Authors: Rose Wulf
Finally unable to
stand it any longer, Brooke kicked at the covers until only their respective
layers of denim were between them. She adjusted her legs, straddling one of
his, and bucked her hips enough to graze his covered erection.
That was enough to
get Blake’s attention. He lifted his head from her chest, hand pausing, and
looked up at her.
“Please,” she
urged, her voice breathless.
Blake’s blue eyes
darkened with need. He pushed himself up, hands landing on his belt. As much as
Brooke hoped to help him out of those crisp blue jeans, it wasn’t happening
this time. This time, she was in too much of a rush to get her own off. She
didn’t even wait to let him remove her panties.
“God,” Blake
groaned when his eyes landed on her again. She was fully undressed and laid out
for him, waiting and enjoying her own view as he climbed back over her. He was
hard and ready, and if she had thought she could hold out long enough, Brooke
was sure she’d have loved to taste him.
But that was just
going to have to wait. She needed to feel him first.
Blake’s lips
crashed back over hers at about the time she’d managed to glimpse a slim
package in his nearest hand. A condom. Thank goodness one of them had a
semi-functioning brain.
Hands wandered
feverishly. Groping, stroking,
teasing
. Then Blake
inserted a finger between her legs, and Brooke gasped against his lips. She
must have wanted him more desperately than she’d realized if just the first
touch felt so blissfully good. And he wasn’t done. He swept that finger in and
out, adding a second at the same time as his thumb found her nub, and she
gasped again, louder this time.
Blake’s lips locked
over her nape, sucking hard as he flicked the nub again, and this time she
cried out. Her hips bucked, pleading for that final release, but he refused
her. His hand withdrew entirely as he released her neck, and he readjusted
above her.
Brooke reached up
and caught his jaw when he tossed the packaging aside. “Kiss me,” she
whispered, letting her thumbnail scratch just a little below his lip.
He trapped her
wrist in his hand, placed a kiss on her palm, and bent forward, pinning her arm
over her head. “Whatever you say.” Blake obeyed her request and claimed her
lips in a deep kiss.
Their tongues
rolled together as his hips surged forward. It took conscious effort for Brooke
to keep her lips sealed to his to contain her outcry of pleasure as he filled
her. He felt
so
good.
With a groan, Blake
broke the kiss. He trailed his tongue up to her ear as his hips began moving
gently. He nipped at her earlobe as he sank back into her center. Brooke
wrapped her arms around him, her hips lifting to greet his, searching for any
way to take him deeper.
“Don’t hold back,”
she whispered against his ear.
Blake only rumbled
an acknowledgment of her words before catching her lips in another hot,
demanding kiss. But he kicked up the pace, rolling his hips against hers after
filling her. In and out. Their bodies danced, grinding together and coming
entirely off the bed as Blake’s kisses found their way down her throat once
again. He trailed them over her pulse point, past her collar, until he’d
managed to recapture one breast between his lips.
Brooke held him
tight, one hand buried in hair, the other curled over his spine as she
approached that blessed precipice. Blake’s tongue played with her nipple, and
his hips ground into hers, rubbing with just the right pressure. Her vision
went white, and it was all she could do keep from shouting as ecstasy erupted
like a volcano inside her.
Chapter Eleven
“I know I can’t
really keep this from coming down on you,” Blake whispered, running his fingers
through her hair. “But promise me you won’t do anything too reckless if you
happen to hear something at work.”
Brooke’s fingers
stilled over his chest. “What makes you think I’ll hear something at work?”
“I don’t know,” he
offered honestly. “I just figure with your job you probably overhear a lot.”
The slender leg
wrapped around his tensed, and Brooke lifted herself to look into his eyes. She
was still entirely nude—as was he—and the simple beauty of the sight took his
breath away.
“You actually do
have a point,” she admitted, “but don’t worry. Double-O-Seven I am not.”
He grinned and
kissed her gently. “Good, that’ll help me sleep better.”
She smiled and resettled
herself on his shoulder for all of five seconds before drawing in a sharp
breath. “My apartment! What happened to my apartment?”
“Logan’s taking
care of it,” Blake assured her. He wasn’t surprised when she sat up anyway,
concern marring the light in her eyes.
“How is he doing
that, exactly? And what time is it?” The last was clearly an afterthought as
she broke from his gaze to look toward the covered window. Light was
seeping
in now, so it was clearly daytime.
“Time for
breakfast, I’d say,” Blake replied as he sat up. When she returned her
attention to him, he added, “Also, Logan works construction. Fixing up housing
stuff is literally his business, so he’s got it all covered.”
“Huh,” Brooke
mumbled, her gaze slipping from his to wander down his chest for a moment. “I
never knew.”
“Brooke,” Blake
interrupted, not feeling particularly like discussing his brother in the
moment. “I only had the one condom on me.”
Her cheeks flushed,
and she swatted at him. “Get dressed, then, and take me to breakfast. I’m
hungry.”
Blake couldn’t help
but laugh as he rolled to his feet. “Yes, ma’am.”
