Page 61 of Finding A Way Back Home

Blinking, I scrambled to catch my breath. Scowling up at him, I barked, “I can solve this myself, you know?”

The wry smile that painted his features would’ve had the best woman liquefying at his feet. “Sure. But you won’t.”

“Who’s the tease now?”

“Who broke the rules?” he countered without missing a beat. That cheeky self-satisfied smirk would’ve irritated me if it wasn’t so damn cute. Rules. Hands. Above my head.

“God dammit,” I growled, throwing myself onto the mattress. “Move over. I have a vibrator in my purse.”

His laugh wrapped around my chest, filling my heart with some kind of molten oil. “Oh, but you’d miss out on watching me fuck you until you come so hard you see stars as you soak my cock.”

Dammit. My eyes fell to said cock as one of his broad hands wrapped around his length and gave it one steady tug. Another. Eyes narrowed in accusation on his face, I hurled my hands above my head and relished how hard he seemed to fight his need to smile.

“That’s my girl. I promise to earn your trust, baby. I’ll always take care of you. You’ve just got to let me.” Before I could make sense of up or down, he’d plunged his fingers back inside me, the tender touches from earlier gone, and in their place was a ferocious, expectant thrust, his demanding fingers finding my clit as his mouth descended on a breast. Lavishing it in demanding pulls, Broderick had me whimpering beneath the sensations. He was too good. I needed him everywhere.

“Broderick!” The keening cry sounded far away, my back arching as I flexed and balled my hands to keep them in the sheets above my head. Writhing and bucking beneath the onslaught of pleasure, my throat felt raw, eyes heavy as release barreled forward.

“You come all this way to see me, Pix?”

“Yes,” I panted without hesitating. It was true. As much as I loved my family, this trip had nothing to do with pie day. Eyes closed under the weight of impending detonation, I could hear the joy in his next words.

“God, do you know what you do to me, baby?” His movements got impossibly more intense, sending me soaring toward that beautiful abyss. “You came so far to see me. I think I can give you more than one of these.”

And like he’d flipped a kill switch, Broderick curled those fingers, hitting that perfect spot. I imploded in a release so violent, I did, indeed, see stars.

But it just. Kept. Going.

Even as my legs shook, rolls of pleasure waved through me, and he stayed relentless. My thighs clamped down on his hands as the pleasure overwhelmed me. This time when my hands wrapped around his arms, he didn’t relent, ripping wave after wave of pleasure from me as I came down his hand, soaking his wrist, warmth spilling from my body.

“There’s my girl,” his voice rumbled through me as he dragged the release out in slow steady strokes. My body shuddered as he slowed and stilled.

“H-holy sh-shit,” I stammered, incapable of inhaling as the last shockwaves stuttered through me. The world spun like I had cartoon birds flying around my head. “That’s why people edge.”

“You’re welcome,” he chuckled. When Broderick pressed his fingers against my lips, I opened automatically, his warm chuckle heating my cheeks. “Suck, baby. God, you’re so beautiful. You taste so damn good.” He slipped his fingers into my mouth and my eyes fluttered open as my tart release hit my taste buds, landing on a satisfied smile. “That’s my girl. Told you you’d spill all over our bed.”

Our bed. I hummed at the realization that he made this place mine, too. On one hand, the feminist in me was freaking out because how could he possibly when we just got together? But… the rest of me? Being with him came as naturally as breathing. As though it always had been. And while the sex was new, the man was not—no, this was a long time coming. Perhaps we’d gone our separate ways to become who we needed to be, and now it was just about finding a way back home.

Home to me was Broderick. Even if I couldn’t say that yet.

Needing to tread on safer territory, I breathlessly whispered, “I was promised I’d get to come on your cock.”

“And you will,” he stated simply. In the next breath, he swooped in for a kiss, snaked his hand between us to line himself up, thrust home, and made damn good on his promise.

TWENTY-ONE

BRODERICK

“Sheets are in the closet on the top shelf,” I said when El started poking around in my dresser drawers.

“Ahh, perfect,” she flashed a smile over her bare shoulder, and I debated pinching myself to make sure this wasn’t some elaborate dream. Pix in my shirt was more delicious than she had any right to be. But Pix in nothing but the delicate gold chain around her neck, with a satisfied smile on her face, prancing around my room like her nick-namesake?

There weren’t words. My face ached from smiling as I rounded the corner into the hallway to toss the sheets into the wash. Because I’m a man of my word, and did, in fact, make her come so hard she soaked the bed.

That moment would inevitably play on loop in my mind from now until the end of eternity.

I’d just pumped the detergent and was about to close the washer lid when a thought occurred, and my gut dropped like it did when I was about to be forced on stage as a kid. An unexpected vulnerability washed over me, and I swore under my breath as I rounded the corner.

“El! Baby, I’ll get the sheets down,” I called back to her right as I heard a crash and a ‘whoops’. Clenching my jaw, knowing exactly what the whoops had been, I rounded the corner. Elora—back in my Tom Petty shirt—was kneeling in my closet behind the sheets, which were now halfheartedly tossed onto the end of the bed. One hand pressed to her lips as the other held out a postcard. She flipped it over, her brows pinching as a slight tremor rattled the cardstock.

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