CHAPTER 21
Brooke’s heart was racing as she pulled him down the dim hallway leading to her room. She was naked—naked—towing him through her house and into her most private space, and she realized she might be making a mistake. But she glanced over her shoulder, and one look at the desire etched on his face banished her doubts. Mistake or not, they were doing this now. She quickened her pace, towing him faster as they neared her room.
“God, I love your ass.” He reached out and caught her around her waist with one hand, while the other squeezed her butt.
“You do not.”
He swatted it, and she yelped at the sting.
“Wanna bet?”
She laughed and fell forward onto the bed, and he came down on top of her, caging her in with his arms. She flipped onto her back and wrestled him, and in no time he had her pinned underneath him with her wrists clamped against the mattress.
She smiled up at him, but he didn’t smile back, and when he kissed her, she tasted all that pent-up anger he’d been trying to keep in check. Something was different tonight. There was something raw and possessive, and she’d never liked that with anyone before, but coming from him, it thrilled her. The realization that it did sent a jolt of excitement through her body. She bit his lip, and when he jerked back in surprise, she yanked her hand free and burrowed it between them so she could unfasten his pants.
He pulled back and looked at her, his gaze narrowing as she smiled up at him and eased down his zipper.
“Sneaky,” he grumbled, then kissed her again, giving her lip a nibble of his own, and when her fingers curled around him, he groaned into her mouth.
She loved the way she felt with him—powerful and in charge and exhilarated, like she could do anything she wanted. And in this moment, she wanted him and nothing else. She wanted his powerful body and the thrumming sexual energy she felt coming off him in waves.
He murmured something and pushed up and off the bed, watching her with that heated gaze as he kicked off his shoes and stripped off the rest of his clothes. She propped on her elbows to watch him as he dug into his wallet for a condom and tossed it on the nightstand, and soon he was back at her side, stroking his hand down the front of her body. It came to rest just below her navel, and her heart did a little dance of anticipation.
He eased on top of her, using his knees to push her legs apart as her rested his weight on his arms and kissed her—starting with her mouth, then sliding down her neck and lingering at her breasts. He’d obviously noticed how sensitive they were, and he stayed there teasing and licking and suckling her until she was writhing under him, dizzy with need. She arched up, pressing her hips against him.
“Sean,” she said, hoping he heard the impatience in her voice.
He pulled away and sat back on his knees, watching her intently as he pulled on the condom. Then he stretched out over her and entered her body with a powerful stroke that had her gasping.
He adjusted her legs and did it again, and she tipped her head back and slid her hands up his back. He felt good, so amazingly perfect inside her, and she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him as close as she possibly could as he drove into her again and again, making the bed shake. She tipped her head back and tried to keep up with him as he hammered into her.
“Brooke . . .” His voice was strained and the muscles of his shoulders bunched under her hands. She clenched herself around him as hard as she could and felt herself start to come.
“Yes. Yes, Sean, yes.”
He thrust into her again, and she saw stars behind her eyes and the orgasm blazed through her.
He groaned and collapsed, catching his weight on his elbows as he buried his face against her hair.
She didn’t move. She couldn’t. She could barely breathe with his body pinning her beneath him. Then he pushed up on his palms and stared down at her, breathing hard.
“Did I hurt you?”
“What? No.”
He gazed down at her for a moment, then rolled onto his back, closing his eyes and dropping his arm over his face.
She propped on an elbow and looked at him, taking a moment to catch her breath, too. She had no idea what he was thinking right now, and when he let his arm flop onto the bed, he looked dazed and winded and, yes, still stressed-out.
“Hey.”
He turned to look at her.
She trailed her finger along the stubble covering his jaw. “I’m sorry you were upset earlier.”
His face tightened. He sat up on his elbows, and she could tell he wasn’t ready for the past tense. He was still upset with her.
He got up and disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, then returned and tossed a pair of throw pillows to the floor. He stretched out next to her and pulled her against him, nestling her head against his chest.
“You’re not sorry for going behind my back and meddling in my case, though, right?”
Now she wished she hadn’t brought this up so soon. She could have at least waited until they were dressed again, or under the covers, or something, rather than lying here naked together.
“I told you. I took a calculated risk that I believe was warranted by the situation.”
He looked at her. “Again, we’re going to have to agree to disagree.”
What, exactly, was happening here? His responses were all over the map.
“Let’s drop it.”
“You mean that?”
He sighed. “I’m resigned to the fact that you don’t want me or anyone else telling you what to do.”
