A bitter knot formed in the back of my throat, and I drew in a shallow breath. “What . . . what were you thinking when you first saw me in the restaurant?”
His lashes lifted. “I was thinking that I was glad I sought you out. I was thinking that you looked more beautiful than I could’ve possibly ever imagined. And I was thinking . . . I was thinking that even though it was risky approaching you and having you figure out why I was there, I just had to hear your voice.”
The next breath I took was shaky. “What were you thinking when I said I was going out with Grady again?”
Brock’s lip twitched. “I wanted to punch my fist through a wall.”
“How did . . . you feel when you woke up with me?” I asked, my voice hoarse.
“Calmer than I’ve felt in fucking years,” he said, his eyes warming. “Like I was waking up and I was home.”
Oh.
Oh God.
My eyes blurred. “When you kissed me? And when you were finally with me?”
“Felt like it was the first time and the best and the last time.” He took one more step, and with his long legs, he was right in front me. I tilted my head up, and he slowly lifted his hands, cupping my cheeks. “I think there is one more question you need to ask me.”
The lines of his face faded as tears filled my eyes. “Do you . . . do you love me?”
“I love you . . .” He lowered his forehead to mine, and a shudder rolled through me. “I love you like I wish I allowed myself to when we were younger. I love you because you’re not just sweet but you’re kind. I love you because you have this fire in you that you don’t even recognize, but I do. You’re strong and you’re a survivor.”
A tear slipped down my cheek, and he chased it with his thumb. I couldn’t speak. If I tried, I knew I’d start sobbing. Hearing him say these words, these beautiful words, weren’t even from my wildest dreams. My heart swelled like a levee about to break. I wanted to laugh and cry. I wanted to dance and I wanted to hold him.
He loves me.
“There is not a single part of how I love you that has anything to do with guilt.” He dragged his thumbs along my cheeks, catching another tear. “And I’m in love with you and I’ve never felt this way for anyone. You’re my first,” he said, pressing his lips to the deep scar in my left cheek. “You will be my only.”
Brock kissed the left corner of my lips and then he tipped his head, kissing the right side of my jaw. “I love you, Jillian.”
I was beyond words.
Clutching his shoulders, I turned my head, blindingly finding his mouth, and from there, everything spun beautifully out of control. My shirt came off. His sweater joined it on the floor. One after another, items of clothing fell away until there was nothing between us.
His hands flexed on my hips and in one powerful move, he lifted me up and had me on my back. I took a startled breath and then he was hovering over me, caging me in with his arms and his body.
Brock swooped down, claiming my lips in a feverish kiss that was full of so much love and passion. My heart fluttered unsteadily as molten lava coursed through my veins. “I love you,” I said to him, cupping his cheeks and dragging his gaze to mine. “I will never stop loving you.”
“You’ve never stopped.”
Then there were no words. All communication was through lips and teeth, tongue and hands. He nipped at my breasts and suckled deeply as he trailed a fiery path of hot kisses down my stomach and below my navel, and he still went lower. He licked every inch of my skin and every breathy moan he drew out from me was an expression of love.
Intense heat built, turning into a glorious ache. Lust and love spread throughout me, and when his mouth closed over the tight knot of nerves, I screamed his name. My head fell back as his fingers plunged deep inside me. He worked me up and took me over the edge.
I was coming when he rose above me once more and planted himself deep, delving into my mouth with his tongue, and he thrust his hips against me almost savagely. I bucked under him, grasping his straining arms as I wrapped my legs around him.
As he moved, I no longer knew where I began and he ended.
My head thrashed as he thrust in and out, in and out, his mouth leaving mine so his hot breath panted in my ear. We were fucking. We were making love. Grinding his hips, he reached between us, and the tension spun tightly. Pressure built, and then it happened. I came again in a burst just as powerful and beautiful as the first. Tight, sensual spasms rocked my body as Brock’s thrusts lost all rhythm. He moved so fast and so hard, pushing me across the bed. The thump of the bed against the wall filled the bedroom.
“I love you,” he said, and then he was falling over the edge, surrendering to the bliss still echoing through my veins.
Skin slick with moisture, we held each other as the minutes ticked by. I don’t know how long we stayed like that before he eased out of me and onto his side. He brought me with him, circling his arms around me and holding me so I was facing him, holding me in a way that said he was never going to let me go.
Brock kissed me in a way he never had before. At least that was how it felt. He kissed me slowly, tenderly, and so deeply that tears rose.
Love.
This kiss was what love felt like.
* * *
Long after our bodies stopped moving and our hearts slowed, I lay awake beside a sleeping Brock, replaying his words over and over again. A crooked smile was probably permanently fixed to my face, and I didn’t care. There was so much Brock had said to me that had brought that smile to my face. The fact he loved me was a big reason. Duh. But there was something else.