Love Triangle Six Books of Torn Desire - Willow Winters Page 0,399

taking me down with her. I land on top of her with a grunt.

“Are you okay?” I’m frantic as I scan her face, looking for any obvious signs of discomfort, but at the same time trying to think of anything other than the somewhat compromising position we currently find ourselves in.

Heat fills me as a memory comes rushing back, knocking the breath out of me. The summer before I left for college. Pushing Brooklyn on the swing in her front yard. Brooklyn leaping off it and losing her footing, rolling down the hill. Chasing after her, slipping, tumbling down on top of her. Staring at her lips. Pink. Full. Luscious. Unable to control myself as I leaned closer and closer, dying for a taste. It’s like we’re back there, like I’m getting a second chance.

She meets my eyes, her breath coming quicker. The way she’s looking at me makes me think she’s remembering that day, too. She makes no move to get up, seemingly content to stay pinned beneath me. I fear if she moves, she’ll know exactly how much the heat of her body against mine turns me on. I wasn’t this stimulated with Skylar, at least not without some extra effort, even when she was on her knees in front of me. But with Brooklyn… I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this aroused. A tiny voice in my head tells me to retreat, to pull back, to keep my distance, but I’m inexplicably drawn to this woman. I can’t let her go.

“Never better,” she breathes.

“Good.”

“Good,” she repeats, licking her lips as she peers at me. A tendril of hair had escaped her knot and fallen in front of her eyes. Instinctively, I brush it behind her ear, her skin soft. A craving to feel even more of her overwhelming me, I graze my fingers along her cheeks, admiring the freckles dotting her complexion. Brooklyn’s always hated them, but I’ve always loved them. They make her stand out, her beauty unmatched by anyone else.

As I savor the smoothness of her delicate skin, a spark shoots through me, low and deep in my core. Her familiar aroma invades my senses, bringing back even more memories of our times together. Sitting on the beach. Exploring the Common. The feel of her legs wrapped around me when we finally did kiss. God, I love the way she smells, the way she feels, the way she always seems to easily break through every wall I’ve erected without even trying.

My heart pounding in my chest, my gaze focuses on those lips. Lips I’ve watched kiss too many other men when they should have been kissing me all along. Lips I was lucky enough to be the first person to ever kiss. Lips I’ve almost kissed a few times since, but something’s always stopped me. I don’t want anything to stop me now.

“Brooklyn.” I dart my tongue out, forgetting where we are, who we are. All I can think about is getting a taste of what I’ve deprived myself of for too long now. I don’t care that she’s a friend. I don’t care that she’s engaged, although I should. All I care about is feeling her lips on mine.

“Yes,” she exhales, her breath dancing on my mouth, making it tingle with the promise of what’s to come. Her tone isn’t questioning. More like confirmation she wants this, too.

I cup her cheeks, rubbing the pads of my thumbs along the pink flesh of her lips. She plumps them out, her body trembling beneath mine. Every inch of me burning with need, I slowly erase the little space left between us. My heart pounds against my chest, wild and savage. My nerve endings ignite, a fluttering low in my stomach.

“Brooklyn,” I say once more as my lips almost skim hers, giving her one last opportunity to say no.

“Yes.” She closes her eyes, jutting her chin toward me, preparing herself, moistening those perfect lips I’m dying to taste. But I know I won’t be able to stop at just a taste. I’ll need more. Brooklyn isn’t the type of girl you kiss, then forget. Even though I was forced to do just that over sixteen years ago, I never did. How could I? Brooklyn’s the type of girl you love, you cherish. The type of girl who captures your mind, heart, and soul.

I close my eyes, time seeming to stand still. Just as I’m about to finally experience Brooklyn’s kiss, a loud bang reverberates through