Read Time of Possession (Seattle Lumberjacks #5) Online
Authors: Jami Davenport
Tags: #romance, #erotic, #love, #friendship, #pets, #seattle, #brothers, #sports, #football, #sweet, #best friends, #veterans, #soldier, #high society, #broken engagement, #nfl, #team, #friends to lovers, #quarterback, #super bowl, #hot hero, #male bonding, #animal lovers, #lumberjacks, #seattle lumberjacks, #boroughs publishing group, #son and dad, #backup, #seattle football team, #boroughs
Her pj bottoms joined her top on the floor,
leaving her in nothing but a conservative pair of cotton underwear,
just as sexy as the flannel. Brett’s eyes travelled the length of
her long, lean body, and he swore he’d never seen anyone so
beautiful, body and soul and heart. Definitely heart. He fumbled in
the nightstand for a condom and rolled it onto his straining cock,
never taking his eyes off her.
“I really do love you.” He said it again,
wanting something from her, a reaction of some kind. “I’ve loved
you from the moment I first saw you.”
She shook her head, almost as if she didn’t
believe she was worthy of his undying devotion. “Brett, let’s take
it one day at a time, like you prepare for each game one game at a
time.” Leave it to a Harris’s sister to use that particular
football analogy on him.
“I do mean it. With every breath I breathe I
mean it. With every beat of my heart I mean it.”
“Brett. Please. Don’t look past tonight.
Enjoy the moment, as if it were one special night in a lifetime of
ordinary nights. No regrets. No doubts. Just you and me.” She bent
down and slid her underwear down her long thighs until they settled
around her ankles, then she stepped out of them. She put one knee
on the bed, and his eyes focused on that spot between her legs. She
shaved, leaving nothing to his imagination, which was fine with
him. He’d done enough imagining for the past month. Now he wanted
reality.
He ran a hand up her thigh, and she
shivered, her eyes closing at the contact. A soft moan escaped from
her throat. He was going to die tonight and be reborn again. He
knew it as much as he knew he’d be a long shot to get the team into
the Super Bowl, but then Brett had always been a competitive
underdog. He’d give her a night to remember, a night she’d never
forget, and a night to repeat over and over again.
He’d make her forget Richard or any other
guy ever existed—past, present, and future.
Reaching out for her, he held either side of
her waist and gently lifted her body on top of his. She straddled
him, knees on either side of his thighs, balancing her body with
hands on his shoulders. Her long hair feathered across his chest,
tickling the light brown hair dusting his pecs and rib cage. She
stared down at him, a seductive smile on those sweet lips, and he
loved the contradiction of sweet and sexy.
Tilting her head toward him, she lowered it
until their lips touched. God, her lips felt like wet silk. She
kissed him. Her kisses were alive and passionate, slow and
torturous. Brett buried his fingers in the back of her hair,
threading them through the long strands, and held her mouth to his.
He coaxed her lips open, not that it took much coaxing, and slipped
his tongue inside warm, moist heaven. Her tongue mated with his,
dancing, sparring, teasing, retreating, and he matched her move for
move. His heart pounded in his ears, while his breath came in short
gasps. He deepened the kiss, and she arched above him. Her
midsection scraped across his belly and pressed against his dick,
so hard and primed he was in pain, but a good pain. The type of
pain he’d take any day or night of the week.
He groaned as she teased his cock with her
wet crotch, not giving him a break as their mouths hungrily made
love to each other. She pulled back, gasping for air. He took
advantage of the opportunity and slid his hands down her back,
lifting her high enough to be lip-to-nipple. He took one rosy red
nub in between his lips and sucked like a man needing the type of
nourishment only this particular woman could give.
His nostrils flared as he caught the scent
of her arousal, heady and sweet, powerful beyond words. He kissed a
trail to the opposite nipple, sucking until he was satisfied with
how red and swollen they’d become from his careful administrations.
Estie panted above him, his dick sandwiched between her thighs.
Seeing her so high on him made his cock twitch with need.
Not yet, buddy.
Brett ducked his head again, taking a small
fold of skin near her nipple between his teeth and sucking hard.
She whimpered, but he didn’t stop until he’d marked her as his with
a nice love bite on her soft skin. He added a second bite to the
other breast, wishing he could permanently brand her as his, like
she’d branded herself across his heart with that first smile.
