Page 96 of Help Me Remember
Her small hands are on my chest, shoving me to the ground. I fall back, and she’s on top of me. “Brie,” I say, both asking for more and to stop.
“No talking. Please. Don’t . . .”
I push my hand into her hair, gripping the silky, blonde tresses in my fingers. I pull her mouth back to mine, and she moans. I let her lead, giving her the control I know she’s searching for.
When I got back from the last assignment, I was the same way. I didn’t know who I was anymore or how to process all I saw, and I needed to have something—someone who could give me that. It was her. And now, I’ll do the same.
I kiss her deeper and shift her body a little so I can feel her heat. She groans when I lift up, hitting the spot where I know she needs me.
“Spencer.” Brielle’s voice drifts over my name.
I grip her hips, and her hands move to my chest so she’s sitting like a goddamn queen above me. Her eyes are on mine, the sapphire color turning liquid in her desire. I pull her dress up higher, skimming my fingers over her soft skin.
“Anything you want, I’ll give it to you,” I promise.
“You, I want you.”
She never has to ask for that. I am hers, and I will always be. I love her with everything I am. I will never deny her, damn the consequences.
“Then take what you want,” I urge her.
She shifts, pulling my undershirt up, and I let go of her hips long enough to remove it. It doesn’t matter that we’ve made love hundreds of times because, right now, it’s almost like the first time all over again.
I remember the wonder we both felt. How we both wanted it and were also apprehensive at the same time. It was never supposed to happen, Brielle and me. We were not a foregone conclusion. No, we were friends who became so much more.
I push the blonde hair behind her ear. “Is that all?” I ask.
She shakes her head with her lower lip between her teeth.
“No? What else?”
Brielle gives me a coy smile, and then we’re face-to-face and her hair creates a veil around us. Her lips are on mine as her hands move from my shoulders down my arms until she has our fingers entwined.
I’m at her mercy. Just like I’ve been for a very long time.
Way too soon, she pushes up and rolls off me onto her side. “Take off your pants,” she demands.
“And what about you? I’m going to be naked while you’re still in that dress.”
She rises, and I do the same. I undo my belt, the button, and then slide the zipper down. I don’t give her exactly what she asks for yet. I want to see her. I need to see her. I have missed all of this. The playfulness that we have. The trust that we share, being completely unabashed with each other.
“That’s not off,” Brielle says.
My pants hang on my hips, but I don’t move to take them off. “They’re not.”
“Why?”
“I think,” I say low and husky, taking a step toward her. “I think I might need some help.”
“Do you?” Brie asks with a grin.
“I think so. Do you think you could . . .” I skim my finger from her throat to the tops of her breasts.
“Could what?”
Her voice is shaking, and I relish in it.
I lean in closer, my lips against her ear. “Help me remove them?”
