Finding Him: Second Chance Billionaire Romance (Finding Love Book 1), page 29
I’m not sure why her words choke me up, but they do. She’s like a breath of fresh air, and grateful doesn’t begin to cover how she makes me feel.
Removing my jacket, I drape it over her shoulders. “Come, let’s get you home. The night isn’t over yet.”
Thankfully, my uncle has turned in for the night by the time we arrive back at the apartment. Grabbing Brooke’s hand, I lead her straight to our room. This was the part I was most looking forward to, but I doubt if anything can top the pure enjoyment I experienced watching Brooke at the ballet.
“I’ve been waiting to undress you all night,” I say, closing the bedroom door and flipping the lock.
Her arms encircle my neck, as she pulls my face down towards hers. When our lips connect, all my plans for slowly unwrapping my prize fly out the window. I crave this woman … tonight more than ever.
I reach for the zipper at the back of her dress and tug it down in one swift motion. When she lowers her arms, it glides down her body and pools at her feet. “I’m desperate to be inside you,” I state, scooping her into my arms and crossing the room.
Our lips are still connected as she fumbles with my bow tie. I reach around behind her to unclasp her bra. As soon as I place her back on her feet beside the bed, she moves to the buttons of my shirt. My hands grasp the sides of her lace underwear and I effortlessly tear them from her body.
Her wide eyes meet mine as she pulls out of the kiss. “Did you just rip them?”
“I’ll buy you a new pair,” I answer, crashing my mouth back to hers.
We’ve had rough sex before, but tonight we’re travelling at a frenzied pace. Desperation accompanies every movement. It’s like we can’t get enough of each other. Personally, I want to fuck this woman into next week.
As soon as Brooke undoes the last button, I frantically remove my cufflinks and toss them aside before shrugging out of my shirt.
Placing my hands under her arms, I lift her off the ground and gently lay her on the bed. “My shoes,” she says, looking down at her feet.
“Leave them on.” I smile wickedly as I raise her legs in the air and place one on each of my shoulders. She looks like a goddess lying there in nothing but a quarter-of-a-million-dollar necklace. I’m pretty sure she’d be mortified if she knew how much it cost me.
“Hot Stuff,” she cries out, as I fall to my knees and bury my head between her thighs.
Briefly looking up, I flick my head towards the door. “You might want to keep it down tonight.”
Her eyes widen as colour rises on her cheeks when she remembers John is down the hall. I laugh when she quickly removes her hands from my hair and covers her mouth.
Bringing my face forward, I spread her wide and lick a path along her slit. “Oh god,” she whimpers, throwing her head back and fisting her hands in the sheets. I love how responsive she is to my touch. This woman drives me wild.
My tongue circles her clit as I plunge two fingers deep inside her, causing her to moan and buck her hips forward. My cock is so hard, I’m surprised it doesn’t burst through the zipper of my trousers. Just her taste has me almost blowing my load.
“I love your pussy. Fucking love it.” As soon as her inner thighs start to squeeze my head like a vice, I know she’s close. “Come for me, babe.”
“I … I am.”
I don’t stop until I’ve drained every ounce of pleasure from her body. Drawing back, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand before digging into my pocket for a condom. I came prepared. It’s all I’ve thought about since I found her in the bathroom in that skimpy black lace.
“Stand up,” she says, moving to sit on the side of the mattress. “Let me help you.”
“You need to be quick; I’m dying here.”
“I seriously doubt that you’re close to death.”
Unbuckling my belt, she makes fast work of the button and zipper. I rip the condom wrapper open with my teeth as she reaches inside my boxer briefs to free my rock-hard cock. I’m ready to roll the rubber over my length, but she appears to have other ideas as she leans forward and wraps her lips around the head, swirling her tongue as she does.
“Babe,” I pant. “I’m already on the edge.” She places her palm flat on my abdomen, pushing me back slightly to give herself enough room to slide off the bed and onto her knees. Her teeth lightly graze over my length as she takes as much of me into her mouth as she can manage. My legs threaten to give out when I feel the tip hit the back of her throat. I don’t even want to know where she learnt to suck cock like this. “Fuck.” My hands grip her head as I rock my hips forward, and when she gags, my balls tighten. “Babe, I’m … coming.”
I try to withdraw, but she holds fast and I have no choice but to unload into her sweet mouth. Tilting my head back, I groan. I probably should be embarrassed by how fast she made me come undone, but in my defence, I’ve been walking around with a semi all night.
“How was that?” she asks, looking up at me innocently through her eyelashes. There was nothing innocent about what she just did.
“Mind-blowing,” I reply, dragging her to her feet. I’m still clutching the condom between my fingers as I lie her back down on the bed. I may have just come, but I’m not done with her yet … I’m only getting started.
Chapter 45
Brooke
“Morning,” I say to John when I descend the stairs and find him once again engrossed in the day’s paper.
There’s a touch of apprehension still present, but no butterflies this morning. It definitely seems like I’m more open to getting to know him better. Or maybe I’m still riding my high from last night.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” Closing the paper, he gives me his full attention. “How did last night go?”
