Page 41 of Dirty Like Brody
I turned to look her right in her brown eyes—and I knew I was lying to myself. Fucking right, I wanted her to apologize. I wanted her to get down on her knees, suck my cock, and tell me,I’m sorry, Brody. I never should’ve left. It was the worst mistake I’ve ever made. Please tell me what I can do to make it uptoyou…
Yeah.Right.
“I was angry about that,” I told her. “I’m notanymore.”
“You’ve been angry with me for years,” she whispered. Then she put her hand on me. Laid it right on my bare skin, on my bicep; just like she fuckingownedme.
I froze, every muscle in my body going rigid. Yeah, even in my cock, since all my blood was pumping there post-haste.
What the fuck did she think she wasdoing?
Touching me, just like she used to touch me, like no time had passed at all… like she could walk out the door, never look back, not even speak to me foryears… and then she’s right here, in my face, her fucking hand on me, and nothing hadchanged.
Because nothinghadchanged.
I still wanted her. Whether I wanted to accept that or not, my cock was making it pretty fucking clear. And Jessa? She was still pushing the same oldbullshit.
“Get your fucking hand off me.” I said it as coldly as I could, even as my bloodranhot.
She didn’t flinch. She didn’t snatch her hand back and run away like I expected her to. She just stared at me with her big brown eyes. This close, I could see all the colors in them. Hazel,green,gold.
“Take your hand away, Jessa,” I said, my voice dropping low, getting gravelly as the walls of my throat got thick; too thick to breathe right. I leaned in a bit but she didn’t remove her hand, just tightened her fingers, her nails digging into my tattoos. “Is that what you want?” I stepped into her space and she backed up, but she didn’t let go. “You want what you never got?” I backed her right up against the counter and slammed my hips against hers, my body working on autopilot. “Yeah,” I said, searching her face. Her eyes were softening and she swallowed, hard. “I can giveyouthat.”
I could. If my dick was all she’d ever really wanted from me, she could have at it. If that was all this was ever about, maybe I should’ve thrown any gallant gestures bullshit out the window long ago and just given ittoher.
I lifted her, shoving her up on the edge of the sink. She didn’t fight me. Her arms went around me and the blanket fell open. I ripped it aside and shoved myself between her bare thighs. Then I pulled her to me, holding her on the edge of the counter in her underwear—still damp and clinging to her and totally fucking see-through.
I leaned in to kiss her, but I didn’t. I pressed my forehead to hers and waited for her to cometome.
Shedid.
She smashed her mouth to mine. As I kissed her back she moaned, opening for me, and then I was inside her—my tongue stabbing deep into her mouth. Her nails dug into the back of my neck as she pulled me in. She sucked on my tongue and my brains pretty much fell out of my head. Her legs were tangled up around my waist and as we kissed, hot, frantic and messy, finding a wet, greedy rhythm, she started rubbing herself against the crotch of my jeans… and Ilostit.
I grabbed her hips and ground the length of my throbbing cock against her clit, slowly, then started fucking it against her… like I could dry-hump her right into submission. She whimpered as her thighs fell open… as I rammed my cock against her again and again. She looked like she was on the brink of an Earth-shattering orgasm as her head fell back, her mouth open. A flush was creeping up her chest. Her tits were swollen in her bra, her nipples hard. And her pussy? Even through my jeans I could feel her, soft and swollen and needy; hungryforme.
“D’you… have a condom?” she rasped out, her gaze meeting mine… and the look in her glassy eyes was like an ice-cold vise onmydick.
What the fuck was Idoing?
No, I didn’t have a condom. And no, I wasn’t gonna fuck her on the bathroom sink while she was wasted. Because then what? She’d be on a plane, and thanks for the fuckingmemories?
I stopped dry-humping her long enough to force out, “I can’t. Jessa… it can’t belikethis.”
“Okay,” shepantedback.
“It can’t be like it was,either.”
“Iknow.”
Then she kissed me again and I dove rightbackin.
Harder than before, faster, deeper, my head spinning with hunger, because it wasJessaand I had no self-control left when it came to her. I’d burned it out over the last God-knew-how-many years, wanting her, chasing her, waiting for her, trying to hate her, trying like hell to get over her and failing… jerking myself raw just wishing I had her… going goddamn insanewithouther.
“Jesus, Jessa.” I tore my mouth away from hers. “It’s been seven years. Youcan’t—”
“Six-and-a-half.”
I shook my head as I fought to catch my breath. “You can’t do this shittome.”
