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Brianna
L iv beams. “It’s perfect. Really. Like a work of art.”
I wring my hands, still nervous even though she’s been complimenting the site for ten minutes. “Are you sure? I mean—test it out for a few days or a few weeks—that way you’ll know if it’s still what you want.”
Liv takes her eyes from the computer and smiles at me. “Brianna. It is what I want. It’s quirky and fun, but professional and easy to navigate. You did exactly what I want.”
She surprises me by giving me a hug. I hold on tight, my heart clutching. Liv is the closest thing to a sister I’ve ever had. She calls me every week, not only to check in on the website, but to see how I am. To tell me she’s never seen Michael so happy. To see if I want to go to lunch or go shopping.
We’ve become closer than I ever thought we could.
She checks her watch. “Michael will be home soon. I should probably get going.”
“He usually works late on Fridays to catch up. Since he doesn’t work on Saturdays anymore—”
“I know!” Liv grins. “Isn’t that great? Mom and I have been trying to get him to take full weekends off for years. Then you come along and he stops almost right away.”
I open my mouth to answer, but she’s already gathering her purse and heading to the elevator.
“I’m just going to get out of your way,” Liv says, waving. “You have a good weekend and I’ll be in touch next week.”
I rush after her. “Let me know if there are any glitches. I’ll be around the whole weekend—”
“It’s fine. I’ll call you next week.” She gives me another quick hug, but when the elevator dings, she winces. “Damn.”
“What? What’s wrong?”
She points to the elevator. “Too late.”
When the doors open to reveal Michael, she shrugs her shoulders and says to him, “Sorry, sorry. We were just finishing up. I was just on my way out.”
Michael tugs the end of her ponytail. “Didn’t give away any secrets, did you?”
“Nope.” Liv hugs me again. “See you next week.”
When she gets in the elevator, I turn to Michael as he sets a bag on the floor. “Secrets? There are secrets? Is that why you’re home early?”
He doesn’t answer, only pulls me against him and kisses me so long and hard I nearly melt. My whole body is throbbing with need for him, enough to distract me from why he’s here so early.
“That was a nice welcome,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Aren’t I supposed to be the one welcoming you like that?”
“Not tonight.” He reaches for the bag at his feet and pulls out a bouquet of flowers. “These are for you?”
My mouth drops open. Flowers? “But…why?”
He angles his head at me. “Why did I bring you flowers?”
“Yes. I mean—thank you.” I realize he’s still holding them out to me and I’m just staring at him like an idiot. I take the flowers, cradling them in my arms. “I’m sorry. Thank you. I should have said that first.”
Michael grips my chin gently. “You act like no one’s given you flowers before.”
“I…” I don’t want to admit it, but no one has. I had a nice boyfriend in college who would bring me drawings he did all the time though, which was just as sweet. It’s not like I haven’t had people treat me well. I guess I was just with Chet so long, I forgot what gestures like this were.
Or what they meant.
“Seriously?” Michael asks, his jaw clenching. “That asshole didn’t even give you flowers?”
I put the bouquet to my nose and sniff hard. “I don’t want to talk about Chet.”
And I don’t. Chet is out of my life and now I have flowers. And Michael. And, hopefully the whole evening with him.
There’s still irritation in Michael’s eyes, but I have the perfect remedy. I lean up on my toes and kiss him softly, tracing my tongue over his bottom lip.
He groans and crushes me to him. “Brianna. You’re going to make this hard.”
I glance down at his pants with a wicked grin. “Already looks hard.”
He shakes his head. “Dirty girl. Is that how you want to play it? Because we can change our plans.”
I blink. “Plans? We have plans?”
He takes the flowers from my arms and sets them aside. Then he advances on me. I walk backward, part amused, part curious, and part thrilled. When Michael wants me, he makes it clear. And I hardly ever have a problem with it. I want him most of the time, too. And it’s nice to be wanted. To want. And to be able to be with someone who doesn’t fault you for it.
“We have plans that are going to be put on hold,” Michael says, still stalking toward me.
“But…wait…” I’m nearly to his bedroom—actually the bedroom we’ve been sharing—and I can’t stop smiling. “I want to know about the plans.”
