Time of Possession (Seattle Lumberjacks #5) (21 page)

“That’s my plan.”

“Mine, too.” Zach nodded, staring long and
hard at Brett. With a satisfied nod, he left Brett staring after
him in the parking lot.

* * * * *

Estie never quite dazzled with her skills in
the kitchen, but she was a passable cook, and tonight she outdid
herself with garlic chicken, parmesan Yukon Gold potatoes, and a
Caesar salad. Not necessarily fancy, and she suspected Brett would
love a can of chili as long as she cooked it.

As soon as he texted that he was on his way,
she started cooking the meal she painstakingly prepped earlier in
the afternoon. Dozer watched her with one eye open from his dog bed
in front of the fire. Marilyn sat nearby waiting to pick up crumbs
should any fall her way. Risky settled on the dog bed against
Dozer, his new best buddy and security blanket. Blackjack, being
old and cranky, stayed downstairs asleep on Brett’s bed. Across the
room, Spock and Jim harassed Bongo, eyeing him from their perches
on the back of the coach and recliner. Bongo took exception to the
cats and erupted into a litany of curses against the cats and all
felines in general.

Estie couldn’t help laughing. This was their
little family, and she loved it as much as any parents loved their
two-legged children.

Their family? Hers and Brett’s?
It
wasn’t as if they were an actual couple, even if she’d been playing
house with the man the past twenty-four hours.

Brett’s SUV rumbled to a stop outside, and
Estie’s heart rate accelerated like a plane on takeoff. She wiped
her hands quickly on a towel and hustled to the door, nudging
excited animals out of the way and closing her ears to Bongo’s
obscenities. Yanking open the door, she threw herself into a
surprised Brett’s arms. He staggered back a step, obviously not
expecting to be hit by a female wrecking ball. Recovering quickly,
he wrapped her in his arms, buried his fingers in her thick hair
and kissed her with so much possessive passion that she clung to
his shoulders to keep from collapsing on the floor.

God, that man could kiss, and Estie lost
herself in the kiss, pretending his homecoming would be a normal
occurrence, not just a temporary aberration from their lonely
lives. She closed her eyes and reached out to his very soul,
pressing against his strong chest and narrow hips, while their
tongues mated and their bodies strained to do the same.

Brett broke off the kiss first. His eyes lit
up with pure joy. She loved being the woman who put that joy there
and erased the sadness. He deserved happiness and so much more.

Grasping her hand, Brett sniffed the air.
“Something smells good.”

“I’m testing my culinary skills.”

“Smells great to me.” He bent to pet
Marilyn’s blond head. She’d been bumping him with her nose the
second he’d walked in the door demanding the center of attention.
Risky slinked to Brett’s side and leaned against his leg.

“They’re happy to see you.” Estie loved how
he treated his animals like family.

“Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Go home.”
Bongo jabbered and jumped from perch to perch, flapping his wings
and being his usual drama king self.

“Well, except for him,” Brett chuckled.

“He’s happy being unhappy.”

Brett put his arm around her waist, and they
strolled into the living room, just like a real couple. Their
little band of animals dogged their heels. Estie brought a hand to
her mouth and touched her lips, still feeling his presence there
deep down to her soul.

Dinner was a huge success, judging by the
third helping Brett ate. He helped her clean up the kitchen and
soon they were sitting on the couch making out like two high school
kids while several sets of eyes watched them. Brett pushed her down
on the couch and was copping a feel when Marilyn pushed her nose in
between them. They ignored her.

Brett slid his hand up her shirt. He pushed
up her bra and cupped her breast, gently pinching her nipple. Estie
gripped the back of his t-shirt. She craved his touch, needed his
special brand of loving like she needed an umbrella on a rainy
day.

“Get some. Get some. Get some.” Bongo made
his opinion known.

Spock sat on the arm of the chair and
flicked his tail across Estie’s forehead while Jim batted at her
hair falling down the side of the couch, and Risky licked her
cheek. Estie tried to block them out as she kissed the hell out of
Brett.

“Bongo wants the pretty lady.” Bongo started
singing, adding his own weird twist and nonsensical words. “Bongo
loves Bongo. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck the pretty lady.”