****
Hands on her hips,
Brooke stood in the front yard and frowned at her living-room window. Or, more
accurately, at the board covering the hole in her wall where the window was
supposed to be.
The branch that had crashed into her apartment the night
before was gone, and on the outside, the only evidence of the previous night’s
storm was her window-wall and the now-lopsided tree.
“I hate this,” Brooke declared after a long moment as she
finally let her half-curled fists drop to her sides. She turned to face Blake,
who was standing beside her. “But I can’t decide what I hate more. The damage,
last night’s chaos, or the fact that I apparently could have died and none of
my neighbors would have noticed.”
Blake sighed, switching his frown back to her boarded-up
window. “That’s understandable.”
“What I don’t get is a large branch
crashed through my window
.” Gesturing one arm wide, toward the
nearest other apartment, she said, “How did Mr. Pendleton not hear that?!”
Blue eyes flicking in the direction of the indicated
apartment, Blake paused a moment before the briefest of grins curved his lips.
“Because he’s half-deaf.”
Brooke cocked an eyebrow at him. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” Blake replied easily, lifting his own hands until
he had hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “He’s a teacher at the high school. I
had him twice. And according to Angie, his hearing’s only gotten worse.”
“So, what, is he too stubborn to do anything about it?” Brooke
asked incredulously.
Blake shrugged. “Probably. Or maybe he figures he’s too
close to retirement for it to make a difference.”
Brooke sighed and shook her head. “That figures. I mean,
I’ve seen him around a little, I knew he was getting up there in age, but it
never occurred to me that he never said ‘hello’ because he never heard
me
say ‘hello’.”
“Are we talking about Pendleton?” Logan asked as he walked
up to them.
Both Blake and Brooke turned to face him, and Blake’s grin
broadened slightly. “Yeah.”
Brooke’s looked past Logan, to the business truck that had
settled in behind Logan’s own. She recognized the name of the local glass
company on the side of the electric-blue truck, and her gaze returned to
Blake’s brother. “Is he here for my window?”
Logan nodded. “Yeah.”
“Don’t get me wrong, but isn’t that a little fast? I mean,
doesn’t it take longer than that to replace a window?” she asked.
Logan grinned slightly and shook his head. “Not when the
owner owes you about a dozen favors. Anyway, don’t worry about it. Your new
window should be in place in no time.”
Brooke smiled. “That reminds me. Thanks so much for helping
with all this.”
Logan shook his head again before his gaze flicked briefly
to his brother. “Don’t mention it.” Then he moved until he was standing beside
Blake, turning to watch the workers at the truck silently.
After a long moment, Brooke suddenly said, “I suppose I
should be glad it happened this week, instead of next week.”
Logan asked, “I thought next week was the one you had off?”
“Next week might be Spring Break,” Brooke acknowledged,
holding one hand up, finger pointing toward the sky as she talked. “But that
does not mean ‘no homework’, and it
does
mean ‘more work-work’.”
“That’s true,” Blake agreed, realizing her point. “Hell, I’m
scheduled for lifeguard duty for most of the week.”
Logan sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets as he
said, “I almost forgot. Damn drunk college students.”
Blake smirked. “Like you never got drunk when you were in
college.”
“Yeah, but I never annoyed myself.”
Before the conversation could continue, one of the workers
from the truck stepped up to them, introduced himself, and began explaining to
Brooke exactly what they were going to do. Blake stayed quiet as Brooke talked
to him and watched as Logan occasionally joined the conversation whenever he
found it necessary. Finally, the worker turned back toward his truck, and
Brooke moved toward her door. She would need to leave it open, after all, if
they were going to be installing a window.
****
“I want to tell Eric,” Angela declared as she joined her
parents and Blake in the living room after school that afternoon.
Blake, who had come over for further discussion of the
situation, leaned back against the couch and raised an eyebrow at his sister’s
entrance. But he said nothing, because she wasn’t really talking to him.
Lillian released a quiet breath and gestured to the mostly
vacant couch. “Why don’t you sit, sweetheart.”
Angela dropped her backpack beside the couch and claimed
her favorite spot against the arm. “I’m serious,” she said, obviously unwilling
to drop the issue. “I want to tell Eric.”
Changing his mind about his silence, Blake kept his voice
curious as he asked, “Weren’t you just telling me that you wanted to wait a
while longer? So why the change of heart?”
Looking over at her brother, Angela replied, “You of all
people shouldn’t have to ask me that. You’re
barely
even dating Brooke, and look what happened to her.” She
switched her attention to her parents again, completely oblivious to the surprise
on her brother’s face. “Eric and I have been together for over a year now. If
you didn’t trust him, you’d never let me bring him to family dinners, right?
And yeah, I had been thinking about waiting. But now I think keeping him in the
dark just puts him in more danger. He
needs
to know!”
“If that’s how you feel,” Lillian began carefully, pursing
her lips for a moment before she added, “then of course you can tell him. I
would have felt the same way if I were you.”
