Page 73 of Broken Pieces

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Raelynn

I seriously cannot believe he just fucking did that.

And then the fact that he didn’t stop when the guest walked into the kitchen.

I could strangle him.

But I do have to admit, it was hot. The fact someone could, and did, walk in on us at any time turned me on more as Brooks worked me into a frenzy.

He is bold and alpha and demanding, and I never thought that I would be into that, but I am loving every second of it.

I don’t want to feel these feelings for him. But they are just feelings of lust. I think.

Even if he was so sweet yesterday when he worked the knots out of my shoulders. When he listened when it came to my sister. I don’t remember the last time someone just listened to me when I was having a problem. Everyone was always trying to tell me what to do and change me, Logan, Tacoma, Easton. The last person who really cared about me was Tyler. But there is no way I will develop feelings for Brooks the way I had for Tyler.

I shut myself down after I lost him. And for good reason. I suffered so much when my parents died. I suffered more when Tyler died. I’m afraid if I love again, I’ll lose Brooks too.

I am still in shock with what he told me yesterday. I played it off as him being in lust and screwed him on that table so I didn’t have to think about the fact he might be falling for me. That is not what we agreed on.

We agreed on easy.

We agreed on no expectations.

We agreed on fucking.

That’s it.

Yet why does it feel like it is turning into more than that?

A finish cleaning up the kitchen, thoughts of Brooks still on my mind. I leave the pies out to cool and walk out the back door locking up behind me.

I am a ball of nerves as I walk toward the cottage. What is the expectation going to be when I go inside? Can I sneak to my room and avoid Brooks? Do I want to?

I close the cottage door quietly behind me and head down the hall. I am outside of his room, his door wide open. I hear tiny snores coming from the bed. I check the clock on the bedside table and notice its past one in the morning.

He needs to be up in four hours and I don’t want to wake him. But against my better judgment I strip off my clothes and pick one of his shirts out of his drawer and pull it on over my head.

I quietly crawl into bed next to him without waking him.

I fall asleep quickly, exhausted from the day.

I wake up a few hours later from the feeling of his arms wrapped around me.

I throw expectations out the window.

I relax into the comfort of his arms and drift back to sleep.