“You’ve not finished your wine or your pie,” I pointed out.
She looked at me nervously, then closed her eyes a minute and took a deep breath before opening them. “I’m sorry. This, we, it … I don’t think I should have come inside,” she said, standing up.
I watched her struggle with something more to say before walking out.
I tried to force myself to stay in my chair. Let her go. She was right to leave. We both needed her to leave.
But I couldn’t.
Jumping up out of my chair, I took several long strides until I was behind her. Reaching out, I grabbed her waist and pulled her back against my chest, wrapping one arm around her middle to hold her there. I closed my eyes tightly and inhaled her scent. Why did this one female make me so damn stupid?
“Stay,” I said against her ear, and she shivered in my arms. I relished the feel of it. I wanted her as affected as I was. I didn’t want to be alone in this complete insanity.
She inhaled deeply, then said in a whisper, “I’m not your type.”
“The fuck you aren’t. What do you know about my type?” I asked, smiling as I pressed a kiss to her earlobe.
She was exactly my type. Or at least, she had been once.
She let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know what your type is,” she admitted. “But you told Mrs. Jo I wasn’t your type.”
Damn.
I ran the back of my finger down her neck slowly. “You ever told a lie, Brielle? One that you wanted to be true?” I asked her as I traced the neckline of her top.
She shivered again, then nodded.
“You’re young. I swore off younger women,” I whispered against her ear. “I was changing my ways.”
I moved my right hand down to cup her breast through the soft fabric of her blouse. She sucked in a breath but didn’t move away from me.
“But you make that real damn hard.”
She stood so still that her quick intakes of breath were the only sounds she made. I cupped her other breast in my left hand and squeezed gently. They felt amazing. More than a handful—and I had big fucking hands. A soft moan came from her lips, and I wanted to see her. I wanted to watch her face. See those big eyes staring up at me. Full of the same need that was pumping through me. Owning me.
I dropped my hands and grabbed her waist, then turned her until her back was against the wall. She let her head fall back as she looked at me. It was there. The same desire that was clawing at me. The want to know just how good this could get.
Reaching up, I grabbed her chin between my thumb and forefinger and held her still. Studying the plumpness before lowering my head to claim those sweet lips. The softness was better than I’d dreamed up, and when she opened her mouth for me, I was lost. I grabbed her head with both hands, burying my fingers in her thick brown locks.
She tasted like the wine and cherries. She made them a perfect combination.
I moved a hand from her hair and slid it under her shirt until I could tug her bra down, freeing her breasts. When the soft, warm flesh filled my palm, I groaned and broke the kiss. The shirt had to go.
“Take it off,” I growled, looking from her down to the shirt.
She moved her hands up to the buttons and began unfastening them slowly, as if at any moment, she might stop. It was driving me crazy. I fought the urge to rip it free. When the last button was undone, her breasts were held up by the bra still under them. They looked like a fucking buffet being offered up to me.
I touched them reverently. Her large pink nipples were even more beautiful than I’d imagined, and I had imagined them more than I cared to admit. I squeezed them gently before lowering my head to pull a candy-sweet nipple into my mouth.
Brielle’s moans stoked the fire inside me. I was going to fuck her. No one else would do. It had to be her. In this moment, I didn’t care if she was engaged to Cam, whoever he was.
“Dean,” she said breathlessly, “please.”
I was afraid to ask what thatpleasemeant. If it was her asking me to stop, I was going to end up on my knees in front of her, begging. This couldn’t be all she let me have.
I kissed down her stomach and went to my knees, then began unfastening her shorts.
“What are you doing?” she asked.