His gaze was bright and endless as he stared up at me. “You want what?”
Air constricted in my throat. “I want to let it all go. I do. And this is still scary as hell for me, but I want to start really living. I want to take risks and I . . . I want you.”
Saying it out loud was like slipping off a too-heavy blanket, one that was rough and itchy. Like opening your eyes and seeing how blue the deepest part of the ocean could be and how bright the sun was when the ground was covered in snow and ice.
Tears blurred my eyes as I whispered the words that made me feel incredibly vulnerable. “I want you, Brock.”
He moved incredibly quickly, snatching the board out of my hand and letting it hit the floor. Grabbing my hands, he hauled me down onto his lap as he sat on the floor. My knees slid on either side of his hips, and when he kissed me, it was like the goodbye kiss from the night before.
Senses spinning all over and mind reeling. I trembled and shook in his arms as he nipped at the corner of my lip and then flicked his tongue over the little bite, soothing it. He coaxed my lips open, keeping the kiss, tasting me—claiming me, but I’d already been claimed by him.
I’d always been his.
The kiss deepened as he drank me in, and there was a brief second where fear sprouted in my stomach. Brock had the power to hurt me again, but the threat was lost in the primitive rumble that rose up from his chest. He broke off the kiss, and my lips felt swollen in the most delicious way.
“I want to know something,” he said, smoothing the hair back from my face. “Something I’ve been wondering about longer than you realize—longer than I should’ve been.”
“What?” I asked, trying to calm my breathing.
Those hands slid down my body, coming to rest on my hips, and when he spoke, his lips moved against mine. “I want to know how you taste.”
Taste?
I knew what he meant by that. Goodness, did I ever. The request sort of shocked me. I mean, we hadn’t even been on a date and we’d just kissed, for the first time, last night. And he wanted to do that already?
And I wanted him to do that. My body really wanted him to do that, like it was one hundred and ten percent on board, but it had been a really, really long time since I’d even been kissed.
Suddenly, I felt incredibly naïve and wholly out of my element. With my hands on his shoulders, I leaned back, putting some space between us. “Brock, I . . .”
“What, babe?” His hand fisted my hair, gathering it against my neck. He kissed the corner of my mouth.
I shuddered as my hands slipped to his chest. “It’s been . . .” Cheeks heating, I tried again. “It’s been a really long time since I’ve done this.”
The hand on my thigh stilled and Brock drew back so he could look me in the eye. “How long?”
“A really, really long time,” I repeated, squirming slightly. “It’s been years since I . . . since I’ve even been kissed, let alone anything more than that.”
Those dark brown eyes nearly turned black.
“I feel like I’m practically a born-again virgin,” I said, forcing out a laugh.
“Fuck,” he growled. “That just makes me want to do it so much more. You have no idea.”
My hands spasmed against his chest, clutching his thermal as my heart worked overtime.
“Let me do this for you.” Brock’s dark eyes glinted with bright desire. “Let me make you come, Jillian. Please, let me help you start really living.”
I lost my breath as I shuddered again. How could I refuse that? For real. I was aching for him in a way I had never felt before. My body wanted him. My heart and soul did. There was no reason to refuse this. Nothing but shadowy doubt and deeply rooted insecurities.
Living is all about taking risks.
Yes. Living was taking risks. Living was putting yourself out there, sometimes jumping without looking, but I had a safety net. Brock would catch me. I didn’t doubt that.
“Okay,” I whispered, feeling like I’d agreed to go skydiving.
He pressed his lips to my forehead. “Thank fucking God.”
I giggled. He was really excited about going down on me. The humor slowly evaporated, because his mouth claimed mine once more, and it was hot and deep. His tongue slipped over mine and flicked the roof of my mouth. He kissed me until my head was spinning and I was melting in his arms. Then he moved, his lips coasting over my chin and over the side of my jaw that had literally been pieced back together. I started to stiffen, but I felt the tip of his tongue trace the line.
My fingers were going to rip right through his shirt as his mouth traveled down the side of my neck, blazing a trail of hot kisses. He nipped and licked as the hand on my thigh moved to my breast. The tips hardened, and I wanted more, wanted to be bare, but then he was moving again.
His hands dropped to my hips and he lifted me up, startling me with his strength. I was no small chick by any means, but he moved me around like I weighed nothing.
My back was on the floor before I knew it, wedged between the bed and surrounded by half built bookcases. He caged me in and I stared up at him with wide eyes, my pulse racing.
“I’ve wanted to do this for . . .” His hands dragged down my stomach, over the thin sweater I wore. He pushed up the material, exposing my lower stomach. “Hell . . .”
Emboldened by his stare, I wet my dry lips and asked, “How long have you wanted this?”
“Long enough that when I woke up last Friday and you were rubbing all over me, I wanted to get my mouth between these legs,” Brock muttered, hooking his fingers under the band of my leggings and tugging them down a few inches. He groaned. “No panties?”