Shine Your Love on Me (12 page)

He found her sensitive spot quickly and
caressed her there for a bit before sliding a finger into her. She
gasped and her hips bucked when the digit hit home. Brooke closed
her own fingers around him. She moved her hand up and down, making
him groan loudly.

“Oh, God, Brooke, baby, honey. Oh, God.” His
eyes shut.

She grinned as the control shifted from him
to her. Pushing up on her knees, she rubbed him along her wet
flesh.

He gripped her hips. “When you do that
I’m—”

“Shhh,” she said, stopping his words with her
lips. As she kissed him, she guided him into her, easing down on
him. When he was buried deep inside, she shuddered with pleasure.
Brooke sat up straight, threw her head back, and moaned.

Pres slid his hands up her abs and over her
breasts then back down. He pinched her peaks gently. Brooke
flattened her palms on his chest, hunching her shoulders forward,
leaning hard on him. She lifted her hips slightly, then a little
more, then down again. She rose and came down again, slowly,
teasing him.

“Christ, woman! You’re making me crazy.”

She laughed and rode him, moving up and down
steadily. She swiveled her hips and squeezed with her inner
muscles. His eyes flew open, and he gripped her middle. She watched
his biceps move as he guided her up and down, faster and
faster.

Control slipped away from her, replaced by
need. Brooke repositioned her hands to the bed just above his
shoulders and shifted her weight to her arms. She moved with the
rhythm Pres set. He closed his hand on her breast and squeezed. She
opened her mouth and uttered a loud groan as the tension inside her
coiled up, ready to spring. As fast as it gathered, it burst,
sending pleasure shooting through her body. She cried out, throwing
her head back, her long hair swinging with the movement.

Brooke licked her lips and trained her gaze
on Pres. He shot her a lopsided grin, as he glided his hands up her
back. After plastering her to his chest, he tucked a hand under her
bottom and rolled them over. Control of their lovemaking shifted
back to him. His eyes darkened and glittered with desire. He kissed
her hard then pushed up on his knees. He lifted her leg to his
shoulder, and she raised her other knee. He muttered something she
couldn’t understand and pounded into her.

Brooke moaned. “Oh. My. God.” Her sensitive
flesh sizzled as he filled her completely. Spent nerve endings
blazed back to life. He ruled her body. Brooke had never lost
control this way to man. She liked it.

“Oh, baby. Honey,” he said, burying his face
in her shoulder as his hips drove his shaft in and out of her.

Brooke’s palms rested on his chest for a
moment before she gripped his arms. The tightening inside her grew
more and more unbearable with each thrust until he pushed her over
the edge into another orgasm. She bit into his shoulder as her body
released the tension. Shortly afterward, Pres bent his head and
moaned softly. After three hard pumps, he stopped. Her name slipped
from his lips.

Sweat dripped from his forehead onto the bed.
His neck and back were damp. When he raised his head, Brooke leaned
forward and ran her tongue over his lips.

“Mmm, salty,” she said.

“Incredible.” He shook his head.

“Monumental.” She gazed into his eyes.

“Awe-inspiring.”

“Earth-shaking.”

“Dizzying.”

“Good one, Pres. Shout-out worthy.”

“Shout-out worthy?” He cocked an eyebrow and
laughed.

“My mind is blank. All my blood is…somewhere
else.”

He laughed again, harder this time. She
joined him. He eased out of her and flopped down on his side.
“You’re so…unexpected,” he said.

“Me? You’re the surprise of the century.” She
sat up.

“I am?”

“Master lover. Wow. Hot.” She fell back on
the bed and fanned herself with her hand.

“You’re an inspiration. You’re so…so…sexy.”
The way he dropped his voice an octave to emphasize the last word
made her shiver. He tucked her into his shoulder and ran his
fingers through her hair. She drew circles on his chest. He kissed
her forehead. Brooke tipped her chin up and gazed into his eyes.
The warmth she saw there surprised her.

Then, Pres left her to fish his phone out of
his pants.

“The phone? You’re calling someone, now?”
Annoyance crept into her tone.

He raised his hand as he focused on his
cell.

“Marv? Yeah, Pres. About Buddy. What?” He
laughed. “You know me well. That’s right. Is it all right if he
stays? I’ll be home by ten. Yeah. Thanks. Okay. Light with one
sugar, right? Goodnight.” He put the phone down on the chair with
his clothes.