I grip the back of the chair on the opposite side of the table. I’m pretty sure nothing or nobody could dampen the glorious mood I’m in.
“Amazing.” I’m still floating. “Logan took me to the ballet.”
“He mentioned he bought tickets.”
Resting one of my hands over my heart, I sigh. “It was the most tragic, yet beautiful, performance. It moved me to tears a number of times.”
The smile on John’s face grows as he listens to me speak. “I’m happy to hear that you enjoyed it so much.”
“I did.” I look down at the empty mug in front of him. “I’m going to grab a coffee. Would you like a refill?”
“I’d love one, thank you.” Holding his mug out for me, I take it from him.
“Morning, Jill,” I say, entering the kitchen.
She studies me for a moment before answering. “Morning, dear. I’m guessing by the smile on your face that last night went well.”
“It was wonderful.” Placing John’s mug down on the counter, I open the upper cupboard grabbing one for myself. “The best night of my life.”
“I’m so glad you had a nice time.” Jill reaches for the mug in my hand. “Coffee?”
“Please. Oh, and John would like a refill too.”
“You seem more relaxed this morning.” She gestures her head in the direction of the dining room table as she says it.
I shrug. “We had a nice talk yesterday. I think it helped me understand him a little better.”
“I’m pleased to hear that. You’ll find he really is a lovely man if you give him half a chance.”
“So everyone keeps telling me.”
“Because it’s true.”
“I still feel like I’m betraying my mum by associating with him.”
“That’s understandable. I’m not your mother, so I can’t profess to know how she’d feel. But if my daughter was left all alone in this world, it would give me comfort knowing her father was looking out for her.”
“Maybe.” I’ve never thought of it like that. “When she was dying, leaving me alone was one of her greatest fears.”
“I can only imagine.” Jill reaches out and tenderly rubs my back. “That would’ve been hard for her—for you both.”
I nod my head, emotion clogging my throat. I try not to think about those times. It hurts too much.
Once our coffees are ready, I carry them to the table and place John’s in front of him before taking the seat opposite.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“That perfume you were wearing last night, was that Opium?” he asks.
“Yes. How did you know that?”
“It’s the same fragrance your mother used to wear.”
“It was. That’s why I love it.”
“It reminds me so much of her. I even bought a bottle of it after she left. It may sound silly, but smelling it gave me comfort.”
“It gives me comfort too,” I admit.
He nods his head and smiles. It’s funny how we both have that in common.
“There were times I even sprayed it on my pillowcase … it helped me sleep.” His eyes move down to the coffee in his hand as he clears his throat. “You probably think that’s weird.” I think it’s kind of sweet. “I used to close my eyes and imagine she was lying beside me.”
“Your wife never queried the smell of women’s perfume on your pillow?”
“We slept in separate rooms. As I told you yesterday, our marriage wasn’t a conventional one. We have never shared a bed.”
A feeling of pity washes over me. He gave up a life with a woman he obviously cared about, for an illusion.
“I always wear my mum’s perfume when I’m missing her. It makes me feel like she’s with me.”
He reaches across the table for my hand, wrapping it in his. “We’re a sad and sorry pair, aren’t we?” He releases a small laugh. “I guess when you love someone as much as we loved your mother, it’s only natural we’d want to feel her near.”
We have a lot more in common than I ever felt possible. It’s nice that I have someone to share these small things with. Jake was never able to grasp the level of grief I felt when I lost her.
“I wish you had gotten the chance to make amends. It would’ve meant the world to her.”
“Thank you, that means a lot. It will always be one of my biggest regrets.”
“She talked about you sometimes.”
“She did?”
“I don’t think she ever got over you.”
He bows his head. “I never got over her either.”
“I can take you to visit her gravesite one day if you like. It’s not the same as …”
“I’d like that.” He sits back in his chair, and that’s when I see the tears glistening his eyes. “I still can’t believe she’s gone.”
After greeting Chris, I slide into the back of the limousine. It’s been a long, tiring day.
Relaxing back into my seat, I fumble in my bag for one of the letters John gave me. The once white envelope has slightly yellowed with age. I planned to read it during my lunch break, but that never came to fruition. I barely had time to eat.
My stomach churns as I slide my finger under the edge of the envelope and break the seal. I feel like John and I made some headway this morning, so I’m anxious that what I’m about to read might set us back.
Taking a deep breath, I unfold the piece of paper enclosed.
To my dearest Maree,
I don’t even know where to start because there’s so much I need to say to you. I must start by expressing my most heartfelt apology. I’m sorry I never told you I was married. I know it’s no excuse, but I was scared I’d lose you and the deeper I fell, the harder it became. Please believe me when I say it’s not a marriage based on love—it never has been. Nevertheless, I should have been honest with you from the start.
