Play Fling (A Stupid Cupid Book) (35 page)

A sort of glow lit his expression. He looked
down, nodding.

She needed him, to feel him, to see that look
in his eyes again, that told her she hadn’t lost him.

“Elliott,” she pleaded, reaching for him.
“You have to know what I say is true. You have to believe me.”

The nurse returned, glanced at each of them,
then rolled her eyes before leaving again, muttering. Brooke hardly
noticed. Why wouldn’t Elliott look up? The hum in her veins ebbed
and swelled in waves of need.

“Elliott, please.” What more could she say?
“I need you,” she said softly.

Elliott’s shoulders heaved. Brooke frowned.
Was he crying?

His chuckle echoed off the metal cabinets.
“It was the fanny pack, wasn’t it?”

He looked at her then, his eyes glassy.

Brooke laughed, nodded. “Definitely.”

He walked to her and it was all she could do
to stop from tumbling over the edge of her bed to meet him.

Yes, it was the god-awful fanny pack, and the
shirt and the trucker hat. It was the books instead of flowers and
how he’d forced herself to see who she really was. No one, not
anyone she could think of, had ever really seen her for her. Past
the safe façade, beyond the strived for perfection. The warts of
her insecurities. Elliott embraced all of her, had since the
beginning.

“I thought it might be,” he said, his voice
thick as he reached her side. “Is there any room for me?”

Brooke gulped. “Yes. Absolutely.” Parts of
her she never knew existed shivered for him. “Room in my heart, in
my life, everything. Everywhere.”

He chuckled again and trailed a finger down
her cheek. Brooke leaned into the tickling heat. “I meant on the
bed,” he said.

Brooke flushed. “Oh. Yes. Of course there
is.” She scooted over.

Careful not to disturb her leg, Elliott
joined her, drawing her close. From her shins to her shoulders, he
pressed his hard body to hers. And with every inch, relief soothed
every fiber of her being. Brooke sighed over it, closing her eyes,
breathing it in. Exquisite relief…and pleasure.

Uh-oh.

“Um…I think I should warn you,” Brooke said,
detesting the tremble in her voice. “I might begin begging for
things.”

His scent enveloped her senses, woodsy and
clean and so masculine. She inhaled it deep into her lungs. His
hand stroked her cheek. Hot sensation shimmied down her spine. Her
thighs tingled with unwarranted anticipation. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, no?” Elliott grinned, his gaze fixed to
hers. “Never. And you’ll never have to beg….” His husky voice sent
heat through her. “Much.”

Someone could return at any moment, that
nurse, the doctor! He had no business insinuating anything could
happen. The sensations consumed her, though. She nodded. “Yes, I
can beg.” Brooke swallowed. “I like saying please. Please kiss me.
Please don’t stop, please—”

Elliott’s mouth met hers, swift and hard. She
whimpered as pleasure shot through her body, satisfying the torrent
of sensation, but encouraging it all at once. She gasped against
his lips. He kissed her more deeply, his arms encircling her, yet
roving over her body. Her need expanded, then gathered into her
depths. She pressed as closely as her body would allow.

“Brooke,” he groaned, moving his attention to
her neckline, his hands up to her breasts. He cupped both mounds,
teasing thumbs over her nipples. A shockwave burst through her. She
gave a small cry.

“Shhh,” he said, his hands going lower.

She arched into his touch, pleasure lifting
her awareness. Her core moistened, sensing his approach. Then his
hands were gone. He moved off the bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“We can’t do this. Not here, not like this,”
he whispered, disappearing past the doorway.

Brooke sat up, straining to hear his
conversation with her nurse, but she couldn’t decipher the words.
He returned a moment later, the nurse behind him. Fifteen minutes
later, Brooke was discharged.

Elliott lifted her into his arms, carrying
her with ease. “I don’t understand, how did you…?”

“I have my ways. Now, let’s get out of here
before they change their minds.” He winked down at her. The cold
air hit her as the exit doors slid open. “Can you walk?” he
asked.

She shook her head. He carried her to a
bench, set her gingerly down and got his car. He placed her inside
and drove. The downtown lights twinkled across the valley floor,
the moon hung as a sliver. He took corners slowly and didn’t rush,
no matter how many empty stop signs they hit. Anticipation,
elation, rushed through Brooke with each slamming beat of her
heart.

