Natalie
It takes a moment—maybe five—to dig deep and find the courage to open my mouth.
There’s a voice inside my head that screams for me not to do it. To abort the mission. Once I vomit out the words, there’s no reeling them back in. For better or worse, they’ll be out there.
Ignoring my instincts, I clear my throat. “What you said the other day at the diner…Did you mean it?”
I hold his gaze with a penetrating stare of my own, praying he’ll understand what I’m referring to without me having to explain. Even though it’s just the two of us, it’s still embarrassing. The fact that I’m putting myself out there and asking him for help is difficult enough without coming off as totally pathetic.
“What I said?” He looks confused.
Heat scorches my cheeks, and I drop my gaze, avoiding eye contact. I gulp and push onward. “About my sexual experience being lacking.”
He sits up a little straighter. His voice tightens. “You want to have sex?”
I sputter out a nervous laugh. “No!”
I’m nowhere near that point. Yet.
But now that I’ve had a little time to rethink our conversation, I see the merit of his suggestion to let him give me some bedroom advice. The kiss we just shared certainly proves that if there’s a guy who can offer some assistance, it’s Brody.
“I thought you could…I don’t know,” I mumble, wishing I’d kept my big mouth shut and we were back to kissing. That was easy. This, on the other hand, sucks. “Assess the situation,” I finish in a rush.
Just kill me now before I say something else that will make the situation more unbearable. I can’t stuff the words back into my mouth and pretend I didn’t say them.
They’re out there.
Sitting uncomfortably between us.
It’s Brody’s move to make.
My insides feel like they’ve been twisted into a series of painful little knots. My stomach roils. Any moment, I’m going to be sick.
His fingers slip under my chin and turn my face until I’m able to meet his sharpened gaze. I release a shaky, pent-up breath. One side of his mouth curves, making him look even sexier than he already does. I finally understand what the female population at Whitmore has been talking about. To have all of his attention focused on me is powerful.
I feel it straight down to my core.
“So, what I hear you saying is that you’d like some tips and pointers of a sexual nature from yours truly.”
And just like that, the spell is broken. Which is for the best. It really is. I don’t want to complicate matters between us. Nor do I want to feel anything that might confuse me in regards to the guy who now stares smugly at me.
Feeling like I’m once again back on even footing, I roll my eyes. I should have known he would enjoy this.
“Lessons,” I correct, feeling more like myself. Which is a relief.
“Lessons,” he repeats slowly as if tasting each syllable of the word. A slow smile spreads across his face. Another arrow of desire slices clean through me. “Yeah, I could definitely do that.”
Before I can specify the terms of our arrangement, his lips are back to cruising over mine. Just like before, it doesn’t take much for me to lose myself in the caress.
Brody pulls away enough to meet my gaze. “Lesson number one,” he whispers as his eyes fall to my mouth. “Kissing isn’t just about the lips.”
Duh.
Who doesn’t know that?
With an absurd amount of gentleness—more than I would have imagined possible—he presses his lips to the corners of my mouth. A little sigh escapes as he trails soft, butterfly-like kisses along my jaw and down the column of my neck. When I try to slide my hands into his hair, he pulls away and imprisons my wrists with his fingers.
I meet his gaze with a questioning look of my own. He stretches my arms above my head and lays them against the couch cushions.
“Those stay there. You just relax and enjoy what I’m doing.”
His husky words send a thrill spiraling through me. As Brody trails his fingertips down my arms, goosebumps rise in their wake. The way his hot gaze licks over me feels like a physical caress. Heat explodes in my core and I shift restlessly under him, needing more.
“Do you realize how beautiful you are?”
My pulse kicks.
I quickly remind myself that what’s happening between us isn’t real. This is more of a learning experience. Something to help boost my self-confidence.
While Reed isn’t the last guy I was with, it’s been a while.
All thoughts of my ex disappear when he nips my bottom lip with his teeth, tugging it before releasing. A shiver of pleasure rushes through me. It’s a sexy move. Using his tongue, he rims my mouth. I open for him and, without our lips touching, our tongues mingle in an erotic dance. What he’s doing is exquisite torture.
“Does that turn you on?”
“Yes,” I groan. How could it not?
“Good. It’s important to know what excites you. You can’t be afraid to tell your partner what you like or don’t like.”
His teeth sink gently into my lower lip before he sucks the flesh into his mouth.
When he releases me, I whisper, “I really like that.” The pleasure flooding through me is dizzying.
“Me, too.”
He presses more kisses against my mouth and makes his way to my throat. His warm breath feathers against my flesh, heating me from the inside out and making me feel needy and feverish. I wiggle beneath him, wanting to run my hands over every sculpted slab of muscle. And make no mistake, Brody is all carved strength.
I can’t remember foreplay ever feeling so good. With Reed, it was always hurried as if we were racing toward the finish line. And the two guys after him weren’t any different. No one has ever taken their time to simply explore me.
