Page 80 of Unfinished
I leave him sputtering at the island to go to Brooke’s side. Leaning down, I brush her hair back on one side and lean into that ear. “You want to go?”
“Yes, please.” The words are barely a whisper, confirming my fears.
“We need to go let the puppy out.” I take Brooke’s hand in mine, tugging her up from the chair. “Let me know when plans are finalized.”
I don’t wait for anyone to respond. Brooke’s skin is paling and her eyes are starting to look glassy, so I need to get her out of here. Before she falls into another panic attack.
Taking her straight to the side-by-side, I quickly buckle her in and drive her home. I don’t say anything until we’re inside and she’s got Bruno cuddled in her arms.
“You don’t have to go to the wedding.” It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what upset her. “Everyone will understand.”
Brooke gives Bruno a few more pets before crouching to set him back on the floor so he can eat his dinner. She straightens, taking a deep breath that lifts her shoulders. “I’m going to the wedding.” She shakes her head. “I’m not letting Matt keep me from supporting my friend on one of the most important days of her life.”
Taking in the jut of her chin and the square of her shoulders, I feel an amount of pride that makes my chest ache. She’s working so hard to break free from all the bullshit trying to hold her down. Even in the face of a frivolous lawsuit. Even though she’ll likely never have a relationship with her parents again. Brooke is determined to attend an event that will probably dredge up awful memories.
Because that’s who she is.
A lot has changed about her over the years. She’s not as quick to tease me as she used to be. There’s less sarcasm. Less joking. But at the end of the day, she’s still the same at her core. She’s still the selfless woman I missed for almost a decade. Still the driven woman willing to put in the work. Her eyes still sparkle when she’s about to say something funny.
It’s making me realize I don’t just still love her.
I love her all over again.
All these years I longed for what I’d already had, thinking reclaiming what I lost was the goal. It never occurred to me that might not be possible. That Brooke and I might have both changed while we were apart. That we could have become two different pieces that would never fit back together.
And thank God it didn’t, because I thought I knew what hopelessness felt like, and I can now say I obviously didn’t.Hopelessness would have been waiting all this time only to find out it didn’t matter what I did or how much I grew. I would never have all the things I longed for.
I move toward Brooke, driven by the uncontrollable urge to show her how grateful I am for the way things turned out. For the way she turned out.
It’s so easy to pull her close, drag her body against mine. Being with her is familiar but new at the same time. Comfortable but exciting. A contrast of emotions that somehow work together perfectly.
When her hands come to my body, there’s urgency in her touch. A need that matches the one coursing through my own veins.
My movements become frantic as I grab at her clothes and mine, managing to get her shirt open and my pants undone before losing interest in the task and picking her up, taking her to the closest surface and dropping her down.
Brooke’s ass hits the stool where she sat when I first made her dinner. Where I took care of her when she was sick. The stool that belonged to her before she even knew it existed.
I shove at the skinny skirt she wore to work, pushing the fabric up to her waist before dragging down her panties. Getting them any farther is going to take too much time, so I leave them tangled at her knees, twisting my hand in the satiny fabric. Using my grip to keep her legs up, I line my body with hers, and sink deep.
She feels so good around me that I’m already fighting the need to come. The urge to fill her so full it will run down her thighs when she stands up. To witness part of me marking her.
The need is primal. Uncontrollable. Unignorable.
When she leans back, eyes falling closed, a rumble of displeasure rolls through my chest.
“Eyes on me, Brooklyn Marie.” My next thrust is hard, punctuating the demand. “I want you right here with me.”
Brooke’s lids lift, revealing blown pupils as she meets my gaze.
I bring my free hand to her chin, holding it as I stare in her eyes. “Good girl.”
She sucks in a breath, pussy clenching tight around me.
I drag my hand from her chin, down the center of her chest. “Do you like that? You like hearing how good you are?”
“Yes.” She gasps the word, back arching just a little as I adjust my angle, trying to hit that perfect spot.
I tuck my chin, looking between our bodies as my hand continues its downward path, passing the slight swell of her belly and the bunch of her skirt before stopping at her mound. I press down on the spot just above her pubic bone as I settle my thumb against her clit. “Look how well you take me.” I bring my eyes back to hers. “Watch me fuck you. Watch how pretty your pussy looks taking my cock.”