How in the world was it possible that he
loved her? But he did. He loved her.

He pulled up to his driveway, then had her
back in his arms in record time. Brooke’s body reacted, heating
fast, despite her mind screaming for her to keep it together. Her
body didn’t care and by the feel of things, neither did Elliott’s.
Ever so carefully, he strode up the stairs and laid her on his
bed.

Her breathing grew to panting as she watched
him move. He tugged off his jacket, pulled his shirt off. His chest
dipped in a deep valley between his pecs. Brooke nearly groaned as
he kneeled next to her. He lightly kissed her, then moved away,
lighting the room with candles. She lay spellbound, unable to
speak, only feel. Finally he joined her on the bed, and began
undressing her.

His eyes spoke of his passion, but he tugged
at her clothing with patient purpose. One pant leg, another. Her
sweater, her bra. Her panties. His hands trailed after her clothing
while his gaze held to hers. She twitched and writhed and gasped,
but loved every second of excruciating need building inside
her.

“Brooke,” he whispered, kissing her neck. “I
love you.”

Her hips twitched. God, his voice was like
liquid sex. “I love you, too.”

He stood up, unbuttoned his jeans and let
them fall past his naked hips. The muscles at his lower waist cast
shadows, directing her gaze downward to his naked, hard cock.

Brooke’s mouth watered.

“You’ve got me so hot,” Elliott said, easing
onto the bed next to her. “I won’t be able to last long.”

She wouldn’t either. Brooke had gone beyond
speaking. His skin melded too perfectly to hers and the heat and
need was dizzying. Brooke clung to him, following his lead as he
moved over her, nudging her thighs open.

As he touched the tip of his swollen cock to
her wet heat, Brooke cried out. His thick length slipped deep
inside of her, sending a riot of pleasure quaking through her
limbs. “Oh my God!”

Elliott rained kisses over her face, pausing.
Brooke opened her eyes. This moment, him inside of her, wanting
her, was perfection. Nothing else mattered. Brooke let go.

Elliott pressed deeply into her, holding her
close, kissing her, grinding. Her moan of ecstasy caught in her
throat. He thrust into her, deep and hard. She tilted her hips, met
his body.

“Brooke,” he gasped, sending tingles racing
down her neck. Her pleasure coiled tighter.

“Elliott,” she breathed, burying her face
against him, disappearing into her sweet bliss, licking and tasting
his salty skin. She gripped him, hearing her name again, climax
rocking through her, throbbing out in wet, pulsing waves. She cried
out, again and again.

Elliott grunted, slamming into her depths,
then went still. She felt him throb as he came into her, his body
jerking, telling her his completion equaled hers. Satisfaction
bloomed through her most primal self. He loved her.

Breathing hard, Elliott slid to her side and
enfolded her into his arms.

The hum in Brooke’s veins subsided and she
realized she felt like herself again. Only better. Refreshed and
alive. Loved and in love. Elliott kissed her forehead, then sank
back.

“I may fall asleep on you.” He yawned. “If I
do….”

“Not to worry,” she said, nuzzling his chest.
“I’m about to, too. Just promise me you’ll be here when I wake
up.”

He crossed his fingers over his heart and
sleepily grinned.

His sigh lifted his chest and her head with
it, reminding her of a large cat. He shifted his head against the
pillow. Brooke’s heart beat quietly now. The sounds were like a
quiet symphony mirroring a new calm in her heart, new hope in her
soul.

Gratitude overwhelmed her. She wasn’t sure
who she could thank for finally finding Elliott, or for the courage
she found to face her fears and love him. All of the events and
mishaps and heartaches, all seemed like little puzzle pieces only
now fitting together.

Elliott would be here for her. A sticky mess
of ending friendship awaited her when this night dawned, but she
wouldn’t think about Millie right now. For now Brooke would only
revel in this new, surreal bliss. She closed her eyes, nestled
deeper into Elliott’s warm hold and sent a prayer up, out, into the
ether.

To whoever is listening… to whoever helped
me along the way… thank you. For him, for this, for all of it…
thank you more than words can ever possibly say
.

