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“That’s it, Pop. Fuck me.” He grabs my hands from his shoulders, pulling them behind my back, encircling my wrists as he continues to nip and suck at my nipples. I can feel myself tighten around him. “Oh, shit, that’s it.” Restraining my wrists with one hand, he moves the other in front of me, his thumb thrumming against my sex, and I know my orgasm is happening with or without his say so. “Come all over my cock, baby.”
I let out a scream as my orgasm tears through me.
Broadie lets go of my arms and lifts me up from him far enough he can buck his hips wildly into me. “Fuck. Oh, fuck, Pop.” I can feel him shudder inside me as he pulls me back down on top of him. The combination of his heavy breathing and the sexy swearing he’s chanting beneath me could practically get me going all over again. But I’m not sure my legs could go another round.
Or my ass.
I lie still for a moment, expecting his sweet words of praise. Yet instead, he lifts me off of him and walks away without looking back.What the heck?
After a few moments, I gather my clothes and dress. I’m not sure what the protocol is for this kind of thing. I wanted him to take what he needed, but I’d hoped when his release came, he’d be back to the kind, affectionate man I remembered. Is this behavior part of the rough sex? Being dismissed?
’Cause I’m not a fan.
About twenty minutes later, I’ve had enough and decide to go in search of him. As I reach his doorway, I find him sitting on the edge of his bed, freshly showered. He’s leaning forward, elbows on his knees, with his face buried in his hands.
“Broadie?” I ask cautiously.
He peers up at me, stunned. “You stayed?”
“I didn’t realize I’d been dismissed.” My tone is curt. “Do you want me to go?”
“No!” He gives me an apologetic look, those whiskey eyes holding more emotion than I can decipher. “I’m sorry, Poppy. I’m…”
“What?”
He drops his head, unable to make eye contact with me. “I’m so ashamed. The way I’ve treated you. You deserve so much more. What’s wrong with me? I’m crazy about you, but I keep giving you one reason after another to walk away.” My heart aches watching him. He looks anguished.
Coming closer, I take a seat before reaching over to stroke his stubbled jaw.
"You deserve someone who’ll cherish you. Protect you. Not pounce on you like an animal.”
Pushing my thumb into the space where I know that dimple should be, I whisper, “But that’s the part I liked.”
His head snaps up, his eyes full of hope.
“You weren’t that rough. Were you holding back because it was me?”
“No. You were perfect.” He drops down to the floor, burying his forehead into my lap. “You’re everything I want. You said to take what I needed. But this isn’t who I want to be with you. This controlling asshole who takes and takes. I’m generally a happy, well-adjusted man. My life may not be well balanced, but I’m usually even-tempered.” He pauses for a moment, rocking his head in my lap from side to side. “But sometimes, all of the stress and lack of control catch up to me. It’s how I’ve learned to cope. But I don’t want to detach anymore. I want to handle the pressure before it impacts you.”
Running my fingers through his damp hair, I pray we’ve reached a turning point somehow. “I’m here when you’re stressed. Bring your tension to me. I know you’d never hurt me. We all handle things in our own way. I’d much rather know we’re there for one another than worry you need to detach from your troubles with something or someone else. Don’t run away and drown your worries in a bottle of scotch or a meaningless one night stand. Share it with me.”
Broadie looks up, an odd mix of relief and optimism swimming in his eyes. “Please don’t ever leave me.”
I feel a warmth bloom in my chest. Feeling embolden I say, “I think we should be done with giving each other space. We’re good together. Can I see more of you?”
“Yes. I want that too, Pop. No more promises. I’m making changes. You and my girls are my priority.”
“I’d love to meet them one day.”
His smile could light the whole house. “They were the ones who encouraged me to ask you out.”
“What? How’d they know anything about me?”
You were at Luigi’s a few months ago with some guy. They saw that I couldn’t stop staring at you.” He chuckles. “They swore you weren’t into him. My oldest, Lauren, thinks she’s a professional matchmaker.”
I shuffle through my memories, trying to recall the night in question. “Oh, that was my brother.” I laugh.
Broadie buries his face back into my lap. “No other woman could bring me to my knees, Poppy. I’ll do anything to make this work.”
