Bidding on Brooks: The Winslow Brothers #1 (18 page)

Even if Brooks went to Princeton regularly, even if he changed his whole life to try to get ahead of whatever had buried his father, in the end…there were still no guarantees.

Skye wasn’t on the
Zephyr.

She knew this because she’d become accustomed to the gentle rocking motion of sleeping on the Cutter. And she wasn’t rocking, wasn’t in motion. She was warm, snuggled under soft, sweet smelling covers, and something was pushing—not unpleasantly, but insistently—against her backside.

Eyes still closed, she grinned.

Brooks.

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked down at his tan, muscular arm slung over her waist, anchoring her to him. He said he couldn’t offer her anything, but he’d saved her life yesterday with little thought for his own safety. He told her he was crazy about her and she’d responded in kind.

Regardless of his protestations, in her heart she didn’t believe that things would end between them in two days. She understood that Brooks had reasons for being cautious when it came to commitment, but his actions yesterday proved that he cared for her deeply, and for Skye, it was enough. She wasn’t going to hold back anymore.

Her heart brimming with love for him, she turned in his arms, her nose almost touching his, his breath warm on her lips.

“Good morning,” he mumbled without opening his eyes, pulling her closer so that her breasts were flush against his chest, and his nose nuzzled hers.

“Good morning,” she said, pushing her hips forward just a touch, so that his erection poked at her softness.

His eyes opened, sea-green and dark, skewering hers as he leaned away. “Don’t tease me.”

She moved her hips again to cradle him, and then threw one leg over both of his. “I’m not.”

“You’re not?” he asked, rolling her to her back and shifting his body to cover hers.

“Nope.”

He searched her eyes, his breathing quick and shallow as he hardened like stone against her, pulsing and strong. “Just to be clear…you’re
not
teasing me.”

She shook her head, her cheeks flushing with heat as she met his eyes. “I’m not teasing you. I’ve always wanted you. But after yesterday, I—”

He dipped his head to kiss her lips, then pulled away, cocking his head to the side, his eyes sparkling but slightly confused. “Always?”

“Always,” she admitted, feeling naked even though she was still wearing pajamas. She grinned sheepishly, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth. “Since the day I watched you sail away on the Primrose.”

“You were only ten,” he said, a slow, sexy smile spreading across his face.

“And you were perfect,” she said.

“I was a cocky teenager.”

“No,” she said, smiling back at him. “You said hi to me even though I was just a little kid, and the way you handled that sailboat?” She sighed dramatically.

“All this time?”

“Mm-hm,” she murmured.

“What about Pat?”

“I was lonesome.” She shrugged, looking away for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “And you didn’t see me as a girl.”

“That’s because I’m an idiot, skip.”

She laughed softly, nodding. “True.”

“Forgive me?”

“Forgive the man who jumped into a storm to save my life?” She didn’t expect her eyes to brighten with tears, and she blinked to hold them back, managing a smile for him. “Hmm. Let me think it over.”

“I’m going to figure it out,” he said in a rush. “Give me a little time, okay?”

“Figure what out?”

“You and me,” he murmured.

She gasped quietly, cutting her eyes to his, rocked to her core by his words. Though she suspected that he cared more deeply for her than he let on, she hadn’t expected this. Her heart throbbed with love and relief, and her eyes swam with tears of hope and happiness.

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it,” she whispered.

“I mean it, skip. I want us to be together. I just…” He reached up to cup her cheeks with his hands. “I’m weak and selfish, but God help me, I
can’t
let you go.”

***

He lowered his lips to hers, parting them insistently and finding her tongue, a bolt of lightning shooting from his mouth to his groin as the velvet softness slid against his. He groaned, his hands skimming down her throat, caressing her shoulders, finally bracketing her breasts from either side as he kissed her. Her hands were tangled in his hair, her nails razing his scalp then relaxing as their kiss deepened, and he pushed his hips against hers, almost shuddering when she arched her back to meet him.

He wanted her, but even more, he
needed
her. Like the wind and the water, she was a part of him, and he needed to belong to her. The feeling was exhilarating and even a little frightening, because in the whole of Brooks Winslow’s adult life, he hadn’t shared his body with someone he cared for…with someone he loved. Coupling with Skye wouldn’t be about meeting a physical need before exchanging cash and saying “goodnight.” No, being with Skye this morning was about love and trust and committing to a different kind of life so that he endeavored to deserve her. Being with Skye, he hoped, was just the beginning of something that would last for the rest of his life, however long that turned out to be.

Leaning back from her, he knelt between her legs, and she sat up, quickly pulling her T-shirt over her head and throwing it to the floor. Both bare chested, Brooks still wore his boxers and Skye had on a skimpy pair of soft pink shorts. She reached for the waistband of his underwear, holding his eyes, her chest heaving lightly with her breathing. His eyes dropped to the dusty pink points of her breasts which moved up and down slowly, tantalizingly, teasing him with their soft sweetness.

“Take these off,” she whispered, her eyes dark and heavy as she looked up at him.

Slipping his thumbs into the waistband, he pulled, but the material caught on his erection and Skye reached forward, her hand slipping into his boxers, her fingers wrapping around his length as he pushed the boxers to his knees.

“Ohhh,” she gasped on an exhaled breath, looking down at the hard, throbbing erection in her hand. Wrapped around his width, her fingers barely met, and he cut his eyes to her face to read her expression. Was he what she wanted?

She wetted her lips as her thumb swiped over the ruby head of his shaft, making smooth, slow circles that made his breath catch and hold, the muscles in his chest tight, wondering what she’d do next.

Raising her eyes to his, she smiled, placing her free hand flat on his chest and pushing him back. “Lie down.”

