“Are you going to meet your brother?” Bryson now caressed her hair, both to offer comfort and to fulfill his need to touch her.
“I’m scared,” she admitted. “What if it all turns out to not be true? What if this is all just some sort of sick joke? What if this Damien is my brother but he hates me?”
“No one who meets you can hate you, Misty. I can guarantee that.”
He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to hold her. Removing the cup from her hand, he set it aside and wrapped her in his arms, her head leaning against his chest, his hands stroking her back.
“That’s not true!” she sobbed. “My foster parents hated me, the other kids hated me, and Jesse really hated me.”
“Oh, Misty, they were all fools. Don’t you see that you were thrust into a life that wasn’t supposed to be yours? You were supposed to have it all, a loving family, a beautiful life, with all the advantages in the world. Even though you didn’t grow up with what you deserved, you have still managed to stay above water. So many would use a terrible childhood as an excuse to use drugs, or live a life of crime, but not you. Though times were hard, you trudged ahead.”
“But I ended up with Jesse,” she reminded him.
“Not by your choosing. He took all choice away, didn’t give you options. He forced your hand, and even then you managed to escape. Not all his victims have managed to get away from him…alive.”
She shuddered in his arms and took in deep breaths, trying to pull herself together. “I’m still afraid. Doesn’t that make me weak? I’m afraid to take the hand Joseph is holding out to me. I’m afraid of meeting my brother.” She paused before admitting what frightened her even more. “I’m afraid of letting you go right now.”
She pressed her body more tightly against his.
He was the lowest and most disgusting of scum. She trusted him, was seeking comfort and reassurance from him, and his body was firing up, his brain focused on the curves pressed against him, his caressing hands well aware of her derrière only inches below them. He would burn in hell — and he’d deserve it.
“I need you, Bryson,” she whispered, the words barely audible. “Please.”
His entire body snapped into action mode. Though he nearly shook in his attempt to do the right thing, he was hard in a second. But she was vulnerable, hurting, alone. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t make love to her right now.
It was wrong on so many levels, and there wasn’t a punishment severe enough for him if he went through with this. She would hate him afterward. And she’d hate him even more when she found out he’d known about her brother and told her nothing.
He was trying to persuade himself to let her go, to lead her into the living room, where he could hold her until she felt better, when her hand slid across his backside, making him clench his teeth.
It looked as if hell was going to take him. Because there was no more turning back.
Chapter Fourteen
Misty’s stomach was doing handsprings, her emotions were all over the place, and her whole world had been flipped upside down, but one thing was certain: being pressed up against Bryson, with his strong hands kneading the taut muscles up and down her back, felt so right.
Her anguish faded; the questions running through her head stopped. All she could feel, all she could think about, all she could concentrate on, was Bryson. She needed him to take this away — take away the choices, the decisions, the life-changing questions.
She needed him to take…her.
“Please, Bryson. Please touch me,” she begged. She turned her head and leaned upward, her lips softly flitting across his solid jaw, satisfaction filling her when he trembled in her arms.
“You’re vulnerable right now,” Bryson argued, fighting to maintain control, but his rebellious hands moved down past the small of her back and gripped her luscious behind, pulling her tightly against his solid erection.
“That’s why I need you. Too many people have hurt me…too many times. I can’t remember sleeping one night — not a single night — where I felt safe, where I felt that, when I woke up, the world would be a little bit better. I just need this night. I need to be in your arms, and I need to feel what real pleasure is. Just once,” she begged, her mouth now at his neck. She bit down gently on the skin before sucking it, wetting it with her tongue.
He knew this was it. Either he pulled away, took her into the living room and held her until she fell asleep, or he took her lips. There was no turning back if he did this. No way of redeeming himself. When she nipped his neck again, his mind shut off.
At least hell was warm…
“I have to have you,” he groaned before one hand flew up her back and clasped the back of her head, tilting her face upward so he could bend down and taste her beautiful mouth.
Their lips crashed together like a wave hitting the shore, shattering any and all doubts that this could possibly be wrong.
He wanted her — there was no doubt about it, from the urgency of his mouth to the feel of his arousal pressing against her stomach, demanding to be freed from the tight confines of his clothes.
If she didn’t have him, she would never make it through this storm; she would just float out to sea, never to be found again. She moved her arms up his body, wound them around his neck, and pressed even closer.
His tongue explored her mouth, sending sensations through her unlike anything she’d ever known, and making her core tighten in anticipation.
She’d never felt any craving for sex, not even once. It had been something she was either forced to have or thought she had to have, but it had never been pleasurable. Yet from the way she was feeling now, she hadn’t a single doubt that this would be earth-shattering. This would be what she’d dreamt about when she read a romance or watched a sappy movie.
This would be worth the buildup of the games they’d been playing for weeks, months.
If this was the only night the two of them had together, she wanted it to last. She knew she was pushing him, and she knew he’d regret it. He was too ethical and this broke the rules. But to hell with the rules. For this brief moment, she felt nothing but pleasure, and she deserved that — deserved to feel alive and free.
He broke away and she dragged oxygen inside her lungs while his mouth moved down the curve of her jaw, and then his teeth clamped on to the skin of her neck, causing a sting that he quickly soothed with his tongue.
“What are you doing to me?” he growled, passion and confusion in his voice. But his mouth traveled back to hers, and he took her lips again, accepting nothing less than her complete submission.
She could ask the same of him, ask for his surrender — but she already had it.
One minute she was fully clothed, and the next she wasn’t. She’d been so focused on his mouth that she hadn’t even noticed when he stripped off her slacks and her panties. But she noticed now, when his long fingers gripped her backside and he lifted her, spreading her thighs apart as he set her on the counter, slipped between her legs, and, still clothed, pressed his erection against her aching core.
“Oh, my,” she groaned, her head falling back. “Too much…” It was all too much — the sensation, the feelings, the raw need.
“Do you want me to stop?”
Did she hear fear in his voice that she had changed her mind?
“Never!” she cried, and he immediately plundered her mouth again, capturing the moan rumbling through her as his hands squeezed the flesh of her bare behind.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he groaned. He trailed his tongue down her jaw, but this time he didn’t stop. He let his hands move up her sides, then captured the top of her blouse and yanked. The material gave way easily, ripping apart and offering her panting chest to his mouth.
Tugging on her bra, he freed her br**sts, and they spilled out, reaching for him. He didn’t keep her waiting. His mouth found one nipple and suckled it to a pointed peak before he moved over and gave the same pleasure to the other one.
“More,” she demanded.
Misty fell backward, her back held up only by the cupboards behind her while his mouth worshipped her br**sts, leaving her even hungrier than before.
When he moved downward to her navel, she shook, but not in alarm at his clear intent. She needed more, and that’s what he gave her. His mouth circled her wet heat and then his tongue was doing things to her she’d never dreamed of. She screamed when the first pulses slammed into her, then moaned long and deep as he sucked on her swollen bud, drawing out her pleasure in wave after wave of sensation.
Before she could gain her breath back, he was standing again, his mouth glistening with her pleasure, his eyes wild as he gazed at her, animal-like, hungry.
“You are even more beautiful than I imagined,” he whispered, his voice raw with passion. “And I imagined being with you. I imagined it a lot.”
“Take me, Bryson; take me right now.”
It didn’t seem possible, but his eyes grew even more feral and predatory as he reached down and freed himself. She felt an instant of disappointment that she didn’t get to see him in all his glory before he was pressed against her. But he was now sliding inside her and any thought of disappointment vanished.