Page 50 of Hunter Moon

He gave me a shy little smile. “I guess Mom would be disappointed if I didn’t come home with at least enough apples for breakfast tomorrow.”

“I’d kill for that cheesecake thing she used to make when we were kids,” I said, as light as possible. I didn’t want him to think I would actually kill anyone, and it was hard to say if he’d take me seriously, no matter my tone.

He snorted and waved me off as he plucked the first few apples. “Please, you almost cried the time she made it with lemon curd instead of apples.”

“Excuse me, that was a perfectly valid religious experience. Your mother is a wonder of the world, and I was appreciating her perfection.” I wrapped my arms around the basket, holding it next to him as he picked the tree over, choosing the fruit he liked best.

“Funny how you always appreciated her perfection most when there were no apples involved. One would almost think you weren’t a Grove.” The next apple, he tossed, making me reach up to catch it unless I wanted it to smack me in the face. “Get to work, Grove, or no cheese tart for you, apple or otherwise. I’ll have Mom serve plain Red Delicious apples for dessert.”

I stared at him, mouth hanging open. “You wouldn’t. We don’t even have those in the grove.”

“Of course you don’t. They taste like shiny red styrofoam.” He yanked down a smallish apple, holding it up between his fingers as though presenting it for inspection, then took a bite, closing his eyes and crunching away.

I deliberately did not notice how the juice ran down his chin. I’d never wanted a taste of apple more in my entire life.

And you know what?

What the hell? He’d said there better be making out. If he changed his mind, we could stop and go back to the apples. So I set the basket down, stepping forward, but leaving a foot of space between us, so he didn’t feel crowded. And when he swallowed his bite, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his, the smell and taste of fresh, tart apples filling my senses. It had never been better.

Just as he had back in the car, Brook bridged the gap between us, pressing up against me, running one hand up through my hair. I wished it were longer, so he could get a handful. He’d always loved tugging on it when we were kids, and it had been sexy as hell.

Who was I kidding? Everything about Brook was sexy as hell.

With his implicit permission, I swept forward, exploring his mouth like it was new territory and I meant to plant my flag, kissing him until I had to decide whether to break away or pass out from lack of air. Even then, even as he gasped for breath, he only pushed into the kiss more, deeper, harder.

He demanded, and I was never going to tell Brook no again, so I gave. I only hesitated when he pressed his whole front against me, a long, warm line, and I could feel his hard cock against my thigh. Did he want me to notice? To pay it particular attention? Or to ignore it, pretend that I wasn’t perfectly willing to fall on my knees and worship at the altar of Brook Morgan?

Finally, I broke away, just a few inches, pressing our foreheads together as I panted. “Brook, baby, I will give youanythingyou want from me. But you gotta tell me what that is, because I don’t want to hurt you. You say the word, I’m here. Or not, if you don’t want it.”

30

Brook

Ugh, the absolute last thing I wanted to do was talk. I wanted to forget every reason this made me nervous, how scary it was to want Aspen this much and what would happen if he left again, how long it’d been since I’d been kissed by someone I wanted to kiss me.

But hell, I wouldn’t have wanted Aspen so much if he weren’t the kind of man to check in, who cared about what I wanted. Just, in asking for more, I risked him not following through. For some reason, that’d have been so much worse than never asking him for anything at all.

His thigh was there, hard, pressing just between my knees. I shifted forward, pushing up on my toes and inching my legs apart until his thigh slid between mine. I rocked against him, only once, my breath coming in soft gasps as I searched his face for any sign this wasn’t okay, any doubt that’d make him pull away and leave me again.

“I just want to feel you,” I admitted.

That was all it took for his broad hands to come around my back, sliding down the curve until he was gripping my ass. His fingers flexed, letting me sink on my heels and pulling my whole body back up a second later, the friction against his thigh making my thoughts scatter.

I bit back a moan, and I felt him smile against my lips.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “There’s nobody close.”

I could’ve pricked my ears, heard that for myself, but with Aspen, I was allowed to let go. He’d take care of everything. Take care ofme.

There had to be more. I needed more of him. But when I reached for the front of my jeans, the button there was tight and my fingers were clumsy.

Aspen noticed my attempts, and eased me back. “If I do anything you don’t like—”

“I’ll tell you,” I hissed. “Just—” A frustrated sound worked up from my throat. It mattered—mattered that I’d been hurt and that he was trying to avoid hurting me more, but I didn’t want to think about that.

Aspen met my gaze, and after a second passed, he nodded. His own hands were gratingly effective, popping open the button of my jeans and sliding down the zipper in swift moves.

He pulled back, glancing down, and the balance of his body tipped forward like he’d fall to his knees. I caught him by the arm, gripping his bicep with one hand while my other sneaked around his neck.

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