Page 17

Chapter 17

Brodie

I f there’s one thing better than my girl in my rugby shirt, it’s my girl in my rugby shirt in my bed, eating my beans on toast after I fucked her six ways from Sunday.

She’s perched cross-legged on the bed, hair wild and sticking up in places, my shirt drowning her. Bare legs peek out from underneath, and her cheeks are all pink. Sex suits her. Being worshipped suits her. The empty plate’s balanced on her knees, and she’s licking tomato sauce off her thumb with a little furrow between her brows.

It’s a masterpiece, that sight. I could stare at her for hours. Would, if she didn’t catch me and shoot me that look that says, ‘ stop being a creepy bastard ’.

I shift on the mattress, half-expecting my back to seize up, but it doesn’t. Feels good, actually. Loose. Like she fucked the tension right out of me. Guess that’s one way to sort out a muscle problem. Flat on my back while she rode me like a cowgirl. Better than physio, honestly.

She looks up, catches me staring again, and raises a brow. ‘You good?’

‘Better than good. You fixed me.’ I stretch my arms, testing the movement. Barely a twinge. ‘Might have to prescribe that treatment more often.’

Her lips twitch, and she scoops up the last bit of beans with her crust. ‘Mm. I’ll bill you for my services later.’

‘I’m already paying you. And I’d say I added a generous tip last night.’

Her throaty chuckle makes me grin wider. ‘Your ego is the size of Scotland, MacRae.’

I lean back, elbows wide, fingers clasped at my neck. ‘Can you blame me? Fixed my back and got the girl. Feeling a bit invincible, to be honest.’

‘Beans on toast,’ she scoffs. ‘I was hoping for your spaghetti and meatballs.’

Charlie’s giving me this look like she’s just dropped the mic. I feel it low in my gut, satisfaction settling there. I almost forgot about that cooking show.

‘What, you think I’d waste gourmet on you when I know you’ll eat me up either way?’ I toss out, a little cocky, and aye, that earns me a squint.

‘Gourmet? You made spaghetti with tinned tomatoes.’

‘Fancy tinned tomatoes,’ I correct. ‘Organic.’

She rolls her eyes and sets the plate on the bedside cabinet. Then she leans back.

‘Maybe I’ll whip up some pasta for you later.’ I inch closer until I’m right up in her space. ‘If you’re good.’

Her mouth forms a teasing slant. ‘I’m always good.’

‘Debatable.’ I steal a slow kiss, tasting ketchup and that faint sweetness that’s Charlie. ‘But you have potential.’

She laughs, and it’s like every knot in my chest unravels.

Christ, I’m done for.

I’d make her spaghetti every day for the rest of my life if it meant hearing that sound on repeat.

She pulls back to look me in the eye, and I see it coming before she even says it. That guarded look. I steel myself, try to hold on to the warmth of her laugh like it’s enough to drown out whatever she’s about to throw at me.

‘Brodie…’ She hesitates, biting her lip. ‘I’m all in with you. I am. But we can’t let this get out. Not yet. I’m not ready for anyone – Callum, my father, the public – to tear this apart.’

It lands like a sucker punch to the solar plexus. My first instinct is to throw it straight back and say, Fuck that, I’d fight anyone for this . But I swallow it down, let it settle under my ribs, where the ache of her words burrows in.

‘Right.’ I try to make it seem easy. ‘Secret. Under the radar. Whatever you need.’

She watches me and searches my face like she’s not sure if I mean it. I reach out, trace my fingers over her jaw, and tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

‘It’s fine, Charlie. We’ll keep it quiet for now.’ I make it sound like it’s okay. I want it to be. ‘One day you’ll be ready. You’re worth waiting for.’

Her shoulders ease a little, and she leans into my touch. But it doesn’t stop that hollow feeling from creeping in. I’m already bracing for the hit when she decides she’s had enough of me.

Me? I’d shout it from the rooftops if I could. But if she needs space, needs time to adjust, I’ll give her that. Even if it feels like ripping my own heart out. Even if it means playing pretend that this is casual when it’s anything but.

Because I’d do anything to keep her.

I push off the bed, fighting the tightness in my chest, and go to mist the plants. Anything to give my hands something to do other than grab her, trying to slip under her skin. Charlie shifts behind me, probably watching my arse, and I can’t help the grin that creeps up on me.

‘What are you, a houseplant whisperer?’

‘Can’t leave them to fend for themselves. These beauties need attention.’

She clicks her tongue. ‘Should I be jealous?’

I turn my head and lift a brow. ‘They don’t give me nearly as much attitude.’

She grins wider. ‘I can’t believe you’ve got an actual rain forest growing in your bedroom. Is this your secret life? Captain of the Rebels by day, Tarzan by night?’

