The room filled with the sound of heavy breathing and clothes being removed as our need for one another became clear. I pushed my boxers down mid-thigh as Brynn freed herself of her gown and turned her back toward me the second the material fell to the tiled floor. She leaned over the sink, planting both palms flat against the mirror. Her eyes caught mine in the reflection and all I saw was desire there.
Standing behind her, I surveyed her body, trailing my eyes down her spine. My hands gripped her, fitting perfectly at the bend of her waist, in that space where beautiful hips flared outward, leading down to parted legs.
I entered her rough, but only because that's the way she wanted it. She pushed her hips backwards into me, forcing me balls-deep from the first stroke. She whimpered with pleasure and I pushed inside again, reveling in the wet friction as her tight pussy yielded to the curve of my dick.
In the mirror's reflection, large tits bounced and swayed back and forth to my rhythm. Unable to help myself, I took one, feeling the heated flesh against the palm of my hand as I sank my dick deeper inside her, digging as deep as I possibly could.
The sound of the moisture between her legs reminded me of wet kisses and I got even more turned on listening to it, listening to the evidence of how much she wanted this. My balls smacked against her skin every time I thrusted and this became the soundtrack that filled the cramped space.
Long lashes fluttered closed and her glossed lips parted. One hand fell away from the mirror she used to brace herself and I watched as she pushed it between her legs, moving her fingers in quick circles as she played with her clit.
Why did she look so damn good touching herself?
The head of my dick tingled as a jolt of pleasure shot up my shaft. My senses all became heightened in an instant and I was more aware of everything-the dusky scent of her sex in the air, the sound of her soft, breathy moans, the tiny beads of sweat forming on her back. I could see them glistening even through the darkness.
Those once quiet moans grew louder and I squeezed her breast in my hand. She worked her fingers faster between her legs and I watched, plowing into her deeper, faster, harder as she came. Her juices soaked me and the sensation was my undoing. I felt the moment my seed shot inside her as her walls continued to constrict and release around me. It rendered me speechless and I could barely even move. The sweet, sexy cry that passed through her lips rivaled the volume of the grunt that left mine.
I heard our conversation from earlier ring in my thoughts and it was on the tip of my tongue to settle this once and for all. I was tired of holding in how I felt. I was tired of holding back for fear of her thinking I wasn't good enough. I was tired of not owning the fact that I couldn't think of anyone else in the world I wanted to be going through this with.
She turned to face me and my hands moved over her naked body, settling at her waist when she kissed me deep, making me feel her all the way down in my soul. Those words almost slipped out again, but this time I was able to hold them in. There was a possibility she might not readily say it back and that would only ruin the moment. I mean, I suspected she felt the same way I did, but then there was always this sense that she was holding back for some reason. That's why I didn't want to risk it. That's why I chose to keep my feelings to myself.
So, for now, I let myself believe this was enough.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Brynn
Several kisses being placed on my shoulder roused my eyes open a few minutes ago. Waking up in the solid arms of a fully nude man, feeling the heat of a bare chest pressed to my back, firm thighs warming the backs of my own-it was almost enough to make me say to hell with whatever plans I had for the day. However, that wasn't an option because I heard movement in the bedroom down the hall where Naseem had crashed the night before.
He had never been much of a drinker, so for Marco to find him so far gone last night, something had to be wrong. And seeing as how we hadn't spoken in nearly two months now, I hadn't the slightest clue what that something might be.
Marco didn't try to hold me when I slipped out of his arms, but I was sure he would've if he hadn't already known where I was headed. Our evening ended with us showering together and clothes felt unnecessary after that. Now, as I scrambled to find something to put on, I realized that probably hadn't been the wisest thing. If Naseem had needed something last night, neither Marco nor I would've been ready.
The first thing I found to put on was a light-turquoise v-neck and maternity jeans, the kind with the stretchy, cotton lining in the front. Groaning a bit as I bent to slide my legs into them, I eventually looked presentable enough to go see about Naseem.
"I'll be right back," I said, turning to Marco before I stepped out into the hallway.
A call came through to his phone just as I was leaving and it sounded like business. The timing was perfect; he could handle that while I dealt with Naseem.
As I left, there was nothing in Marco's expression indicating that he took issue with me checking in on Naseem. I liked that he had confidence in my judgment, my character. Considering that he knew of my involvement with Naseem before he came into the picture, he could've easily been jealous or suspicious that I harbored some type of feelings, but I never got that from him. I never felt like he didn't trust me.
A string of words came back to mind-a string of words that contained three short ones in particular that had me wondering where Marco and I were really headed. In a roundabout way, he said he loved me, but the ‘roundabout' part was where things got confusing. And on top of that, he hadn't brought it up again to clarify, so I assumed I read too much into it. Besides, love? There was no way he felt that way about me. We weren't there yet.
At least that's what I told myself every time I felt that little tug in my heart at even the thought of his name.
That's what I told myself when he'd call just to check on me and I couldn't stop smiling.
That's what I told myself whenever we were together and his emotions, whatever coursed through his veins, bled right through my skin and seeped down into my bones. That's how deeply he touched me. That's how deep my feelings for him ran.
Still, I'd been on a mission to stop letting myself believe that what we had was more. Despite how easy things seemed to flow when we were together, the truth of the matter was: Marco and I were complicated.
For one, I hadn't forgotten how he earned a good portion of his living and I'm woman enough to admit that I'm still bothered by it-no matter how good things are going. In a sense, the night I visited him at the club had opened my eyes in many ways. It brought his reality right to my face where I couldn't ignore the nature of his job. His dance was sexy, it was alluring, it was … a fantasy. A fantasy that didn't belong to me alone.
That performance was almost two months ago, which means that, since me, there had been at least one other woman in that seat on stage with him. She'd been given a show, had been given nearly full access to the man currently in command of my heart. I was sure that she, too, wanted him and was made to feel like she had him all to herself.
Because that's what he does for a living. Making women want him was his superpower.
But the truth was … no one truly had Marco Rios all to themselves. Including me. And call me selfish, but I wasn't okay with that.
This was one hell of a pill to swallow.
Approaching the door, the sound in Naseem's room had ceased but I knew he hadn't gone anywhere. For one, he had no means of transportation at the moment-with his car and keys still being at the bar from last night.
When I knocked at the door, it was so soft and I thought he might not have heard, but then a somber, "Come in," let me know I was wrong about that.
I entered with my head down because, despite being angry with Naseem when everything happened, I also felt like this had gone on for too long. And that was on both of us. We should've been better than this and I had to take responsibility for not reaching out to him either. We were both at fault, but maybe in different ways.
His hazel eyes appeared dim this morning as I looked into them. There was something behind that stare when he glanced up from where he sat on the edge of the bed. The darkness wasn't anger or anything of the sort; I detected it was sadness.
"How're you feeling?" I asked, noticing the glass of water I left him last night was now empty.
Pursing his lips into a thin line, he shrugged, the tips of his loose, black curls dusting his shoulders when he did. I came from around the door completely and moved closer.
Naseem's gaze quickly drifted down to my midsection, most likely noting how much more prominent it was now compared to when he'd last seen me. A couple months had changed me a lot, but not just physically. For one, while I still took Naseem's feelings into consideration, I was owning the fact that Marco and I were definitely closer than before-although, I admit to being unsure of what that meant entirely. However, if Naseem and I were ever going to mend this rift in our friendship, I wanted us to both be comfortable being open. So, if Marco and I did decide to be more, I hoped Naseem could respect that.