She clutched at his biceps and rubbed her
crotch against his dick. Brett almost smiled, and with a quickness
he usually kept under wraps, he flipped their positions with a move
so smooth, one moment she was on top and the next he was. Her
beautiful lips parted in wonder, as if she couldn’t fathom how he’d
done that.
“Smooth move, huh?” He grinned through
gritted teeth. God, holding back was killing him.
“Really smooth, Romeo. Don’t like being on
the bottom, do you?”
“I like being on the bottom just fine as
long as it’s you on top. Hell, I’d hang from the ceiling upside
down if you’d suck my dick.”
“You want me to suck your dick?” Her
fingernails dug into his shoulders.
“Absolutely. And fuck me. Slow, fast, hard,
soft, anyway you want.”
“We can try all those ways.” Her pupils
dilated, and she pressed those slim hips against him. “Which way do
you want it first?”
“That’s for me to decide this time. You’ll
get your time later.”
“Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“Honey, I’m keeping you any way I can as
long as I can. If it needs to be in suspense, so be it.”
She wrapped those long, heaven-sent legs
around his waist. “Are you still deciding?” The evil vixen grinned
at him. Brett had always prided himself on his control but Estie
was about to blow it out of the water. Not going to happen. This
was his show, not hers. Though he certainly looked forward to her
part of the night’s program.
“Brett,” she rasped in a hoarse whisper.
“Sink your big dick inside me.”
He stared down at her, grinding his jaw in
an attempt to distract himself from the inevitable. He wanted this
to be slow and sexy for her, to be so fucking incredible she’d
never want anyone but him.
But he didn’t know how long he could hold
out, not with her legs wrapped around his waist and her hot pussy
teasing his dick, a dick which demanded release.
“Estie, I want this to be slow for you.”
“Slow can wait. I want you now, Gun. Now,”
she ordered, reminding him of a lieutenant he’d served with.
“Honey, you’re in no position to be giving
me orders, are you?”
The corners of her lips twitched in a
suppressed smile. “No, sir, but perhaps we can work out a mutual
arrangement.”
“I believe we already have.”
“Then just fuck me.”
His body shuddered upon hearing those words
on her sweet red lips. Lust stormed through him hard and fast,
stronger than gale-force winds in the Strait of Juan de Fuca.
“Please.” She pleaded with him, and who was
he to disappoint a beautiful lady, especially this beautiful lady?
Like he could stop himself.
Brett positioned himself between her legs,
his penis pressing against her opening. She reached between their
legs and guided him inside. The lady was in a hurry, but despite
their lack of foreplay, he was determined to draw this out for her
ultimate pleasure—regardless of the physical toll it took on his
body. He pushed inside and his head spun from the sheer erotic
force of being inside this woman. Pressing further inside, he
refused to let her hurry him, but God it was tough, tougher than
trying to throw a touchdown pass against the best defense in the
league.
He might not be an overly tall man, but he
didn’t lack in the dick department, and he had no doubts she’d get
optimum pleasure from his girth and length, or he’d die trying. She
was warm, wet, and tight. Much tighter than he’d ever had imagined,
tighter than any woman he’d ever had, and his dick felt fucking
good inside her tight little cunt. It surrounded him, sheathed him,
welcomed him home.
Brett closed his eyes, bit his lower lip,
and forced himself to go slow, inch by agonizing inch, even as a
woman driven as wild as he was writhed underneath him and attempted
to break his tight control for immediate gratification.
He’d give her gratification, all right. Both
of them. In his own time.
Their sweat-slickened bodies slid against
each other as he pressed himself deeper into a carnal paradise
unlike no other he’d ever felt or would ever feel. With one last
push he was fully buried inside her. She stared at him, their eyes
locked in an ages-old mating ritual, their souls merged as if they
were of the same mind and body. He didn’t know it could be like
this. As he began his slow build of thrusting in and out, she
pushed against him, dug her heels into his back, urging him on.
Brett fought that urge with every bit of iron will he possessed and
some he didn’t know he possessed.
She arched her back, changed the angle of
her hips, and took him even deeper on the next thrust. “Fuck me.
Harder,” she pleaded, her voice taking on a sexy, husky tone.
