earning a good salary had not trained her to stop shopping or budget her money. Fear motivated her to avoid stores, even on sale days—maybe especially on sale days—and only carry a small amount of cash with her. She stowed her credit cards in her bureau, vowing to use them only in an emergency.
Her calendar was full, without walking the dogs. But she had promised to take care of Buddy, and Freddy and Ginger became her responsibility as soon as she had moved in with Nan. Three pugs proved to be a challenge on the leash, as they never wanted to go the same direction at the same time. Brooke took them to the dog run, where they could run free, which seemed the best solution. But she missed walks around the Great Lawn with Pres and the pooches.
Phone calls with Pres were sporadic, as their schedules rarely meshed. The three-hour time difference didn’t help. He’d called her several times at one in the morning Eastern time, and she’d woken him up at five o’clock in the morning his time a few times. Frustration at trying to keep him current on her life overwhelmed her. Some days, she gave up trying to speak with him and simply sent a long text.
Pres was no better. While he tried to clue her in to his hassles with the producers, who were trying to agree on script changes and character arcs, he often had to do so in an email. Brooke made time to read his lengthy diatribes on idiot producers who couldn’t write a coherent sentence, but often she was barely able to stay awake to finish and had to read the rest in the morning.
Brooke was spinning out of control, taking on too much. She was always overtired, short-tempered, and frazzled. She dreaded the conferences with Mike about the dirty deal she had received from her ad agency. The meetings distressed and upset her. Mike tried to prepare her for an appearance in court or even a deposition. He explained all the unpleasant things that the opposing legal team might ask her, which included questions about her relationship with Lloyd and other men.
The threads of her relationship with Pres appeared to be unraveling. As her need for him grew, she became angry at his absence. Loneliness and an overwhelming load of responsibility depressed her. Leading a life that was a constant to-do list, with little or no fun along the way, sapped her energy. She hungered for time alone with Pres, to watch a movie, laugh, make love, and sleep in his embrace.
She most regretted becoming short with her grandmother, always seeming to snap at the older woman unnecessarily.
“Give this up any time you want. Don’t blame me, if you’ve over-booked your life.”
“I can’t give this up. There are forty-five seniors counting on me every week. That’s a lot of pressure.”
“You do it so well, sweetheart,” Nan said, brushing Brooke’s hair back from her face.
“I don’t want to give it up, but I’m being pulled in so many directions. I need Pres here. He’s been gone a month, and it seems like a year.”
Nan touched her shoulder. “I know, sweetheart. He’s a great guy. This is temporary. Once the lawsuit crap is out of the way, you’ll feel better.”
“That’s true. Can you help me pick a movie?”
“Of course. First, a nap. Is that okay?”
“You’ve been tired a lot lately,” Brooke said, her brow knitting. “Are you okay?”
“Too much excitement.”
“I’m not made of steel. I have my limitations.”
While her grandmother slept, Brooke made lists. First, she made one for groceries then one for movies. It was a crisp day in late October. The leaves in the park were just beginning to change. Halloween was only a few days away. Brooke had already thought about a special Halloween menu and a film to match, but nothing too scary. Maybe a Halloween-themed cake?
Thanksgiving’s coming. We could have a holiday dinner and movie for everyone. Maybe even do it twice. She opened the window to let in some fresh, cool air. Buddy napped at her feet. Since Pres was gone, he’d become her special pug, following her everywhere. She had welcomed him into her bed. He slept at the bottom. On cooler nights, he cuddled up next to her, warming her and sharing body heat. Brooke smiled when she reached over, her hand connecting with his fur.
She made a cup of tea and sank into the comfortable cushions of the couch. Thinking back to a couple of months ago, when her life had been so empty, she smiled. Now, it was too full. She had a bunch of new friends, adored some of the seniors, was challenged creatively through her cooking, and had found love. She sighed. Although some days she was too crazed with deadlines to relish her existence, when she slowed down, strength flowed through her.
Although Pres was drifting away, their communications more disconnected than smoldering, she refused to give up. Encouraged by the Dinner Club, Brooke stayed true to Pres, conjuring up memories of their times together walking in the park or making love, when remembering how special he is was all she had. She needed to believe he still loved her and was also overwhelmed by the excitement and frustration of his life. She had a picture of him shirtless on her phone. Every night, she kissed it before going to sleep.
Everything was falling into place, including negotiations on the lawsuit. Then, it happened.
Brooke would never forget the date, October Thirtieth. She was returning from her morning walk with the dogs when she saw Nan slump against the table. She rushed over to her grandmother. “Nan! What is it?”
Nan opened her mouth, but it was a few seconds before anything came out. Brooke propped her up. “Weak. Can’t stand,” Ruth said, leaning heavily on her granddaughter. Brooke pulled a chair over with her foot. She eased Nan into it and whipped out her phone.
Shine Your Love on Me Page 17
