Page 70 of Inked Obsession

“I understand. Well, I understand some of it. I don’t understand how everyone else could act as they were, but I can’t change any of that. I can tell you that we’ll be here. I promise.”

She looked at me then, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied my face. “I believe you. I just…things are so weird. I don’t even know how you and I got here. One minute, I was doing my best not to think about you in a certain way because you were my best friend’s brother. And then, suddenly, I was here, and you were in my house. One of my best friends is next door and could come over at any minute, but I don’t care. All I want to do is be with you, but it feels like things are going so fast I can barely keep up.”

“We’ve both had traumas, so I guess we know that we need to take life by the reins and maybe move a little faster than we would’ve thought.”

She blinked up at me. Even I was surprised by that. “That was very insightful.”

“I have no idea where it came from,” I said with a laugh and then leaned down and kissed her. “We’ll figure this out.”

“Maybe. Or perhaps we’ll just flounder our way through it and somehow find the answers in the end.”

I snorted and shook my head. “Well, maybe that is something we could do. I’m here if you need me. Always.”

She rose on her tiptoes and kissed me. I moaned; I couldn’t stop myself.

I felt her smile against my lips and leaned back. “Sorry. Couldn’t help it.”

“No, that’s something we’re good at. Make love to me?” she whispered. “I just want to feel you. For the night. Is that okay? We can make scrambled eggs and toast later. That can be our date. I just want to stay in. I want to feel you. I feel likemewhen I’m with you. It doesn’t make any sense, but here we are.”

I smiled softly at her, and I kissed her again before reaching down and picking her up. She moaned, wrapping her legs around my waist. “I love that we’ve already done this tonight.”

“Just kiss me.” Her voice was low, seductive, so I pressed my lips to hers. “Just let me be,” she whispered and kissed me again.

I carried her to her bedroom and laid her on the bed. I slowly stripped her out of her dress, her shoes. Her gaze went dark as I worked on my shirt’s buttons and then tugged it off my shoulders. “You’re so beautiful,” I said to her while looking down at her in her lacy underwear.

“You’re the one stripping in front of me. I think we both know who the beautiful one is here.”

I shook my head, leaned over her, and kissed her again.

I tore off my shoes, undid my pants, and then I was over her, wearing only my boxer briefs. She wore only her bra and panties, and I was kissing her.

I couldn’t fix everything. I couldn’t change our paths or do anything but wonder where we could go in the future. I didn’t know if this would work out or if we’d both end up broken in the end, but I could be here. I could make her forget. I could let her be. And that would have to be enough.

I kept kissing her then, trailing my lips down her neck, her chest. I tugged her bra away from her nipples and bent to lap at each one, nibbling, kissing, taking my sweet time. This was for us, to remember that there was something more than where we came from—and even who we would be once we walked away.

She had been in such pain, had been through so much, and I couldn’t change any of that. I couldn’t make it go away. I could show her that there was something more. Maybe that’s what I needed, as well. To know that there could be something more for both of us. Because Brian was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. Marshall was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. They weren’t here in bed with us now. It was only the two of us.

And even if with every kiss came another complication, another twist in our connections and who we were as a group, it didn’t matter. I wanted her. Eliza pulled at my boxer briefs, and I grinned before rolling to my side and pulling them off all the way. She gripped my base, then wiggled down. My eyes widened. “Well, then.”

She looked up at me and licked the tip of my dick. I groaned, sliding my hands through her hair as she swallowed me. She licked up my shaft, cupping my balls as she continued licking and sucking, bringing me to the edge. And then she hollowed her cheeks and hummed along the slit at the tip of my cock.

She couldn’t fit all of me into her mouth. So, she used her hands to squeeze the rest, to tug and pull. I nearly came right then. I pulled her hair slightly to move her away from my dick, and then I was between her legs, her panties on the floor, me lapping at her. She groaned, her body shaking as I ate her out, taking my fill, needing her. Her legs draped over my shoulders, her thighs pressed against my head. I hummed along her clit, fingering her, finding that tight bundle of nerves as she came on my hand and face. And then I was over her, our gazes meeting as I slowly slid inside, both of us shaking with need. She wrapped her legs around my waist, and I thrust in and out of her. This wasn’t hard and fast like the other times. It was slow. Gentle. Something had changed.

She had seen every inch of me, every part that I tried to hide, and she was bearing herself to me, as well. Not only her body but also everything she had hidden away. The parts that I hadn’t been able to see because we had done our best to only be friends.

We were more than that, and it had taken us breaking in front of each other to see that. We took our time, and when we came, I held her close and kissed away her tears.

Because those tears weren’t for me. They were for everything else. And I knew that I might not be able to fix everything. We may walk away from this far more broken than we began, but she was who I needed in this moment—and maybe for longer. And I hoped to hell I could be who she needed, even if I wasn’t sure I could.

Chapter 21

Eliza

Ishook my hips to the music, and Brenna laughed.

“You have so much more rhythm than I do,” she said as she grinned at me. I winked and continued shaking my booty as I pressed the roller to my wall and added another coat of paint.

“I can’t help it. These hips don’t lie.” I paused. “Does that make me sound old? How old is that song?”

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