She Can Scream (26 page)

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Authors: Melinda Leigh

BOOK: She Can Scream
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He tasted like wine and cheese. His body went ridged, and she desperately hoped she hadn’t made a huge mistake. When his tongue swept into her mouth, Brooke opened to welcome it with relief. She let her hands roam across the hard planes of his chest.

“You don’t have to do this, Brooke.” Luke murmured against her mouth, and she hesitated. Was she doing this wrong? Was he not turned on?

Brooke slid her hand down further to cup the bulge in his jeans, and he gasped. He was definitely turned on. She unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way.
Holy cow.
There was his stomach, all lean and ripped in a classic washboard she’d never seen outside of a magazine ad. But this was no picture. He was solid and real and within reach.

“Brooke, I don’t want to take advantage of you.” Luke stopped her, holding her arms firmly. His breath came in hard pants, his face was flushed, and his erection strained rather obviously against the front of his pants.

Brooke stifled a laugh at the ridiculousness of his statement. She’d kissed him. She’d unbuttoned his shirt. She’d tried to unbutton his jeans. He hadn’t touched her with anything but his lips, except to keep her hands from removing any more of his clothing. Yet he was concerned about taking advantage of her.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“No. Really. It’s not that I don’t find you attractive. Believe me. I want you too, but you’re in a vulnerable state right now. I want to be sure this is really what you want. I’m not relationship material.”

Brooke just stared for a minute. She didn’t know what to say.
Actions speak louder than words.

“Luke, what I want is for you to stop talking. Now.” Her hands itched to stroke his bare skin. Dark hair swirled across his chest and down into the waistband of his jeans. Brooke’s eyes followed the trail. She broke the trance and pressed her body up against his. With her hands still restrained, she began to kiss her way across his chest, which turned out to be exactly the right move.

The hold on her arms relaxed as his hands slid down her upper arms in a gentle caress. Brooke swirled her tongue around his nipple, and he groaned.

“Brooke.” The single word he breathed onto the top of her head did not sound anything like “please stop.” It sounded much more like a “keep going, baby” kind of statement.

Brooke slipped her arms free from his grasp and flattened her hands against his bare chest. Desire swelled in her chest in a consuming wave. An ache pulsed in her belly as her mouth found his skin again. She wanted more of him. All of him. She licked her way down his chest.

He looked male, smelled male, tasted male. Her mouth moved lower, and his body jerked as her tongue rimmed his navel. His hands moved to her shoulders, but rested there, trembling lightly, almost limp.

Brooke glanced up. His eyes were riveted on her face, the lids half-closed. Sweat dampened his chest. He looked powerless, as if he was under some spell that she had cast.

Power flooded Brooke’s body, and her blood began to hum through her veins. She’d never felt in charge, as if she’d entranced a man with her sexuality. Sex with Ian had always been pleasant but predictable. Ian didn’t like to lose control. Ever. At the time, she hadn’t minded, but then she hadn’t known what she was missing. The feeling was liberating, intoxicating, freeing her from the helplessness she’d experienced all week. Luke had barely touched her, and she was more turned on than she’d ever been in her life.

Her clothing rasped against her skin, and she ached to be free of it, to feel Luke’s skin sliding over hers.

Brooke stood up and grasped the hem of her sweatshirt, prepared to draw it over her head. Then she stopped. If she could see him this well, and she was enjoying the sight, then he would be able to see her just as clearly. Running kept her in decent shape, but her flat stomach was marred by silvery stretch marks that the bright kitchen lights would highlight. She’d experienced a sexual revival in the past few days, but her confidence hadn’t recovered
that
much. Dimmer lighting was definitely a necessity. Candlelight would be perfect.

“What’s wrong?” Luke’s voice was edged with concern. “If you’re having doubts, you don’t have to go through with this. We can stop anytime you want.”

“No. Believe me. I want to go through with this. You have no idea how much I want to go through with this.” She hesitated.
She did not need to point out any more of her insecurities. “Let’s go in the bedroom where it’s more comfortable.” She took his hand and led him from the kitchen.