My cheeks heat up. She’s got no idea. But I should tell her. I should trust her.

I mean, it’s no big deal.

It’s just…

Nobody knows.

‘They’re good for stress.’ I try to sound casual. ‘And maybe I, erm…share some of them online.’

She sits up, and curiosity sparkles under her lashes. ‘Wait, what? Like, you post about your plants ?’

I shrug, forcing nonchalance. ‘Aye. On Insta. Only a few pictures. Some leaves. People seem to like it.’

Her jaw drops, and she squints at me. ‘Are you telling me you’re a plant influencer?’

‘It’s not like that.’

She squints her eyes. ‘What’s your handle?’

I pull a face. ‘Naw.’

‘Come on, spill.’ She pokes my arm. ‘You can’t drop a bombshell like that and not give me the goods.’

‘Och, it’s not that interesting,’ I grumble.

Her eyebrows nearly hit her hairline. ‘You’re kidding, right? You just admitted to being a green-thumbed fairy king. I’m invested now.’

I still hesitate, knowing damn well what’s coming. Then I let out a resigned sigh. ‘It’s @PlantDaddy.’

She blanks, as if she’s buffering, and her mouth falls open. ‘No way.’

Before I can stop her, she’s lunging for her phone, typing furiously. It only takes a few seconds before she’s staring at the screen, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

‘Oh my god,’ she breathes. ‘Twenty-one thousand followers? Brodie MacRae. You’re a walking plant kink. A horticultural hazard.’

My ears burn. ‘It’s just green stuff.’

‘No, it’s not just green stuff. It’s your forearms. Your veiny, muscly forearms and huge, capable hands cradling houseplants like you’re some rugged botanical sex god. I’m…I’ve never been so turned on in my life just from looking at plants.’

Her laughter rings through the room, and the part of me that’s always braced goes soft for good. I can’t help it.

Because I’ve never been this turned on in my life just from making someone laugh.

Still feels like I handed her a loaded gun and hoped she wouldn’t pull the trigger. Showing her that part of me – the quiet, careful side – it’s risky. But fuck me if it doesn’t feel good seeing her light up over it.

Charlie’s wiping tears from her eyes. ‘Unbelievable. I’m dating a hot plant influencer.’

‘We’re dating?’ I ask.

‘We aren’t?’

‘Up to you, Charlie.’

I would fucking marry her this afternoon. But I can’t tell her that.

She deflects. ‘Jesus, I’ll have to rein myself in or you’ll end up in GQ posing with nothing but a fig.’

I grunt and cut her a glare. ‘You done?’

She just grins wider. God, I love that smile.

Charlie’s still scrolling through my feed with this glint in her eyes, and I’m half-tempted to snatch the phone away before she gets any more ideas.

Then she suddenly freezes and her eyes widen as if she’s been struck by lightning. ‘Shit. Brodie. I completely forgot to tell you.’

I wipe the mist from my hands. ‘Forgot to tell me what? That you signed me up for a prostate cancer campaign?’

She flaps a hand in my direction and rolls her eyes, but there’s something serious there too. ‘The sponsorship. I landed it. The biggest deal for Elite Edge yet. And it’s all yours, Brodie.’

It takes a moment to sink in. ‘What?’

‘Yeah. You. A two-year contract with MacKenzie Sporting. Low Six-figure sum. I got the call last night right before I showed up and you…distracted me with your entire existence.’

My brain catches up with what she’s saying, and a slow grin spreads across my face. ‘You’re taking the piss.’

She shakes her head. ‘Nope. It’s done. You’ve got it.’

I know how much this means to her. How proud she is. And so am I. She’s not just mine. She’s unstoppable.

‘You’re a miracle worker. Always knew you could do it.’

Her features soften, and it seems as though she’s trying not to show it meant something. But it did. I can tell.

I turn back to the plants, but I sense her sneaking up behind me. She hooks her chin over my shoulder, slides her hands around my waist, and slips her fingers under my shirt, tracing the line where the hair below my navel starts to thicken.

‘Should I call you Plant Daddy from now on?’ She purrs, low and teasing. ‘Do you want to mist me?’

‘Don’t push your luck, Champ.’

She stretches up on her toes and seals her mouth to my neck, grazing her teeth along my skin.

I turn and tilt her chin up, closing my lips over hers, kissing her slowly and deeply. I spent weeks fisting my cock to the thought of her. God knows I’ve earned the right to take my time. Her round arse fills my palm – fucking made for my hands. Soft, warm, so goddamn perfect. I give her a smack and she gasps into me.

I’m done pretending I’m not starving for her every second of the day.

So, I nudge her back, guiding her to the bed.

She sinks onto the edge, staring up at me like she’s daring me to make good on every filthy promise I whispered in her ear last night.

