I never imagined a thirty minute drive out to the suburbs was going to be what killed me. Fortunately, Brooks seemed to feel the death by long wait approaching too and was doing his best to prevent that. He drove at supersonic speeds, and I fleetingly thought about what would happen if we got pulled over.
Surely the officer would understand.
My phone, demanding to be heard, became too distracting to ignore anymore. I sent a text to Aaron telling him I was fine, then turned the damn phone off. I could’ve taken his interest as just plain old concern because no one knew where I was—though it wasn’t any of his business anyway—but I knew it was more than that.
One second Brooks’s strikingly sexy long-fingered hand was on the steering wheel and then the next it was on my knee. There was a moment, a tangible moment, when the atmosphere in the car shifted. The tightly wound spring that had always been in my chest slowly loosened and I felt every brick I ever piled in my wall move aside. But perhaps the best thing that happened in that moment was that my mind quieted.
Nothing and no one was telling me Brooks didn’t want me.
I slid my palm under his, appreciating how smooth my legs felt, then flipped it over so I could slowly, teasingly, achingly pull his knuckles up higher on my thigh. He exhaled and I watched all the tension leave his body. As if his advances would be unwanted. His hand continued to run the length of my thigh over and over and over, and it only made me want more. But all I could do was trace his forearm and bicep with my fingers.
With my newfound confidence, I nudged his hand to the ravine of space my thighs made and placed his fingers dangerously close to the lace hidden under my dress.
He drove even faster.
Until then, I never knew what it felt like to want someone to touch me so badly. Like my parts were made to be enjoyed by his parts and, possibly, his were made for me.
I wanted the first time he kissed me to be special because I knew it would mean something. Everything.
I thought about grabbing his face and kissing him at a red light when we were only a few blocks away from his house. I thought about kissing him when he opened his front door for me and traced his thumb across my bottom lip. I thought about kissing him when he led me up to his room and the idea of being in bed with him was almost too much to handle. But I didn’t.
Not only did I want, but I needed him to kiss me first. He was a perfect man, and if the sexual energy that buzzed off of him told me anything, it was that he knew what he was doing. I could feel his excitement and knew sex with him was mine for the taking, but I wanted more than sex. I wanted the intimacy and he needed to kiss me on the mouth for that to happen.
Only the small lamp on his bedside table was lit, leaving the room mostly dark. What I could see were clean lines and crisp colors, and it was all perfectly Brooks. Of course the giant of a man had a king-sized bed in the middle of his room. I couldn’t wait to feel it. I couldn’t wait to be in his personal space.
After disappearing into what I assumed was the bathroom, he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered in my ear, and if I wasn’t the only person in the room, I never would’ve thought he was talking to me.
The socially awkward soft-spoken guy wearing the weirdest shoes I’d ever seen vanished. While I was attracted to the Brooks I met that first night, this Brooks had all kinds of advantages too.
When I turned to face him, which was hard with him being so much taller than me, he never took his hands from my body. His palms toured my curves, and instead of worrying about him feeling my soft stomach or how my hips were wider than they should’ve been, I wanted him to touch me more.
It hit me then, when I reached up to rest my palms on his chest, how weird life can be. Who would’ve thought the day we met outside in the cold that we’d end up here?
I never imagined I’d be capable of feeling this way about anyone, all ignited and alive, and that was all before our lips even touched.
He pushed the ever-present hair out of my face. Then, while holding my cheeks in his hands, he slowly leaned closer toward me. I knew in only seconds we’d be kissing, and I wanted to remember every detail of the moment.
I wanted to remember how his heavy breathing sounded hypnotic, and how sweet his breath smelled. I wanted to remember how my insides leapt with ecstasy at the anticipation and how his chest thrummed under my fingertips. I wanted to be able to look back when I was a crazy, old, and lonely cat lady and remember exactly what it felt like to have Dr. William Brooks kiss me.
When we finally kissed, it was like coming up for air after having your legs knocked out from under you by an ocean wave. Every part of me felt the kiss; my lips burned, and my skin tingled, and my stomach floated, and my legs buckled.
I was instantly addicted to it—to him. I knew I’d want him every day. He was slow and gentle and it was exactly what I wanted from him. He carefully ran his hands through my hair and down my arms, then my back, as if he was trying to remember too. Or at least that was what I wanted him to do.
Without me really realizing it until after it happened, Brooks scooped me up and carried me to the bed. He softly put me down and got on next to me. I curled into him and hitched my leg up around his waist. When that wasn’t enough, I inched closer until he grabbed my waist and pulled me on top of him. My knees, on either side of his hips, sank deeply into the soft mattress, a complete contrast to his hard body.
Brooks grabbed the back of my neck and not-so-gently pulled me into another kiss. I think it was then that a magnet switched on inside our bodies. It was like we were completely drawn to each other and I could feel not only my attraction to him, but his attraction to me.
We both reached for the hem of my dress but I let him win. The dress came off easily enough, exposing my black, lacy bra and panties. It was hard to believe everything was really happening to me.
My hands had been exploring the planes of his chest through his shirt for long enough and I needed to feel his skin on my skin, so I slowly and purposefully undid the buttons of his shirt. Brooks adopted a relaxed position to watch. God, I loved the feeling of his eyes on me and the control I had over him. When all the buttons were undone and my little show was over, he sat up and crushed my mouth to his as I pulled the rest of his shirt away.
In one smooth motion that led me to believe he’d done it before, he removed my strapless bra. The instant my breasts bounced free, he pressed my chest firmly against his. I wanted him to touch me or finish undressing me, or make love to me right that second, but he just held me so tightly.
“Do you feel that?” he whispered after a few motionless minutes. I was feeling so many things there was no way to determine what he was talking about. “Do you feel my heart?” It was so absolutely quiet and still in the room that I could hear and feel my heart beating. But it wasn’t just my heart, it was too loud for that; it was Brooks’s heart too.
They were beating completely in sync.
“I need to feel you inside me,” I told him in a whisper. My words washed away everything restraining him. He flipped me onto my back and removed both of our remaining articles of clothing so quickly I was convinced he had scissors.
Every doubt, every insecurity, every worry I ever had completely disappeared the second he entered me. His large stature was directly proportionate to how large every other part of him was, but Brooks took the time to let me acclimate to him until the pain fell away and I could only feel intense, blissful pleasure.
“Open your eyes,” he told me in between kisses. “I want to see them.”
I did as he asked. I would’ve done anything he asked of me, but the beauty of that moment was that he didn’t ask for anything except to have me. And with that I gave him everything I had.