In the bedroom, she pulled him close again, letting her hands trail across those amazing abs. City lights filtered through the rain-splattered glass, but the room was more shadow than light. She spread her fingers across his flat, hard belly. Good Lord, those Abercrombie & Fitch models had nothing on him.

Luke pulled away. “Hold on.” He moved a switch on the wall. Blinds lowered over the windows with a soft whirring sound. He reached for the bedside lamp.

She put a hand on his arm. “How about lighting those candles instead?”

“I want to see you.” His voice was thick and hoarse and turned her on even more. But still.

“Ah, but that’s the thing. I’m not so sure I want to be seen.” Her eyes dropped to the floor. “My body’s not exactly perfect anymore.”

“Brooke.” Luke reached for the light and switched it on. “No one’s body is perfect. I want to see everything.” He stood there for a few long seconds, silently weighing some unspoken factors.

Brooke held her breath. Was he changing his mind?

Finally, he took a step backward and spoke. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours. Then we’ll see if
you
still want to sleep with
me
.” The stoic expression on his face told her he feared her rejection, and her heart swelled at the courage his offer had required. He shrugged out of his own shirt and turned around.

Brooke barely contained the breath that wanted to
whoosh
right out of her lungs at the sight of the angry scars that covered his back like badly matched patchwork. Despite the months that
had passed since he incurred his injuries, some of the scars looked fresh and raw.

“Does it hurt?” The question came out in a whisper.

“Not much. The skin has no feeling in some spots, and is unusually sensitive in others. Sometimes it itches. It’s stiff.” He turned back around to face her. “Still interested?”

Had he really thought she wouldn’t be? If anything, his display of trust turned her on even more.

She nodded and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah.”

The smile spread over his face slowly, and then turned into a humorous leer. He wiggled an eyebrow back at her. “Your turn.”

Brooke grasped her sweatshirt and drew it up over her head. Luke’s eyes brightened as he stared at her breasts, held into a lovely and enticing position by a worth-every-nickel push-up bra. Her nipples tingled and tightened as if he’d touched them. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her jeans and slowly drew them down over her hips and legs. In just her string bikini, she stood in front of him, just out of reach.

“Take them off.” His demand was more breath than voice.

Brooke reached behind her and unhooked the bra. The straps slid down her arms as it fell to the floor. She bent to wiggle out of her panties and looked up at Luke. The hunger on his face as he surveyed her naked body wiped out all her doubts. Her blood began to hum again.

Standing before him as he stared at her, Brooke found the fact that she was nude and he was still mostly dressed erotic. He hadn’t moved, but the vein in the side of his neck bulged rhythmically with each beat of his heart.

Brooke stepped toward him and pressed her bare breasts up against his chest, rubbing her nipples against the coarse hair. He
raised his hands tentatively to her shoulders and separated their bodies a few inches. Brooke watched, fascinated by the slight tremble in his fingers as he slowly stroked downward over her breast with one hand. He cradled her in his palm. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.

“I want to savor every bit of you. There’s no rush.” He whispered as his lips brushed her temple.

Actually, there was, and his statement only fueled the fire within her. Brooke was going to blow a fuse if she didn’t get him inside her soon. But Luke seemed content to just touch her breast, staring at his own hand as if he was completely fascinated with the weight and softness of her in his fingers. Brooke, however, had lots of other body parts that begged, yelled, clamored to be stroked. An ache that only Luke could satisfy.

He needed to feel the urgency that coursed through Brooke’s veins in a thick and hot rush.

She raised her eyes to his again and pressed a palm against his erection through his pants. His breath caught and quickened as her fingers worked the button of his jeans. She drew the zipper down carefully and freed him into her palm. Well, more than her palm. He was huge and heavy as she cradled him in her hand. Satin over steel.

His thumb moved to brush her nipple, and Brooke felt the tingle all the way deep into her belly. Urgency replaced her need to feel powerful. She drew his jeans down to his knees and pushed him backward toward the bed, his erection as impressive as a Manhattan high-rise. As she tossed his pants aside, his hand closed over hers. The veins in his forearm corded with tension. So much for him not being as aroused as her.

“Nightstand.” His words were guttural and strained.

