“Yeah, but the party will be worth it.” He lifted her hand to his lips, brushed them over her knuckles. “I really enjoyed working with you the last week. I’ve enjoyed pretty much everything about having you back in my life.”
Tyler cut a glance at him in the flashing light of passing street lamps. He was relaxed as he watched her, his expression one of utter contentment. “We make a good team. Always did.”
“Bookends,” he murmured.
“Huh?”
“My mom used to call us bookends.”
Tyler waited for the pang, but felt only a warm glow at the memory. “She’d be really proud of you, you know. You did a really good thing for the community this week, Brody.”
“I did it for you.” He said it simply, with no air of expectancy. Just stating fact.
It was so…Brody. He’d always gravitated to grand gestures. Like mailing a plane ticket to Paris, for instance. He simply staggered her. He always had. As anxiety shifted to certainty inside her, Tyler decided it was time to make her own grand gesture.
She pulled out her phone, dialed Piper.
“Where are you?” she demanded. “Norah’s here and we’re all waiting!”
“We’re going to be late,” said Tyler. “Tell her not to wait.”
“It something wrong?”
Tyler glanced over at Brody, who watched her intently. “No, everything is very definitely right.” She ended the call, tossed the phone into the cup holder.
“Where are we going, Tyler?”
She reached for his hand again. “Home.”
~*~
Tyler was already reaching for him as she kicked open the door to her house. Brody had time only to say her name before she’d fused her mouth to his, and the well-intentioned speech he’d rehearsed on the rest of the drive over about making certain she was sure about this bled out of his mind. She was a fever in his arms, all desperate demand as she nipped and goaded, tugging at his clothes. His blood fired as he jerked her to him, molding that lean, muscled body to his as he plundered her mouth. Where she led, Brody followed, circling through what was probably a living room as they shed clothes, hands greedy for skin. With every inch of newly exposed flesh, he wanted more.
They bumped into the sofa. Brody bowed her over the back of it, lips burning a trail from her jaw, down her throat to the valley between lace-cupped breasts. Tyler’s hand fisted in his hair as her hips ground against his. “More,” she demanded.
Brody pulled her up, spun her in an erotic dance toward the hall. The taste of her was a drug, exquisite, addictive. As his hands fumbled with the clasp of her bra, she dragged her mouth from his and set her teeth to the juncture between his neck and shoulder.
Brody’s control snapped. Pressing her back against the wall, he shoved down the lace and filled his hands with her breasts. Her low moan was a dark delight. Her hips moved in a restless, seeking rhythm against his as he took one budded nippled into his mouth and pleasured them both. He felt the tension coil through her, wanted to watch her ride that crest to the end. So he pressed a hand against her, firm and intimate, and watched her face as he slipped a finger into all that waiting heat. He kept watching as he matched her instinctive rhythm and drove her relentlessly up. His name was a plea on her lips as she shattered in his hands.
Brody hitched her up, wrapping those long legs around his waist. Her back to the wall, it would take only one thrust to sheath himself, to send them both spiraling into madness. But he wanted more from her than mindless pleasure. He wanted—needed more for them both. So he dropped his head to her shoulder and breathed in her scent until he thought he could find some of that missing control, some semblance of finesse.
Tyler’s hand moved across his shoulder, into his hair. “Brody?”
Her expression, when he lifted his head, was a strange mix of guarded vulnerability. Already preparing herself for rejection. God, he hated that was in her mind, hated that there was reason for it. Seeing her anxiety dulled the vicious edge of need, gave him the control he needed.
“Not here,” he rasped. “Which way is the bedroom?”
Her face relaxed. “Last door on the left.”
Brody could feel the gallop of her heart as he carried her the rest of the way down the hall. He’d had her desperate. Now he wanted her steeped in pleasure. In the bedroom, he let her slide down his body, then framed her face, as he had on stage weeks ago. It was confusion now, instead of the dread and anticipation, as he stroked her cheek. “I never thought I’d be here with you again.” He brushed his lips over hers. “I don’t want to rush th
rough it. I want to make love with you, Tyler.”
Her breath caught. “Brody.”
“Shh.” He dipped his head to her mouth, tasted her sigh as she melted against him. Her surrender was a gift he’d never expected, and he cherished it. Hands skimmed in long strokes meant to soothe, until her pulse turned slow and thick. He kept his pace easy, unhurried, sinking into the kiss layer by layer, easing her into a dance, though there was no music save what beat in his blood. No matter the time they’d lost, he wouldn’t rush this.
The flavor of her seeped into him. He savored it as he took her deeper, splaying a hand over the warm skin of her back. The subtle play of muscle beneath his palm was fluid as water as she swayed with him, her body, as always, responsive to every move of his. Tracing a hand up her spine, Brody pressed his lips to her fluttering pulse and eased her back on the bed.