“Do you know me?”
“Better than you know yourself, I think.” I pushed his messy hair away from his eyes and cupped the side of his face. “You’re so locked up in the things you did that you won’t let yourself focus on the things you do. Trust me, I know all that. When I came back, I was so focused on who I thought you were that I didn’t really let myself see who you are. You’re so wrapped up in all that stuff that happened, god, over a year ago.”
“Why don’t you care about it?”
“I didn’t say I don’t care about it.” I let my hand fall from his face. “But you have to understand something, Brett. For all the things you’ve done wrong, you’ve done so many more right. Hope House wouldn’t be open without you. Those kids wouldn’t get the happiness of a birthday present without you. Christmas wouldn’t exist for them. There wouldn’t be any hope in Hope Building if you didn’t take it with you every time you walked through its doors.”
He didn’t move.
I moved our glasses to the back of the table and perched on the edge of it. I stretched my legs out to the side as best I could thanks to the restrictive dress, but sitting here meant I could be closer to Brett.
“Your mistakes don’t define you. What you do about them and how you right your wrongs does.” I touched my thumb to his jaw. “And anyone who decides to define who you are as a person based on the things you’ve done wrong isn’t somebody you want in your life.”
“But the tape...”
“You weren’t the bad person.” I took his face in my hands, gently stroking my thumbs across his cheeks. “She was. Whether you agreed or not. She probably had it planned from the start and there was nothing you could do about that.”
He looked into my eyes. I didn’t know if he was trying to line up what I was saying with what he’d made himself out to be inside his head or what, but if tonight had shown me anything, it was that the Brett Walker he portrayed was nothing at all like the man he really was.
More to it—he cared. He cared about what other people thought of him.
I leaned forward and kissed him. He rested his hands on my knees, slowly sliding them up my thighs as my hands dropped down to his bare chest.
“You don’t need to make me fall in love with you,” I whispered. “I’m already there. But it’s not because of what you do. It’s because of who you are. Who you really are.” I opened my eyes and looked right into his. “The person I know you are. Who cares and tries and helps everyone he can. Who does good things and hides them because what he’s doing is more than the recognition he’d get. You’re not a bad person. Not at all.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
BRETT
I knew she was right, but that didn’t mean I was completely sure of it. Maybe my mistakes didn’t define me, but the person I put out into the world sure as shit did. My attitude, my deliberate actions, my words, all those things defined me because I allowed them to.
I knew what I was doing. I knew I’d been a terrible person.
Until she came back.
She was the only person who cared enough to rip past all that bullshit and look for the guy I’d buried. The guy who loved her.
“If I’m not a bad person,” I said, looking into her big, brown eyes, “Then what am I?”
Her soft, red lips curved at the edges. “I think you’re just a little lost.”
A small laugh escaped between my lips. My skin tingled as I wrapped my hand around the back of her neck and pulled her face even closer to mine—so close that my forehead pressed against hers. “Then I’m really glad you found me.”
Lani laughed, her fingertips trailing across my stomach. “You’re easy to find. You’re pretty loud.”
“This from the screamer in bed.”
“I didn’t scream, and it was against a door. It doesn’t count.”
“Totally counts. There was screaming in there.”
“You’ve perked up.”
I grinned. “I have a really good view down your dress from here. Thank god you removed the tape, because now I can do this.” I released her and hooked a finger through each of the straps that sat on her shoulders. I pulled them down onto her upper arms, my fingers trailing against her skin.
She shuddered. “What are you doing?”
“Exactly what I promised I’d do earlier,” I said as the fabric strained against her breasts. “Getting you out of this dress.” I pulled the straps down far enough that the fabric finally rolled over her chest, freeing her tits. Her nipples were hard and pointed, and the simple sight of them sent blood rushing to my cock.
Temptation rose inside me. I wanted to taste her, to take her hard, pink nipple in my mouth and see how easily I could turn her on. I wanted to explore her properly, learn the tender parts of her body and learn what drove her wild.
I wanted to learn all the things that would make her lose control.
So I did it.
I dipped my head right forward and closed my mouth around her nipple. She gasped as I did it, lifting her arms out of the straps of her dress. I felt how the material pooled at her waist as I lifted my hand and cupped her firm breast. She had the most gorgeous fucking tits, and I wanted to kiss and feel and suck every inch of them until she begged me to stop.
Hell, I’d probably fucking carry on even then. I’d keep going until I was done, until I felt like I knew her body, and she was exhausted.
And I already wanted to do it all over again.
I turned my attention to her other breast, and it didn’t take long for her breathing to pick up. She pressed one hand against the top of the table and leaned back as if she were trying to escape, but I flattened a hand against her back and held her closer to me.
“What if someone comes in?” she breathed.
I kissed my way up to her collarbone. “Our room for tonight.”
“The other balconies?”
“Empty.” I kissed the corner of her mouth and reached around her. After I moved the glasses, I pushed her down onto her back and kissed her properly.
Lani pushed her hands into my hair. Her body flexed beneath mine, and her heavier than usual breathing meant her nipples brushed across my chest teasingly every time she breathed in.
I knew her mouth. I knew how she kissed. Knew how she tasted. Knew what she liked.
It was every other part of her I didn’t know. Every other part I wanted to know.
I shrugged off my shirt at her wandering hands’ insistence, barely moving away from her.
She looked at me with flushed cheeks. “Why am I lying on the table?”
“I’ve got plans for you.” I flashed her a grin before I kissed my way down her neck. Once again, I teased my way across her breasts thanks to my tongue on her nipples.
She breathed harder and harder. Her legs clenched and she squirmed, then whispered, “Brett.”
I smiled and looked up her body, my tongue still circling her nipple. Her eyes were already glassy, her lips parted, cheeks flushed. She looked like she was seconds from an orgasm, but I knew better. I knew it would take more than just that to make her come properly.