Twenty-three

TWENTY-THREE

Mia

I got it.

I fully understood the look Brock had sent my way last night when he stood in the doorway to my bedroom before heading down to lock up the house and get the ice cream for us.

When I opened my eyes only a few minutes ago, I had wanted to stay precisely where I was. Because I was on my side in my bed, and Brock was spooning me. Having felt so alone for so long, it was unbelievably comforting to have Brock here with me, especially since we'd both shared our feelings for one another.

But being so far along in my pregnancy—I was thirty-two weeks along now—ignoring the pressure in my bladder was no longer an option. So, I had to slip out of Brock's protective hold in order to get up and relieve myself.

I crossed the room, stood at the entrance to the bathroom, and looked back at the man in my bed.

That's when it hit me.

That's when I grasped the meaning behind the look Brock had given me last night before he went downstairs.

Or, at least, I thought I did. I couldn't be sure if Brock felt the same as I did, but when I saw him there in my bed, a wave of gratitude, love, and contentment moved through me.

What made it even better was that Brock's eyes were open, focused on me, and there was a hint of a smile playing at his lips. The urge I'd had to use the bathroom had dissipated a touch as I wanted those few extra seconds to soak up all that this moment was making me feel. Because even now, Brock was communicating so much to me without saying a single word. He was looking at me like he believed I was something precious, something to be treasured.

"Everything okay?" Brock asked, his voice hoarse from sleep.

I dipped my chin slightly. "The baby is resting right on my bladder."

Brock chuckled. "Okay. Are you coming back?"

Grinning, I promised, "Absolutely."

Not wanting to delay myself the opportunity to get back into bed with him any longer, I stepped fully into the bathroom and closed the door behind me. After relieving myself and washing my hands, I opened the door and took two steps toward the bed, where Brock was waiting, before I stopped myself.

I turned around and moved back into the bathroom. I intended to kiss Brock this morning, and if I was going to do that, brushing my teeth was a must.

As soon as the brush was in my mouth, I glanced down at the sink and noticed the spare toothbrush sitting there. Last night, after ice cream and before we went to bed, I'd given Brock a toothbrush to use. Seeing it now, I felt a bit of a thrill move through me. I didn't think I'd ever see the day that I'd give Brock a toothbrush to use at my place, so he could spend the night with me.

I was in the middle of getting my teeth brushed when I felt a presence beside me. I looked up from the counter and saw Brock had entered the room. He looked positively delicious, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, and a wave of appreciation washed over me.

Brock didn't say a single word before he stepped close, drove his fingers into my hair, and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "Good morning."

Wow.

Wow, I loved the sound of his deep, gravelly voice this early in the morning.

If I hadn't already been planning to kiss him, that would have certainly convinced me I needed to reconsider.

"Morning," I mumbled around my toothbrush.

Brock massaged the back of my head with the pads of his fingers and laughed before releasing me and picking up his own toothbrush.

For the next few moments, the two of us stood there, brushing our teeth, and exchanged knowing looks with one another. It was crazy to me how something so ordinary as this could build so much tension between us. My knees were weak just thinking about kissing him again.

When we finished, Brock didn't hesitate to lean his hips against the counter and wrap his arms around my body. "Am I to assume you get up and brush your teeth like this every morning?"

My lips twitched. "Of course, I brush my teeth every morning."

Amused, his eyes dancing, Brock returned, "I wasn't suggesting you don't. But you seemed to have finished in the bathroom, stepped out into the bedroom, and quickly turned back to come brush your teeth. Were you so distracted by something that you forgot you do that every morning immediately upon waking, or was there another reason you came back in here?"

I couldn't miss the hopeful tone in Brock's voice. It was obvious what he wanted my answer to be. In either scenario, no matter which way I responded, he would be the reason I reacted the way I had this morning.

Lifting my arms, I draped them over his shoulders and leaned my weight into him. I might have been mostly all belly with this pregnancy, but it was my belly that prevented me from being able to feel all the solid parts of his body pressed close to mine. Even still, nothing was going to prevent me from acting on how I felt.

Smiling, loving the way he was looking at me, I said, "I might have had other motives."

Both of Brock's hands drifted down my sides until they reached my hips and slid around to my ass. Brock squeezed me there. "Mmm. Like what?"

"Seems like you already know the answer to that question," I teased, tilting my chin up and brushing my lips against his. "No matter which way I answer, you become the reason I did what I did this morning."

