My face flushed, but I lifted my rear when he tugged again and watched him rock back as he drew the pants down my leg. I had this horrible habit of not wearing undies when I was home and in leggings or yoga pants.
They ended up somewhere behind him.
And then he was staring at me, staring at the most intimate and private part of me. The look of stark hunger on his face stole my breath. Any thought of stopping him had dive-bombed out the nearby window.
“You’re beautiful,” he said in a rough voice, and the way he said it made me believe he truly meant it. “So fucking beautiful.”
My heart slammed in my chest as his hands ran up the outside of my calves and then crossed over at my knees, slipping along the insides of my thighs. He stopped just before the crease between my hip and thigh, gently easing my legs apart. Cool air brushed over me, and my breath caught. Instinct demanded that I close my legs, but his heated gaze locked onto mine.
“I need to do this.” His voice rumbled through me. “It’s all I need right now.”
Drawing in a shallow, stuttered breath, I relaxed.
The promise in his gaze said I wouldn’t regret the decision. His head dipped as he kissed the space below my navel, and then he dropped lower, settling his broad shoulders between my legs, spreading me wider.
I couldn’t swallow or breathe as his lips moved against the inside of my thigh, leaving a wet path upward, closer and closer to where I throbbed. My hands flattened against the carpet. The hair on his jaw scratched my skin in the most amazing way.
“So damn beautiful,” he murmured.
Completely exposed to his gaze, I trembled as his hand slid over my pelvic bone and dipped down. This was nothing like what we did in my dark living room. I’d done this before. Twice. It really hadn’t done a thing for me, and I had never been able to understand why some women were so into it, but the intense way he focused on me without even having touched me there yet had already surpassed my past experiences.
He licked his lower lip as he looked up, his gaze piercing mine. “Do you trust me, Jillian?”
Oh God, my heart swelled in my chest so fast and so big it felt like I was going to float right off the floor. “Yes.”
Brock smiled at me and then he was on me. That was it. No warning. No fooling around. His mouth was on me, and the contact jerked my body. My back nearly came clear off the floor as heat flooded my veins.
His tongue dipped in, and the way he kissed me there was hot and wet and deep and shattering. His tongue moved like he’d kissed me earlier, slipping in and out until my head fell back, and I couldn’t watch him anymore.
I reached down, threading my fingers through his hair with one hand. He growled against me as my grip tightened. “Oh God.”
Raw and primal sensations pounded through me as my hips moved, meeting the strokes of his tongue, and when he stopped, I cried out in dismay.
Brock chuckled, and then I let out a strangled moan, because his mouth closed around the tight bundle of nerves as he worked a finger through the wetness and deep inside me.
“God,” I gasped out, incapable of saying anything else as I tugged at his hair.
My brain checked out as my body took over. I was rocking against his finger and mouth, and when he slipped in another finger, filling me even more, I started panting and making these sounds, these tiny moans I’d never, ever made in my entire life—sounds I would’ve normally been embarrassed over but not now. There was no room for embarrassment or thoughts or our past.
There was nothing but what he was doing in me, stirring and building inside me. There was just his mouth and his fingers, and the way my body rocked and moved. Passion burned through me, igniting a spark that quickly grew into a flame as he went deeper and faster.
I burned—burned for him in a way I never had when I was younger. Oh no, what I was feeling now was beyond anything I’d ever imagined.
“Brock,” I breathed.
God, he was unbelievably good at this.
My body was coiling tight and my eyes flew open. My other hand flung out blindly, smacking into the side of the small bed. Brock made that sound again, that deep growl, and it threw me right over the edge. Crying out as every muscle in my body tensed and then released. Brutal pleasure poured through me, liquefying bone and tissue. I was lost to the storm of pulsing and throbbing.
Unable to move much and beyond sated, my arms flopped to my sides as I watched Brock lift his head from between my thighs. A fully male, smug smile graced that beautiful, talented mouth of his.
I gasped as he slowly withdrew his fingers from me and brought one to his mouth. He licked his finger.
Oh my good God.
Breathing pitched, my eyes widened. He was . . . there were no words. None.
Brock rose, prowling up the length of my body and planting one hand beside my head. His lips glistened. “So I’m driving us home for Thanksgiving, right?”
I couldn’t help it. A grin tugged at my lips and I laughed softly. How could I say no after that? “Yeah, you’re driving us home.”
Chapter 24
There was a small part of me—okay, that wasn’t true. There was a rather large part of me that wondered how things would be at work. Would Brock act like nothing had changed between us, or would he have no problem with public displays of all kinds of things? I had no idea if he wanted our relationship known to our coworkers.
Then again, I had no idea if we were in a relationship. Just because he went down on me, giving me the most amazing orgasm I’d ever experienced in my entire life, and told me he wanted me didn’t necessarily mean we were officially doing the boyfriend/girlfriend thing.