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They finished downstairs. She turned to face him, her features much less tense than they'd been when she'd walked in. "It's a spectacular home, Brody."
"Thanks. Would you like something to drink?"
Tori swallowed. The tour of Brody's house had delayed the talk he insisted on having with her, the one she'd avoided by embarrassing herself and running like hell out of the restaurant.
"Sure. A drink sounds great."
They made their way back into the kitchen, where he opened that incredible refrigerator. She hated to admit to being jealous of his appliances, but she was.
"I have beer...uh, beer, and water. Oh, and soda."
Needing the bolster of courage, she said, "I'll have a beer, thanks."
He popped the tops off the bottles and handed her one. She took a couple long swallows, then followed him into the living room, taking a seat on one of the ultra-comfortable sofas. She liked the big double windows in the living room, could already picture a giant Christmas tree there, covered with lights and ornaments.
"Do you cut a real tree to put in that window?"
He followed her gaze. "Huh?"
"For Christmas. You have such high ceilings, and that window is perfect for your Christmas tree."
"Oh. No, I don't put a tree up."
She frowned. "Why not?"
"Who's going to see it, Tori? It's just me here."
"So?"
"Do you put a tree up in your apartment?"
"Yes. It's only a foot tall since I don't have any room, but of course. It's Christmas. You have to have a tree."
"No, I don't."
"Scrooge."
He laughed.
"Seriously, Brody, you need a tree. This place is begging for a tree. It would look beautiful there."
"And again, no one would see it."
An idea formed in her head. "Your house is so big. We should have the company Christmas party here."
He gave her a blank look, then shook his head. "No."
"Why not? There's plenty of room here. I haven't booked the venue yet. That was on my schedule for next week." She shifted, looking around the room. "The kitchen is enormous, you have that game room off the garage with the pool table and arcade games. People would love it. I've often thought we should make our parties a little less stuffy and a lot more fun."
"Not a good idea. At all. I don't want all those people here."
"Why not?"
"Because..."
She waited for his good reason why not. It didn't come.
"See? It's a great opportunity for you and your brothers to start inviting your clients into your homes. It makes your relationships with them more personal. Wyatt has a perfect home for it, too. There's plenty of room there, too. And with Ethan and Riley building that big new house, he can take a turn, too, though I think you and Wyatt should go first, since they're going to be busy the next couple years with the new baby."
He leaned back on the sofa. "Just planning our lives away, aren't you?"
She lifted her chin. "No. I'm planning the company Christmas party. You and your brothers make the final decision on that. If you absolutely hate the idea, just shoot it down."
"I didn't say I hated the idea. I need to think about it. We'll discuss it at the meeting on Monday. And I don't want to talk about work." He swept his knuckles across her cheek. "I want to talk about that Olympic dash you did out of the restaurant."
She looked down, studying her jeans. She was hoping he wouldn't bring that up, but how could he not? "Yeah. About that. Sorry."
"It's okay. I didn't pick the right place to have that conversation. It was my fault."
She tipped her gaze to his. It was nice of him to take the blame, when she knew it fell squarely on her. "No. It wasn't. You were trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me. It was all me. Trust me, I know this."
He let out a soft laugh. His touch was gentle as he swept a stray hair behind her ear. "Tori, there's nothing wrong with you."
If only he knew. It was best he didn't. She liked things the way they were, but as they sat here, she knew--one way or the other--things were going to change, starting tonight.
But which way? She could either talk to him, tell him everything, or she could choose another way. She could stop fighting what she'd wanted all along.
She shifted, leaned into him and laid her hand on what was a spectacularly solid thigh. His face registered surprise for a fraction of a second, but then he pulled her closer, his hand coming around to cup her neck.
"You sure?"
"Yes. I'm tired of fighting it."
He traced her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, making her shudder, her senses alive with need for him.
"It shouldn't be a fight, Tori."
She took a deep breath. "Just shut up and kiss me."
Fortunately, Brody was a man of action. He kissed her, and everything inside her went instantly hot. And damp. It was just like the Christmas party last year, just like that night in her apartment. Brain cells began to burst, she lost all sense of time and place, and she focused only on the way his lips took command of hers, the way his tongue wound around hers. He wrapped an arm around her and dragged her onto his lap, the feel of all that solid muscle underneath her shocking her.
And when he began to move his hand over her ribcage, her heart stuttered, then raced. He paused, no doubt waiting for her to push him away and make a run for the front door. But she covered his hand with hers and brought it over her breast. He molded his hand there, teased her by brushing his thumb over her, making her nipple harden and tingle, promising what she could have if she surrendered.
She'd surrendered the minute she walked through his front door. She didn't have the energy to fight this anymore. Not when it was what she'd wanted for so many years.
With a low growl, he brought her closer to him, cradling her against his chest as he deepened the kiss. He was everything she wanted, knew she shouldn't have, and tonight, she just didn't care anymore.
And when he made a swift move and slid her underneath him, his big body covering hers, she wrapped her legs around his thighs, aching at the intimate contact. He rocked against her and she wanted to weep. It felt so good, and she needed release desperately. She'd denied herself for so long--stupidly, foolishly holding on to the notion that if she kept herself from having what she wanted, time would stand still and nothing would change.
But the world did change. She'd changed, and tomorrow, so would her life, which she wasn't going to worry about tonight, because the only thing she was going to concentrate on tonight was having Brody.
He lifted, giving her the opportunity to finally be close enough to look her fill of him, to touch him in all the ways she'd denied herself for so long. She laid her hands on his thighs, swept them inward, biting her lip as she zeroed in on one very sizeable erection.
Her gaze swept to his and he cocked one of his famous grins at her, then laid his hands on either side of her head and bent to give her a smoldering kiss that rocketed her senses. He lifted her shirt, his hands big and warm on her belly as he snaked them upward.
"Too many clothes," he said, raising her shirt over her head. For some ridiculous reason, she blushed, likely because she'd allowed very few guys to see the goods. She was damn picky about who she slept with, and of course there was the ridiculous torch she'd carried for Brody all these years.
But him looking at her? Yeah, she'd fantasized about this moment. She had a rockin' body and she knew it. She worked out so she could eat whatever she wanted. She was curvy in all the right places and she loved her curves. Obviously, Brody liked what he saw, because his eyes darkened and he traced a finger around the swell of her breast, dipping his fingertip inside the cup of her bra.
She suddenly found it hard to breathe as his touch sent wild sensation rocketing throughout her nerve endings.
"God, you're beautiful, Tori."
He bent, kissed the swell of her breast, and she was afraid her heart would bu
rst. She breathed heavily and she knew he could hear her but there was honestly nothing she could do to stop the dizzying heights the touch of his lips to her breasts took her to.
He dropped down beside her and she was ever so grateful for this oversized couch, because Brody wasn't a small guy. She heard his boots drop to the floor--he must have toed them off, so she kicked off her shoes, and suddenly their feet were entwined. That made her smile, because there was something both playful and yet so intimate about it.
He didn't seem to be in any hurry to get to the good stuff, another thing that surprised her. He lazily drew circles over the swell of her breasts with his fingertips, while he played with her feet. He still had all his clothes on and she still wore her bra and jeans. Somehow, she had expected this explosion, with clothes flying everywhere, the two of them falling to bed and having a quickie. Yet here they were, lying on his sofa side by side while he mapped her breasts.
Brody constantly surprised her.
"You're quiet," he said.
"I'm...shocked."
He lifted up on his arm. "Yeah? Why?"
"I don't know. I thought this would go...faster."
He laughed. "You have an appointment later that you need to get to, or a curfew?"
