Page 84 of Brawler
Sliding down the length of Brawler’s body, Emily landed lightly on her feet. Every nerve still sparked, her gaze dragged back to him as if she couldn’t bear the space. She wanted to consume him. To stay pressed against him.
“Could you give me a couple of minutes?” she asked softly, her eyes never leaving his.
Brawler looked at Ben, then back at her. A muscle jumped in his jaw. “I’ll wait in your bedroom. Don’t make me come looking for you.” His voice was low, steady, but the tone was devastating, threaded with sex and raw desire, and something else that made her heart squeeze hard.
Ben couldn’t miss it. No one could. What was going to happen once she finished with him was written in every word Brawler had left hanging in the air.
For one wild second, she wanted to test it. Wanted to make him come looking for her just because she loved driving him crazy.Don’t make me…wasn’t a threat. It was a foregone conclusion. The thought of him, probably naked and hard, hunting her down with that relentless focus, sent a tremor straight through her. But she wouldn’t put Ben through that.
Ben let out an incredulous breath, raking a hand through his hair. “What the fuck, Emily? You got over me pretty damn fast.”
“I did meet him in the jungle. He’s a Navy SEAL, and he saved my life more than once.”
Ben’s eyes widened. “Fucking, what? Special forces. Jesus, only you, Emily.” Ben’s shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him. He gave her a long, quiet look. “I wish things had been different, Emily. That we were different people.”
She drew in a soft breath and met his anger with quiet certainty. “Come on, Ben. We both know what our relationship was about. We both know we weren’t right for each other. Sometimes you can be with someone for years and think you’re in love. Then you meet someone and it’swham, right in the heart. Fast and furious. Who can explain that? I can’t. Don’t really want to.” Her voice gentled. “You go to London and find your future. It’s not going to be with me. It never was.”
“Goodbye, Emily.”
“Bye, Ben. Good luck.”
When the door shut behind him, the apartment fell into silence, the kind that pressed heavy and expectant.
Emily drew in a breath, called out lightly, “Are you hungry? I can make us something. I’m a pretty good cook, especially with a stove.”
Brawler filled the doorway, bare-chested, those sinfully tight jeans slung low on his hips, the denim straining over the impressive outline of his arousal. His gaze raked her like a slow caress.
“Get your shapely ass in here now,” he growled, “unless you want me to come out there and fuck you on the countertop.” Power radiated off him, raw and undeniable.
He lifted his arms over his head, muscles stretching, biceps bulging, chest tightening, every line of him a blatant promise. Then came that smile, voracious, devastating, and Emily’s knees nearly gave out.
She pushed away from the counter, her heart beating like it might burst, and walked to him on unsteady legs. His eyes tracked every step, hungry and unrelenting, until she was right there, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his skin.
“Hello, Mr. Neanderthal. I’ve missed you like hell.”
She didn’t get another word out before he caught her by the hips and hauled her into the room, his mouth slamming downon hers with a growl. The kiss was fierce, searing, all tongue and teeth and need. She clung to his heavy shoulders as he walked her backward until the back of her knees hit the bed, then toppled with her, landing above her in a controlled crash of heat and muscle.
His weight pressed her into the mattress, the solid bulk of him caging her in, making her dizzy with how much she wanted him. His scent filled her nose again, sweat, steel, something wild, and it was all she could do not to moan just from breathing him in.
He tore his mouth from hers long enough to rasp, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch you like this again. How hard it’s been not to want you every second we were in that jungle.” His hand slid under her shirt, callused palm finding bare skin, and she arched into the rough glide.
Emily’s laugh was breathless, shaky. “Pretty sure you duct taped me the first time you touched me.”
His answering grin was dark, feral. “You’ve been under my skin ever since.” He hooked his thumbs under her shirt and yanked it over her head, tossing it aside without looking.
Her bra followed, and then his mouth was on her breasts, licking, sucking, biting just enough to make her gasp, then soothe with his tongue until she was writhing beneath him. His jeans ground into the soft part of her thigh, the hard ridge of him unmistakable.
She dug her nails into his shoulders, her voice breaking on his name. “Christian…”
He froze for half a beat, then lowered his forehead to hers, eyes blazing. “Say it again.”
“Christian.” A whisper, a plea, a surrender.
He groaned, low and guttural, and shoved his jeans down enough to free himself. The sight of him, thick, hard, ready, made her whole body clench with want. He slid her jeans downwith rough hands, stripping her bare. She opened her legs wide as he pressed that hot, velvet erection against her, skin to skin, scorching and overwhelming.
The first thrust stole her breath, the second her mind. By the third she was lost, moving with him, gasping his name, nails clawing, body burning. He filled her completely, surrounded her, consumed her, and she had never felt so alive.
Every stroke was raw possession, every kiss a vow she hadn’t expected, and when the climax ripped through her, sharp and primal, she almost did growl, biting his shoulder to keep from screaming his name to the ceiling.
