Page 47 of That: Taylor & Brooks
“No. I want this. I want you.”
He grabbed her legs, prompting her to wrap them around his waist. Brooks carried Taylor upstairs to his room, kicked the door open and he placed her on her feet. She walked in slowly, taking in the space that was so him. The massive bed. The black and gold comforter covering it. Plush carpet. Floor-to-ceiling windowsgleaming with slight light from the street lamps.
He moved around the room with ease, removing his jewelry and placing his watch and gun on the dresser. Taylor sat on the edge of his bed, watching him, realizing how much trust they were placing in each other. When he removed his shirt, revealing his tattoos and flexing muscles, she found herself holding her breath and staring at how nice his body was.
“Do you work out?” She asked, barely audible.
Brooks laughed.
“Yeah, twice a day if I can. Got a little gym downstairs. Why?”
“Oh, nothing...” She glanced away, her tone shy. “You just have a nice body.”
She was nervous, and he could tell.
“Come here,” he said softly, reaching for her hand.
Taylor hesitated, but stepped forward, letting her fingers curl around his. He pulled her gently toward him, guiding her to stand in front of the full-length mirror in the corner.
Brooks leaned in, his lips brushing the side of her neck. Soft kisses. Slow. Intentional. His hand cradled her jaw, gently guiding her face back toward the mirror.
“You can’t look at yourself?” He asked, his breath warm against her skin. “You scared you might enjoy what you see?”
“Brooks...” she started, voice shaky. Her knowledge of words was so minimal it was sad.
His hands slipped between the waist beads he loved, grounding her, steadying her feeling the timidity rising in her chest.
She’d come here thinking it would be quick. Passionate, sure but straight to the point. They’ beenflirting for weeks, the tension had been stressing them out for just as long. But Brooks wasn’t rushing. He was taking his time, teasing her with patience, stretching the pressure until her body was consumed with it.
“You’re nervous,” he murmured, pressing a slow kiss to her shoulder. His hands glided up from her stomach, sliding over the curves of her breasts. A gentle squeeze to her nipple made her body jerk in response. “Ain’t no way it’s been that long.”
He stepped back just enough to grab the hem of her shirt, lifting it with ease. She raised her arms, letting him strip it away. The moment cool air met her lace-covered nipples, they tightened, exposing just how ready she was.
His fingers toyed with her, tugging, rolling, flicking the peaks through the flimsy fabric until her hips jolted forward, her hands landing on the dresser beside her, her grip tightening as he continued.
With his free hand, he unzipped her shorts. Slowly pushing them down over her curves. They dropped to the floor and she stepped out of them. He trailed a finger down her ribs until he landed on her thong.
Taylor went still as his warm fingers dipped beneath it.
The second he grazed her clit, she shuttered. Goosebumps covered her arms; her thighs clenched together like vice grips. Brooks let out a deep, rough sigh, his head dropping to her shoulder.
“Shit.” His fingers slid lower, finding her drenched. Too soft. Too warm. Too fucking ready. He had to breathe and regain his composure.
She didn’t fight it. Just let him lead.
Brooks never looked away as he ripped through the thin webbing of her fishnet stockings, exposing her. She stood there, lace bra and thigh-high boots, staring at herself in the mirror. Between her legs, she glistened.
“A goddamn masterpiece.”
She held her breath as his finger slid in, slick and effortless. He growled against her ear and shook his head.
Jackpot.
Brooks circled her clit with expert precision. “Your pleasure is my only concern. Do you trust me to give you everything you need?”
Taylor barely found her voice, her head nodding weakly. “Yes,” she breathed.
Brooks kissed her temple, then turned her around, lifting her onto the dresser with ease. She was facing him. He spread her thighs, taking in the sight of her wet, exposed, and waiting. His dick throbbed.
