No Reservations - Megan Hart [7]
They'd been there for four days. Arrived on Christmas Eve and planned to stay until New Year's Day. It had been four days of whirlwind activity from morning until night, with present opening, visiting relatives, taking tours of Brandon's hometown and viewing the hot spots — his elementary school, high school, the grocery store where he'd had his first job.
The chair where he'd had his first blow job.
Her eyes flicked towards it against her will, and he didn't miss the look. Brandon hooked a finger in the button of his jeans and tugged it open. Then the zipper, notch by notch. When he pushed the denim over his hips and stepped out of it, still without letting go of that damned belt, Leah's heart set up a steady thumping that sounded so loud she was sure he could hear it. He had to see the way her mouth parted and her breath hissed in over her tongue. He never missed anything like that.
Down went the jeans and he stood there in his soft cotton boxer briefs, already bulging in the front. Lord have mercy, he was a knee-trembler. Her grip tightened on the desk chair, which swivelled a little.
'Brandon.' Leah tried to sound stern. 'This is not the place.'
He grinned again, damn him. 'Why not?'
Because your mother wears sweatshirts with pictures of kittens on the front, and I can't deflower her son in her house without feeling like a fucking slut. Because your dad looks just like you will in another twenty years and is only a couple years older than my last lover. Because I'd prepared myself for them to hate me, and instead they've welcomed me into your family like a daughter, and I den't know how to handle that.
She didn't say any of those things, because Brandon had moved step-by-step closer, and she could smell him. Soap and water. A hint of cold fresh air. They'd been out visiting his grandparents and aunts and uncles, had taken a walk around the neighbourhood. His hand had kept hers warm.
He was so tall and stood so close she had to tip her head back to look at his face, but she was helpless not to. With the desk just behind her ass, Leah let herself sit on the edge so she could lean back far enough to keep her neck from cricking. That was more of a mistake than giving him that damned belt had been, because all she could think about was the first time he'd gone down on her, in that Harrisburg hotel room. She'd told him to eat her pussy and he'd gone to his knees like a pro. How long had it been since she'd had his mouth on her cunt? The five days she'd had her period before they left Pennsylvania for Iowa, and four days here, but who was counting?
Leah was not a woman who gave up control. When Brandon leant down to offer his mouth to hers she didn't turn her head, but neither did she lean to meet him. His grin curved his lips and his breath teased her. He didn't kiss her. He was waiting for her.
Oh, they'd come so far. Six months ago she'd have said there was no way this beautiful man, sexy and self-confident, strong and secure, would ever have put himself in a place where she could get him hard with nothing more than a murmured command. She wouldn't have believed it of herself, either. And yet here they were, not mistress and slave but something far, far deeper.
I love you,' he whispered into her ear when she didn't grant him the privilege of her kiss.
Her pulse throbbed in her wrists and throat, and between her legs. Leah drew in a soft breath, not because the words were new or even unexpected, but because her world still rocked a little every time she heard him say them. He knew it, too. He was working her, but did she care?
He'd braced his hands on the desk on either side of her hips, his upper body a mere inch from hers and his mouth teasing her ear. Now Leah reached to sink her fingers into the deep, dark depths of his hair at the base of his neck. She traced the familiar curve of