All or Nothing(26)

I’d been itching for a fight when she’d disappeared on me after breakfast and I’d had to run all around town to find her, but the loneliness on her face made all my anger and frustration fizzle away.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

She didn’t look at me but kept her eyes trained on the portrait. “I’m making a list of the supplies I’ll need to fix the mural. It shouldn’t be too bad.” She grimaced. “Not that there’s any rush. Mom’s not coming tonight. Probably not ever.”

“I’m sorry.” I wished I were surprised, damn it, but Aubree’s mom always let her down. The surprise would have been if the woman had actually shown up tonight.

She swallowed and swiped at her cheeks. “It’s no big. I should have listened to you and everyone else. It was silly to think this year would be any different. But with Paris…”

Here I was, overwhelmed with too much attention from my parents, and Bree had none of that. Her dad was always traveling on business, and her mother did nothing but let her down.

I used to think her lucky. She’d been able to live her life without them hovering all the time. But maybe I was the lucky one. At least my parents cared enough to hover.

I closed the space between us until I was standing over her, her sweet face tilted up to me. God, I wanted to kiss her again. I’d spent all morning thinking about those lips, looking for her in the crowd, thinking of sneaking away and taking her with me. When she disappeared after breakfast, I thought maybe she was having second thoughts about us, about what we’d done last night.

“It’s okay to be angry with her, Bree.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Of course. She’s a little self-involved, but it’s not like she’s abusive or something. Lots of kids suffer much worse at the hands of their parents.”

“True. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve your anger.”

She had this smudge of golden chalk on her cheek, and I wiped it away with my thumb. Her eyes fluttered shut at the touch.

“She doesn’t,” she murmured. “She gives me everything I need. She’s going to buy me a place in Paris, for God’s sake. I’m lucky.”

“I’m not sure anyone has ever given you what you need.” I dipped my head and pressed my lips to hers, relishing her soft sigh against my lips. “Tell me what I can do for you,” I whispered against her lips. “Tell me what you want. It’s yours.”

A hiss escaped my lips as her hand slid into the waistband of my jeans. Before I realized what she had in mind, she was unbuttoning my pants and pushing them from my hips. She sank to her knees as she tugged them down, her lips parted and kiss-swollen, her eyes wide and smoky, her tongue darting out to wet her lip.

“Bree,” I moaned. “Get your ass back up here.”

“You asked what I wanted,” she murmured. She took me into her hand and moved over me with one long, self-assured stroke. I staggered back against the wall at the feel of her hand on me, her breath so close it teased the head of my cock.

Then she was parting her lips and opening her mouth against me. She took me in slowly, just the head at first, circling it with her tongue before moving deeper. Centimeter by deliciously painful centimeter, she took my shaft into her mouth. It was all I could do not to jut out my hips and push myself deeper. I pressed my palms against the wall, praying for self-control. Then in one long, slick movement, she was taking me deep in her mouth and I couldn’t stop my hands from tangling in her hair.

I kept my eyes opened. I had to remember this. Bree on her knees before me, her lips swollen, sliding over me, her mouth hot as she sucked me deep.

“Stop, baby.” I was too close.

She pulled back, replacing her mouth with her hand. “Let me finish,” she whispered.

I growled. Pulling her up, I took her mouth and seduced her with my lips. My body throbbed—I was so close—but I wanted to be inside her when I came. Slowly, I removed her tank then slipped her jeans from her hips. After grabbing the condom from my jeans, I led her to the couch and pulled her onto my lap.

I kissed her slowly, and when she pressed close and tried to change my tempo, I didn’t waver. When her hands moved against the hot skin of my abdomen, I held steady.

She tasted like hot cocoa and felt like heaven. She was the warmth on the cold day, the sunshine breaking through the gloom. And I didn’t know how to be any of that for her. So I kissed her until she was breathless and open. I kissed her until she stopped trying and started being. Until she softened beneath me, as open and vulnerable as this ache in my chest made me feel.