Brett pulled away and shook his head. “This
is just plain weird.” His eyes were glazed with lust, his chest
heaving, and his mouth moist from her kisses. She stared up at him
in a daze and tried to wrap her brain around his words to make
sense of them.

“No shit.”

“They’re watching. Hell, they’re right in
the middle of us.” Brett’s weight moved off her, and he sat up.

Estie pulled down her shirt and sat up, too.
“I guess they want a piece of the action.”

“They’ll never get a piece of this action.
Never.” Brett chuckled.

“Let’s go somewhere private.”

“Brilliant idea.” Brett scooped her up in
his arms as if she weighed nothing. He carried her to the bedroom,
slamming the door with his foot before Marilyn and Risky could
follow.

Brett tossed her on the bed, and she bounced
a few times. He laughed as he fell onto the mattress beside her.
Then they were all over each other like a pair of horny teenagers
with clothes flying. Estie dragged her mouth from his and crawled
down his hard body, noting a scar here and there, tracing a couple
tattoos with her tongue. Brett lay absolutely still, other than his
heavy breathing, and gripped the comforter.

Estie heard a whine at the door followed by
a scratch. In the distance, Bongo rattled on, “Bad dog. Bad, bad
dog. I hate cats. I hate fucking cats.”

She shoved them out of her mind. Tonight was
about Brett and her, not their furry babies. Pausing, she ran her
tongue around one of his nipples, and Brett sucked in a breath
through his teeth. A fine sheen of sweat stood out on his chest.
Estie smiled to herself. She knew how to push this man’s buttons,
and she loved the power, loved the rush of knowing he adored her,
loved how his body responded to even her slightest touch.

Continuing her downward journey, she paused
long enough to lick his navel then blow on it.

“Oh, fuck.” Brett buried his fingers in her
hair and groaned like a man in exquisite pain or, more likely,
pleasure.

Estie wasn’t done yet. He’d be putty in her
hands before the night was over. She cupped his balls and squeezed
gently as she licked his hard shaft. She glanced up at him. His
entire face was screwed up in ecstatic agony. A pulse pounded in
his neck while he clenched his jaw so hard she hoped it didn’t
shatter from the pressure.

“You’re killing me.” He ground out.

“I guess I’m just homicidal.”

“You can commit a crime against me any day
of the week, honey.”

She wasn’t the only one committing the
crimes. He’d stolen her heart, and she doubted she’d ever recover
it if she even wanted to.

Estie bent her head and took his penis in
one hand while she went down on him. She licked the tip and then
took him in her mouth until he was at the back of her throat. She
didn’t have any experience deep-throating and the second she
started to gag she backed off a little. Brett didn’t seem to mind
how deep she took him as long as she took him. She bobbed her head
up and down on him several times until he grabbed her shoulders and
pulled her off.

“I can’t fucking take any more. I need to be
buried deep inside you.”

“I can accommodate that.” Estie needed him,
too, like Seattle needed rain, like salmon needed water, like the
earth needed oxygen. She crawled up his body, dragging her skin
against his, torturing him all the while and reveling in her
power.

Estie ripped open a condom package from the
box on the nightstand, a box that they’d made a considerable dent
in since they’d purchased it last Sunday morning. She took her time
rolling it down his dick, enjoying how it twitched and seemed to
get even harder, if that was physically possible.

Straddling Brett’s body, she lifted her hips
and guided her pussy onto his dick. Brett angled his hips to push
deeper inside her until he was fully buried. Estie leaned forward
and kissed him, and he kissed her back with intensity of a starving
man. Slow, deep, tender, his kisses consumed her and touched her in
places she’d never been touched before, physically and
emotionally.

She moved up and down on him, forcing her
fevered body into a slow, even, and tortuous rhythm. Finally she
leaned back and the emotions barreled over her in the greatest
emotional rush of all time, like free-falling from an airplane
—exhilarating, exciting, and scary as hell. Brett came at the same
time. She could feel him inside her, not just his cock, but
everything he was and ever would be.

Everything they could be together flashed
through her brain with alarming clarity as they held each other
through the powerful orgasm.

