Page 86 of Fire in You

My brain checked out as my body took over. I was rocking against his finger and mouth, and when he slipped in another finger, filling me even more, I started panting and making these sounds, these tiny moans I’d never, ever made in my entire life—sounds I would’ve normally been embarrassed over but not now. There was no room for embarrassment or thoughts or our past.

There was nothing but what he was doing in me, stirring and building inside me. There was just his mouth and his fingers, and the way my body rocked and moved. Passion burned through me, igniting a spark that quickly grew into a flame as he went deeper and faster.

I burned—burned for him in a way I never had when I was younger. Oh no, what I was feeling now was beyond anything I’d ever imagined.

“Brock,” I breathed.

God, he was unbelievably good at this.

My body was coiling tight and my eyes flew open. My other hand flung out blindly, smacking into the side of the small bed. Brock made that sound again, that deep growl, and it threw me right over the edge. Crying out as every muscle in my body tensed and then released. Brutal pleasure poured through me, liquefying bone and tissue. I was lost to the storm of pulsing and throbbing.

Unable to move much and beyond sated, my arms flopped to my sides as I watched Brock lift his head from between my thighs. A fully male, smug smile graced that beautiful, talented mouth of his.

I gasped as he slowly withdrew his fingers from me and brought one to his mouth. He licked his finger.

Oh my good God.

Breathing pitched, my eyes widened. He was . . . there were no words. None.

Brock rose, prowling up the length of my body and planting one hand beside my head. His lips glistened. “So I’m driving us home for Thanksgiving, right?”

I couldn’t help it. A grin tugged at my lips and I laughed softly. How could I say no after that? “Yeah, you’re driving us home.”

Chapter 24

There was a small part of me—okay, that wasn’t true. There was a rather large part of me that wondered how things would be at work. Would Brock act like nothing had changed between us, or would he have no problem with public displays of all kinds of things? I had no idea if he wanted our relationship known to our coworkers.

Then again, I had no idea if we were in a relationship. Just because he went down on me, giving me the most amazing orgasm I’d ever experienced in my entire life, and told me he wanted me didn’t necessarily mean we were officially doing the boyfriend/girlfriend thing.

I was thinking I should probably clarify that.

Brock stopped in my office Monday morning, one hand holding his phone to his ear and the other holding a latte for me. He winked and then walked back out. Of course, my face started flaming the moment I saw him.

He’d put the other bookcase together and then spent the rest of the day watching a mini-marathon of Will Ferrell movies with me. We hadn’t talk about that night or what happened to me anymore. We’d ordered a pizza and then he’d left around eight. His goodbye kiss made me wish it were a hello kiss.

After he blew my mind yesterday afternoon, he hadn’t let me return the favor. He’d rolled off me, found my pants, grinned like a cat in a shop full of canaries while he helped me pull them back on, and then got back to work on the bookcase. I wanted to return the favor, but because I was an idiot, I hadn’t been able to work up the nerve.

With Ben, I hadn’t been the one to initiate any action between us, and since he had been my only relationship, that meant I’d never actively seduced anyone.

I couldn’t even picture myself doing it.

But I wanted to.

Around ten that morning, I gathered up a stack of reports and headed for the conference room for our Monday meeting. Cradling the papers to my chest, I stepped out of my office just as Brock came out of his. I waited, feeling as nervous as I would have all those years ago.

His lips curled into a smile as he approached me. “Love the skirt,” he said in a low voice as he leaned in, speaking into my left ear. “Shows off your amazing ass.”

My eyes widened as I glanced around. The cubicle walls were too high to see over, but I didn’t think anyone overheard him. I still tripped over my own feet, though.

Brock chuckled as he folded his hand around my forearm, steadying me. Shaking my head, I started to tell him to stop looking at my ass while I committed this gray skirt to memory so I could wear it again or find more like it, but just then Paul stepped out from behind one of the cubicles.

His light blue eyes flickered from Brock to the hand curled around my arm. Something tightened in his expression, but it smoothed over so quickly that I wasn’t even sure I noticed it.

Paul nodded in my direction before turning his attention to Brock. “I got a rundown from the trainers in Philly on the guys we sent up there.”

Letting go of my arm, Brock took the paper from him. “Thanks, man.” He fell in step beside me as we continued to the office. “We’re going to check in on them when we’re there this week.”

“Sounds good.” I glanced over at Paul, who was walking a few steps behind me, to my right. “What’s the game plan with them?”

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