And that, I’m only now realizing, makes all the difference in the world.
Brody’s mouth drifts toward my chest. I’m wearing a scooped-neck shirt, so he has easy access to my collarbone. His mouth dips to the valley between my breasts, nuzzling the sensitive skin.
When his hands cup my breasts, I nearly levitate off the couch. With careful fingers, he kneads the soft flesh until my nipples are hard little points. His lips hover over one of the tips, his warm breath feathering against me. Lowering his mouth, he gently bites my nipple through the thin material of my shirt. Pleasure tinged with pain floods through me.
“Brody,” I groan, arching my back to get closer.
“You like that?”
“Love it,” I admit on a breathy sigh.
Now that I’ve had a small taste, I’m greedy for more.
The feel of his mouth through my clothes isn’t nearly enough to satiate me. Lust and longing swirl through me and settle in my core. I whimper when he fists the hem of my shirt and shoves it over my breasts, exposing the teal cheetah print bra I’m wearing.
He stares at it for a long moment before his gaze slices to mine. The heat filling his eyes nearly singes me alive.
“Now that’s an unexpected surprise,” he growls with appreciation.
My lips bow up at the corners. “Glad you approve.”
“Oh, I more than approve.” Lowering his head, he scrapes his teeth against the silk covering my breasts.
Unable to control my body’s response, I writhe beneath him, wanting more contact. Wanting to feel his hands and mouth on me.
“As much as I love this bra, it needs to go.”
I couldn’t agree more.
I don’t give myself time to consider the ramifications of my actions. If I did, this episode would come to a screeching halt, and I’m not ready for that to happen.
His fingers delve into the lacy cups and maneuver the soft flesh out of them. I shiver as cool air kisses my naked breasts. Brody strums his thumbs over the hard peaks. Lowering his mouth, he wraps his lips around one turgid point and sucks it deep inside his mouth.
The warmth disappears from one nipple only to descend upon the other. I gasp when he makes contact. Even though he told me not to, I lower my arms and slide my fingers through his thick hair, holding him in place as he draws upon my flesh. It’s as if there is an invisible thread connecting the nipple in his mouth to my core. Every pull of his lips, every stroke of his velvety tongue against the stiff peak, sets off an avalanche of sensation within me.
Just when I can’t stand another moment of his warm mouth, Brody pulls away and stares into my eyes. I imagine that mine look just as dazed and heated as his do.
“I should—”
“Yes!” I practically shout, wanting him to take this further. I’ve never felt this turned-on before. It’s nothing short of a revelation.
“Go,” he finishes lamely.
Wait a minute…what?
He blinks but remains silent.
“You’re leaving?” I whisper dumbly, unable to believe I heard him correctly.
But I must have because he’s already off the couch. The weight of his body, which had felt so delicious moments ago, disappears. He backs away like he just found out I’m contagious. Flummoxed by his abrupt shift in attitude, I stare mutely. I’m still sprawled on the couch cushions. My shirt is shoved against my chin, and my breasts look like two sunny-side up eggs being served on a platter.
With his eyes glued to my tits, he drags a hand over his face. “Yeah. I need to go. Now.”
“But…” I have no idea what happened to make him act like this.
This is the guy known around campus for his one-night stands. The guy who has slept with half the girls at Whitmore. The guy who told me himself that he’s never had a girlfriend and has slept with so many women that he’s lost count.
And he’s the one slamming the brakes and walking out?
He’s got better things to do?
Oh my God, I’m going to die of embarrassment.
Coming to my senses, I slip my bra over my breasts and yank my shirt down before rolling to my feet. Brody stares at me in silence. Before I know what’s happening, he reaches out and pulls me into his arms. His mouth crashes down on mine.
Unlike the kisses he showered on me earlier, this one is demanding. Insistent. When his tongue probes the seam of my lips, I open for him. I might be confused, but I still want him. His tongue claims my mouth, dancing with my own. He pulls my body flush against his hard one. Just when I think he’s changed his mind and will take this further, he rips himself away and holds me at arm’s length.
“I’ve really got to go.”
None of this makes sense. “You do?”
“Yeah.”
He sounds resigned. And I’m not going to beg. As much as I’ve enjoyed what just happened, I refuse to do that.
I blow out a breath and try to regain control of my clamoring hormones. “Okay.”
“I’ll see you later?”
I nod, still feeling muddled.
Brody flicks his finger across the tip of my nose. “And no more avoiding my texts. Got it, wifey?”
Instead of pissing me off, the nickname makes me smile. It diffuses the sexual tension simmering in the charged air between us.
“Got it.”
With one last speculative look, Brody heads for the door. As soon as it closes behind him, I drop back to the couch and bury my face in my hands.
Did that just happen?
Did I really make out with Brody McKinnon?
Yeah, I did. And stranger than that, I can’t wait for it to happen again.