She tipped her head back and ran her fingertip over his jaw again, watching the tension in his face.
“But you’re still angry.”
“Yes.” He stared up at the ceiling, then looked down at her. “The thought of something happening to you—” He shook his head, as though he couldn’t find the words.
Emotion swelled inside her. “I know.”
He looked at her.
“This summer when I heard you’d been shot . . . I couldn’t breathe. I felt like my heart was being squeezed in a big fist.” She settled her cheek against his side, and for a long, quiet moment they just lay there.
Sean ran his fingers through her hair, and she closed her eyes to enjoy it. She loved the way he touched her. She loved the way he made her feel cared for, but not weak.
“Brooke?”
“Hmm?”
“How come you never said anything about coming by my hospital room?”
She opened her eyes and looked at him. “You knew?”
“I saw you.”
“I thought you were asleep.”
“I was in and out.”
“Oh.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t know.”
She’d gone to the hospital without even deciding to. As soon as she’d heard what happened to him, she hadn’t been able to stay away.
She couldn’t explain it now any better than she could then.
“I don’t know why I never said anything.” Her words sounded inadequate, even to her. “When I was there, I thought you were out cold. And later . . . I thought you might think it was weird. It wasn’t like we knew each other that well then.”
He pulled her closer. “I’m glad you came.”
“Why?”
“Gave me something good to think about when I was ready to throw in the towel on my physical therapy.”
Her chest tightened. “Was it bad?”
“Excruciating.”
She stroked her hand over his pecs, hating that he’d had to go through that. She knew that he’d worried he might never make a full recovery, and she’d been elated for him when she heard he was back on the job.
A hard lump lodged in her throat. He’d thought about her during his PT. Why did knowing that send a flutter of anxiety through her?
She was so confused. All her emotions swirled together in a big tornado inside her—fear, dread, hope. What the hell was she doing? They’d established the ground rules for what this was, and she shouldn’t be having all these thoughts.
“Hey.” He squeezed her shoulders. “You’re all uptight. What’s wrong?”
She closed her eyes. “I knew I’d be bad at this.”
“What?”
“This casual-relationship thing. Just having fun.”
He looked down at her and lifted an eyebrow. “You’re not having fun?”
“No. I am.” She sat up and pulled away. “But I can feel myself getting attached to you.”
“And that’s bad?”
“Yes. I told you, I don’t want a relationship right now. The timing’s all wrong.”
“Maybe the timing’s perfect,” he said quietly. “Maybe this is just what you need right now to move from an unhappy place in your life to a place where you feel good.” He eased her back against his chest and stroked his hand down her arm. “You deserve to feel good, Brooke.”
His words put a knot in her stomach. “You sound . . .”
“What?”
She pulled back to look at him. “Are you really serious about this? About us?”
“Yes.”
The solemn look in his eyes when he said it made her chest ache. “But you said you wanted casual. I never thought . . .”
“What?”
“I didn’t think you wanted a big commitment or anything. You’ve always seemed like . . .”
He smiled. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. Kind of a player.”
“I’ve changed.”
She looked at him for a long moment. Then she leaned her head against his shoulder because it was easier than looking him in the eye when he was telling her all this stuff. She didn’t want to hurt him. Or disappoint him.
“I spent years steering clear of anything serious. I’d pretty much perfected the art of keeping things casual, playing the field.”
She felt a tug of relief. It hadn’t been just her. He’d definitely projected that image when she first met him.
“I basically dodged commitment of any kind—with the exception of my job. That had my full attention. But when it came to relationships? You’re right, I was like that. Was.”
She tipped her head back to look at him. “What happened?”
Seconds ticked by as he stared at the ceiling. Then he looked at her. “The shooting changed me, Brooke. It changed everything.”
His whole body felt rigid now, and she waited for what he would say. He’d never talked about this with her, not in any detail. She stroked her finger over the scar the bullet had left on his shoulder.
“I was there, pinned in that truck, clutching my Glock in my hand and waiting for that sniper to come finish me off.”
She shuddered at the image and pulled her hand away from his scar.
“The gunshot wound, that wasn’t the worst part. My leg was so fucked-up, I can’t even describe the pain. And the whole time I’m trapped there, all these crazy thoughts are racing through my head. I’m thinking about my parents. My sisters. I’m thinking about my brother and my nieces and nephews, everybody. I was so sure I was going to die. I was certain of it. And I was smacked in the face with the realization that there was so much more I wanted to do with my life . . . so many things I’ve never done or never said to people. Things I never even thought about, because I was so cocky and arrogant and I always thought I’d have plenty of time.”
