Page 59 of Harboring Secrets
“Do we have time?” he asked, sliding closer to me so that his erection pressed against mine.
I glanced up at the clock, an ugly gold thing with no real numbers on it. Fucking minimalist garbage. “We’re supposed to meet her in an hour, I think.”
“Then we have plenty of time if I don’t make a mess.” Brodie slipped to the floor and shoved the coffee table out of the way with a grunt.
“That thing is heavier than it looks.” He laughed and situated himself between my legs. He put his hands on my knees and slid them up toward my crotch. Looking up at me, his expression was soft but determined. It was like he knew this place had no good memories for me, and he wanted to give me at least one.
I let him open the fly of my pants and free my cock. He took me in hand and leaned in with his pretty pink tongue poking out. Then suddenly he stopped and stared up at me.
“Do you have toothpaste here? I can’t meet your sister with dick breath.”
“Mention my sister again and you won’t have to worry about dick breath because it’s going to shrivel up and crawl inside me.”
Brodie flashed me a sassy expression. “Sorry, but also not sorry.”
Then his mouth was on me, warm and soft and perfect. His lips shielded me from his teeth as he took me in, inch by inch. A groan escaped me and I tipped my head back. My fingers found their way into Brodie’s hair. I let the silky strand slide through my fingers as he bobbed up and down.
I wasn’t sure if he was trying to kill me, but my balls tightened so fast that it made my head spin.
“Slow down, love,” I said on a laugh. “Or this will all be over far too soon.”
Brodie pulled back and released my cock. He shot me a mischievous grin. “Who says that wasn’t my evil plan?” he said, but when he returned to my dick, he took things slower. Lavishing my cock with attention. His tongue caressed the head, toyed with the slit, the ridge, and then eventually swallowed me whole. Sinking down slowly, taking me down to the root, he swallowed around my cock, his throat squeezing it perfectly.
He gagged and pulled away for a breath of air, and then was back again, sinking down, sucking me deep. I didn’t stand a chance.
“Brodie… I’m gonna—”
He sank down lower and redoubled his efforts. I looked down and watched his cheeks hollow. His gaze flicked up and caught mine and it was over for me. I came in his mouth, down his throat. I cried out, my voice sounding too loud in the otherwise silent space.
While I waited for my body to recover from being obliterated, Brodie tucked me back into my pants and wrestled with my zipper. Then he leaned his head against my knee and I ran my fingers through his hair.
The world seemed softer now. Less harsh. More inviting. Or maybe it was just the afterglow that had me feeling that way. I looked down at Brodie and he stared up at me at the same time like we were joined by an invisible string.
“You go freshen up and I’ll dig the boxes out of the closet for John.”
“I’ll help you pack a bag when I’m done.” Brodie pushed himself to his feet, pausing to kiss me.
“Mmmm, dick breath. My favorite.” I captured him and kissed him again, cutting off his burst of laughter. Though I wanted to take him to bed and strip him naked, I didn’t want to spend another unnecessary minute in this place. There was nothing here for me.
Chapter 29
Brodie
Ididnot,infact, have dick breath when I met Carol, nor did I have sex hair. But I did have a case of nerves that wouldn’t settle. We were supposed to meet her for dinner and I’d half expected to walk into some place with a strict dress code. Of course I’d be thrown out. It would be embarrassing and Carol would hate me.
Instead, I found myself being led into a restaurant with a patio on the sidewalk and a chalkboard sign outside with the special of the day scrawled across it in hot pink chalk. My eyes drifted up to the sign and I found myself smiling.
“Pierre’s Poutine.” I cut my gaze over to Liam, who smirked at me. “Are you serious?”
“This place is legendary around here. Of course they have the proper traditional poutine. But, don’t tell the Canadians, they also have versions that are more than just gravy, fries, and cheese curd.”
“What happens if you tell the Canadians?”
“Every time a Canadian finds out that you bastardized their poutine, another Canada Goose is born.”
The banter helped settle my nerves and I crashed into Liam when he stopped suddenly. I hadn’t even noticed that he was leading me to a table where a single woman sat nursing a beer.
She’d been dressed in a suit, but her jacket was hanging off the back of her chair and the sleeves of her blouse were rolled up past her elbows.
