Page 48 of New Hope, Old Grudges

Brody was already halfway up the walk when I slammed the door shut. He looked much better than he should’ve, wearing a black beanie, a bulky jacket with a flannel underneath, faded jeans and boots.

His eyes immediately went to me, my outfit, eating me up, and then his brows knitted together. “You need more clothes on,” he growled. “It’s below freezing.”

My steps faltered at the look of hunger then concern for my well-being.

“I’m not planning on being outside for long.” I snatched his hand, attempting to drag him in the direction of the truck. But he stayed rooted. I wasn’t strong enough to drag two hundred pounds of pure muscle anywhere.

“First things first.” He drew me forward until our bodies were plastered together. His lips crashed down on mine, then he opened his jacket and wrapped it around me as he kissed me. With tongue. On our walkway. In full view of my mother, who was no doubt watching from the window.

Like in the coffee shop, I couldn’t fight the kiss. I melted into it and his warmth.

“First thing you do when you see me is kiss me,” he grumbled against my mouth.

“No, it’s not,” I snapped. “And we’re going to be talking about all this kissing without permission at your place. My mom is watching and getting the wrong idea.” I didn’t move. Only because it was cold and he was warm.

Brody’s eyes flickered in the direction of the house then back to me. “Feels like I had your permission,” he countered, his attention back on me. “And if your mother saw me kissin’ you, she got the right idea.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but it was cold, and my mother would only be a spectator for so long before she inserted herself into the story.

“Truck. Your place. Now. No more talking.”

Brody’s gaze heated, then his hands went downward. To my ass. He squeezed. “Like it when you order me around. Gonna like it better when we’re naked.”

My toes curled in my boots. “We’re not going to be naked.” I rolled my eyes. “We’re merely going to your place to straighten things out.” I stepped out of his embrace, the cold biting me as I did. “Now let’s go. No more kissing. No more talking.”

Brody smirked and stepped back. “Lead the way.”

I scowled at him and stomped to his truck, promising myself my resolve would stay strong.

* * *

We didn’t make it to the bedroom.

Not the first time.

We barely made it through the front door.

We’d been on each other, tearing at each other’s clothes like animals. They were littered behind us, left in our wake, having taken off only what we absolutely needed to in order to get what we needed: Brody’s cock inside me.

My jeans were twisted at my ankles as my palms pressed against his rug, me on my hands and knees, Brody pounding into me from behind. He held a fistful of my hair, yanking me backward with a blissful amount of pain to offset the overwhelming pleasure of him inside of me.

We both climaxed at the same time, him exploding into the condom inside me.

I kind of blacked out after that.

There was peeling off each other’s clothes. Then there was Brody’s frown. “You’ve been away for too long,” he decided. “You aren’t dressed for the weather. You are getting cold.” His fingertip brushed over my stiff nipple.

I shivered delightfully.

“We gotta warm you up,” he playfully snarled, lifting me.

That’s how we had sex in the shower.

I got plenty warm.

Not that I was cold in the first place.

* * *

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