He pressed a soft kiss to my lips. "Maybe. But I didn't want to be presumptuous. I've never been here first thing in the morning."

I hummed, still smiling, and felt the anticipation building. "So far, I like having you here in the morning."

"So far?" he questioned me, his tone light and playful. "Should I be worried that I might do something to make that change?"

"I don't think so. Not if you keep doing everything you've been doing."

"Well, is there anything I can do to ensure your opinion doesn't change?" he questioned me.

I brushed my lips back and forth against his, feeling a shiver run down my spine. "You could let me have some fun with you. I mean, it's the day after the holiday, and neither one of us needs to leave to go to work. It might be nice to play for a bit this morning."

I fully expected Brock to come back with some witty or mischievous verbal response.

He didn't.

But what he gave me was arguably better. He just didn't use his words to make it happen.

A growl crawled up his throat and escaped about half of a second before he captured my mouth with his and kissed me properly. It wasn't just a soft, sweet kiss. It was a kiss that was possessive and claiming, a kiss that made me feel like Brock cared about nothing beyond communicating precisely how much he adored me.

So, I did my best to give the same right back to him, to make sure he knew how deep my feelings ran for him.

As we kissed, our hands roamed. Our legs carried us out of the bathroom, neither one of us willing to break the connection between our mouths to make sure we didn't stumble on our way back to the bed.

Fortunately, I had more than enough faith in Brock to guide us there safely, and if we happened to lose our footing, I didn't doubt he'd make sure I wasn't hurt.

I was far more content to get lost in him and relish having him here with me. I only knew we'd made it to the bed when I felt it hit the backs of my legs. I stopped there, refusing to tear my mouth from his.

We stayed like that for a bit, and no matter how long we kissed, I couldn't get enough of him.

Brock was the first to break our connection. He tore his mouth from mine, but he didn't move away. If anything, he became more ravenous. His hands, which had been roaming over my body, came to the hem of my nightie and lifted it over my head.

"God, you're beautiful," he said, his voice a deep rumble that sent a flood of desire right between my legs.

Brock was only wearing a pair of boxer briefs, so there wasn't much for me to strip him out of. And even if I had wanted to do that, I wouldn't have had the opportunity.

Because Brock might have stopped kissing my mouth, but he hadn't stopped kissing me completely. He was simply doing it in other places, and he was making it clear where he intended to wind up.

This man had proven just how talented he was with his mouth, so it was safe to say I believed I was in for a real treat. And even though I wouldn't have dreamed it was possible he'd ever want to do what he was obviously getting ready to do, I felt no nerves about it. Brock had made that possible with the things he said and the way he looked at me.

As his mouth moved along my jaw, down the front of my throat, and toward my breasts, my fingers threaded through his hair. When he sucked one of my nipples into his mouth, I let out a moan of pleasure.

"What are you going to do to me?" I asked, the hope in my voice undeniable.

Brock shifted his mouth to the opposite breast and sucked it in deep before he bit down gently on my nipple. Once he released it, he stood up straight, looked down at me with a glint in his eye and half of his mouth quirking. "I think you already know, Mia. Why don't you lay back on the bed, so I can eat your pussy?"

I don't know why, but I hadn't anticipated Brock being so forward about it. And since it was unexpected, I could only assume that was the reason I didn't hesitate to lower myself down on the bed, so he could follow through on what he intended to do.

Brock didn't wait.

He didn't delay.

He didn't even try to tease me along the way.

He went right for it, and it paid off in a big way. I was writhing against him, clawing at the sheets beneath my body.

With each flick of his tongue over my clit, I squirmed even more. And I indulged myself in what he was giving me.

I loved it.

"Brock," I panted when he'd worked me up to the point of no return. "I'm going to come."

I thought he was going to stop, to pull back and make me beg, but it seemed he was all about delivering the pleasure.

So, I gave in and accepted it. And before I knew it, Brock had wave after wave of pleasure moving through me with my orgasm.

I'd barely come down from the high, hadn't even caught my breath, when I felt a surge of determination move through me. Brock deserved everything he'd just given me and more.

As quickly as I could, I sat up in the bed, my legs hanging over the side of it. Brock was standing in front of me, and I placed my hands on his hips. "Your mouth is unbelievable."

He laughed, bent forward, and kissed me, allowing me to taste myself on his tongue. Then, his voice still a deep growl, he said, "You taste incredible."

"Let me taste you," I begged him.

