Brooks turns his eyes back on mine, anger replaced with heat. He reaches one hand into his back pocket, still caging me in with his left arm, and leans even closer as he slaps some cash on the bar behind me. “We’re leaving,” he says before taking my elbow and pulling me off of my bar stool. He grabs my purse and leads me out of the restaurant.
His grip is firm but gentle. He’s strong and I can tell he’s being careful not to hurt me. Turns out I love the whole controlled power thing. I’ve never been turned on by the idea of an Alpha guy, but this is really doing it for me. Physically, at least. My brain is annoyed by my body’s reaction to him, but he’s like catnip for my lady parts.
It’s cool and clear outside, the sidewalks quiet. Garland and Christmas lights are strung up all around the main square. It feels cheerful and romantic, but I’m too shell shocked by Brooks’ chest thumping in the bar to enjoy it. I should drag my feet. I should pull away and go home alone. I should but I don’t because I’m crazy turned on and I stupidly want to see where this is going.
“Can you get your big gorilla paw off of me and give back my stuff?”
Brooks pulls me close. I feel like he can see right through my skin to my heart frantically beating in my chest. He keeps a firm grip on my elbow and holds my purse out of reach as I snatch at it.
“What is going on with you?” he asks me quietly, his voice calm and in control. I glare at him. I don’t want to fucking talk to him right now. “I’ll give your purse back after you and I have a conversation. This,” he swings my bag over our heads, “is insurance. You’re not going to run off on me again. So I’ll ask you one more time, what is going on with you?”
I debate trying to jump up and grab my purse, but I don’t think I can reach it because he’s so damn tall. If I was wearing my running shoes instead of these boots, I’d have a chance. Stupid, sexy footwear.
“Nothing is going on with me. I’m fine. I just want to go home.”
Brooks eyes me hard. “Why are you acting like this?”
He’s not angry, but he also won’t let this go. He just keeps pushing and pushing and I feel like a volcano about to explode.
“Here’s an easier one, why did you run off on me last night?” he shakes my elbow gently.
That insignificant movement shakes something loose in me and I finally reach the end of my cool. I’ve been stewing in a pot of sexual frustration, disappointment, hurt, and uncertainty for so long I can’t contain myself anymore. I wrench my elbow out of his hand and ball my hands into fists.
“Because you didn’t want me! Because I don’t want to be kissed and then told that it was just a mistake!” My voice cracks. It’s too much to admit, but I can’t stop. “Because you looked at me like you regretted kissing me!”
Brooks’ frustrated demeanor crumbles. He looks like I’ve struck him. “Is that really what you think?” He growls as he pulls my body flush against his, wrapping a warm arm around my back. My hands land on his chest, all hard planes and muscle. “I want you so fucking bad it hurts.”
Startled, I lean back and look up into his eyes. “I… I…” I stammer like an idiot. I’m so confused, but hope replaces some of my anger. I must look like an idiot gawking at him like this but he doesn’t seem to think so. Heat burns in his eyes and he looks at me like I’m the only woman on Earth.
“Jesus, Olive. I’ve been trying to go slow! I was trying to be patient.” His voice is gravelly with emotion, and it makes me shiver. “I will never regret this.”
He palms the back of my head and presses his lips to mine. He kisses me hungrily. Devouring my mouth, like he’s starving for me. He pulls me tighter to his front, his thick arm wrapping me into him as his tongue brushes against the seam of my lips and lust ripples up my spine. I have never felt desire like this. I’ve never felt this desired, either.
Sliding my arms around his waist, I open my mouth and let him in. His kiss is an invasion, scorching in its intensity as his tongue slicks against mine, promising all the filthy things he can do with it. I’m lost in the current, moaning and arching into him as his fingers tunnel through my hair.
Brooks presses his forehead to mine, catching his breath. “I want you, Olive. Don’t you dare doubt it for a second.”