Brooke felt her heart trip and then find its footing, picking up its pace. “I hope so. You have no idea how happy I am to see you’re doing so well now, Ian. You seem settled—like you’ve made peace with everything you went through as a kid.”
He looked taken aback by her comment. “Why, Brooke Eldridge, you really do care.”
His reaction elicited a self-conscious smile from her. “Of course I care. I’ve never stopped caring.”
“What a coincidence; neither have I.” Ian’s hand rose to stroke her cheek with a soft, tender caress. Releasing a shaky breath, Brooke sat perfectly still, her nerves pulsing in anticipation as every cell in her body ached for his touch.
She let her lips part invitingly, as he lowered his mouth to hers. His lips explored hers only briefly, before gliding along her jaw in a series of slow, scalding kisses. Smoothing her hair back with his hand, he took her earlobe delicately between his lips, teasing the tender flesh with his tongue. A groan of pleasure escaped Brooke’s throat, and she gripped his arms tightly, beckoning his mouth back to hers; when it returned, his kisses were deep and raw, and urgent with need.
Molded against one another, they fell back against the bedspread. Above her, Ian kissed her relentlessly, while his hand slid under her tank top to skim her belly and then the crest of her ribcage, making its way upward to curl over the cup of her bra. Through the thin cotton fabric he leisurely caressed her breast, the pressure of his thumb on the sensitive tip igniting sudden, deep heat within her.
Brooke moaned softly against his lips as desire flared through her, pooling like liquid fire in the pit of her belly. She slid her palms up his chest, tracing the firm ridges of muscle through the fabric of his shirt, then upward over his broad shoulders to lace into his thick dark hair.
As her eyes fell closed, Brooke let her mind fly back to those nights as a girl when, her head against this very pillow, she’d envisioned Ian lying with her in the darkness, touching her as he was now. In this moment, the solid weight of him, the heat of his flesh and the cadence of his heart against hers far exceeded anything her young imagination could have supplied. She could no longer deny herself the exquisite pleasure of his kisses and caresses, or resist sliding her hands under his shirt to explore the taut, silken skin of his back, holding him close.
She stiffened as the subtle clack of the door latch reached her ears, but there was no time to react before the bedroom door swung open.
“Brooke, are you—oh, I’m sorry.”
Shoving Ian away from her, Brooke sat up abruptly, yanking her top down to cover herself. Standing in the doorway, Dana blinked twice at the pair on the bed. “I didn’t know you had company up here,” she said calmly. “I’ll talk to you later.”
As her mother backed out of the room, pulling the door closed, Brooke turned to Ian in alarm. She pressed her palms to her flaming cheeks, stunned by what had just happened—though every inch of her flesh still throbbed with yearning for him.
Clearing his throat, Ian swung his legs over the side of the bed. “That was awkward,” he muttered, adjusting his rumpled shirt over his torso.
Brooke released the lungful of air she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in. “It was humiliating . I’m thirty years old, and I’ve just been caught in my room making out with a boy.”
Ian patted her hand in reassurance, the edges of his mouth quirking upward in amusement. “Relax. We weren’t doing anything too scandalous.” He brushed her lips with a brief, consoling kiss. “But I suppose the mood is ruined. Anyway, your parents probably need us to get back to those dishes.”
“My God, how can I go down there now?” Brooke stared at her reflection in the mirror over her dresser, examining the tousled hair and pink, swollen lips.
“Like you said, your mom was probably pleased to find you in a
He looked taken aback by her comment. “Why, Brooke Eldridge, you really do care.”
His reaction elicited a self-conscious smile from her. “Of course I care. I’ve never stopped caring.”
“What a coincidence; neither have I.” Ian’s hand rose to stroke her cheek with a soft, tender caress. Releasing a shaky breath, Brooke sat perfectly still, her nerves pulsing in anticipation as every cell in her body ached for his touch.
She let her lips part invitingly, as he lowered his mouth to hers. His lips explored hers only briefly, before gliding along her jaw in a series of slow, scalding kisses. Smoothing her hair back with his hand, he took her earlobe delicately between his lips, teasing the tender flesh with his tongue. A groan of pleasure escaped Brooke’s throat, and she gripped his arms tightly, beckoning his mouth back to hers; when it returned, his kisses were deep and raw, and urgent with need.
Molded against one another, they fell back against the bedspread. Above her, Ian kissed her relentlessly, while his hand slid under her tank top to skim her belly and then the crest of her ribcage, making its way upward to curl over the cup of her bra. Through the thin cotton fabric he leisurely caressed her breast, the pressure of his thumb on the sensitive tip igniting sudden, deep heat within her.
Brooke moaned softly against his lips as desire flared through her, pooling like liquid fire in the pit of her belly. She slid her palms up his chest, tracing the firm ridges of muscle through the fabric of his shirt, then upward over his broad shoulders to lace into his thick dark hair.
As her eyes fell closed, Brooke let her mind fly back to those nights as a girl when, her head against this very pillow, she’d envisioned Ian lying with her in the darkness, touching her as he was now. In this moment, the solid weight of him, the heat of his flesh and the cadence of his heart against hers far exceeded anything her young imagination could have supplied. She could no longer deny herself the exquisite pleasure of his kisses and caresses, or resist sliding her hands under his shirt to explore the taut, silken skin of his back, holding him close.
She stiffened as the subtle clack of the door latch reached her ears, but there was no time to react before the bedroom door swung open.
“Brooke, are you—oh, I’m sorry.”
Shoving Ian away from her, Brooke sat up abruptly, yanking her top down to cover herself. Standing in the doorway, Dana blinked twice at the pair on the bed. “I didn’t know you had company up here,” she said calmly. “I’ll talk to you later.”
As her mother backed out of the room, pulling the door closed, Brooke turned to Ian in alarm. She pressed her palms to her flaming cheeks, stunned by what had just happened—though every inch of her flesh still throbbed with yearning for him.
Clearing his throat, Ian swung his legs over the side of the bed. “That was awkward,” he muttered, adjusting his rumpled shirt over his torso.
Brooke released the lungful of air she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in. “It was humiliating . I’m thirty years old, and I’ve just been caught in my room making out with a boy.”
Ian patted her hand in reassurance, the edges of his mouth quirking upward in amusement. “Relax. We weren’t doing anything too scandalous.” He brushed her lips with a brief, consoling kiss. “But I suppose the mood is ruined. Anyway, your parents probably need us to get back to those dishes.”
“My God, how can I go down there now?” Brooke stared at her reflection in the mirror over her dresser, examining the tousled hair and pink, swollen lips.
“Like you said, your mom was probably pleased to find you in a
Similar Books
