Missing you.
* * *
BRODY KNOCKED ON the cabin door, his heart in his throat.
He’d spent the better part of the week missing India, aching for her, and he’d let her know in his texts. Yet she hadn’t made time to see him all week. Tonight, she finally had.
I’m alone. Come if you can.
Was that really all he was to her? A hookup? Someone to see when she was alone?
Still, he was the one who had said he’d take whatever she gave him. If she wanted him, he was powerless to resist. He’d made sure the girls were sleeping, then paused in the living room. His father was sound asleep in his recliner, and his mother was knitting. She hadn’t batted an eye when he told her he was going out.
Now he stood in the dark, knocking on the door, feeling like a damn fool.
He knocked again, more firmly this time, and slipped inside. “India?”
Nothing. No light, no sound, no sign of India. Only a faint light spilling out from under her bedroom door. Which irritated him all the more.
But once he’d pushed the door wide, he paused, his irritation gone. She was sound asleep, her hair spilling over her pillow and her arm resting atop the sheet and quilt that covered her.
He was torn. He wanted to stay, badly, but he didn’t want to wake her up. With all the sickness and germs he’d been battling this week, he had a whole new respect for the restorative powers of sleep. All three girls and his mother had ended up on antibiotics, but they were all, thankfully, on the mend.
Besides, he was tired. And nothing sounded better than sleeping. With India.
He kicked off his boots and climbed onto the bed beside her.
“Brody?” she whispered, her hand sliding up his arm to tug on his sleeve. “You’re dressed. Off.”
He chuckled but did as she said, then slid beneath the sheets in his boxers. “I feel bad for waking you.”
She rolled over him, naked and warm from sleep. “I wanted you to wake me up.”
His lungs emptied as he stared up at her. “I’ll never get tired of looking at you,” he whispered, his hands sliding up her sides, relishing each shudder his touch elicited.
She smiled, leaning into the brush of his fingers against her breasts. “You’re still overdressed.” Her fingers slid along the waist of his boxer shorts.
“I thought we were sleeping.” His hands cradled her breasts, savoring the weight and feel in his palms.
“We will,” she moaned, arching.
He sat up, sucking the tip of one breast into his mouth. His teeth and tongue worked it over, relentless, until the peak grew pebble-hard. His mouth trailed from beneath the swell of her breast, along her side and back up again—loving the other breast until her fingers bit into his scalp and her breath powered from her in heavy bursts.
“I missed you.” He slid his hands into her hair, holding her still until her gaze met his. “I looked for you all week, hoping to see you smile.”
“Your texts were the last thing I saw before I went to bed.” Her gaze was heavy—with more than wanting. “They made me smile. You make me smile.”
He kissed her, once, so soft it was a whisper. “Stay, India. Don’t leave.” He held her when she would have pulled away, deepening the kiss until she was clinging to him again. He rolled over her, discarding his boxers, before she flipped them again.
She was now on top, and her heat enveloped him, ripping a groan from his chest. His hands clasped her hips, holding her still, holding her tightly against him. She looked incredible. Breathing hard, hair mussed and eyes glazed with hunger—for him. He could stay like this for hours.
But she began to move.
He’d introduced her to passion. Now she was relentless, straining against him, arching her hips, resting her hands on his thighs, giving it her all. He fought his own desire, determined to see her fall apart before his climax reached him. He thrust up, seating himself so deep it jolted him to his core. Over and over she joined them together until she was trembling. He felt her response, the tiny quivers and spasms that spread through her, until she was crying out his name.
He smiled, rolling over her and driving into her. His body came alive for her, craved her, needed her. And so did his heart. He loved her, loved loving her.
Her head fell back, her body clenching again as he welcomed the power of his release.