Page 52 of Fight for Me

CHAPTER XII

JENNY

It’s after midnight and I find myself staring at the ceiling and reminiscing everything that happened so far while I listen to the calming sounds of Henry’s breathing and the house settling down after the storm.

The rain is still pattering gently on the roof window, but the moon has made its appearance some time ago, casting soft light onto the wooden floors.

I think about the moment I thought Brody was finally going to kiss me. He wanted it just as much as I did. I’m sure I didn’t imagine it. But why is he always pushing me away at the last moment?

Now, I’m not naïve to think that a man like Brody would ever settle with a girl like me. That goes without saying. But the chemistry between us is undeniable, and I wish we could exploit it. At least until it’s time for us to move on.

Feeling hot and bothered by the needs Brody awakened in me, I throw away the covers and fan myself with my hand. I feel frustrated and on edge.

Not able to deal with this restlessness, I peek one more time at the sleeping toddler, and then get out of bed before I can talk myself out of what I’m about to do. I exit the guest room and move blindly along the wall until I reach a doorknob.

Silently, I enter Brody’s bedroom and make out his sleeping form in the moonlit room. I step soundlessly toward the bed and reach out with my hand to touch his face. Before I’m even halfway there, though, his hand shoots from under the covers at the speed of light, and he grabs my wrist before I can even blink. I’m being pulled forward and then flipped on the bed, so I land with Brody hovering over me, his hands restricting both of my wrists.

I gasp loudly at the feel of Brody’s strong thighs around my own, and the sound brings Brody back from his attack mode. He shakes his head and leans back in shock.

“Jenny? What the hell? Did no one ever tell you to not creep on a sleeping former soldier? Fuck. I could’ve hurt you,” he whispers angrily and breathes sharply before letting go of my hands. His legs stay in place, though, straddling me.

I don’t answer him as I’m too busy perusing his perfectly sculpted chest, the moonlight illuminating one side of his body. Our eyes meet, and I pant when Brody tries to move away from my body but only ends up rubbing his hard dick, that’s straining his cotton pajama pants, on my leg. I grab his forearms and stop him from moving further.

His brows furrow. “Jen, what are you...”

I shush him by putting my finger on his mouth and then, before he can protest, remove it and lift my head to close the distance between us in a kiss, making Brody groan. I move my head back slightly, putting my hands on his handsome face, and gaze straight into his eyes as I whisper against his lips, “Please, don’t reject me. I know you want this.”

Brody doesn’t move, stiff as a statue as he whispers back with a strained face. “Baby, we can’t. It’s wrong.”

“No, it’s not,” I argue sternly and move to kiss him on the neck, smirking when he growls loudly and clenches his fists by my side, trying to restrain himself from touching me.

Then I move to the other side of his neck and slide my palm down his chest. “Don’t think. Just feel.” And just as I say that, I feel the uneven crevices on the side of Brody’s torso, that’s covered by the shadow.

Before he can move away, I lean forward and kiss the rough, scarred skin. Brody tries to protest, but when I shove my hands down his boxers, all I get from him is a sharp intake of breath.

Just as my hand curls around his hard shaft, he grabs it to stop me, and protests weekly, “Jen, I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

I lift myself again to meet his gaze before kissing him softly. “You won’t, I want this.” And then I draw my lips closer to his ear to whisper desperately, “Fuck me, Brody.”

“Christ,” he says through clenched teeth, but grabs my hips in his hands and moves my body closer to his. He gazes into my eyes as if trying to gauge my reaction to his touch and then seems to finally make up his mind when he mutters, “Guess I’m going to hell,” before kissing me hungrily.

Our tongues intertwine as we both recline on the bed, Brody’s weight on me, his dick aligning perfectly between my open thighs. One of Brody’s hands tangles in my hair, while the other one moves south, touching my breast through the goddamn t-shirt. Why do we still have clothes between us?

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