When the storm of emotions subsided, Estie
fell against Brett, their bodies spent and sweaty, chests heaving
in the same out-of-breath rhythm, skin super sensitized. Laying her
cheek against his she closed her eyes and let herself just
be
. For a long while, the only sound was their breathing and
an occasional whine or scratch at the door.

Brett was so quiet she thought he must have
fallen asleep. Bracing herself on her elbow she lifted up and
looked at his dear face. He wasn’t asleep.

With a half smile, he stared into her eyes,
and she saw it all there. He adored her, but would he love her with
all her baggage, all her control issues, rigid planning,
everything? Could he truly just love
her?
Or did he love
some perfect aberration that only existed in his mind?

Could she love him unconditionally? Could
she give it all back to him? Or would she shatter his heart and his
soul?

“Brett, I—”

Brett held a finger to her lips. “There’s a
cliché in football, Estie: take the season one game at a time.
Let’s do that for now.”

“Live in the moment?”

“Yeah, in the moment.” His pale blue eyes
lit up and his megawatt smile would’ve put her brother to shame.
Even so, that sadness lingered on edge of his upturned lips and
behind the sparkles in his eyes.

His sadness squeezed her heart, and denial
didn’t work for her anymore. She was exactly where she needed to
be.

Living in the moment wasn’t good enough, not
for her and definitely not for him. She knew that, as sure as she
knew her feelings for Brett couldn’t be ignored any longer. But
could she handle the messiness, the dark secrets inside him? And
what about her future? What about becoming a veterinarian? That was
looking more and more like a viable option. Where did that leave
them, if she went to vet school and he signed with another
team?

Right now she didn’t give a damn.

* * * * *

Brett lay in bed and stared at his eyelids,
not wanting to open his eyes, not wanting to break the spell, all
due to an incredible loving woman cuddled next to him. Her naked
skin pressed close to his, all silky smooth and warm. He ran a hand
down her back and cupped her rounded ass. God, she felt good in his
hands, against his body, skin to skin, heart to heart, mind to
mind, and she’d felt even better when he’d been inside her, taking
her slow and easy or hard and fast. Yeah, they’d done both last
night. He’d fallen into an exhausted sleep then woken in the middle
of the night for the second half of the game. Only it wasn’t a
game, not to Brett. What he felt for Estie went far beyond any game
he’d ever played in.

Estie stirred beside him, and he smiled down
at her, stroking her hair with one hand and squeezing her bare hip
with the other. She blinked several times, smiled up at him, and
rested her cheek on his chest with the top of her head grazing his
chin. Everything felt so good, so right, so fucking incredible.

Something weighed heavily on his feet. At
some point in the middle of the night Marilyn had crawled onto the
bed, while Jim purred into his ear on the pillow next to him. Brett
had to smile. He’d been doing a lot of that lately, and frankly, he
liked it. Really, really liked it. Just like he liked how good
Estie made him feel just by being in the same room with him. The
emptiness he’d lived with for the majority of his life faded away
as she filled in the blank spaces.

“Good morning,” he whispered, his voice
sounding husky to his own ears.

“Good morning.” Her soft, sexy voice got a
rise out of him. His morning wood jumped back into the ring, ready
for another round, and it wasn’t the only part of him that was
ready.

Estie trailed little kisses along his
collarbone, and he shuddered. God, she did it for him. He kissed
the top of her head and kneaded her ass with his fingers.

She rose up, her elbows on his chest, and
stared him in the eyes. Her deep blue eyes shone with
determination, and he knew something had changed, but he sure as
hell didn’t know what.

“What is it?”

“It’s you.” Her eyes lit up with a dazzling
inner sparkle. She ran a finger across his cheek, her touch feather
light.

“Me?”

“Yes, you, Brett Gunnels. You are one
amazing, wonderful man, and I don’t know what I did right to
deserve you, but I swear to God I won’t screw up this gift. Not
this time.”

“I see.” Actually, he didn’t. In fact, he
was a little confused but more than a lot hopeful.

“I doubt you do, but you will.” Her smile
radiated with promises, promises of a future he’d only dared dream.
Already his brain played a video of a little house in the country
full of kids and animals.