Page 22 of Bewitched By the Siren (The Bewitching Hour #1)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Hali
Fuck, that was close.
That whole song and dance I gave Brendan about a bully on the beach was a lie, but what was I supposed to do? Tell him I was freaking out because if he dropped me in the water, I’d grow a tail right in front of his eyes? He’d think I’m certifiably insane.
But even knowing the lie was necessary, it sits like a boulder in my gut. Brendan’s reaction, full of empathy and kindness, only made me feel worse. He’s just so damn nice .
I’ve never met anyone like him before. And while I know a big part of his efforts to spend time with me this week is so he can convince me to sign with his agency, I don’t think that’s the sole reason. Not anymore. He actually likes me. And I like him, too.
When we get back to my house, Brendan takes both bikes and leans them against the side of the house in the spot I point out to him. Taking the tarp I’d dropped on the ground earlier, he covers them both to protect them from the elements. Then he heads straight for me and pulls me into a tight hug.
There’s nothing flirtatious or sexual about it. It’s a solid hug, one meant to comfort. To show pure affection.
And damn if that doesn’t turn me on.
Unable to stop myself, I rub my body against Brendan’s, twisting and stretching up on my tiptoes to press a kiss to his neck. His arms tighten around me, and he moans something unintelligible.
Pulling back slightly, I meet his gaze. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Absolutely not,” he says with firm conviction. “Never stop doing that.”
I chuckle and pull out of his arms, earning a disgruntled groan. Taking his hand, I pull him toward his rental.
“Come on. We need to shower off all the sand.”
His eyes widen as his lips curl up, and he allows me to drag him along with a “Yes, ma’am. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
I shriek as he bends over, pushes his shoulder into my stomach, then straightens, ending with me dangling down his back. His steps are quick until he reaches the porch steps, then he steps carefully so as not to bang my gut against his shoulder too much.
Thankfully, fresh water doesn’t initiate the change in me. The salt is necessary. And as we strip out of our clothes while the shower heats up, I’ve never been happier for that fact.
Brendan pecks kisses against my lips as we finish undressing, then pulls me into the shower stall.
He kisses me while his strong fingers massage my scalp under the spray, eliciting a low moan from me at how amazing it all feels.
My palm slick up and down his chest before curling around him to do the same to his back.
His mouth moves to my neck, kissing and sucking and driving me wild while his hands explore my body. Each and every touch is meant to bring pleasure, and my body temperature spikes as undeniable desire unfurls inside me.
I need him. I need him, now.
As if he’s read my mind, Brendan growls and twists the lever to turn off the spray.
Picking me up, he steps out of the shower and carries me to his bed, leaving a trail of water in our wake.
I worry about soaking his mattress through the sheets as he lays me down, but that worry flies right out of my head when we pushes my knees apart and presses his mouth to my center.
“I’ve been dreaming about doing this all day,” he says, the words rumbling from his chest before he pushes his tongue inside me with a relieved groan.
A similar sound vibrates from me, and I couldn’t stop my hips from lifting to drive his tongue deeper if I’d tried. Which I don’t, because damn, it feels so good.
Then a long finger replaces his tongue and his lips find my clit, sucking it gently. Nonsensical words pour from my lips, praising him for bringing me such pleasure, and I feel his responding moan vibrate against me, driving my need even higher.
His fingertip finds that secret spot deep inside me, brushing over it once, twice––then I’m screaming as my release rockets through me, exploding like a dozen firecrackers as my torso rears upward.
I fall back against the mattress, writhing while Brendan licks at my clit, drawing out the aftershocks until I melt into a puddle of goo.
Holy shit . Am I dead?
“I don’t think so,” Brendan says with a chuckle, startling me.
“Oh, God, did I say that out loud?”
“Mm hmm,” he hums, crawling up to stretch over me.
He presses his mouth to my neck, and I immediately tilt my head back to give him better access. Damn, that feels good. Everything he does feels good.
He shifts his weight slightly, and when his erection brushes against my center, a breath hisses through my teeth. Brendan freezes, then lifts his head to meet my eyes.
“Do you want me to stop?”
I shake my head vigorously while humming in the negative before saying, “I want you inside me. Now.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, his voice much deeper and huskier than it was when he said those words earlier.
Reaching toward his nightstand, he yanks open the drawer and digs inside for a moment before pulling out a condom. Ripping it open, he plucks the latex circle out, then shifts to the side to roll it on.
“I love being with you like this,” he whispers as he slides into me. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
“So do you,” I murmur, bucking my hips to drive him deeper.
We move together at a slow, steady pace, neither one of us in any hurry to see this end. A new melody plays in my head, a slow, sensuous beat that pounds in perfect time with the roll of Brendan’s hips.
Our mouths meld, our tongues performing an ancient dance that makes my heart race. Brendan breaks away with a groan, pushing his upper body up on straight arms as he picks up the pace.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he breathes. “So beautiful. So damn sweet.”
With that last word, he dips down to lash his tongue against one of my nipples, making my whole body jerk as electricity shoots straight down to where we’re joined.
“Again,” I gasp, and he complies, this time pulling the pebbled nub between his lips and sucking it, hard.
My muscles tense as pressure builds in my core, and sensing it, Brendan increase his pace, slamming into me again and again until my orgasm explodes inside me. I shout his name with the release, and he moves even faster, chasing his own until he drives into me and freezes with a long, deep grunt.
He collapses atop me, breathing hard as we both float back down to earth. After a moment, he rolls off me to land on his back beside me. We tilt our heads toward each other, and as soon as our gazes meet, we both start to laugh.
“Your bed is soaked,” I say.
“We should probably dry off and change the sheets,” he replies, chuckling.
I nod, then roll off the bed while he copies my movements in the opposite direction.
I start to strip the bed while he ducks into the bathroom to dispose of the condom and grabs some fresh bedding from the linen closet.
Tossing the wet sheets into a pile on the floor, we remake the bed together, then Brendan fetches towels for us to dry off with an extra one for my hair.
Once we’re reasonably dry, we climb back into bed together, naked, and he pulls me against his chest. A week ago, I would’ve felt extremely uncomfortable, cuddling this way. But with Brendan?
With Brendan, it feels natural. Like this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.