“Before you talk to him,” Christopher interjected, “keep in
mind that you’d be giving him a lot of information very quickly. Take it from
me, hearing all of this for the first time is somewhat overwhelming. But you’d
be telling him more than your mother ever had to tell me. It could be a lot for
him to take in.”
Angela frowned in frustration, though her tone was far from
accusatory when she asked, “So you’re saying I shouldn’t tell him? Or do you
think I should tell him in pieces?”
“I just think you should be careful about how, and when,
you tell him,” Christopher said. “If he seems frustrated, or short-tempered,
maybe that isn’t the best time. This isn’t just you telling him about your
family. You have to tell him that, by being close to you, he might be in
life-threatening jeopardy.”
Slumping back against the couch, Angela crossed her arms
and released a heavy sigh. “I understand what you’re saying,” she assured them.
“But I don’t know what to do. Every minute I put it off could be one minute too
many!”
For a long minute, her family said nothing. Lillian and
Christopher exchanged knowing looks. Blake glanced at his parents before
returning his focus to his sister. It was easy for him to put himself in her
place.
As Angela’s head rolled back so that she could stare
blankly up at the ceiling, Blake bit the proverbial bullet and forced out the
words that left an odd, unpleasant taste in his mouth. “The way I see it…” He
kept his eyes on Angela though he sensed his parents shifting their own gazes
to him. “The only person who needs to be sure that this is the right decision
is you.”
Angela’s eyes widened, and she turned to look at him,
startled by his words.
He continued before either party could pull together a
response. “Eric may not be my favorite person, but I’m your brother—I’m not
supposed
to like your boyfriend. And
more importantly, I trust you.” He paused to let his words sink in. “Besides, I
didn’t consult anyone before I told Brooke about us, and we weren’t even
dating. It hadn’t even occurred to me that they might go after her, and as a result
she got hurt. I have to live with that.” It was odd to talk so openly about his
relationship with Brooke, even if the mention had been miniscule. And
technically, he and Brooke hadn’t had that conversation yet. They’d had too
many other things on their minds at breakfast.
Slowly, Angela pushed out a breath and offered her brother
an honest smile. She got up, crossed to the other side of the large couch, and
then leaned forward to wrap her arms around his shoulders. Holding him close
for a long moment, Angela whispered, “Thanks, Blake.”
Blake returned the hug easily. “Anytime, little sister.”
Angela pulled back and paused to glance at her parents.
“I’ll be in my room.” She turned and scooped up her backpack as she ran toward
the stairs.
When Angela was out of sight—and earshot—Lillian and
Christopher turned their attention to Blake, who was suddenly feeling awkward.
He hadn’t meant to overstep, but it suddenly felt like that was exactly what
he’d done. “Uh, I’m sorry,” he began. “I suppose I shouldn’t have said it quite
like that.”
“No,” Lillian said, shaking her head lightly, a small smile
curving her lips. “You said the right thing. And I think, since she knows that
none of you really like him, it meant more to hear you say that than it would
have had we said it.”
Blake sighed, his eyes shifting toward the stairs
thoughtfully. “Yeah … and it’s not like I said anything I didn’t mean.”
Christopher shifted in his chair, lacing his fingers
loosely across his lap and grinning faintly as he said, “So, Blake, talk to us
about Brooke.”
Blake’s head whipped around until he was once again facing
his parents. “What do you mean?”
“She seems like a nice young woman,” Lillian declared
calmly, a strange smile lighting up her eyes. “She’s perfectly sweet.”
“I’m … glad you like her,” Blake said slowly, knowing his
parents were going somewhere else with this. He knew his family well enough to
know there was something odd in the expressions on their faces. And he didn’t
think he was going to like it.
“The question is,” Christopher continued casually, “just
how much do
you
like her?”
There it is,
Blake thought even as his stomach contorted strangely and his throat swelled.
His parents had never gone out of their way to grill him about a girl before.
Or at least never both at once
. Clearing
his throat self-consciously, Blake replied, “We haven’t really had the
relationship conversation yet…”
Christopher lifted one eyebrow disbelievingly. “Yet you
never told any of your other girlfriends, if memory serves.”
They were right, of course.
He knew that his impulsive need to tell Brooke, with so
little consideration and even less hesitation, meant something. And he was even
beginning to suspect what that something might be, but he was in no way ready
to tell his parents that. First he had to admit it to himself.
“Blake,” Lillian called, pulling him from his thoughts and
dragging his attention to her. Her blue eyes were gentle and
understanding—encouraging, even. “Do you love her?”
The question hung in the air as Blake contemplated his
answer. The mere fact that he didn’t immediately say ‘no’ had him hesitating.
He swallowed heavily as he realized that the truth was, at this precise moment,
he didn’t have an answer to that question. So he settled for the best answer he
could provide. Gaze dropping to the coffee table, he said quietly, “Not yet.”
****
Brooke stepped into the dining area in time to see her new
favorite person, accompanied by his three brothers, enter the diner. She was
en
route to deliver drinks to another table, so she was
forced to be satisfied with a smile and a nod when their eyes met. As soon as
he returned the gesture, Brooke altered course slightly and shifted her focus
back to what she’d been doing.