She shrugged. “On a rainy Sunday, I’d imagine that we might curl up together and watch a football game or a movie. Sometimes, when I’d cook alone, I’d imagine you in the kitchen with me, nursing a glass of wine, maybe chopping a vegetable or basting meat. And I’d think of you next to me in bed, holding me as we drifted off to sleep.”
Something wistful crossed her delicate face, and Brandon paused. Em’s fantasies weren’t just sexual. They were domestic.
Why didn’t the idea of being that cozy with Em make him panic? He was close to thirty. Maybe he was having some natural instinct to finally settle down. Or was he okay with the idea because he was comfortable with Em? Because he more than liked her?
As he sorted through the tangle of thoughts and emotions, she began trailing a teasing fingertip from his Adam’s apple down his chest, down his abdomen, down to his cock. Before she’d even reached her destination, he’d gone ridiculously hard again. Desire raged like a flash fire through him, heating him from the inside out. Every cell in his body demanded that he get on top of her, get inside her again, and take her once more.
She didn’t help his self-control when she wrapped her small hand around his c**k and stroked so slowly, he shuddered and groaned.
“Jesus, are you trying to undo me?”
Em sent a sly glance up at him from beneath her dark lashes, those hazel eyes sparkling. Something in his chest tightened.
“Is it working?”
Fuck, yes. But since he didn’t feel capable of speaking when her thumb dusted the head of his cock, he just nodded. God, how could she arouse him again so quickly?
“Sometimes, I’d lie in bed and touch myself and imagine your hands gliding over my skin. I’d touch myself and pretend it was you pinching my ni**les, rubbing my clit.”
Brandon rolled to his back, his head hitting the mattress. Her words alone made his blood pressure shoot up fifty points. Right now, he could imagine himself squeezing the rosy tips of her br**sts and toying with that responsive little clit. Her soft, insistent stroking of his c**k was the worst kind of tease.
“Would you touch yourself until you came, baby?” he ground out. Imagining her masturbating to thoughts of him aroused him even more.
“Yes,” she breathed.
He jerked his gaze to her. She f**king glowed—with the satisfaction he’d already given her, with the need for more. He didn’t remember her ever looking more beautiful. In fact, he didn’t remember being this close to a more beautiful woman. Again, he was left to wonder how he’d overlooked her for three years. Was he f**king blind? Granted, Kayla had left his thoughts, and Em had lost the boxy gray suit and efficient braid. Now, she looked relaxed and sexy. But what made her gorgeous to him was more fundamental. She looked so lovely to him because she made him happy.
He froze at the realization.
“And sometimes, I’d close my eyes, use my vibrator, and fantasize that you were giving me that pleasure.”
Oh, hell. She was trying to kill him. “Was the reality like you’d imagined?”
She shook her head, and a kittenish smile tilted up her swollen lips. “It was way better.”
He raised a brow in a silent request for details. She knew him too well not to recognize it.
“You’re human and real. I know how wonderful you are, dedicated and honest. The fact that you seemed to want me finally made it perfect.”
“But?” he prompted. “I heard one in there.”
“Well, you’re, um…large.”
He’d f**ked her like a wild man against the wall. Brandon winced as he took hold of her wrist and stilled her hand. They needed to talk about this before she stroked him past coherent conversation. “Did I hurt you?”
Because if he had, he was going to kick his own ass.
Em hesitated and hedged. “A little. It had just been a while for me, but I’m fine.”
“How long is a while?” Brandon had a sneaking suspicion, and if he was right, he was definitely going to kick his own ass.
“I don’t know exactly, um…”
Bullshit. Em never didn’t know something. She didn’t want to tell him for some reason, and he planned to get to the bottom of it. “More than six months?”
“Yes.”
“More than a year?”