Wild Man (Dream Man #2)(117)

My heart started hammering in my chest and I whispered, “Now?”

“Now,” he stated firmly.

I stared at my desk.

“Tess?”

I kept staring at my desk.

“Baby, you there?”

I kept right on staring at my desk.

“Tess, baby, talk to me.”

The joyful sob hitched audibly in my throat before I declared, “You better drink champagne tonight.”

Brock was silent then he said gently, “I take it I’m movin’ in.”

“Fuck yes!” I cried then another happy sob hitched audibly in my throat.

Brock expressed his happiness through a deep chuckle.

I swiped at my wet cheeks and told him, “I wish this wasn’t happening over the phone so I could kiss you.”

“You can kiss me tonight.”

“Hard,” I clarified.

“Hard,” he rumbled through another chuckle.

I sucked in a calming breath. Then I whispered, “I love you.”

“Yeah, sweetness, me too.”

“I’ll get this over to your attorneys.”

“Appreciate it.”

“See you tonight.”

“Absolutely.”

“Bye, honey.”

“Later, babe.”

Then we disconnected.

I stared at the envelope and folder.

Then I put my phone on the desk, looked to the door and shouted, “Martha!”

* * * * *

“Brock,” I breathed then his mouth went away, I whimpered my protest but his hands went to my hips, rolled me to my belly, they went back to my h*ps then he hauled me up to my knees.

Then he was between them. Then, instead of his tongue darting inside me, his c**k thrust there.

My head flew back and I went up to my hands, totally in the zone, totally loving this, totally not thinking of Olivia at all.

He kept thrusting as his hands slid from my hips, up my waist, in, over my ribs to cup my br**sts then he tugged on my ni**les and that felt f**king great so I moaned.

“Love your tits,” he grunted, still pounding hard and deep.

“Baby,” I whispered.

His hands slid back to my hips, clenched my flesh and pulled them in to meet his thrusts.

“Love this cunt,” he growled.

“Oh my God,” I gasped.

“Hurry, sweetness,” he urged, voice thick.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

The pounding got faster, harder, his hands jerking my h*ps back to meet each one.

“Hurry, baby,” he semi-repeated, his voice now hoarse but he didn’t have to say it. I was hurrying, so much, I’d hurried and it was on me.

“Brock,” I breathed then gasped then moaned, back arching to the bed, ass to the ceiling as it thundered through me.

“Fuck yeah,” he grunted, going deeper, harder, faster, five thrusts then he was there, joining me.

When we were coming down, silently and gently, he moved in and out and, silently and happily, I let him and enjoyed every stroke.

After awhile, he pulled out then his hands glided down my sides and in, pulling me up in front of him until I was on my knees, my back pressed to his front. Then his fingers fisted in the little, slinky, sexy dress that Brock liked, like, a lot, that was bunched at my waist and he pulled it up. I lifted my arms for him; he yanked it free and tossed it to the side of the bed.

Then his face went into my neck as his hands roamed my body and, against my skin, he murmured, “Love you, baby.”

I lifted an arm to glide my fingers in his hair and whispered back, “Love you too, Brock.”

Carefully, he turned me and deposited me on my back in the bed then turned his attention to the strappy, high-heeled sandals I still wore. One by one, he unbuckled them and they joined my dress on the floor. But after each one he kissed the inside of my ankle.

Once he was done, he moved his body to cover mine and I moved my legs to surround him, one around his ass, one I curved around the back of his thigh and I did this as my arms circled him, holding him tight.

Brock put some weight into his forearm but his other hand came to my face and he traced it with his fingertips while I traced his with my eyes.

“You know,” I whispered and his silvery-gray eyes came to mine, “the first time we were together, after you made me come, I looked at you and my first thought was how beautiful you were.”

His fingers stopped moving, his eyes closed and his forehead came to mine and when he groaned, “Tess,” I knew it came from his gut because I felt it in mine.

My fingers slid into his hair and my lips went to his cheek, I moved them across, lifting my head and, in his ear, I kept whispering.

“And the way you were looking at me, I knew in my blood you were mine.”

“You were right, sweetness,” he whispered back.

Then he kissed my neck, lifted his head again, I dropped mine and both my arms gave him a squeeze.

“Thanks for drinking champagne with me.”

“Thanks for makin’ me drink only a glass so I could move on to beer.”

I smiled at him and his eyes dropped to my mouth.

Then they came back to mine and I felt my body still at what I saw.

Then he spoke words that described the feeling I saw in his eyes.

“My Dad was a dick, I grew up fast, I lost Bree the way I did and lost all our history with her and I found Olivia and she made my life shit. Then I had a job where you wouldn’t believe the shit I saw, the shit I did and I hope to God, baby, you never get to a place you do.