“Hey, Arthur, slow down. Take it easy. Breathe.” He set a hand on my shoulder, urging me not to stand.
I could’ve pushed free, but a couple of oxygen-containing breaths would be a good idea. I squeezed my eyes shut and sucked air into my tight chest. “Tell me I didn’t just kiss someone who didn’t want me to.” Please.
Brooklyn’s chuckle held a dark heat. “No. Definitely not that.”
“It’s not funny. Consent.” I made myself look into his face, trying to read his expression. “You did say you were bi, right? But that’s not consent.”
Even if it had blasted the lid off the mythical “but he’s straight” box I’d been trying so hard to keep Brooklyn in. Suspicion wasn’t evidence. Colin talking like Brooklyn was one of us wasn’t evidence. I’d made “straight guy” a useful barrier between me and a man I liked way too much for one week of…of him cooking for me, and helping me out, and driving me places, and charming my ornery little chihuahua. Okay, maybe I had excuses for liking him. “All the more reason not to assault you.”
“Arthur, that wasn’t assault. I’ve been trying hard not to flirt with you, but I think I failed. You wouldn’t have kissed me if you weren’t pretty sure I wanted it.”
I wasn’t so certain. He was so perfect and I’d gone a damned long time with just me and my hand, just me and my dogs, while James and the others found their forever guys. While I felt more and more certain I’d be alone forever?—
“Quit thinking so hard.” Brooklyn set one long-fingered hand against my bearded cheek, leaned in and brushed my lips with his.
I met his gaze, saw his pupils dilate in those hazel-green eyes before he leaned in again with purposeful intent. This kiss wasn’t dry or soft. Brooklyn took possession of my mouth and I welcomed him, let my lips part, let my eyelids drift shut, and took everything he gave me. His tongue raided my mouth, then teeth nipped my lower lip and his hand shifted from my cheek to thread into my long hair, tugging a little as if he knew I loved that.
I hadn’t gotten fully hard since the hospital, not even when I’d been imagining laying Brooklyn out on my bed like a gift while telling myself I was being a fool. But now my dick stirred at the heat of his mouth on mine. Relief and desire made me frantic, and I pressed toward him, driving the kiss. I took his head in both hands and held him still as I changed the angle. He opened for my tongue and we traded leads. Brooklyn’s kissing was as generous as the man himself.
When we paused, drawing back a little, Brooklyn ran the back of his hand over his chin.
“Beard burn?” I asked. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to?—”
Brooklyn gave my hair another tug. “Hush up and kiss me again.”
So I did.
Seconds, minutes, hours later, my leg throbbed in deep displeasure at the way I was leaning. The pain jolted me out of the haze of need and want, glorying in a universe that was all Brooklyn West’s mouth. I managed to turn my yelp into a grunt but I had to sit back.
Brooklyn let go of me. “Head? Leg? What can I do?”
“Leg. I just need time for the ibuprofen to kick in. Stretch it out a bit.”
Brooklyn’s smile brightened his eyes. “Like, say, on a bed?”
“Um?”
“Only if you want to.” His grin faded. “I know you’re hurting.”
“Not that bad,” I told him. “I want to. If you don’t expect too much.”
“More kissing?”
“I can do that.” I let him get up first, then used the crutch to lever myself out of the chair. My thigh rebelled against the first few steps, but it was just pain. I forced my thoughts away from the vertigo and nausea that still sometimes hit out of the blue. Tonight was a good night. Don’t think about that and it won’t happen. I switched off the kitchen light and followed Brooklyn down the dim hallway with Eb dancing ahead of us.
At the bedroom doors, Brooklyn paused. “Your room or mine?” The tiny nightlight plugged in the wall didn’t let me read his expression.
“Yours.” I loved my dogs but I didn’t want Eb-nose or Chili-paws landing in naked places at the wrong moment. “Let me put Eb away.” The big dog gave me a betrayed look when I ushered him into my bedroom with the other two, but settled for an ear-rub before I closed the door. “Lead on.”
Brooklyn hovered in his doorway. “It’s not that clean. I wasn’t expecting this.”
“I really don’t care. You can’t work with animals and be too picky.”
“Right. Sure.” He hesitated a moment longer, then gestured me in.
The room was dark enough that I paused. “Is there a lamp, maybe? If I whack my leg on something the game’s over.”
“Of course.” Brooklyn hustled past the end of the bed and switched on a small lamp.
