Page 79 of Hate to Love You
My heart feels like it’s going to explode right out of my chest. “Leave them on,” I grind between clenched teeth.
She cocks her head, her brows drawing together in confusion. “You don’t want me to take my underwear off?”
I shove my hands into the back pockets of my jeans and shake my head. “Nope.” Fuck no. I’m barely keeping it together as it is.
If she removes the thin scrap of material barring her sweet pussy from me, I’m done. Right now, I have the best intentions in the world. But if those are gone…all bets are off. There’s no way I’ll be able to resist her.
This girl is my kryptonite. She always has been. I just never realized it until now.
Natalie shrugs and turns toward the bed. My eyes drop to her barely-covered ass. I have to bite back a groan.
I yank my T-shirt over my head and throw it to the floor before tearing my jeans from my body. When I’m in nothing more than a pair of black boxer briefs, Natalie’s eyes rove hungrily over the length of me and I feel my dick harden to the point of pain.
“Not taking off your boxers?” she asks.
They stay on no matter what.
“Nope.” Much safer this way.
Once we slide between the sheets, I pull Natalie into my arms. She rests her head on my chest. Her breasts are crushed against me. I push the hair away from her face as our legs tangle.
Even though it feels like the tip of my dick is going to explode, a strange kind of contentment washes over me. This is the first time we’ve laid together in bed, but already I know it’s a feeling I’ll never get enough of.
Natalie closes her eyes and sighs as if she’s just as happy as I am. “Tonight meant a lot to me. Thank you.”
I sift my fingers through her hair. “You’re welcome.”
I’ve never cared enough about someone else to want to make them happy. The way Natalie looked at me tonight with light shining in her eyes…I want more of it.
I want her to always look at me like that.
Now I just have to figure out a way to make it happen.
Should be easy enough, right?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Natalie
My first realization as I drift into consciousness is that I’m not alone. I’m plastered against a warm body. With my eyes closed, I trail my fingers over a muscular chest and tight, washboard abs. I crack an eye open. It’s still early. The sun is just starting to stretch its fingers across the eastern horizon.
Brody and I are so tangled together that I’m not sure where he begins and I end. My head rests against his chest. The steady rise and fall of it soothes me. The rhythm could easily lull me back to sleep if I let it. Instead of allowing that to happen, I lift my head and glimpse his stubble-covered jawline. A bolt of awareness shoots through me and explodes in my core.
One look.
That’s all it takes to send lust and need careening through my system.
At every turn, he surprises me. I’ve always taken Brody for a manwhore, and yet I’d offered myself up on a silver platter last night and he refused to lay a finger on me. He wouldn’t allow me to take off my panties. He did nothing more than hold me in his arms the entire night.
And I’ve never slept better.
I feel like I’ve spent the last couple of years protecting myself. Building walls and keeping people out. Reed may have bruised my ego, but he didn’t break my heart. After last night and the surprise birthday dinner Brody planned…I think I’m falling for him. My heart clenches as that thought flashes through my brain.
How can this be happening?
Sitting up, I study him more carefully. This is really the first opportunity I’ve had to look my fill. If he caught me staring like this, I’d never hear the end of it. Brody has a massive ego. I’m surprised he’s able to stand upright with it.
It’s not that I didn’t realize Brody was good looking before—you’d have to be blind not to notice how smoking-hot he is—but he’s even more so than I allowed myself to acknowledge. A mop of tawny hair streaked with gold brushes his broad shoulders. Heavy eyebrows arch across a strong forehead. And thick eyelashes feather against chiseled cheekbones that flank a long, straight nose and full, kissable lips.