Page 146 of Dirty Like Brody
“Let’s just say you’ll never make a living as a lyricist,” Iteased.
“Right. Well, my point being, you’ve been extremely successful as a model. I know it. You’re beautiful. Like the kind of special beautiful they don’t even have words for. Or at least, I don’t. But I will tell you this. You’re a better writer than you are amodel.”
“Shit, Brody,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck and molding my body to his. “Youdoloveme.”
“Jesus,” he murmured against my lips, “she’s a little slow on theuptake,yeah?”
I smiled and he kissed me, slow and deep. I melted right into that kiss, into the taste of him, as his warmth enveloped me. As always, I got the feeling he was claiming me with his kiss; that I was his. Always would be… alwayshadbeen.
“You still haven’t told me,” he murmured againstmylips.
“Toldyouwhat?”
“What Iwannahear.”
“And what do you wanttohear?”
“Move in with me,” he said between kisses. “I want you here. Need you here…always.”
I held him tighter, pushing back against the reactive fear. “What happens if I say yes?” Iwhispered.
Because I really, really wanted tosayyes.
“We celebrate,” he said, walking me backwards across the room, “by breaking in your new furniture.” Then he laid me down on the couch, laying himself right on top of me. I loved the feel of him; his weight crushing me, forcing out everything else, even the breath from my lungs… everything but him. His strength, his warmth, his manly-woodsy smell. “Then we go back downstairs and call it a moving-inparty,yeah?”
“Yeah. I like the soundofthat.”
He did too, apparently, because he had my jeans off in record time. “Jesus, you still wearing panties, princess? When are we gonna break you of thishabit?”
I laughed and squealed a weak protest as he tore them off. I stopped laughing as he kissed his way up my thigh, wrapped my legs around his hips and smoothed the head of his cock against my pussy. I writhed in response, wrapping my arms aroundhisneck.
“You sure about this?” I asked him as he filled me, gasping as I adjusted to the sensation—the fullness and the slight shock of it, followed by that familiar rush of heat and purepleasure.
“What? Why?” His eyes found mine, a little dazed as the pleasure took himover,too.
“I own alotofclothes.”
“Okay,” he breathed, but I was pretty sure his brain had left the building as he started screwing me slowly against thecouch.
“We’ll have to ship them up from my place in New York,” I said as he kissed his way down my neck, and my body flooded in a wave of sensation… a tingling, buzzing warmth that shot to the tips of my nipples, the tips ofmytoes.
No man had ever made me feel like this. Thisalive…
Thisloved.
“No problem,” he said, losing himself in kisses on my skin. “You smell likeheaven…”
“And I have some stuff down in L.A. that I’ll needtoget…”
He flickered his tongue over my grateful nipple and I momentarily forgot what I was saying. I arched beneath him, strung tight,wantingmore.
“Cool…” he mumbled. “Jesus, you tastelikesex…”
“And… over at mybrother’s.”
“Uh-huh.”
“AndRoni’s.”
