Whoops.
I start down the hallway when Brooke opens the door in a loose tank and shorts, her nipples hard beneath the thin layer of black fabric.
“Just because I'm stripping tonight doesn't give you the right to peep at me naked, okay?”
“Of course it doesn't,” I say as I glance over my shoulder and wrinkle my nose. “I just didn't expect you to come charging out of there with your towel flapping. It's my bad, sorry.”
She watches me for a minute and then sweeps her fingers through the tousled wet hair on top of her head. With a deep breath, Brooke moves down the hallway with softly padding steps as I turn to look at her. She pauses in front of me for a moment and then lifts her arms up and puts them around my neck, lifting her mouth to mine and sliding her tongue between my lips.
I have, like, literally no idea what's happening.
But I also suck at turning down pretty girls.
“You do this a lot, right?” Brooke asks as she pulls back a fraction. I cock a pierced brow.
“Huh?” I know I should push her away, demand an explanation or something, but … I only have so much self-control. “What do you mean?”
“Casual sex. You do this a lot, don't you? So you should be good at it.”
“Uh, this is kind of my thing. I don't mean to brag or anything, but … I'm hella boss at sex.”
“Good.”
Brooke pushes her lips against mine, searing heat into my mouth as we stumble back and I push her into the wall, dropping my palms to the boring beige walls on either side of her head. Wet hair tickles my face as we slant our mouths together, tongues slick and hot, chasing the ember of heat in my blood into a fucking bonfire.
Oh, hell yes.
This is wrong on so many levels, but she came onto me. I'm pretty much helpless to resist.
Brooke's nails dig into my skin and I feel the sharp bite of pain morph into pleasure, channeling a line straight down into my cock. I got diamond in my jeans, baby. Holy Christ.
I push my body harder into Brooke's and she groans, opening up to me, letting me slip a leg between her thighs. Without any prompting, I feel her grind her body against the leg of my jeans, pressing hard as she rocks her hips in a frantic rhythm.
In the back of my mind, I wonder where the hell this came from, but I don't really give two craps. I haven't had sex in a week, haven't even gotten the chance to touch myself. My balls are tight and they hurt, and fuck, this girl is smokin' hot.
“Bedroom?” I mouth against her lips. There's no way I'm taking some chick's virginity up against a wall like this. No way. That's too messed up. If I'm going to run with this, I'm going to do a good job at it.
“Mmm,” Brooke moans, gasping as I pull my leg away and cup her heat with my hand, feeling a dampness in the crotch of her shorts that has nothing to do with the shower she just took.
“You absolutely positive you want to do this?” I ask and she nods, letting me cup the side of her face with my hand. “This isn't just a moment of panic that you'll regret in the morning?”
“I think if I don't do this, I'll regret it in the morning.” Brooke takes a deep breath and sweeps long hair back over her shoulders. “Listen, I was with this one guy for three years. He said that … well, he wanted us to save our virginities for our wedding night.”
I cock a brow at that one. Huh. I saved my virginity for my best friend's older sister, waited until I was fifteen years old. Pretty proud of myself for that one.
“Anyway, my point is, I've been holding off on this for all the right reasons.” A pause as she looks down the hallway and then back at my face. If she's thinking what I'm thinking, then she knows we have just about an hour before we have to start picking up kiddies.
A tight timeline to ease someone out of their virginity, but I'll manage.
“So why not do this for the wrong ones? Please. I know you don't know me, but that doesn't even really matter, does it?” Brooke makes eye contact with me and holds my gaze. I can see her, but it's like everything is hazy, like there's a film over my vision that's obscured by lust. I want her so bad, I can barely breathe. “Please.”
Come on. Those big brown Bambi eyes, those hot swollen lips (both sets), the way her chest is rising and falling with a strained need.
I just can't say no to any of that.
“Come on.” I reach down and take Brooke's wrist, pulling her into the bedroom and popping the baby monitor out of my pocket, setting it on a dresser so I'll be able to hear if Sadie wakes up. God, I hope not.