Page 19

Chapter 18

Lia

I’m waiting for flames to dance on the top of my skin, even though I’m surrounded by water. Every look Brooks shoots my way is like there’s nothing else in the world. Just him and I.

I’m not one to be vocal—or maybe no man has ever given me the space to do so. But I do know that if my orgasm comes from my own touching, that will be disappointing. I need Brooks. Want him. Even if it scares the hell out of me.

Even if I’m not sure I deserve it.

“You asking for me,” he murmurs, closing the distance between us, “is music to my ears.” He kisses me quick and hard, dragging his lips down the column of my neck.

“I do want you but—” Alarm bells ring out in my brain. They’re telling me to be cautious, urging me to soak in the moments instead of speed through them.

He slowly pulls away so he can see me, his eyes roaming over my face.

“I’m not trying to sound annoying but I kind of want to take this slow.” I hate how my voice loses steam as the sentence drags on.

“Whatever you want, Lia. I mean that.”

“I’ve done the casual hookup thing, and I don’t want to do that with you. I think you could be more.” I put my mouth on his, mostly to cover the embarrassment of my vulnerability showing as a quick blush of my cheeks.

I can’t believe I just said that. What is wrong with me ?

“I could be more?” he asks in between kisses. I can feel his lips smiling into mine, his cheeks bunched, which immediately lessens the anxiety of what I’ve asked for—what I’ve shared. I kiss into him, letting his tongue sweep mine, wanting him to take more of me.

Brooks sits next to me then reaches over, grabbing my hips and picking me up. His hands digging into my skin has me holding my breath. He gets me where he wants me, which is between his legs with my back to his chest. I can feel his muscles tense and his erection hitting above my ass.

Pulling my back flush with his chest, he places both hands on my chest, his fingers feeling the lace before grabbing and ripping the bra down the middle.

I gasp before I mutter, “This is my favorite set. Was . I guess.”

“I’ll get you a new set. This same one. New ones. Whatever you want.” He kisses the side of my neck and then my shoulder.

His fingers roll a nipple in each hand and I grip his legs, trying to get any leverage. His legs flex when my hands dig in and I draw a moan from him. My body sings as I push harder into him, my shoulder blades pressing to his chest and pushing back. The steam rolls off the pool as air rustles the trees, a quick reminder that it’s late October. Goosebumps break out over my skin right as the heel of Brooks’ hand pushes down my body, hitting my clit.

Brooks presses his mouth to the curve of my neck. “Is this okay?”

“If you stop, it won’t be,” I answer, needier than I’d like.

His fingers brush the spot where fabric and skin meet, right below my navel. Before it comes to me begging, he slips his hand in, and his skin on mine has me lifting my hips. The water helps me push myself closer to his fingers, aching for him to never quit touching me.

His other hand reaches across my body, his forearm flexed against my pebbled chest. The steam crawls up, meeting the skin outside of the water, and I let my head fall back into Brooks’ shoulder. His fingers dance along the edge of the lace of my panties, teasing me along the side of my thighs.

I take an arm and hook it behind his neck to lift myself a little, aching for the pressure I need. When the lace of my panties rubs against my center, I shiver against his broad chest.

“Fuck. You like this… it’s so hot,” he groans into the soft spot between my neck and ear.

His words surround me. They almost wrap me in a bubble that’s about to pop. He’s barely touched me, but I’m already so close. It’s the pressure on my shoulders from his strong front, the way he keeps rolling a nipple with his free hand, the way his lips keep dusting my skin.

It’s like Brooks knows he’s pushing the limit because his hand finds my center and he draws circles lightly, changing the pressure. My abs let out a tiny shiver when he gets it just right and he definitely picks up on it. Each time he makes me buck, I swear I can feel that devilish smirk on me.

Then it feels like the pressure from the water is too much—overwhelming in the best way—my orgasm running up the hill instead of aching away in my low belly. I can almost reach for it. Put my hands around it and squeeze.

Brooks nips my shoulder and picks up the pace, circling, and my hips move perfectly to roll me down the hill. My climax hits me hard. My muscles tense and release, shaking on Brooks’ still-moving hands. He licks along my neck and a whimper falls from my mouth before I can’t help but let out a scream.

He doesn’t stop. His fingers, his mouth—they stick with me the entire time. The orgasm stretches and when I think it’s going to slow, it doesn’t. Squeezing my eyes shut, I suck in a breath, and when I open my eyes I’m seeing stars. It’s like the world is happening around me in slow motion, and all I can feel is Brooks all around me.

My nerves are deliciously raw, and my bones almost feel heavy. Leaning farther into Brooks, I can’t help but accept the smile plastered on my lips.

This. What? How? My brain tries to process of the impromptu evening and it makes no sense. How do I feel this good? How has the happiness sort of settled into me?

Brooks breaks the spell with a kiss to my neck. Proving, again, this actually happened.

“I fear I’ve not been putting this pool to good use… until tonight.” He hugs me to him and all I can think is: how is this man real?

My phone buzzes as I swing open the door to my apartment. The clock tells me it’s after two in the morning but my heart races with energy.

Brooks

let me know when you’re home

Seeing his name has my stomach flipping like Simone Biles.

Me

home. About to crash

me too. thanks for coming over

thanks for dinner and the swim

feel free to bring a suit to leave here next time

or not

When he sends a few devil emojis, I shake my head, my hands covering my eyes. Did tonight really happen? Did Brooks cook for me? Did I swim in his pool in only my bra and panties? Did he actually rip my bra down the middle? Did I let him deliver one of the most earth-shattering orgasms of my life and with only his hands?

Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes, and yes.

I could’ve stayed the night but that felt too fast. I didn’t want to ruin anything, kind of like when you first flip open the page of a new notebook and the pages are crisp and flat. Also, I didn’t want to push my luck. Or karma. Or whatever the hell is working in the background to bring Brooks Pittman to me.

I feel the warmth rush over my cheeks—the only confirmation I need.

Falling into bed, I pull the duvet to my chin and try to remember the last time I had a secret this good.