‘ You had beans on toast,’ I murmur, sliding my hands to the backs of her knees and easing her open, ‘but I’ve still got an appetite.’

Her breath hitches. ‘What? Brodie…’

‘Don’t be coy, Champ. You know what’s coming.’

‘Me?’ She grins, wicked.

‘Damn right you are.’

I drop to my knees, palms skating up the backs of her thighs. Her scent hits me – sweet, tangy, fucked-out – and my mouth waters. She’s parted and swollen, lips flushed dark where I took her hard. Like her body hasn’t stopped missing me since I pulled out. Knocks the breath clean out of me.

Time to show that brave little pussy some love.

‘Don’t bother being quiet.’ I glance up, voice gone gravel. ‘Let me hear every fucking sound. The plants don’t mind your screams.’

She smirks down at me. ‘Told you that you’d be thanking me on your knees for saving your career, MacRae.’

I laugh, settle in, and drag my tongue over that spot that makes her buck.

My horny, bossy girl.

She tilts her hips up, chasing the heat of my tongue. I swirl around her needy little bud until she’s panting. That’s everything.

‘You’re not getting up until you’re dripping down my face,’ I murmur, nipping at her skin.

She lets out a wobbly giggle that melts into a moan when I lick into her again. Her taste hits deep in my throat. I earned that, too.

Her phone rings.

She tenses, but I don’t let up. Just grip her thighs tighter, and keep fucking her with my tongue.

‘Shit,’ she breathes, trying to wriggle free, but I don’t let her go anywhere.

Her phone keeps buzzing.

‘Answer it,’ I growl. ‘Wanna hear you try to keep quiet while I eat you alive.’

She glares down at me like I’m out of my mind, but her hips rock forward anyway. I grin and lick up the length of her pussy. She fumbles for her phone, glancing at the screen.

‘I-it’s Theo,’ she whispers.

‘So?’ I mouth against her slick flesh. ‘Pick up.’

She hesitates, and I give her a warning nip. That gets me the sweetest little yelp. Her hand flails for the phone like her brain’s split in two.

Then she takes a deep breath and answers. ‘H-hello, The-Theo.’

She has the cutest clit I’ve ever seen. Just peeking out from under its hood, pink and pulsing like it knows I’m coming for it. And I am. I suck it between my lips. Her mouth drops open in a silent gasp, and fuck, it’s glorious.

‘H-hey,’ she says, trying to sound normal. But it tangles with the moan she tries to smother. She’s all breathless, like she’s run a marathon. Theo’s voice crackles through the speaker, too muffled to make out.

God help me if she ever figures out what I’m doing to her boss while she’s asking about schedules. Right now, I don’t give a damn. All I care about is Charlie’s gorgeous wet pussy in my face.

She reaches down with her free hand, tangles her fingers in my hair and pushes me closer. I get the hint and double down. Her legs clamp around my head, and I hear her stutter, ‘I…erm…sorry, Theo. W-what was that?’

I hum against her, and she shudders. She tries to keep talking, but it’s useless. Her words keep breaking, gasps slipping out when I trace tight laps over that tender peak and work it. I slip two fingers into her. I want to make her take it, make her understand how greedy her pussy is for me, and she tries to smother her wail with her fist. Almost doesn’t work.

She mumbles some excuse to Theo and hangs up, dropping the phone like it’s on fire.

‘God, Oh god,’ she chokes out. ‘Brodie…keep doing that and I’m never letting you leave. Never. You’re… Fuck! Fuck! AH!’

I don’t stop, giving her my mouth where I know it counts and fingering her fast.

My girl likes it rough.

And that’s it. Her body jerks, a gush of slick soaks my face, and she’s screaming my name, thrashing so hard I have to pin her down to keep her in place. She’s gone, lost in it, and the sight of her is enough to make my cock ache like I’m the one getting off.

I fucking did that to her. Made her lose it so completely she’s all over my face. Savage pride claws at my chest, knowing I’m the one who gets to see her come undone like this.

What a privilege.

She’s shaking, gasping out curses, her limbs squeezing me so tight around the ears that I start seeing static. Doesn’t matter. I’d suffocate right here, face buried in her lovely cunt, and die a happy man.

When she sags back, I glance up at her. She’s got that dazed, blissed-out look, hair sticking to her forehead, chest heaving.

I wipe my beard with the back of my hand. She’s all over that now. ‘Told you I had an appetite.’

She groans, hiding her face in her hands, but she’s laughing, panting and trembling and so damn beautiful it hurts.

Yeah. I’ll thank that woman on my knees all damn day.

I kiss my way up her body, over every inch of skin I can reach. When I finally get to her mouth, she pulls me down, kissing me hard and hungry, tasting herself on my tongue. I don’t think I’ve ever been this fucking happy.