Chapter Ten

Cali

I woke up slowly, my body in its usual position—on my side with my leg cocked up, my arm thrown out, and my head on a pillow.

Except, of course, pillows didn't breathe.

And whatever was below me was definitely moving up and down.

It took less than a second for it all to come rushing back.

The fight, the watch, accusing Brooks with no good reason, hearing about how he was all alone in the world just like I was, feeling like the past several weeks of lack of sleep had suddenly hit me all at once.

I was pretty sure I was out cold within five minutes of resting back on the pillows.

And here we were, some unknown time later—since there were no windows in this room to gauge the passing time by—with me literally sprawled all over Brooks.

It wasn't my fault, damnit.

He was in the spot where my body pillow would normally be in bed.

And I always slept with my leg over it and my head on it.

A poor stand-in for a boyfriend, if you ask me.

Though sleeping on someone else never felt even remotely as right as it felt to be all over Brooks.

A million little fantasies were suddenly coming to life as I smelled him all over me, that spicy, masculine scent that was always all over him.

My head rested right over his steady heartbeat.

His arm draped casually across my lower back.

Actually, no.

It was practically on my ass.

In fact, his fingers pretty much were.

And with how my leg was cocked up over him, my center was just inches away from where his cock was pressing hard against his jeans.

There was nothing in the world I wanted more than to just shift ever so slightly to feel him against me. To free him, yank my panties to the side, and finally feel him fill me like I'd been wanting to forever.

Desire was a thick, warm fog moving through my body, making me feel overheated and fuzzy, clouding my better judgment.

So that before I even knew it, I was doing what my body was aching for.

I slid over him, my knee meeting the mattress on the other side of his body, my skirt hiking up with the movement, leaving nothing but my barely-there panties and his pants between us as my cleft slid across his hardness.

"Cali…"

His voice was a gruff rumbling sound that vibrated through my chest, further thrumming the already heady desire moving through me.

I pressed up enough to look down at him, finding his eyes a little heavy-lidded, but awake, aware.

Maybe I should have moved away, decided that his hard-on had nothing to do with me at all, and was just, you know, nature.

"What?" I whispered back, shifting slightly more, distributing my weight to each leg, the movement making me rock against his cock again.

My chest was rising and falling quickly, my heart a frantic drumbeat in my chest.

Every part of me suddenly felt different.

Hot and overly sensitive.

My breasts felt heavy.

My core was aching.

Below me, the desire wasn't just evident in his cock against me. His heartbeat was thundering, his chest rising and falling more quickly, and his eyelids were heavy with need.

Encouraged by his reaction too, I rocked my hips a bit, making him suck in his breath as a little whimper escaped me.

His eyes blazed at my reaction, and I couldn't seem to stop myself from leaning down, from nuzzling into his neck, and pressing my lips to the skin right below his ear.

His fingers tensed on my ass at the contact, and I couldn't seem to stop myself from continuing a path of kisses down his neck, breathing him in, letting myself get lost in the sensation of him under me, of his hands on me.

"Cali, we can't," he said as my lips started to slide down his sharp jaw, heading toward his lips I'd been dreaming about for so long.

"Yes, we can," I countered, feeling his beard scratching against my mouth.

"Cl—" he started.

"Don't," I objected, tone desperate for him not to finish what he was about to say, to ruin this. When we both clearly wanted it.

Then, to ensure he couldn't press on, my head shifted, and my lips sealed to his.

I swear the contact was an electrical current that shot through both of us, frying our control panels.

Because anything even resembling objection or restraint seemed to escape us at the exact same time.

My hips rocked restlessly against him.

His arms went tightly around me, holding me against him. As if I had any intention of moving away.

His lips that had been pliant under mine at first, took control, pressing harder, deepening the kiss, dragging a throaty little whimper out of me.

My hips rocked again as his tongue slipped inside to toy with mine.

This time, his hands slipped lower, sank into my ass, applied pressure, then dragged me across his cock again.

My lips broke from his as the moan escaped me.

"Brooks," I whimpered, too needy to care how pathetic I sounded. "Please," I begged, rocking harder against him, but not quite getting what I needed.

Brooks's eyes were molten, but the pause after my words had my heart sinking, thinking he was going to do something I wasn't sure I could survive.

Reject me.

After all these years of wanting and not having. Of wondering. Of thinking that, if only things were different, he wouldn't be seeing me as the annoying little sister of his best friend, that he would see me as the woman I was, and want me.

But then, suddenly, he was throwing his weight, rolling me under him, his weight crushing me into the mattress—the most delicious kind of pressure—and his lips were on mine again.

Harder.

Hungrier.

Almost desperate.

My legs slipped around him, heels digging into his lower back, so he was more firmly pressed against me.

His lips slipped down, teasing up my jaw, then down my neck.

A strangled, needy sound escaped me, and I could feel his lips curve into a smile against my skin as he ground his hips down into me, making his cock press me just right, and dragging a ragged moan out of me.