He groaned, righted himself in front of me, and allowed me to push his boxer briefs down his legs. The moment I curled my fingers around his cock and stroked, he groaned again.

I smiled inwardly, feeling extraordinarily powerful that a man as strong and handsome and wonderful as Brock was this turned on by me. Loving the way that felt, I didn't hesitate.

I remained seated on the edge of the bed as Brock continued to stand beside it in front of me. And the next thing I knew, I found myself getting worked up all over again as I took him in my mouth.

Because Brock wasn't shy about sharing how much he enjoyed what I was doing. "Fuck, Mia. Do you know how long I've fantasized about you doing this?"

There was something I loved about knowing he had been thinking about having me like this for so long. I couldn't get over the level of self-control he'd shown for months while he made me believe he was simply just being a good guy to a woman who was going through it.

Brock often stated that I deserved better than I'd gotten, and perhaps he wasn't wrong. But I'd have been lying if I said he didn't deserve even more.

Feeling gratitude and love and immense appreciation that this man had come into my life, I wanted to go above and beyond for him with this, as he had done for me in every other aspect of my life.

So, I didn't slack.

I didn't hesitate.

I didn't allow the fact that I felt fully sated after what he'd just done deter me from accomplishing what I set out to do.

I took him in as deep as I could. I sucked long and hard. I used my tongue, my lips. I offered tons of suction. And I glanced up at him regularly as I alternated my pace.

Brock was clearly enjoying himself. Between the way his grip in my hair tightened and the sounds that came out of him, I had no doubt I was succeeding in giving him all that he deserved.

Eventually, he pulled his hips back, and I lost purchase on him. He held his hand out to me and said, "I love your mouth, Mia. But I want to feel your pussy wrapped around me when I come."

He gave a gentle tug, helping me off the bed, then kissed me before he spun me around. Brock's hands came to my ass and squeezed, eventually moving around to my hips, up my sides, and to my breasts. As he palmed and cupped my breasts in his hands, his fingers playing with my nipples, my head dropped back on his shoulder. I angled my neck up toward his jaw, and Brock's eyes connected with mine. He held my stare for a few beats until one of his hands dropped between my legs.

As Brock worked his hand there and at my chest, his mouth descended on mine. He kissed like he was hungry, greedy for me, and I happily gave him what he wanted. Of course, considering I had both his hands and his mouth on me, there wasn't likely much I wouldn't have done for him.

Brock worked his magic on me, and unsurprisingly, it wasn't long before I was panting and close to the edge.

That's when I lost his hand and got his mouth at my ear. "I want you to come with me inside you."

"Please, Brock. Please," I begged.

I leaned forward, my palms landing on the bed. Brock positioned himself and drove in from behind, forcing me to cry out. Holding my hips in his hands, Brock drove in with measured, purposeful thrusts.

Once he had me like that and had worked himself into a rhythm, Brock brought a hand back to my breast and the other to my clit.

That was all it took for me.

Feeling him drive inside as he toyed with me and teased me, I was right back on that edge. "Oh, God," I whimpered. "Brock."

"Are you going to come with me, Mia?"

I couldn't get the word out to answer him, but I had a feeling Brock didn't need it. He knew. He had to know what he'd done to me. I didn't stand a chance at not being right there precisely when he asked that question.

My orgasm tore through me, sparks of pleasure having formed in my lower abdomen and shooting out to the very tips of my toes and fingers. It was glorious, spell-bounding. I was completely, totally lost to the experience Brock was giving me. My body had never felt better.

And what I loved most of all was that somewhere in the midst of it all for me, Brock found his own release and rewarded me with the deepest growls of pleasure I'd ever heard in my life.

How did I do that to him?

Brock remained inside, his hands having moved to my hips while the both of us fought to regain control of our breathing. I hadn't quite gotten there when he said, "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

I should have been the one saying that to him. "I feel exactly the same about you."

"I'll be fantasizing about your mouth wrapped around my cock for days," he whispered.

"You're so talented in so many ways. I should have known you'd be good at all of this, too. My only wish is that we hadn't waited so long to get ourselves here."

"At least we made it here, right?"

He had a point. "Yeah, I guess so."

"How about we get cleaned up and go get some breakfast?" he suggested.

I smiled. "It's like you read my mind."

Brock laughed, gave me a squeeze, and pulled out. I wanted to cry at the loss of him, but when he took me by the hand and led me into the bathroom where he looked after me, I couldn't remain upset.

Minutes later, we'd made our way down into the kitchen.

"No eggs, right?"

