32
FRENCH QUARTER, NEW ORLEANS
In the aftermath of her epic sleep that resulted from the feeling of complete and total freedom for the first time ever, and in the face of unprecedented fear that resulted from knowing what Brennan had signed up to do, Skye floated through the next few days in a haze. He’d stopped going to work. He’d started getting up before dawn every morning to run ten miles. They spent a lot of time sitting on the squishy sofa in the den watching TV. At least, they pretended they were watching TV. They were mostly just coasting through an anxiety-riddled cloud.
Neither of them was eating much, and Brennan continued to go on runs, and Skye drifted in and out of catnaps.
The night before he had to go do the scary deed, Brennan went out with Connor, Scott, Luke, Luke’s brother, Gabe, and Carson. He was gone so long that it was pointless to try to wait up for him. Skye turned off the TV and plodded back to the bedroom, where she slipped into a silk nightgown and curled up in the bed.
Sometime later, the lamp was switched on, and she blinked her eyes open to see Brennan through a dreamlike blur covering her sleepy eyes, sitting on the edge of the bed. He lingered there a moment, stroking her hair away from her face before he leaned forward to press a warm, whiskey-flavored kiss to her mouth. He deepened the kiss, awakening both her and the ache of physical longing. He abruptly broke away to stand up and undress. He left the room to slip into the en suite, started the shower, and then he returned to the side of the bed, holding out his hand to her.
“Come with me, baby girl.”
Skye smiled, taking his hand as she climbed out of the bed, and followed him into the bathroom. Once there, he slipped off her nightgown and held her hands as they both stepped in the shower.
Brennan didn’t waste any time. After all, they were down to mere hours. He pressed her back against the cold marble wall, the steam enveloping them, and devoured her mouth. His slow, skilled hands skated up the sides of her waist and palmed her breasts while he kissed and licked his way down her neck. His cock was rigid and hot against her lower tummy, and she reached for it, stroking him firm and slowly.
He growled low in his throat, pushing her harder against the wall, his teeth grating across her neck. “Fuck, honey, I need you.” He drew his hand down her stomach, straight to her aching pussy, gliding his fingers up and down her slit. “I need you so much right now.”
She pumped his cock slower, stroking her thumb across the head. “Then take me. Let me make you feel good, Brennan.” She angled her chin up at him and briefly caught his bottom lip between her teeth. “You know I’m really good at making you feel good.”
He dropped his face to the crook of her neck and groaned again. “I didn’t grab a condom.” He pressed a kiss to the dip in her clavicle and started to back away. “Hold that thought.”
Skye snagged his wrist and pulled him back, turning around so her back was flush against his chest. “I told you I’m clean. You don’t need it.” She widened her stance to reach between her thighs to hold his erection again, swiveling her hips to stroke the head of his cock against her slit. “You need this way more than anything right now.”
Brennan swept his hand around her waist to slide his fingers down to slowly circle her clit. “Yeah, but what about—”
“I can’t get pregnant.”
His fingers stilled. “You can’t?”
“No.”
He paused for a long time, and his hand slid up to rest on the curve of her hip. “Do I want to know why not?”
An infection at the age of four because her little body had been wrecked by unspeakable horrors that her biological father had subjected her to. It didn’t even stop him either.
Skye blinked the visual and tactile memories away and flattened her palms against the marble wall, bending at the hips and pressing her ass against his shaft. “No.”
Brennan didn’t move for a couple of seconds, and then he lost control, grabbing the flesh of her ass cheeks and spreading them just slightly, and he drove his dick to the depths of her core. Her fingertips anchored against the slick marble wall, and she moaned. He drove into her, over and over and over. Her moans and whimpers and his throaty growling mingled with the sound of their skin slapping together.
“God, you feel incredible.” He grabbed a fistful of her sopping wet hair and angled her head backward. “I love you. I fucking love you, Skye.”
Say it!something inside her screamed.He might die tomorrow. Just say it for him and sort it out later.
It was on the tip of her tongue when his hand clamped around her mouth, his lips at the shell of her ear. “Don’t say it.”
She whimpered, pushing her ass out farther while he continued to thrust into her. He could read her mind. Or maybe he couldn’t. Maybe he just knew her well enough by now to know that’s what she was thinking. But never mind. It didn’t matter.
The heady swirl of her approaching orgasm caused her eyes to roll back, and she licked his palm that still covering her mouth. He rubbed his index finger along the perimeter of her lips, and she caught it between her teeth only long enough to draw it into her mouth, sucking it like it was his cock.
“God, baby.” He pressed his forehead to the back of her head and wrapped his arms around her waist. He was now slamming his hips against her, his rapid breaths tinged with a sound of desperation. “Oh fuck…Christ…Skye.”
Blindness descended upon her as her climax came alongside his. As she cried out his name, her fingers slipped against the marble wall, and her legs began to shake, and her knees completely gave out. But Brennan caught her.
He caught me.
Nobody had ever caught her. He’d caught her so well that she didn’t even fall. She was perfectly safe in the cocoon of his arms and chest, his distinctive fresh, spicy scent filling her lungs. And then he set her upright on her feet again. Just like with so many things. This was just who he was to her.
