“Satisfied?” he asks, with a soft, crooked grin. His eyes bore into me, piercing any reserve I had left. The air is charged between us and my body is carrying the current, making my breathing rapid and shallow. I’m staring at his mouth, the full lower lip tempting to the point of distraction.
Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. I chant in my mind. I’d kiss him, but he’s so tall I can’t reach his lips. If I just had a damn step stool…
“Not even a little,” I answer and reach up to touch his beard with one hand. I have been dying to run my hands over it for weeks and it’s even softer than I imagined.
Brooks' eyes are heavy lidded and his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me tighter against him. I can feel his warmth seeping through me everywhere our bodies touch. He lowers his face and brushes his nose against mine. Our lips are so close I can feel his breath tickle my skin.
“Olive?” He rumbles my name, and it sounds like he’s asking my permission. I’ve been fighting this feeling down for weeks and really, I don’t want to fight anymore. I want to give in. I want to drown in it. Drown in him.
I slide my arms around his neck and close the distance myself, letting my lips graze over his. His lips are gentle as he kisses me back and heat spikes through my body, curling in my core, tingling out through my arms and legs.
Somehow this is better than the hard, lustful way he kissed me in the hotel. He’s sweeter, almost reverent with me. It feels like he needs me as much as I’ve been needing him. Brooks cradles my body into his much larger one. It would feel cozy if not for the hard length pressing into my lower belly.
He licks my bottom lip, nipping at it softly and coaxing me to let him in. Until now, the heat between us was a sweet gentle fire; but now his tongue meets mine, and my body erupts with raging need. His thick thigh wedges between my legs and I’m moving against him.
My quiet moan is matched by his low growl. His fingers tunnel into my hair as I grind against him. More. I want so much more, but the sound of breaking glass interrupts us. Pulled from the moment, I look over my shoulder to see my empty wine glass broken on the counter behind me. One of us must have tipped it over.
I look back at Brooks, ready to laugh it off. His gaze slides from the glass back to me and I can see it in his eyes; the exact second he shuts down. It’s written all over his tragically handsome face before he even moves a muscle. Regret.
A chill washes over my body and my stomach drops. What in the actual fuck have I done? Things were just getting comfortable between us. We could finally have friendly conversations. I was doing so well at shoving down my attraction for him, but now I’ve gone and fucked this all up.