“Oh, hell, Estie.” His entire body shook
from the strain of holding back. His dick throbbed like hell as he
sank itself time and again into ultimate pleasure. She ground her
crotch against his and nipped at his shoulder. He couldn’t take it
anymore. Rearing back, he withdrew and thrust deep into her,
picking up the pace and intensity with each thrust until he swore
the top of his head would blow off. He came at the exact time she
did, like a perfectly timed ballroom dancing couple. They hit the
finale together, existing in the same place in space and time, as
if they had melded into one in the most fucking incredible way.
He’d never be satisfied with just sex again,
because this spiritual component set the standard and raised the
bar impossibly high.
Estie was his, body, mind, and most of all
soul, and somehow he’d show her just how much they were meant to be
together.
Chapter 11
Estie stared at the ceiling while a million
thoughts bounced off each other inside her skull, like an emotional
game of ping-pong. She reached for Brett’s side of the bed, still
warm from his body, and wrapped her arms around his pillow,
inhaling the unique scent of him, like a woodsy spring day. He’d
gotten up at the crack of dawn to go to Jacks HQ to work out and
watch film with Tyler. She knew the drill. After all, she’d been
Tyler’s sister all his life.
They’d stayed together all night, making
love and talking. She’d told him about Richard’s embezzlement and
his father’s role in all of it.
He’d held back telling her his secrets and
that disturbed her, but she pushed it out of her mind, and they
finally fell into a deep sleep after they fucked each other’s
brains out. She almost smiled. Brett’s breathing had been strong
and steady. In fact, the sounds he made while sleeping comforted
her.
If only she found her confused thoughts
comforting. She shouldn’t be so confused after what they’d just
experienced together, and her uncertainty frustrated her even more.
She walked on air last night until the reality of daylight laid its
heavy hand on her heart.
She’d slept with him
. She’d touched
his naked body, ran her hands over his bare ass, taken his hard
penis in her mouth. And she’d loved every single damn thing they
did together.
Yet…
She already knew that this thing with Brett
would be messy and out of her control. She wouldn’t be able to lead
him around by his dick or force him into a neat, tidy little corner
of her life. She’d thought she’d done that with Richard and look
where that got her. Richard had secrets she’d never suspected. Last
night proved a point. Brett had secrets, too—dangerous, damaging,
messy secrets. Uncontrollable and unpredictable didn’t fit into her
ordered life, even if it was in temporary disorder.
The most profound part of all of it was that
she was going to fuck him again. She couldn’t resist, couldn’t
stop. No twelve-step process would cure her addiction because she
didn’t want a cure, even if the eventual withdrawals would be a
bitch.
She’d see Brett tonight. She’d even
volunteered to cook dinner, like the domesticated couple that they
weren’t.
Part of Estie was flooded with self-doubts,
the part that craved something unplanned and chaotic. It begged to
be released over and over like a bad chant in an away game gone
very wrong. She didn’t want a relationship. She’d just gotten out
of one. She’d break Brett’s heart in the process. He so did not
deserve that. He needed a woman who would always be there for him,
put him first in her life, and be the best wife and mother.
Rubbing her face with her hands, Estie
sighed deeply. She picked up her phone and tapped out a message to
Sylvia. A couple hours later, she walked in the door of the pet
rescue. Her friend took one look at her and pushed her down to sit
in a plastic chair. Sylvia sat across from her.
“Okay, spill it. And don’t leave out any
details.” Once again her friend had read Estie’s mind. Before Estie
could do a brain dump of all her troubles, she spotted a forlorn
Humphrey huddled in a dog bed across the room.
“He still hasn’t snapped out of it?”
“No, not yet. He needs a foster home, and no
one wants such a big dog, even on a temporary basis.”
“I have two dogs, or I’d take him.”
“I know. That’s the story of the poor guy’s
life. I just wish he’d eat something. I’m really concerned.” Sylvia
rubbed her temple and sighed. She turned back to Estie. “But you
didn’t come here to talk about this guy. I think you came here
because of a different guy—the two-legged variety, perhaps?”
“It’s always about the two-legged guys,
isn’t it?”
“It seems to be for both of us.” Her friend
looked away, but not before Estie caught the sadness in her eyes.
Someone had once broken Syl’s heart, but she never talked about
it.