I tipped my head to the side, my eyes roaming over his handsome face, and shook my head. "No. I'm surprised you remembered that."

"Mia, I think I remember every detail of every encounter we've ever had with one another. How could I forget?"

If I didn't know better, I might have thought Brock was doing his best to impress me. But after months and months of being around him, I couldn't stand here and question his intentions. This was precisely who Brock was; it was one of the reasons I'd fallen in love with him.

He cared.

He listened.

And he wasn't selfish.

"It thrills me that you remember my aversion to eggs right now, but I guess what I really want to know is why you're asking me about what I'm willing to eat as though you intend to be the one to cook."

Brock stood a little taller and declared, "Because I do intend to cook. You are going to grab a seat and talk to me while I do it."

I shook my head slowly, the corners of my mouth tipping up.

"Why are you shaking your head?"

"You're going to get yourself into trouble by spoiling me like this," I warned him.

He laughed. "I'm okay with that. Now, if I use eggs and make some French toast for you, do you think you could stomach that?"

"Oh, I'd love nothing more than to smell some French toast cooking in here right now."

"That's a start. What about eating it, though?" he pressed. "I don't want this to be a lemon cookie situation. I want you to be able to eat with me."

The way Brock cared and would switch things up just to accommodate me warmed my heart. I wasn't sure I'd ever get used to the way he made me feel.

"I'll eat it, too," I promised.

"Are you sure?"

Nodding, I confirmed, "Yes."

"Good. Grab a seat and let me take care of the rest," he ordered.

I didn't hesitate.

Brock seemed intent on doing this for me, and I was in a place where I was willing to accept any opportunity I could get to rest and have someone cook for me.

But no sooner had I sat down when my phone buzzed on the counter. Brock moved around the kitchen, grabbing everything he needed to make breakfast as I picked the phone up and looked at the display.

My body froze as soon as I saw the name, and my breath got stuck in my lungs as soon as I read the message.

Brock must have noticed, because he stopped moving and asked, "Is everything okay?"

I lifted my gaze from the phone and said, "Susie texted me."

"Susie? That's?—"

"Todd's sister," I confirmed. "She said that Todd told her what happened last night."

"And?"

"And she's curious if I'm doing okay."

Brock held my stare for a few beats before he reasoned, "Well, I think that's a good thing, isn't it?"

"Yeah. She's a good woman, and I know she's going to be very involved in the baby's life," I explained.

"Why do you seem so concerned right now?"

I shrugged. I didn't know why I was having the reaction that I was. I liked Susie. I always had. And she'd never given me any reason to believe that she wanted anything less than the best for me.

"I don't know. I guess I don't want her to be disappointed, because she's always been kind to me," I said. "I mean, she's not saying anything bad or jumping to some conclusion, but I wonder what the story was that she was given."

Without thinking twice about it, Brock suggested, "So, why don't you tell her you'd like to get together to talk to her? She is going to be your baby's aunt, and if you want to preserve that relationship, I think it's a good idea to clear the air, so you don't have to wonder."

The level of maturity Brock demonstrated was unparalleled. He didn't even flinch at the thought of me continuing to have a relationship with the family of my baby's father. "Do you know how amazing I think you are?"

A proud smile washed over him. "It's simple, Mia. Don't get yourself worked up over something that's not necessary."

As Brock got back to working on breakfast, I tapped out a response to Susie, letting her know that I was okay and that I'd be happy to get together with her one day over the following week.

By the time I worked out the details with her, Brock had breakfast ready. It smelled utterly divine and looked even better.

"I'm starved," I said, immediately lifting my fork and knife in my hands. "Thank you for cooking."

Brock leaned toward me, kissed me, and said, "You're welcome."

We ate in comfortable silence for a few beats. After all that we'd done this morning and the later hour, I was ravenous. But following a few minutes and several bites of the delicious toast, I said, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"I'm still trying to come to terms with the fact that we're here now, and this one question keeps popping up."

"What is it?"

I popped another bite of toast into my mouth and chewed as I considered how to phrase my question. Once I swallowed, I said. "I feel incredibly happy right now. I'm so glad we shared our feelings for one another with each other last night, but I guess I'm sitting here wondering how we did it. How did we get this far, knowing how we've been feeling for so long, without saying something to each other sooner?"

Brock took a minute to consider his answer to my question, which I appreciated. I liked knowing that he wasn't going to just rush to respond and wanted to give me a meaningful response.

