Page 56 of Pucking Revenge
She juts her chin, arms crossed over her chest, gaze angry and determined.
My heart doesn’t know whether to hide away or leap in my chest, but I shuffle back to the bed. “Fine. But no talking about my hard cock in the morning.”
With her sheet clutched to her chest, she scoots over, making space for me. Though trepidation has replaced the bravery that hit me when I first stepped into the room, I stand beside the bed and slip off my sweater and the T-shirt underneath, then my jeans. When all that’s left is a pair of black boxers, I slide in beside her.
Head on the pillow, I pull her close.
“You’re really pretty, Brooks,” she whispers, settling her cheek against my chest.
My heart is galloping with so much violence, its pounding rhythm will probably keep us both awake.
Even so, I press a kiss to her forehead and close my eyes. “Go to sleep, Pumpkin.”
TWENTY
SARA
The moment I wake up I wiggle my ass against Brook’s very obvious erection. “Is there a tree in this bed, or are you just happy to see me?”
He groans and clamps down on my hip to still my movements.
“What do you call morning wood that wakes you up?”
“Sara.”
I laugh. “No. Alarm cock.”
He nuzzles into my neck. Then, with a growl, he nibbles at the place where my neck and shoulder meet.
I yelp and push back into him further. “You want me to take care of that? We could give your uncle another show this morning.”
“How is it that twelve hours ago, you were the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, but right now you’re driving me nuts?”
I hum, tucking away those words—hottest fucking thing—to analyze later. “It’s impressive, isn’t it? A real talent. But you know what else I’m talented at? Sucking cock. You should let me show you.” I attempt to spin in his arms, but he tightens his grip. “Brooks!”
“Saint. We’ve been over this. I’m a goddamn saint for not flipping you over and fucking you senseless for the way you’re rubbing your sexy little bare ass against my very erect, as you’ve pointed out, penis.”
“Oh my God.” Laughter bubbles out of me, and I throw my head back on the pillow. “You just said penis. So technical.” I take a deep breath to calm myself and peek over at him. Then, channeling my inner sex kitten, I whisper, “Please, Saint. Fuck me with your erect phallus.”
He huffs and glowers at me. “Are you done yet?”
“Stick it between my silky folds and puncture my vagina.”
His face screws up in a look of pure revulsion. “What the fuck kinda dirty talk did you and Coach partake in?” He palms his forehead. “Never mind. Don’t answer that.”
I laugh. “Nah. I got the terms from the romance books I read. You’d be surprised by the words people use to describe their nether regions.” I wiggle against him again and rest my head on my pillow. “Thanks for not getting weird on me after last night.”
Brooks snuggles into the space between my shoulder and neck. “You’re weird enough for the both of us.”
“True.” I hum.
As silence falls between us, I replay last night. Unlike some of the books I’ve read, Brooks has no problem with the dirty talk. Fuck. His words are now the official soundtrack to all the images in my spank bank.
I clear my throat, hoping the action also clears away the lust that’s just started to swirl inside me. “You nervous about the game tonight?”
“Nah. But I should get moving. I have a lot to do.”
The clock on my nightstand reads 6:55 a.m. “What in the hell do you have to do at this hour?”