Page 91 of The Confidentiality Clause
I giggle at how obvious he’s being.
Sutton makes a queasy face. “Is this what you feel like around Shaw and I?”
“Yes,” everyone answers in unison, then laughs.
Brock drapes an arm over my shoulder. “We’ll be back.”
“Don’t take too long,” Miles calls out as we walk away. “We’re only here for the night.”
Because of how crazy all of their schedules are, they only managed to squeeze in one day. That’s why they didn’t bring their wives. That, and because they figured Brock might be even more overwhelmed if they did. This group is big enough without adding spouses into the mix.
The house is dark inside, with only a lamp lighting a dim path to the kitchen. Neither of us turns on the light. As soon as we reach the kitchen, Brock picks me up and sets me on the island. I drape my arms over his shoulders with a smile.
“How are you feeling?” he asks while his thumbs rub soft circles above my hips.
“I’m good. I think I got to rest plenty today. What about you?” I run my hands over his shoulders, down to his biceps, then back up again.
“I feel…lighter, I think. It was weird to talk after keeping it all in for so long. But I’m glad I was able to get everything out in the open.”
I lean in and give him a gentle kiss. “I’m proud of you. I know this is a lot of change and it’s not easy.”
His gaze is soft and open as he regards me. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you. You changed my life for the better when you walked into my office.”
Tears spring to my eyes. I let out a soft laugh and use the sleeve of my sweatshirt to dab beneath my eyes. “You can’t say things like that. I’m sensitive right now.”
He smiles and kisses the corner of my mouth. “I’m okay not talking for a little while.”
Heat that rivals the fire outside swirls in my abdomen. We lean in almost at the same time and melt into each other. Our movements are unhurried, in spite of our circumstances. I let my hands roam over his muscles, sliding them beneath the collar of his t-shirt. Brock hums and tightens his hold on my hips. He deepens the kiss, and we share the sweet taste of marshmallow.
The desire for more of him overwhelms me, and yet I don’t want to rush even a second. I savor each brush of his lips, each taste of him. I memorize the way his muscles ripple beneath my touch. The weight of his hands on my hips.
I pull back and trail kisses up his jaw. His skin is smooth and warm beneath my lips. He smells like smoke and citrus.
“I have a confession,” he rasps.
“Hm?” I press a kiss below his ear.
“When you first came out in this outfit, you looked so good I almost forgot how much I hate Duke.”
I let out a surprised laugh and pull back to look at him. His brown eyes are almost black in the dim light, but the heat in his gaze is unmistakable.
“I’m in sweats,” I say, and his eyes rove over me with evident desire.
“Do you really not know how gorgeous you are? I don’t buy that.”
I blush and dip my chin. “I wasn’t saying I’m ugly, just that I don’t get the appeal of me in this moment.”
“I don’t think you understand the power you hold over me.” He lifts my chin and brushes his lips over mine. “It’s dangerous.”
Tingles shoot all the way down to my toes. I’ve never felt this way before. It’s everything I used to lay in bed at night dreaming about. No, it’s better.
“What if I bought you a Duke sweatshirt and asked you to wear it?” I tease.
He gives me a wry smile. “I’d wear it. It might chip off a piece of my soul, but for you, I’d do it.”
I laugh. “I’d never make you do that.” I toy with the hair at the nape of his neck. “You know, I still have that UNC hoodie you gave me at graduation.”
He gave Sutton a bunch of UNC gear as a joke, and gifted me a hoodie as well. I rolled my eyes at the time and told him he was obnoxious, but the memory of that day was so happy I couldn’t get rid of it.