Liking my reaction, he rocked again, making my back arch.

He took the opportunity to move down, his lips slipping between my breasts as his hand moved to slide my straps down, then expose my breasts.

A growl escaped him as he looked down at me, the sound vibrating through my body to land like a physical touch between my thighs.

But then his lips were closing around my nipple, and all there was in the world was the feel of his lips and tongue and teeth working me into a hardened point, then sliding across my chest to continue his mission.

"Brooks," I whimpered, rocking against him, the need so acute that it was becoming painful. "I need you," I added, feeling that rumble move through him again at the sound of my words.

"I know you do, baby," he murmured, making my belly flip-flop at the endearment.

He'd always used cutesy pet names with me.

Honey, sweetie, sweetheart.

Tame stuff that had no double meaning to your best friend's baby sister.

But baby?

Baby was different.

It sounded precious and important.

But he didn't reach down, free himself, and surge inside of me like my body was screaming for.

He moved down me, forcing my hold to release, my legs falling wide to the sides, my hands losing the feel of his back.

I almost wanted to object.

But then he was between my thighs, sliding my panties to the side, and running his tongue up my wet cleft, finding the little bud of my desire, and starting to work it in achingly slow circles.

I'd imagined this countless times. Alone in bed with my hand between my thighs, thinking of him there instead.

None of them, not a single fantasy, could live up to the feel of him right then.

I couldn't have imagined the way he slid his arms under my legs, then gripped my thighs, holding them wide for him. Or the way little rumbling sounds of approval moved through him as he licked and sucked.

My hands skidded down, grabbing his where they were sinking into the flesh of my thighs, holding on as he drove me up.

But slowly.

Almost painfully.

My mewls and whimpers grew to ragged moans as my hips rocked restlessly, as the need for release became a coiled sensation in my core.

Just when I didn't think I could take it anymore, that I was never going to get to that edge, and free fall over it, his hand slipped out from under mine, and two of his fingers were gliding inside of me.

His groan nearly overpowered my moan as my walls tightened around him, begged for more.

His reaction only intensified the feel of him as his fingers didn't start to thrust, but instead turned inside of me, gently stroking over my top wall with that delicious, perfect come hither motion that had me squirming and arching, had almost embarrassing whines escape me as he drove me closer and closer.

My body was taut as a bow as he drove me to that edge, leaving me hanging there, breathless, until his fingers stroked just as his lips sucked hard on my clit.

Then I was flying, falling, crashing, breaking apart, my body shaking as the moans escaped me.

My body tried to move away, overwhelmed with the intensity, but Brooks held me tight, working me through it, then slowly bringing me back down.

His lips were pressing sweet kisses to my inner thigh, his fingers still settled inside of me, when there was a door slamming somewhere outside of the room.

And then someone loudly announced, "I brought donuts!"

Somehow, that was what broke the spell.

I could feel it before I even saw it.

The emotional distance for a heart-aching moment.

Then the physical distance as his fingers left me, as he pulled back from me like I'd burned him.

Not just away from me.

Off of the bed.

Turning his back to me.

Reaching for something on his nightstand.

"You have to get to work," he said.

Then, suddenly, he was gone.

Disappeared out of the hallway.

Leaving me alone to have my biggest fantasy come true slowly turn to something else.

I folded upright, then slid off of the bed, shimmying down my skirt, and yanking my boobs back into the dress.

This wasn't how it was supposed to happen.

A soul-shattering orgasm.

Followed almost immediately by cold dismissal.

My eyes burned, but not nearly as badly as my heart ached, as I slipped into my shoes, then grabbed my bag.

I didn't even pause to go into the bathroom to fix my makeup or run my fingers through my hair.

I just ducked my head, and flew out of the room, out of the clubhouse, each step making the pain intensify as I got into my car, then drove home.

And for the second time in my life, it seemed like my heart was hurting over Brooks.

This time, though, I was a grown-ass woman.

I wasn't going to let it break me.

Luckily for me, I found a great new way to hide from my grief.

"Bitch, I'm gonna see you in less than twenty minutes. What do you want?" Sage answered her phone.

I put her on speaker then set mine on the sink cabinet as I slathered makeup remover across my face.

"Tonight. You free?"

"Maybe. What do you have in mind?"

"Depends on what you are in the mood for. Bar crawl. Music on the beach. Margs and apps. I'm down for anything."

There was no mistaking the desperation in my voice.

"I'll never turn down margs and apps," she said. "You okay, C?"

"No," I admitted, looking up at my face, catching all the desolation there.

"Does this happen to have something to do with a very hot biker guy from your past?"

I sucked in a deep breath, swearing I could still feel his lips, beard, fingers, and mouth on me.

"Yes."

"Do I need to shiv him?"

"You sound entirely too excited about that prospect," I said.

"If he hurt my girl, he deserves it."

Oh, he hurt me alright.

And I had a feeling this was the kind of wound that was only going to fester and get worse with time.