He leaned back, his head resting at the very foot of the bed as she pulled his boxers down his legs. Kneeling there with those lovely, teasing little pink shorts still hiding the part of her he most wanted to see, she said, “Close your eyes.”

And though he wanted to keep them open, her hand still curled around the base of his sex started to move, and there wasn’t anything she could ask that he would deny her. Clenching his eyes tightly shut, he tried to breathe as she bathed her hand in his pre-cum and used the slickness to rub up and down his erection. He groaned, throwing one arm over his eyes while the other still lay on his chest. When he felt her hair brush against his abs and across the back of his hand, he tensed in anticipation, holding his breath, and then almost bucking off the bed when he felt the hot, wet warmth of her mouth surrounding him inch by inch.

He reached for her head, caressing her golden hair gently as she sucked his entire length into her mouth, massaging him gently, swirling her tongue around the slick knob, and then taking him deep again. He felt the gathering, the sharp, thrumming, tightening throb building low in his center and tensed his muscles to slow down his reaction, but he cared for her so much, and she was milking him with every suck, every stroke.

“Skye…” he gasped, lowering his arm and opening his eyes. There were stars in the frame of his vision as he stared at the ceiling before looking down at her blonde head. “Skye, you have to stop, or I’ll…”

Her lips dragged up his length and she looked at him, her lips red and glistening, her eyes tender.

“It’s okay, Brooks,” she said gently, then—still holding his eyes—she took him deep again.

It was her eyes.

It was the intimacy of her sweet eyes holding his while her lips skimmed down the length of his cock.

He bucked off the bed and came with a roar, his sex tensing and pulsing into her mouth as she swallowed his essence, his hands buried in her hair, his decimated heart overflowing with the kind of love he swore he’d never, ever allow himself to feel.

Still shuddering with aftershocks, a laugh started deep in his belly and sailed up to his lips where it released in a soft, joyful sound of surrender. Skye slid up his body, her tight nipples dragging against his skin until her face hovered over his—so beautiful, his eyes acknowledged that there was nothing else in the world that could compare.

He smoothed her hair away from her face and pulled her lips down to his, tasting himself on her tongue which made him twitch and harden, though so recently spent. He kissed her with passion and with gratitude for her kindness and patience, her selflessness and sass. He loved her heart and her soul, and was desperate to love her body as thoroughly and intimately as she had just loved his.

Slipping his thumbs into her waistband, he pushed insistently, and she wiggled them over her ass and down her legs, kicking them off. Brooks rolled her over, onto her back. He wanted to see her—all of her—to drink in the sight of her naked body on the bed, to memorize the curves and dips and valleys, soft hips, slick core, waiting heat.

She was a contrast of colors—tan legs, tan arms, tan face and neck, with snow white thighs and belly. He grinned at her because this wasn’t the body of a sunbathing beauty, but of a sailor; someone who wore shorts and T-shirts and worked for a living, and he loved it because it was so perfectly her. On her flat, soft belly was a tan birthmark, about the size of a silver dollar, in the shape of an almost-perfect cloud. He swiped it gently with his thumb, and then lowered his lips to kiss it gently.

“You have a cloud on your tummy,” he said, grinning up at her.

She nodded. “Mm-hm. My body’s the sky.”

“Your name.”

“That’s how I got it.”

“I love that.”

“I’m glad,” she said, tilting her head to the side and smiling down at him.

His eyes darkened, giving her the same command she’d given him, “Close your eyes.”

Brooks kissed a trail from the little cloud to the neat patch of white-blonde hair between her thighs. He leaned forward, between her legs, pressing soft, sweet kisses to the smooth skin of her thighs, moving closer and closer to the heat at her core. Spreading her lips with his fingers, he gently nuzzled her clit, his erection throbbing from the honey-tangy scent of her sex, as he lapped at her clit. She gasped, whimpering softly as he licked her in soft, long strokes, and then circled the stiff nub of pink flesh with his tongue. Her hips bucked and she moaned, her fingers curling in the sheets on either side of his head as his tongue moved faster, then slower, in long strokes, then short sucks. Her breathing changed from shallow to panting and she whimpered his name, her hand landing on his shoulder.

He reached for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers as she tensed, her hips rising off the bed and her muscles clenching before her body exploded into waves of shuddering, trembling pleasure. She gasped then exhaled long, a light “ahhh” sound, like music in his ears as her fingers tightened around his, and he licked her softly one last time before sliding up the length of her body to look at her face.

Her neck was bent back, her eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Brooks was stunned by her responsiveness to him, her trust, and her release. Dropping his lips to hers, he kissed her longingly, gently, easing her lip from her teeth so that he could love it as her body jerked and trembled lightly under the weight of his body.

He was hard and hot, and God, how he wanted her, but he thought of her words two nights ago
…hold something back.

As much as he wanted to make love to her, he didn’t want to pressure her into giving him something she wasn’t ready to offer.

He reached back for the pillows, plumping them then laying back, and Skye scooted up to lay beside him, her head heavy on his chest, near his heart. He reached down and pulled a sheet over them, stroking her hair gently while a warm breeze blew the curtains away from the French doors that led to the balcony.

“Brooks?” she said.

“Mmm?”

“That was…amazing.”

He laughed softly, dipping his head to kiss the crown of her head before leaning back again. “I agree.”

“We can…” Her voice trailed off, and she shifted slightly, her hand on his chest, her breasts heavy, crushed against his pecs as she looked up at him. “Do you want to…keep going?”

“Do you?” he asked, looking deeply into her eyes.

“Part of me does,” she answered.

“But maybe part of you’s not totally ready?” he asked, caressing her cheek.

“I…I want to be ready,” she whispered. “But there’s something going on in your life that you’re keeping from me, that wants to keep us apart. I just wish I knew what it was.”