Just Give In.... Kathleen O'Reilly
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Brooke frowned, wondering what she had missed. “Why are you leaving?”
He touched her hair, smiled sadly. Somehow the Captain seemed worldly wise. “It’s not right.”
“You think I’m taking advantage of you?”
“No. I think I’m taking advantage of you.”
The anger simmered slowly inside her, building, spilling over into something more dangerous. “Do I look stupid?”
The Captain took a cautious step back. “No.”
“Then why have you decided that this is a bad idea? You were a happy man earlier. You seemed thrilled.” She glanced at his crotch. “All of you.”
The Captain flushed. “It was a mistake. You’re in an uncertain situation. I’m the only person you know in Texas.”
“Except for Austen,” she reminded him.
The Captain’s expression was alarmed. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to see him.”
Brooke sighed. “Well, no, not until I get back on my feet. And I will,” she added, seeing his skepticism.
“I know, but sex confuses things.”
She glared. “Do I look confused?”
“No.”
“Are you confused?”
“No.”
Somehow the Captain could be very dense. “Then why are you still wearing clothes?”
This time, she was happy to see an appropriate level of apprehension. “You haven’t eaten,” he pointed out, an obvious stall tactic, and Brooke took a predatory step closer.
“If I was hungry, I would say so. I have a tongue in my head. I know how to use it.”
The Captain took another step back. The door snapped shut.
“This is gratitude,” he argued.
Her hands went to the hem of her T-shirt.
“Not the shirt. Not again.” He swore, and Brooke realized that she needed to change her tactics, so she did.
She came to him, rose up on her toes, and laid her head on his heart. It was a good heart, a noble heart, and Brooke was pleased that Sonya had thrown him over.
Sonya was an idiot.
Ever so slowly, his arms wrapped around her, iron bands made of steel. Everything faded to silence, except for the beat of her blood. He tilted her chin, met her eyes, giving her a last chance to leave. However, he felt right, this felt right, and she reached up to trace the jagged edge of his scar with a gentle touch.
Instead of letting her touch him, the Captain bent, covered her mouth with his, kissing her urgently, with no gentleness at all. His strong hands skimmed lower, molding her hips to his, and when she felt the hard ridge honing between her legs, Brooke groaned happily.
This was what she wanted, he was what she wanted. He pulled her shirt over her head, and his mouth moved to her breast, her nipple, sucking until the flesh was taut and needy. The stubble on his jaw was rough against her skin, a friction that was both pleasure and pain.
There was something about this man that spoke to her, aroused her. Underneath the scars and the machines was a man who cared. A man who didn’t want to.
Tonight, she wanted to give him what he had given her. Peace. Hope. Happiness.
Needing to feel him, she tore at the buttons on his shirt, ruining a perfectly good garment, but his mouth was making her crazy, the prodding pressure between her legs was making her crazy. Her hands explored the smooth planes of his back. With her lips she tasted the warm salt of his neck, and her fingers teased his nipples until he told her to stop. The couch was too far, the floor so convenient, and they fell there, the Captain stripping off her jeans and her panties, thrusting a finger inside her. Her eyes locked with his, the gray darkened to smoke. With each stroke, her muscles pulsed, the pressure building higher and higher.
It was like nothing she’d ever felt. The pleasure, yes. The security, no, and that was the most erotic thrill of all. Her nails dug into the wall of his shoulders, anchoring there because her body was about to explode.
She could see the sheen of sweat on him, feel the strain in his body, his arms. Total control.
Her legs flexed and she shuddered, and still his hand moved. Faster, harder…
Yes…
A low whimper broke from her and when she was ready to come, he stole his finger from her. She whapped at his back, but then his mouth trailed kisses down her breasts, her stomach. With rough hands, he parted her legs, and Brooke’s heart stuttered and then threatened to stop.
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