“Buddy?”

“Yeah, my neighbor, Marvin, walks Buddy for
me when I have a date and won’t be home until late.”

“He guessed you were staying over?”

Pres blushed. “It happens sometimes. Marv can
read me like a book.”

“So, he’ll keep Buddy tonight?”

“Yep. Can’t forget my best friend, can
I?”

“Absolutely not!” Brooke pushed to her feet
and retreated to the bathroom. When she came out, she handed him a
blue towel and a fresh toothbrush.

He kissed her. When he returned, the lights
were off, and Brooke was in bed. He slipped in beside her.
“Com’ere,” he said, pulling on her arm. She scooted over next to
him. Pres turned her on her side, spooning her.

“How close do you want to be?”

She inched closer, squishing her rear against
him.

“Hey, not too close, or I’ll never get to
sleep.”

“Huh?”

“Any tighter against me, and I’ll have to
make love to you again.”

“Oh.” She chuckled. “Sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be sorry. I’m not.” Pres leaned
over and kissed her cheek.

Brooke turned toward him. “Try that again.”
Their lips joined for a brief kiss.

“Goodnight, kitten.”

“Goodnight.” She paused. “Thank you for the
best date ever.”

“My pleasure. And it was…my pleasure.”

A smile settled on her face as she closed her
eyes. With Pres’s arm around her, his hand resting on her breast,
his chest pressed against her back, she relaxed completely. A sense
of safety surrounded her like a warm vapor, lulling her to
sleep.

As the sun poked in the window, Pres began to
stir. He glanced at the clock. He usually got up at six, so he
didn’t flinch when he read the time.
Six fifteen. Slept in.
After last night, no wonder.
He chuckled to himself.

Getting a jump on the day, writing when the
world was quiet, worked for him. He cracked an eye open and spied
Brooke lying next to him. Her dark hair was splayed out across the
pillow. Her face turned toward him looked beautiful in peaceful
repose. The absence of worry softened her features. He wanted to
kiss her, but didn’t dare wake her.

So, it wasn’t a dream.
He grinned.
Closing his eyes, he relived in his mind some of their heated
moments together. His thoughts drifted to sharing the bed, when at
three, he had rolled over and come into contact with her soft skin.
How she had hugged him in the middle of the night, cozying up,
pressing against his chest.

Pres missed the intimacy of overnight. Many
New York women didn’t go for a guy without a steady income. He took
affection where he could find it and didn’t expect
all-nighters.

The sheet and lightweight blanket lay a few
inches above her waist. Looking at Brooke’s nakedness made him
hard. He wanted to touch her breast, peeking out from under her
arm. He controlled himself, not wishing to wake her so early.
God, she’s gorgeous. Sweet and soft.

He knitted his brow as he tried to reconcile
the corporate advertising go-getter with the lovely, vulnerable
woman sleeping by his side. He hadn’t liked the other Brooke much,
the ‘type A’ girl. But as he gradually got to know her, the hard
shell melted away. Sunday after Sunday, watching her with Ruth,
hearing Brooke laugh and seeing her dressed in her mom’s retro
outfits, he softened his judgment.

Last night, he had seen a totally different
Brooke. She was hurt, wounded, without direction. She clung to him,
sharing her pain, open, defenseless. Her plight touched him.

At first, he had thought she’d gotten her
comeuppance. Her excessive confidence had bordered on arrogance. He
had chuckled to himself about how he’d enjoy her slide from her
lofty perch. But learning how she’d been betrayed, hearing her
confess to being confused, scared, and rudderless, sympathy
replaced his desire to see her fall.

After being sure he had her pegged, he now
had to admit to himself he hadn’t known her at all. He’d seen
different sides, like a surprise ball, the more he unwrapped, the
more wonderful things he discovered. Her interest in his writing
and her degree in English brought her closer to his heart. It was a
scary feeling for Pres, who put relationships on hold while he
focused on breaking into the movie or television industry.

Short-term affairs were more his style.
Brooke wasn’t a woman to cotton to short-term. She’d been with that
asshole, Lloyd, for some time, he figured. Besides, he wasn’t
finished unwrapping her, not ready to give her up.