I waited patiently, and eventually, he shared, "Obviously, I can't say what it is that had you not revealing your feelings, but I doubt they are the same as mine. As I said to you several times now, I was attracted to you from the start. But once I knew you were no longer with your ex, I had to take a bigger step back and look at everything from your perspective. It would have been easy to pursue you, to try to have this sooner. But I couldn't risk it. You were dealing with a lot of change in a short time with the move, the pregnancy, and the break-up. As much as I wanted you, I didn't want to be the rebound guy. I wanted to be someone who had the potential to go the distance with you, and I didn't think that would be possible if I pushed and rushed you into something before you were ready for it."

He paused, but I could tell he wasn't finished. So, I continued to eat and replay in my mind what he'd already said.

Finally, he continued, "I don't know if I should share this, but I might as well. Not long after you moved in, right before Christmas, my brother had stopped over to drop off Izzy, so he could do some Christmas shopping for her. You had been outside decorating for Christmas, and my brother made mention of you. I reacted in a way that told him all he needed to know. Ultimately, I admitted I was attracted to you, and when he encouraged me to go after you, I had to tell him about Todd. Of course, I shared how I thought your ex was a jerk to you, and Chris told me that I should prove to you that I'm the better man, that I was the man you deserved to have. So, that's what I tried to do. Ever since, I've been trying to show you what kind of man I am. I fought against the feelings I had for you and just tried to be someone you could trust and depend on."

All this time.

Months.

Brock had been putting in the effort with me for months with no guarantee that he'd ever get what he hoped to get out of it. He hadn't been wrong about what he was trying to do, though.

"You succeeded," I said softly. "You proved to me that you were the better man."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

Brock's hand was on my thigh, giving me a gentle squeeze, before he said, "I know you didn't come to the realization that you were in love until last night, but you knew you were feeling something for me over these last couple of months. Why didn't you say anything?"

Unlike him, I didn't need to take any time to consider my answer to that question. I'd pondered the what ifs for so long. I knew exactly why I hadn't dared to say a word. "You deserved better," I blurted.

Confusion washed over him, his brows pulling together. "Pardon?"

Was there an edge of anger in his tone? Surely, I had to have been imagining that.

My eyes roamed over his face. Following a beat of hesitation, I explained, "I've never met anyone else like you, Brock. There are so many things about you that are admirable, that anyone would easily find themselves falling for. I wanted to tell you; I struggled with trying not to read too much into things you said or did. Because I thought you could have anyone you wanted, so why would you ever want a woman who's pregnant with another man's child?"

For a long time, Brock didn't respond. He didn't even move. He simply sat there with a look of disbelief on his face. The moment was tense, and I had a feeling he wasn't going to hold back when he finally said whatever was going through his mind.

"Do you think that you winding up pregnant and being left by your ex makes you unlovable? Are you suddenly not the woman you were before?" he questioned me.

My breathing grew shallow, and I offered a slight shake of my head in response. "No," I rasped. "It's just that I don't think anyone signs up for something like this. It's not your burden to bear."

"And that's where you're wrong, Mia. You aren't a burden. Your baby isn't going to be a burden. I liked you for you. I love you for who you are inside. Everything else, quite frankly, is a bonus."

My lips parted in shock. Suddenly, I was the one feeling nothing but disbelief.

Brock wasn't finished. "My brother is a single dad. Izzy doesn't have her mom. If what you're saying is the way you truly believe it's supposed to be, that I'm not supposed to love you because you're having a baby, then what you're telling me is that not only should my brother never be able to find love again, but also that Izzy doesn't deserve to have a mother figure in her life. Chris will be alone forever, and Izzy will never know what it's like to have a mom. I can't imagine that's how you think it should be."

As soon as he put that out there, I realized how badly I'd been mistaken. I'd gotten it all wrong. Because I didn't think Chris should spend the rest of his life alone. And Izzy was the best little girl I knew. She absolutely deserved to have a mother.

"You're right," I rasped.

"Of course, I'm right. But I'm not mad at you," he assured me. "We both clearly made some mistakes when it came to getting ourselves to this place. We're here now, though, and honestly, that's all I care about. I just want to make you happy."

Brock wanted to make me happy.

I wanted him to be able to do that.

"Only if you'll let me try to do the same for you in return," I said.

He smiled, the tension dissipated, and he gave me a kiss. "That's a deal."

With that, we finished up our breakfast. Then we spent the rest of our day off together, doing our best to make up for the time we'd lost.