Brooke reached into the drawer and drew out a box of condoms.

She handed him one and tossed the rest onto the nightstand. Vaguely she thought she should be nervous, but her belly only tightened with anticipation.

The foil was slippery in Luke’s sweaty fingers.

“Maybe I’d better get that.” She took it from him and tore open the package, wondering if she’d remember how to put one of these on. It had been many years since she’d needed to use a condom. Luckily, it turned out to be much like riding a bike, and the basic design hadn’t changed in two decades.

Brooke climbed on top of him and straddled his hips.

His hand slid across her belly and down between her legs, gently exploring and testing. He needn’t have worried. She was more than ready. She was so far beyond ready; she was going to finish all by herself if he didn’t get a move on.

And damn, wouldn’t that be a shame?

One finger slid inside of her, and he tensed. As she moved to lower herself onto him, his hands gripped her hips, stopping her descent.

“What’s wrong?” Brooke panted, trying to keep the edge of irritation out of her voice. So close and yet so far away.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” His face tinged red, both from exertion and a faint trace of embarrassment. “I’m a… a big guy, and you’re so… ah… small.”

Brooke could not contain the short burst of laughter that shot from her lips. She quickly covered her mouth to stifle any further giggles. If there was one steadfast rule about men and sex, it was that a woman shouldn’t laugh when they talk about their man parts. It tended to spoil the mood.

Luke raised one brow.

“I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. Really.” She took a deep breath and calmed herself. She did not want to talk. She wanted his huge erection inside her right now, rubbing her where she ached, but he was so darned considerate. “Trust me. I’m going to appreciate everything you’ve got for me.” With that last statement she took him into her body in one long stroke.

Holy…

He filled her completely. She held still, letting her body adjust to his presence.

Whoever said that size didn’t matter was
so
full of shit.

Brooke rose and eased down on him. Luke’s body snapped tight and arched up off the bed. Sweat beaded his forehead and chest. His hands reached up to cup her breasts. Callused thumbs stroked her nipples.

With palms flattened on his stomach, she moved again, savoring the feel of the slow stroke inside her body.

He pulled her down to his chest and breathed in her ear, “Brooke.”

Luke’s hands grasped her hips. Fingers circled around to squeeze her ass. His chest heaved as she slid up and down on his chest. “Easy. Don’t want it to end this soon.”

But Brooke couldn’t control the movement of her hips. They pulsed faster until Luke wrapped both arms around her and, with a quick roll, flipped her onto her back.

He slowed his movements, but Brooke was already too far gone to stop.

“No. Faster. Please.”
Almost there.

He grunted and rose over her. Supporting his weight with his arms, he drove into her. Brooke clutched at his shoulders as
the climax built. The pressure increased until she could barely breathe.

Sweat mingled. Luke’s hips thrust faster. Her body slid on the sheets. Brooke reached for the headboard and held on.

Brooke closed her eyes as bright, multi-colored lights flashed and pulsed behind her eyelids. Tension coiled deep in her belly. Her body jerked and she closed tight around him as pleasure burst through her core, flooding her veins with heat.

Luke’s back arched, and his body stiffened for a long moment. Then he groaned, shuddered, and collapsed on top of her. “Thank God.”

He drew his elbows under his arms and supported his weight. Then neither of them moved as they both sucked air into their deprived lungs.

Finally, Brooke opened her eyes. She planted her hand in the center of his chest. His heart hammered against her palm. Luke smiled and leaned down to kiss her on the lips. “Thank you.”

“I think that’s my line.” Brooke grinned back at him. His face was more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. Her hand stroked down his rib cage. He could use a little weight, but the man was fit.

“That was amazing, but I’d envisioned something a little… slower.”

“Sorry. Couldn’t wait any longer.” Brooke twirled her fingertip in the hair on his chest. “We could always do it again.”

“Practice does make perfect.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The shadow of the three-story brick building fell over his car. In the darkness, rain sluiced off the windshield. He stared through the rivulets at the apartments in front of him. What would be seen by some as an inconvenience tonight was a blessing to him. The downpour would obscure visibility and keep people inside.

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