“Yeah.” He glanced over at me. “Figured it was better that way. Didn’t want to ruin your holidays.”
Half of me felt bad, because Brock was a part of our family, and I felt like I might’ve robbed him of that. The other half didn’t feel bad at all. I wasn’t sure what that said about me.
“Anyway, we never really did a lot of the Christmas stuff at our place or even when we lived separately.” He easily secured the star to the top while it would’ve taken me well over an hour and would’ve involved a lot of F-bombs. “We never did this. Not once.”
“Really?” Surprise flickered through me. “That sounds . . . I don’t even know how that sounds.”
A wry grin appeared on his lips. “Doesn’t matter how it sounds.”
I stood there for a moment and realized he was right. Hanging the tinsel, I was careful not to step on Rhage’s tail.
“You going to miss me when I leave on Wednesday?” he asked, stepping back to allow me to get the tinsel wrapped around the tree.
“Maybe,” I said, tucking the edge of the tinsel back into the branch. Brock was going to be at the Philly branch with some new recruits my father wanted him to look at. He was supposed to come back Saturday afternoon. Straightening, I took a step back and admired the tree—our tree. “It’s so pretty.”
“I think I’ve found something prettier.” He wrapped his arm around my waist, drawing me back against his chest. “And I’m also kind of offended that you said maybe.”
Resting my hands on his forearms, I laughed. “Didn’t realize you were so sensitive.”
“I am.” He shifted his head, causing me to gasp as his rough jaw dragged along my neck. He nuzzled the skin there. “I need my ego stroked.”
Emboldened by his touch, I lowered a hand and reached behind me. My fingers roamed over the line of his zipper. My cheeks heated as I said, “Something else need to be stroked too?”
Brock’s deep, husky chuckle sent shivers down my spine. “That always needs stroking.”
“Is that so?” I bit down on my lip as I felt him harden against my hand.
He pushed his hips against me. “Mmm.”
Hiding a grin, I slipped free and turned around, facing him. The way he stared at me, his jaw clenched and his eyes so dark they were nearly black, made me weak in the knees. My heart started pounding in my chest. I took another step back.
“Now where do you think you’re going?” he asked.
I raised a shoulder. “I think I might get a piece of that pumpkin pie in the fridge.”
Brock held my gaze as he slowly shook his head. “I’m thinking I want to have dessert now.”
“You want a slice, too?”
“Yeah. I want a slice.”
He moved so incredibly fast and was standing in front of me within a heartbeat. Before I could even process what he was doing, he dipped and had an arm under my legs. In a blink of an eye, I was up in the air and my stomach was coming down on his shoulder.
A wild-sounding laugh escaped me as he turned and started walking back toward the bedroom, leaving the softness of the twinkling Christmas lights. “This was not the kind of slice I was talking about.”
“You sure about that?” His hand came down on my behind, causing me to shriek. “You liked that.”
I did.
I really did.
Hair swinging in my face, I barely caught my breath by the time he placed me on my feet. Then his hands were all over me, stripping my sweater and leggings off at record-breaking speeds. Then the bra was gone, along with the undies, and I was completely nude, standing in front of him. Desire swirled inside me as I stared at him, leaving me feeling out of control and dazed. Thick tendrils of lust mingled with the raw heat as he reached behind him and curled his fingers along the collar of his thermal, tugging it over his head and off.
His body . . .
I could seriously drool over it.
Brock stepped into me, thrusting his muscled thigh between mine, and I lifted my hands, placing them on his chest. I marveled at the hard planes, over the abs that dipped and rippled.
He didn’t kiss me.
His mouth went much lower, closing around the tip of my breast. His tongue rasped over my nipple. All thought fled as he tugged on my breast. My head fell back as raw, exquisite sensations zipped through my veins.
“This is the kind of dessert I want every night,” he said in a smoky, thick voice as he lowered his hand to my hip, urging me to move.
My lips parted on a sharp inhale and then I cried out as his teeth caught my nipple in a delicious little bite. He didn’t need to guide me. My hips rolled and rocked against his thigh. Tension quickly built, and I wondered if I’d come this way. It was quite possible.
But then we were moving. One arm circled my waist and he lifted me up, placing me down on the bed. His lips were hot against my neck and I wanted those lips on mine. My fingers sunk deep into his hair and I tugged his head up to mine. The kiss was deep and consuming. I curled a leg around his and lifted my hips, grinding against him. The friction of his jeans did crazy things to my senses, but it wasn’t enough.
“I want you in me,” I whispered in the darkness of my bedroom, surprised by my own aggressiveness. “Now.”
Brock made this deeply masculine sound against my lips. “You’re going to have to be patient.”
“No,” I whimpered.
I felt his lips curve. “Do I need to teach you to be patient?”
My lips curled at the sensual warning in his voice. “Maybe?”
Suddenly, without any warning, he gripped my wrists, capturing them in one hand. He held my wrists pinned to my stomach as he moved down and down, kissing and licking his way from my mouth to my breast and lower, over my navel.