He lay back down, staring at her, but
couldn’t resist rubbing a few strands of her silky locks between
his fingers. She moaned and turned away from him, yanking her hair
out of his grasp. But she didn’t wake up.
Sleep is the best
thing for her. Next to sex with me.
He chuckled to himself.

Pres pushed up on his hands, leaned over,
kissed Brooke’s head, and left the bed as quietly as he could. He
slipped on his boxers and headed for the kitchen. He filled the
coffeemaker and fished around in the fridge for breakfast food.
Finding a carton of eggs, he turned on the stove.

The sound of cracking eggs seemed to disturb
Brooke. She moaned and raised her head, peeking out, barely above
the back of the sofa. “What are you doing?”

“Making you some coffee and breakfast,
kitten.” He took down two clean mugs from the cabinet and
poured.

“It’s six-thirty!”

“Great to get an early start on the day,” he
said, searching for a spatula.

“Early? It’s the middle of the night.”

“Sun’s up. Birds are chirping.”

“Are you always cheerful at this hour?”
Brooke hunkered down, drawing the sheet up to her nose.

“I get up at six every morning.”

“Oh my God. An early riser. It’s Sunday,
Pres.”

“So? I write seven days a week. Gotta stay in
the habit.”

She groaned. He turned the heat down on the
eggs and tiptoed over to the bed. In one swift movement, he ripped
the sheet and blanket down. Brooke shrieked and curled up into a
ball.

“Shy? Now?” He cocked an eyebrow. “Kinda late
for that, isn’t it?”

She looked at him and giggled. “Maybe. Still.
It’s daylight.”

He glanced around, found a robe hanging on
the back of her front door, and tossed it to her. When she pulled
her arms back to slip them into the sleeves, his gaze zeroed in on
her breasts. He licked his lips as his groin tightened.
They’re
amazing.
He returned to the eggs, but continued to watch her as
she stood up. Her entire naked body was visible for a few seconds
before she swung the robe closed.
I want her.
Pres took a
deep breath and whistled a mindless tune as he flipped the eggs
over.
Patience.

“Coffee’s ready,” he said, pointing to a mug
on the small side table next to the bed.

“Thanks.” She closed her fingers around it
and sipped. “Perfect. You got it just the way I like it.”

“I’m observant. Writers have to be.”

She padded over to join him. “Watcha
makin’?”

“Fried eggs and toast. Not much happening in
your fridge.”

“I don’t eat much at home. Correction. I
haven’t eaten much at home in the past.”

“And you will now?”

“I’ll have to. No income.”

“Didn’t you or Lloyd cook when he stayed
over?”

She blushed, dusting her cheeks with the
prettiest pink.
Gotta make her blush more often.

“Lloyd always ordered egg sandwiches from the
deli.” She gazed at her feet.

“I see. I hate to waste money. Why should I
order eggs when they’re so easy to make?”

“They look delicious. I’m starving.”

“You can have the rest of your steak sandwich
from last night, too.”

“Yuck! Steak and onions at six o’clock?” She
made a face.

Pres laughed. The toast popped up, and he
went to work. Brooke stood out of the way while he masterfully
buttered the slices then loaded the food on plates. He handed her
one then followed her to the table. After putting his down, he took
her in his arms and kissed her. Brooke softened against him.

“You were magnificent last night,” he
whispered in her ear.

“So were you.”

“Any chance for an encore?” he asked, burying
his face in her neck.

Brooke put her arms around him and moved up
close. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The lovers wolfed down their breakfast and
washed the dishes. In a heartbeat, Pres was leading Brooke to the
bed, his body primed and ready to go.

* * * *

Brooke dried her hair with a towel as she
lounged on the couch. Squeezing into her small shower with Pres had
been a feat. But after washing each other, they got turned on and
he took her against the wall. Ecstasy had rocketed through her
veins like wildfire. She’d never made love in the shower before.
Quiet, contemplative Pres was full of surprises. She picked out
clothes from her retro drawer and prepared to bring brunch to
Nan’s.

While Pres was combing his hair, she stole a
glance at his torso. Shoulders so broad, she marveled he fit
through her front door. Covering strong pecs was the right amount
of hair tapering down his belly to disappear under the waistband of
his pants. She chuckled as she gazed at that furry path, leading to
pure delight.
Best lover ever.