“I could have, but I really want to know if you’d pick a vibrator as one of your three items.”
“You think if I was going to be stranded on an island and I could only bring three things, I’d bring a vibrator?”
“Guess I’m kind of hoping you would.”
“Don’t think that would be on my short list.”
“What would be?”
“I don’t know. Off the top of my head? Matches, water and a fishing net.”
“Smart choices. I’m disappointed. But at least you won’t starve.”
“Your questions are bizarre, you know that, right?”
“Maybe. But your answer just told me a lot about you. Like I just learned you’re practical. You know you can get yourself off with your hand, so you won’t waste one of your three things on an unnecessary toy.” He tapped his finger to his temple and grinned. “Good thinking.”
“Let me ask you something. If we eventually have sex—”
Brody interrupted. “If?”
“When. When, you know…”
“I fuck you…”
“Yes, that. Will you stop talking about sex so much afterward?”
He leaned forward. “Not a fucking chance. I’m gonna bet that once I’m inside of you, it’s only going to get worse.”
“Okay then.” God, it’s warm in here. I needed to change the subject, or this date was going to end very soon. Taking a cue from Brody, I asked, “If you could have your pick of any Disney princess, which one would it be?”
Brody smiled. “Nice. Let me think about that one.”
He was quiet for a moment, then surprised me. He was taking my question seriously. “Definitely not Sleeping Beauty. She lies around sleeping all day, waiting for some shmuck wearing tights to come kiss her.”
“That’s not exactly how I would have summed her up. But, okay . . . continue.”
He rubbed his chin. “Snow White’s voice would annoy the shit out of me. Plus, I’m six-two, and she’s into short guys.” He paused. “I’m not sure I know any other princesses. Wait. No. That chick from Aladdin is hot. Or the Little Mermaid. But can a mermaid spread her legs? And is she even a princess?”
The rest of the evening continued the same way. We asked each other ridiculous questions, and the answers actually revealed a lot about each other. I started to think maybe I should throw one oddball question into my interviews from now on. After Brody had paid the bill, we waited outside for the valet to bring his car around. There was a crowd of people talking, and I noticed he steered us away from them and turned his back so as not to call attention to himself.
“Favorite position?” he asked.
Easy. “Quarterback, of course. I’m a daddy’s girl.”
He leaned in, whispering in my ear. “I meant favorite position naked.”
“Oh.” Oh!
He was actually waiting for a response. “I’m not sure. Never really gave it any thought.” I swallowed. “What about you?”
He took my hands in his and brought them together behind my back. Capturing both my wrists in one of his large hands, his other lifted to my face and brushed a lock of hair from my cheek. “On top. Doesn’t even matter how. I’ve just had an ache to be on top of you since the day we met. As much as I’d love to watch you ride me, I think on top is what I’ll like best with you. And probably missionary. Because for some reason, there’s nothing more I want to do than watch your face as I sink deep inside of you.”
It wasn’t the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to me, yet I felt it everywhere, even in my chest. “Jesus, Brody.”
He brushed his lips against mine. “Our museum trip is going to be a quick one.”
The tenderness of his touch, combined with the rawness of his words, left me with a yearning I’d never experienced before. I leaned in, our mouths again lightly joining, and let my words vibrate against our lips. “Let’s skip the museum.”
***
When we pulled up to the hotel that was his football-season home, Brody waved off the valet and jogged around to the passenger side of the car. He extended his hand to help me out.
“In for the night, Mr. Easton?”
He laced our fingers together and pulled me toward the door, responding over his shoulder without stopping. “I may never come back out.”
My breath quickened as the elevator neared the top floor. We weren’t alone in the car, yet the only thing I could smell or hear was Brody. I watched his chest rise and fall in the reflection on the shiny silver doors, and my breaths began to match his. He was standing behind me, and I could feel his every breath. I didn’t try to fit my breathing into his pattern, my body just naturally joined in with his. It wasn’t going to be the only rhythm that came to us innately; there was no doubt of that. Raw sexual chemistry had been running like a current between us since the first day we met.