Epilogue

Millie held her breath, averting her head,
but keeping her gaze on Brooke, a blur in elegant white, making her
way down the lobby corridor. A chandelier lit the train of her
dress and the gold in Brooke’s hair. Millie’s chest squeezed.

“Breathe, Millie,” AJ urged at her side. “She
can’t see you from here and you don’t exactly look like yourself in
that wig. She won’t recognize you.”

Millie knew he was right. She let the air in
her lungs whoosh out. The sigh fell flat among the chiming slot
machines but it felt damned good. She straightened a little. Brooke
wouldn’t be looking for her, after all. Not here, not today, after
so long. How could a year have passed already?

Millie still hardly believed Brooke had done
it. She’d actually eloped with Elliott to Las Vegas. Millie never
would have considered it of the old Brooke she knew. But it was
true. AJ brought her here to witness what she could, to secretly
share on the outskirts of what she’d helped create. Real, true
love. Millie had even lost her first gold bracelet and if that
wasn’t proof, AJ standing at her side definitely was.

She’d finally made a match.

Happiness and sorrow swelled inside of her.
She hadn’t admitted how much she’d missed her friend all these
months. Now, the hurt clenched her heart, making her eyes
sting.

She and AJ trailed the couple at a safe
distance, being sure to keep to the casino floor. Millie took a
deep breath, rubbing her hands down her tailored pants before
adjusting her fitted jacket. Chanel. A congratulatory gift from
AJ.

Bringing her here today was a gift, too. Even
though it stung. AJ likely had ulterior motives, as well. Things
weren’t going well with her current match. What a shocker. This was
his way of reminding her that she could succeed, even in the wake
of some hugely embarrassing mistakes.

Brooke and Elliott paused in the corridor.
Millie watched Elliott kiss Brooke and the hurt ebbed away. They
were happy. How could a year have already past? Driving home from
the hospital that night, leaving Brooke behind had killed Millie
inside. She could still remember the cold night air blasting her
face from the open window as the reality of it all had broken
through her.

She had had to walk away from her dearest
friend. Her match was over. AJ saw her through the worst of it in
the first following weeks, giving her time, space and considerate
gestures.

No goodbyes, no chance to explain. Brooke
might hate her for a while. And then, who knew? It didn’t really
matter. Brooke had Elliott now, things were as they should be.

Seeing Brooke step through the elevator
doors, Elliott close behind, Millie faced AJ.

“How long before we have to go back?” she
asked. He’d made all the flight arrangements and knew a schedule
better than she ever did.

“I got us on a red eye. I’d say we have time
enough to catch a show, have dinner if you’d like,” he said.

Millie half laughed. Vegas would never be
AJ’s style. He’d stay for her, though. She’d kiss him if she
thought she could stop at a simple peck on the cheek. Her ever
present attraction to him wasn’t worth toying with. She’d come too
close to indulging it before and thankfully hadn’t since. Millie
drew another ragged sigh out and returned her attention to the
newlywed groom holding open the elevator doors. Silently, she
wished Brooke and Elliott the very best of things to come, the
brightest of futures.

“A show sounds fun,” Millie said at last,
looping her arm through AJ’s. “As long as it’s topless.”

“You?” AJ asked, a seductive lilt in his
words. “Or the showgirls?”

Millie’s laughter peeled out from deep
within her chest. As Elliott moved his arm and the elevator doors
began to close, Brooke’s head turned Millie’s way. For the briefest
of moments, their eyes met before the elevator doors closed.

~

Brooke’s heart hitched as the doors closed
and she was left staring at her own reflection in gold. If she
didn’t know better, she’d swear she just saw Millie. But that
couldn’t be. What would Millie be doing here in Vegas, today of all
days? The elevator dinged as it arrived at their floor. Elliott
nuzzled her neck before drawing her out by the hand.

“Hey,” he said, as they strode down the
hallway to their suite. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

She nodded quickly. “I’m fine. I’m wonderful.
A little tired, I guess.” She kissed his hand to assure him. “I
thought you said eloping was going to be the easy way out of
wedding exhaustion.”

Elliott chuckled as they stopped at their
door. He slid the key card into the slot. “I know what you mean.
I’m beat. Elated but exhausted, too. How does a nice hot bath and a
night under the covers sound?”