The way he was baring himself, leaving himself open, vulnerable—it sent me reeling. He was ready for us. And lord knew I was ready, too. The fact that this was happening, something I’d waited for, that I’d wanted for months, and to know he felt the same way, too…it made me dizzy.
My heart crashed against my chest in a rhythmic chant of his name. Brogan. Brogan. Brogan. I arched my back, pressing into him, my chest brushing against his. I couldn’t get close enough. Needed to get closer.
I made deft work of the buttons on his shirt, and in a matter of moments it lay pooled on the floor. I took my time, studying him. The massive shoulders that filled out his suits so nicely. The dip and swell of muscles taught under lean flesh. The dark ink against tanned skin. Brogan was better than a fantasy.
My fingers raked across his inked chest, down his abs, along the V of his waist. He shuddered under my touch and closed his eyes. I did this to him. The rule-maker broke all his rules for me. And that meant everything.
His brown eyes darkened, and his tongue ran across his lips as he edged his hands along the hem of my shirt. He cocked his head, asking silent permission.
Yes. So. Much. Yes.
I lifted my hands up in response, and he tore my shirt off, throwing it on top of his own.
He let out a low groan as his eyes made an appreciative perusal. “You know what I’m thinking about in all those meetings and phone conferences? What I think about in the shower and my bed—every goddamn second of the day?” he growled. His voice vibrated through my chest, stirring up everything inside me, all the pieces aflutter like the flecks of a shaken snow globe.
“What?” My voice was barely a whisper.
“You, Lainey. All I can think about is you.” He pushed me harder against the wall. “I can’t get you off my mind.” His hands cupped the backs of my thighs, and he pulled me up, my legs wrapping around his waist. God, at this moment I’d give this man anything he wanted. Anything. He asked, it was his. I wanted to lose myself in him, for him to show me exactly what he meant by his words.
“Looks like we have the same problem.” My hands scraped along the tight muscles of his back.
He pulled away and looked at me. I mean really looked at me, hitting a point so deep, I’d never come out of this unscathed. “You are not a problem to be solved, Lainey.” His eyes held so much intensity they robbed the breath out of my chest. “You are the answer to my fucking prayers.”
His mouth crashed against mine, unrelenting, as he carried me to his bedroom.
…
A slash of sunlight cut through the curtains at approximately a quarter till way too early. I groaned and turned to my other side, and came face to face with Brogan. His eyes opened lazily, flecks of gold glistening in his brown irises. He smiled and wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer. “Morning, beautiful.”
Being cocooned in his arms, in the warmth of his body, the scent of his intoxicating mint body wash…everything made me melt into him and never want to come up for air. What we shared last night, felt like we traded a piece of our souls, a connection I’d never experienced with any other guy before. “Morning,” I said softly, still letting the moment wrap around me like a warm blanket.
“What do you want to do today?” I asked.
He took a deep breath, and his heated gaze raked over me while his hand disappeared under the covers. “You.”
Well, then. A round four? Praise all that was holy, because Brogan was a god in and out of the boardroom. His fingers found their way to the space between my thighs, and I knocked my head back against the pillow, savoring his touch. I could definitely get behind spending an entire day in bed with Brogan.
Unfortunately, Bruce had other plans. He let out a loud fart and began to whine from the end of the bed.
I buried myself under the covers as the smell began to waft my way.
“Bruce, you really know how to ruin a moment, buddy,” Brogan said. He joined me underneath the covers, and his smile softened. He ran his hand along the curve of my hip and said, “Now where was I?”
I pressed my forehead to his, and my fingers traced the stubble on his chin. “I believe you were about to kiss me again.”
“Ah. I think you’re right.”
His lips brushed mine, and I melted into him. His hands gripped my hips and he rolled me over so that I was straddling him. It was apparent through the thin material of his boxer briefs that he was up for round four. I ground against him, and he let out a low growl, roughly cupping my ass.
“I wish I could wake up every morning like this,” he murmured into my ear.
I deepened our kiss, my tongue sweeping past his lips, putting every bit of myself into this. The sensation of falling without knowing if there was anything below to catch me crashed over me like a wave. It stole my breath, every sensible thought, until the only words coursing through my mind were need, want, must have. Brogan wasn’t something that I could consider a luxury anymore, he was a necessity.