She envisioned him pinned in that truck, bleeding and sweating and believing his life was about to end. Her pulse was racing just thinking about it.
“And then by some miracle I didn’t die, but I ended up in that hospital and then in rehab, where I seriously wanted to die. . . .” He shook his head. “Rehab was bad, but I had a lot of time on my hands and I did a lot of thinking. I’m not proud of some of the things I’ve done. I took my family for granted a lot. And I hurt people, including some nice women who didn’t deserve how I treated them.”
“How did you treat them?”
“I basically took what I wanted and didn’t stick around for anything else. I avoided whatever wasn’t easy.”
He shifted to look at her. “I’m not like that anymore. I don’t take anything for granted now. Not a single day.” He laced his fingers through hers. “Not one night.”
Brooke stared at him, completely at a loss for words. She wasn’t sure what he was trying to tell her, and she had no idea how to respond.
“This doesn’t happen every day, Brooke. We’re lucky.” He squeezed her hand. “Don’t throw it away because you’re afraid.”
She sat up and scooted back against the pillows. “I . . . I honestly don’t know what to say. I’m confused, Sean.”
“Why?”
“Because I hear what you’re saying and I even agree with a lot of it. I know this—whatever this is—doesn’t come along all the time. At least, it hasn’t for me.” She sighed. “But every time I’ve invested in a relationship, every single time, I thought it was special and I thought it would work and I did everything I could and it still went sideways. And I just got out of a situation like that. I’m still getting out of it, and I can’t bring myself to trust anyone right now.”
“That’s okay.”
She gaped at him. “How is that okay?”
“I told you, I’m a patient man.” He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.
Brooke stared at him, speechless. In all her life, no one had ever shown her such caring, such tenderness. Not Matt, not Joshua—no one.
Until this instant, she’d considered tenderness a weakness. It was something that made her roll her eyes when she saw it in movies. But right now, in this moment with Sean, she realized it was an expression of strength. He was so confident in himself—and, even more amazingly, in her. He was so determined to wait for her to get over her fears and let this thing between them take its natural course. But she knew all too well that the course could result in hurt and disappointment for both of them.
Where did he get this faith in her? In them?
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking . . . that I wish I could be more like you. More trusting.”
He stroked his fingers down her hip and gently cupped his hand under her thigh to pull her lower on the bed. He hovered over her, watching her in the dimness.
He smiled slightly. “Stop worrying so much.”
“I can’t.”
“Try.”
“I knew you were faking it earlier.”
“Faking what?”
“I knew you wanted more than ‘keep it casual’ and ‘no pressure.’ ”
“Okay, honestly? You’re right. What I wanted was for you to give me a chance.”
“I feel like I’m a mess right now, Sean. Something’s wrong with me and I’m numb.”
He traced his fingertips over her breast and down to her hip, and a warm shiver went through her. “Not everything’s numb.”
“I’m not talking about sex.”
“I am.” He glided his hand up her body, brushing his thumb over her nipple. “I found your weakness and I plan to take full advantage.” He lowered his head to her breast, and she felt the hot pull of his mouth as his hand slid between her legs.
“Not fair. You play dirty.”
He groaned against her skin. “Dirty? You have no idea.” He moved her thighs apart and settled between her legs, pressing his erection against her. “The first time I saw you at a crime scene, you were in dirty coveralls and work boots and you had soot all over your face, and I was hard for hours.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I was.”
“That was that house-fire scene. That was months ago.”
“I know.”
“You’ve really been thinking about—”
“Yes, Brooke. I’ve been thinking about us for months, wishing we could do what we’re doing right now. And not just this—although I could do this all night. But there are so many things I want to do with you, if you’d give us a chance.”
She felt a pinch in her chest. This wasn’t just sex to him. He wanted a real relationship. And he was steadily chipping away at the protective shell she’d grown around her naturally hopeful heart.
Why was she letting him do this to her? She felt a renewed sense of panic. She wasn’t prepared to go on this roller-coaster ride again.
“Stop.” He reached up and smoothed the crease between her brows. “I can tell you’re thinking again.”
“I am.”
“I told you, I’m patient. We don’t have to figure all this out now.”
“I can’t help it! I analyze things, Sean. That’s what I do.”
“I have an idea.”
“What?”
He kissed her forehead, then her mouth, then her neck. “How about less thinking and more kissing? Think we could try that?”
“We could try.”