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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.
