Page 11 of Twisted Redemption

I straighten, pulling her with me, expecting her to let go of me.

But she doesn’t.

And neither do I.

“Blaze,” she says again, this time a whisper I barely hear. She’s staring up at me, her head tilted back, her lips slightly parted. Completely and utterly perfect.

And very much so off limits.

Let go. Get out of here. She’s not ready for this—you can’t do this to her. You can’t do this to yourself.

But I don’t move away. Instead, I lower my head so that my face is closer to hers, so that our lips are mere inches apart.

Still, she doesn’t move. And there’s no denying what I see in her soft, beautiful brown eyes. It’s mirrored in my own.

For a moment, I keep us just as we are. I have no idea what’s going to happen next, and if this is the closest I’ll ever get to Brooke, I want to make sure I remember every fucking thing.

Like the freckles sprayed across her cheeks, or the way her breath hitches when I pull her tightly against me, my hand slipping under the back of her shirt. Or how, when I move my lips even closer to hers, she still doesn’t pull away.

“Blaze,” she murmurs, “why did you help me today?”

Because I can’t stop thinking about you.

“Was it because you... because you ca-” She stops. Shakes her head. Her gaze moves from my eyes to my lips, just like it did earlier in her dad’s office.

My self control runs out. Keeping one hand on her lower back, I bring the other to cradle the back of her head—and press my lips to hers.

The small moan that escapes her just about does me in. But I keep the kiss slow, sensing a slight bit of hesitation from her. Her whole body shudders when I run my tongue across her bottom lip.

She brings her arms around my neck, pushing herself up on her tiptoes. The blanket falls from between us as she loses any hesitancy. And then her lips move against mine, confident and a little desperate.

When I haul her up, her legs wrap around my waist. She tangles her fingers in my hair and lets out a tiny moan when my fingers brush up her leg.

Brooke—Brooke—is in my arms, kissing me, her hips slightly grinding against mine. She feels so fucking good. I shouldn’t be touching her, but I can’t bring myself to stop.

No one has to know.

And it won’t matter once this bullshit with Charlie is over, anyway.

She breaks off our kiss, gasping for air. “Oh my god. Ohmygod.”

I nuzzle her chin up, exposing her neck, and brush my lips against her skin. She smells faintly floral, like summer and our childhood and the happiness that used to always sparkle in her eyes.

“God, I’ve waited so long to do this,” I mutter against her skin.

“So have I,” she whispers. “Blaze. I’ve missed you so much.”

I kiss her before she makes me remember why she’s missed me. That’s the last thing I want to think about right now. I don’t care if I’ll regret this later.

She shudders as I push her shirt up, uncovering her breasts. Her eyes are wide, maybe a bit nervous, but she doesn’t move to stop me. Instead, she rolls her hips against my erection.

“Fuck,” I say, leaning her backward so I can suck one of her pink nipples into my mouth.

She lets out a moan that shoots electricity straight to my dick, her head falling back. Fuck, this woman. When I switch to her other breast, I feel her fingernails digging into my arms.

I go until I can’t stand not seeing her face anymore. Setting her on the counter, I run a finger from her neck down to her panties. When I brush against the soaked fabric, she lets out a small whimper, her legs opening.

“Blaze,” she whispers, her eyes not leaving me.

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