Sweet Obsession Page 13

She shrugs. “I don’t feel like going back for more coffee. You would’ve spilled it.”

“Ah, okay. I thought maybe it was because you care about my well-being, or something. My mistake.”

She stops walking. I look back over my shoulder.

“What is it?”

“Are you married? Is that it?”

Confusion pulls my brows together. “Do you think I’m married?”

When have I given her the impression that I was married?

She hits me with a sturdy glare as she marches directly for me. “I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking. You aren’t wearing a ring, but not all married guys wear their rings, especially ones who like to jerk off to the idea of other women. Is that you?”

I stare at her, long and hard. Is she fucking serious with this? I grab her hand and pull her in the small alleyway between two businesses.

“What are you doing?”

With a hand to her hip, I guide her back against the brick wall. Chest to chest, I look down at her, trying to contain my anger at this bullshit back and forth while I balance these stupid fucking coffees.

“Do you really think I’m married? Is that the kind of man you think I am? One who cheats on his wife?”

She tilts her head up. “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. It wouldn’t be the first time some married guy tried something with me. Although, I doubt any of them would’ve rejected me the way you did. Was that your guilty conscience talking last night?”

What the fuck?

I bend down, inching closer. “I am not married. If I was, I never would’ve invited you to my class because I wouldn’t have been able to keep my eyes off you. Fuck, Brooke, the way we flirted that first day, that wouldn’t have happened. I told you I’m not interested in a quick fuck. I don’t do that anymore. I’m not some young kid fucking around. I want more than that.” My hand slides higher on her waist, fitting to her curves. “Give me more.”

She blinks heavily, then looks back up at me with round, doleful eyes. Her head shakes ever so slightly. “Do you have any idea how embarrassed I was last night? How awkward I felt? I was naked, Mason, and you rejected me.” A rush of air pushes past her lips, blowing against mine. “You rejected me.”

Fuck. I hurt her. I hadn’t meant to. I would never.

“Brooke.”

Her gaze lowers to a spot on my shirt.

The pain in her voice, paired with that wounded look she’s trying to hide from me tears through my reserve.

I tilt my head down. She lifts hers at my sudden movement, gasping as our mouths slide together, searing into a kiss. It’s hot and wet, almost painful as we both reveal our desperation. My body presses her to the brick. She parts her lips with a groan as her warm hands wrap around my neck, fingers twisting in my hair and tugging. My tongue moves into her mouth, tasting, gliding against hers. I palm her arse, wishing I had use of both hands right now so I could properly do this.

She sucks on my lip, then bites it, smiling when I bend further with a moan.

“You’re a good kisser,” she says against my mouth. “Really good. Must be the accent.”

I laugh, licking along the seam of her lips, swallowing her taste. Savoring it.

“I want you, Brooke. Do you see now?”

“Mm. I think.” She tugs the hair at the base of my neck when I try and lean away. “No, wait, don’t stop.”

I drop my forehead to hers. Her hand relaxes.

“Do you want more?” I whisper, staring at her mouth, her eyes, the cute little wrinkle in her nose.

She nods, biting at her bottom lip.

“Me too. I want more of that, of everything. Try it my way.”

“Try it my way. It involves nudity.” She attempts to wiggle closer.

I press against her hip, keeping her pinned to the wall.

“Mason,” she moans as I bend and kiss her cheek. My mouth moves to her ear.

“I could fuck you right now, up against this brick wall while anyone could walk by us. Would you like that? Would you come for me?”

She shudders. Her hands fit to my waist.

“Oh, God,” she whispers.

I kiss the skin below her ear before continuing. “It would be amazing, and I want that, I do, but my way, which involves feelings and knowing someone, trust me . . . it’s better. It’s so much better, Brooke. I want you to really feel me. I don’t just want a hard fuck in an alley and then nothing. I can’t do that.”

I slowly lean back. My hand falls away from her body as I watch the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

Is her heart pounding as much as mine? I fight the temptation to ask.

I gaze at her. Her cheeks are flushed. Her hair is falling out of the hair-tie it was haphazardly contained in.

She looks beautifully undone.

“Try it my way,” I insist again.

Please. I want this with you.

She sucks at her bottom lip as she thinks it over, her gaze flicking between my eyes and my mouth. With a soft grunt, she pushes off from the brick and snatches the carrier out of my hand. Her feet quickly carry her away from me.

The hell?

“Is that a yes?” I call out, turning my head to watch her.

“I don’t know.” She gives me a playful smile over her shoulder. “Is it?”

A laugh rumbles in my chest.

Little devil. Do you think that answer will satisfy me?

I sag against the brick after she disappears around the corner. My head falls forward. I look down at the erection pleating the front of my shorts.

“Fucking persistent bastard, aren’t ya?”

I adjust my cock and get out of the alley, heading back in the direction of the coffee shop.

 

 

BROOKE

Okay. Okay okay okay.

That was just a kiss. A kiss, Brooke. Stop walking like you just had your vagina smashed.

Pushing my shoulders back, I continue down the sidewalk with the coffee carrier, losing the obnoxious spring in my step. It’s hard not to bounce a little. My skin feels like it’s vibrating. A continuous pulse moving over my flesh, sending a delicious shiver up my spine and down my limbs.

Darting my tongue out, I taste my bottom lip.

It’s swollen, sensitive from Mason’s assault. Or mine. I wasn’t gentle when I kissed him back. I went at him like a woman deprived, which is exactly how I should still be feeling, only . . .

That was, hands-down, the best kiss of my life.

It wasn’t just the way he worked his mouth, it was the filth spilling out of it. The soft murmurs against my skin about how he could fuck me. How he wanted to, only . . .

He wants more than that. More than a hard fuck in an alley.

Feelings and knowing each other.

More.

My head grows heavy. Am I seriously contemplating this request?

After the way things ended last night, I was dead-set on waving bye-bye to the prospect of Mason and jumping on the next willing and available dick. No man has ever turned me down before. Ever. Definitely not one where we’re both already naked and his cock is at full mast. But Mason . . . he refused me. Straight up, with my tits out and everything. I was angry and confused. Hurt. God, I didn’t want to admit that, but I was. I wanted him. He obviously wanted me. I drove home like a mad-woman on a rampage.

A mad, horny woman on a rampage.

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