Only You (Adair Family #5)(17)

Or so I’d thought.

“No. He didn’t ‘get me ready,’” I air-quoted, making him scowl. “He pushed into me a few times and came. All four times we did it.”

At that, Brodan shook his head, scowling. “What a selfish prick.”

Emboldened by our forthrightness, I moved a little closer to him. “What … what was he supposed to do?” I had some idea from movies and the things I’d heard people say at school, but I’d experienced none of it. And of course, I’d touched myself and had wondered maybe if Phil had touched me where I liked to touch me, maybe things would have gone better.

Brodan’s eyes widened at my question, but then they dropped to my mouth, and not for the first time, I had hoped that Brodan might actually have more-than-friendly feelings for me. Sometimes I’d catch him looking at my mouth or my legs or my breasts, proving that he was, in fact, aware of me as an actual girl and not just his best friend. My insecurities allowed me to forget those moments until they happened again.

Like now, as Brodan’s breath hitched and his attention moved to my cleavage and then drifted down to my bare thighs. The crests of his cheeks turned pink in a way I’d never seen before, and he wrenched his gaze away. “Like you said”—his voice was gruff—“foreplay.”

“Like what?”

He shot me a pissed-off look. “You know what.”

“I think we’ve established I don’t, since Phil was selfish.”

Brodan didn’t laugh or smile at my teasing. Instead, his gaze was suddenly intense in a way that made my heart race. “It’s a complete waste that he was your first time. Remind me to deck him the next time I see him.”

“You’ll do nothing of the sort, Brodan Adair. I think …” Guilt suffused me, and I dropped my eyes in shame. “I think I really hurt his feelings when I broke up with him.”

“Well, that’s what he gets for not treating you properly. Fuck. Don’t feel bad for the arsehole.”

Phil had gotten teary-eyed when I broke up with him, so I felt bad. “He just … I don’t think he meant to be selfish. I think he was just inexperienced.”

“Bullshit. He had three girlfriends before you, and I know for a fact that he used to shag one of them because she told me.”

I wrinkled my nose as I guessed that she’d told Brodan this after she’d shagged him too. “So, Casanova, what should he have done? Seriously. I’m curious what has all the girls from here to Inverness willing to put up with your shite for a chance to shag you?”

Brodan grinned at my teasing. “I’m very, very giving.”

My pulse raced, and I pushed through my awkwardness. “What does that mean?”

“We’re not talking about it, Sunset.”

“I thought you said we can talk about anything. Best friends talk about their sexual exploits, you know. C’mon.” I gave him a little shove. “I have my very own Don Juan to turn to for advice. Don’t get all shy on me.”

His eyes narrowed again as he offered bluntly, “I usually go down on them before we have sex.”

Do not blush, do not blush, do not blush. Unfortunately, the image of Brodan’s head between my legs caused a deep tug low in my belly, and my skin flushed accordingly. I saw him studying my reaction with a smugness that made me push through my embarrassment and arousal. “Do you … do you like doing that?”

Brodan’s breath hitched at my question, and his chin tilted stubbornly. “Aye. Not all girls like it, though. One girl didn’t want me down there with my mouth. So I got her off by rubbing her clit.”

His deliberate crudeness wasn’t pushing me away from the subject but rather spurring on my curiosity—and turning me the feck on, awakening the desire to have him take care of the tension I could never seem to get rid of. I squeezed my thighs together against the pulsing sensation between my legs, and Brodan’s gaze dropped to the movement. His nostrils flared, and there was the flush on the crests of his cheeks.

Was Brodan … turned on?

Hope and recklessness clashed within me, and before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “Show me.”

Brodan glowered, but there was heat in his eyes.

“Show me,” I repeated.

Surely if he didn’t want to, he’d have immediately protested?

Instead, he was breathing hard, and his hands clenched into fists. Before I could pull myself out of the moment, before I could lose my courage, I took hold of one of his hands and waited for him to resist.

Brodan visibly swallowed, but didn’t pull away.

Not when I slowly rested it against my inner thigh.

In fact, his fist uncurled, and his hand flattened, his fingers tickling the sensitive skin there. I let out a little gasp, and the muscle in his jaw ticked as I slid his hand under my dress. The throbbing between my legs intensified.

“Show me,” I whispered and spread my legs.

Brodan inhaled sharply, and he gripped my thigh hard. “Fuck … Roe.” His eyes flew up to meet mine. “If I do this … it changes nothing. I’m just …” He licked his lips almost nervously. “I’m just showing you what it should be like, right? It changes nothing between us. Our friendship means too much. Promise.”

My hormones, unfortunately, were totally in control of that moment. Because I thought, as I laid there with the possibility of Brodan Adair touching me intimately, that it would be enough. That if it was all I could have from him, I’d take it. “I promise.”