Hurting you was the last thing I ever wanted to do. I hate myself for the things I said earlier, especially about the baby. Our baby. The product of our love. Just thinking there’s a chance you’d consider listening to my deplorable demands, fill me with an enormous sense of dread. You must think I’m a monster, but please, please, I beg you not to go through with the termination. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ll give up everything I have if you’ll just promise to give our child a chance at life. I was scared, and I panicked, but the moment you walked out of my office, I knew I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life. I hate myself for the things I said. I’ve lost the best thing that has ever happened to me—you.
I love you, Maree. I love you more than I have loved anyone or anything. You may be doubting that right now, but it’s the truth. I can’t even comprehend life without you in it. I never knew the true meaning of happiness until I met you.
It’s currently 2 am and tears are streaming down my face as I sit here and write this. I spent the better part of the night driving around looking for you. I stopped by your apartment earlier, but your roommate told me you’d packed up your things and fled. I’ve been going out of my mind with worry ever since.
I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I won’t be able to rest until I find you. Even if you don’t want me in your life anymore, I need to know you’re safe, and that you and our child are okay.
I can see the water stains on the page where his tears have smudged the ink. Refolding the letter, I place it on my lap as I wipe away the moisture from my eyes. I thought I was ready to read these, but I’m not. This letter alone is almost five pages long, but those first few paragraphs are enough. They tell me all I need to know: Everything he told me is true. He did love my mum as much as he claims. He’s sorry for the dreadful things he said. And most importantly, he did want me.
I can’t even begin to process what this means. Maybe that’s why I’ve been fighting this so much. Was I trying to reject him like he’d done with me all those years ago?
Bowing my head, I blow out a puff of air.
“Are you okay, Miss Ryan?” Chris asks, eyeing me with concern through the rear-view mirror.
“I’m fine, Chris,” I reply as my gaze moves to the window.
To be honest, I’m unsure how I feel. In a way, I gained a sense of peace from reading the letter, but on the other hand, I feel an incredible loss. Not just for me, but for my mother, and for John. Our lives could’ve been so different, but I, of all people, know you can’t turn back time. Those years are gone, and we can never get them back.
When I enter the apartment, I find Jill sitting at the table with John. I’m tired and have a splitting headache. All I want to do is lock myself away and soak in a hot bath.
“Here’s my girl,” John says when I enter the room. My girl. “We were just talking about you.”
“Nothing bad I hope.”
“Never,” Jill replies. “Come sit. I’ll get you something to drink.”
She goes to stand, so I hold out my hand to stop her. “I’m beat. It’s been a long day. If you don’t mind, I’m going to head up to my room.”
“Okay, dear.”
The disappointment on John’s face is unmissable. We parted on good terms this morning, but now I’m feeling so overwhelmed by it all.
Dropping my gaze to the floor, I make a beeline for the stairs.
After closing the bedroom door behind me, I flop onto the bed. I stay there for a moment, collecting my thoughts until my phone rings.
Sliding my bag onto my lap, I open it. The first thing that greets me is the letter. I pull it out and place it on the bed beside me before retrieving my phone. I smile when I see Hot Stuff on the screen.
“Hey,” I say, answering the call.
“Hey, babe. Is everything okay?”
“Of course, why?”
“Chris called me to let me know you got home safely. He said you seemed upset.”
“I’m fine. I just have a lot on my mind.”
“Like what?”
“Just stuff.”
I don’t want to burden him with any of this. Besides, he made it clear the moment things get too hard for me, he’ll find somewhere else for John to stay. I’m not sure I want him to leave just yet.
“What kind of stuff?” I can hear the concern in his voice. “Work? John? Me?”
“I’m just tired, that’s all. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.”
“Brooke, do I need to come home?”
“No.” I blow out a puff of air because I know he’s not going to let this go. “Things are full-on at work with all the concert preparations, and—”
“You’re struggling with John being there,” he says, finishing off my sentence.
“Not struggling, per se.”
“Then what? Do you want me to see if Michelle can take him?”
“No, she’s in the middle of renovations on her house, so things are crazy for her right now. I don’t mind him being here, honestly. It’s just … can we talk about it later? I have a splitting headache.”
“I was going to work late tonight. I’ve been out of the office for most of the day, but I think I’ll come home now. I can try to catch up on everything tomorrow.”
“No don’t,” I say. “I’m okay.”
“I’m worried about you.”
“You’re sweet, but don’t be.” My gaze moves down to the envelope sitting beside me on the bed. “John gave me some letters … letters he wrote to my mother after she left.”
“I see.”
“I read one today—well, part of one—in the back of the limousine on my way home from work.”
“And the letter upset you?”
“Yes and no.” My voice cracks as I speak. “It’s just …” Tears fill my eyes, so I take a deep breath and try to compose myself. “It made me sad. I hate the last things he said to her. It’s so tragic. It upsets me that they both suffered so much because of it.”
“Oh, babe.”
I swipe my finger under my eye, wiping away the stray tear. “I’m going to have a long soak in a hot bath.”
“You know that only makes me want to come home more.”
His comment makes me laugh. “Stay at work, you sex fiend. I promise I’m okay. We can talk tonight when you get home.”
“Are you sure?”