“They’re plans for dinner and maybe something afterward.”
My shoulder blades hit the wall. “Really?”
He stops in front of me and slowly puts his hands up on either side of me, caging me in. “Really. It’s our anniversary.” He smiles. “Three months from when first signed the contract.”
For the second time tonight, my mouth drops open. I process his words for a moment, and then throw my arms around him, surprising him.
He absorbs the gesture, wrapping me in his arms, and kissing my ear, then my cheek, then my mouth.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I begin, then continue when he opens his mouth to argue, “which of course you know. But you did. You remembered and did it anyway and I—I—” I break off, heart full, and mouth even more full of words I want to say.
I love you.
It had almost come out of my mouth. I’d almost told him what I’d been feeling for the past several days. Michael is more than I’d expected, more than I ever thought I deserved.
He touches my cheek. “What is it?”
Instead of telling him how I feel, I show him. I latch my mouth onto his and kiss him with everything I have.
I feel him grow hard again, the evidence of his arousal pressing between us.
“Brianna,” he murmurs, his hand twisting in my hair. He pulls my head back and nips at my lips. “You’re so sweet.”
“I think that’s my line.”
I break free of his grasp to unbutton his slacks. I pull them down, along with his boxers, and let his erection spring free.
He goes in for a kiss, but I skirt that as well, knowing what I want. I lower to my knees in front him. Michael starts to say something, but his words are cut short by his slow release of breath.
I wrap my lips around his cock, starting at the head, and then slide as far to the base as I can.
He braces one hand against the wall as I pleasure him with my tongue, mouth, and teeth. His other hand curls into my hair and his hips pump automatically against me.
“God, Brianna.” His voice is low, husky, barely controlled. “Shit. This feels so good.”
I work harder and faster, determined to bring him to his breaking point. His body shudders, and then he grips my shoulders.
“No, I can’t,” he hisses, pulling me up. “Not here.”
He tugs me into the bedroom, then takes off my clothes quickly and efficiently, all the while kissing me and murmuring words about how beautiful I am. Every time I try to take off another piece of his clothes, he brushes my hands aside and says, “Let me.”
By the time we’re both completely naked, I’m slick with wanting him. My center throbs along with the fast beat of my heart.
“I want you,” I murmur.
His lips trace mine while his hands wander my body. “And I want you.”
He turns me around and kisses my neck. My knees press against the bed, and I can hardly stand with his mouth and hands on me, but Michael holds me up. When one hand slides lower and lower, skimming my abdomen and then cupping me, I moan.
“I need you,” I say this time.
He slides his finger inside of me, working it around my wetness, and my knees nearly buckle. “Bend over,” he says.
I do what he asks, leaning over the bed and bracing myself with my arms.
“Lower,” he murmurs, running his hand down my spine and giving me chills.
I press my cheek against the comforter with my ass in the air. Michael’s hands wander again, skimming down my sides, caressing my bare ass cheeks, and then circling around to cup my breasts.
I feel his erection hard against my opening. I push my hips back automatically, trying to feel him inside of me.
“Is this what you want?” he asks.
“Yes.”
My heart races out of control. I want him inside me so badly, I can’t stand it. Before I can beg, he shifts and then slides inside of me, nice and slow.
I spread for him inch by inch, and every movement feels so good. His groan of pleasure turns me on even more.
“Yes, please,” I whisper. “Faster.”
Michael obeys, pumping his hips against me so our flesh slaps loud and hard in the silence of the room. My fingers clench hard on the comforter as the pressure builds.
“God, yes,” I say.
Michael grunts something I can’t make out. He grips my hip with one hand to help pull me back against him every time he thrusts, and the other slides around to my front. His finger finds my clit, and I let out a sharp gasp when he connects.
My whole body is alive with sensation, at Michael’s mercy as he drives me closer and closer to the edge.
He pumps one more time and twirls his fingers expertly, and I cry out as the orgasm hits me. Michael continues to thrust into me, over and over again and hitting every sensitive spot. When he finally reaches his peak, he comes hard inside of me even as my orgasm continues. All I can do is hang onto the comforter as the pleasure rolls over me.