The Space Within (The Book of Phoenix #3) (14 page)

Sheesh. Relationships were stupidly complicated.

I crossed my arms over my chest as I walked the three blocks home from the beach. The day had been much warmer than the near freezing temperatures in Chicago that I hadn’t missed at all, but after the sun dropped below the horizon and darkness fell, the cool, winter air sent a chill over my skin. So did the feeling of being followed.

I rubbed my hands over my bare arms and glanced over my shoulder. I thought I saw a shadow shift down the street, but there was no one around to make it and the overhead street lighting was all wrong for the direction it moved. Then a white cat darted across the street, and I had to laugh at myself.
You’re imagining things. Freaking yourself out
. Still, I picked up my pace and mentally went over the self-defense moves Brock had taught me, trying my hardest to focus on the steps I was supposed to take for various types of attacks, and not on the memories of his arms wrapped around me … or that accidental kiss.

As Hope’s house came into view, the feeling grew stronger. I peered over my shoulder again. A man was running toward me. I walked faster, but still tried to convince myself it meant nothing. I couldn’t have been in a safer neighborhood. People go running all the time. Even at night. I took off into a jog, anyway, as the footsteps came closer, my heart pounding much harder than it should have been. Why wasn’t I wearing my steel-toed Doc Martens? I’d become complacent again, instead wearing flip-flops or tennis shoes. I wore the latter now, with their mesh material and rubber toes. Not very protective except maybe against shin splints.

I turned into the Verdors’ driveway, anxious for the security of being within their fence. The man’s footsteps came much louder and faster, following me into the driveway. My fingers shook as I keyed in the code for the people gate, and as soon as I was inside, I punched the button to close it as fast as possible. But it wasn’t fast enough. The man squeezed through.

I could barely see him in the darkness, only his form. What happened to the security lights? The floodlights that usually lit up when there was movement in the backyard? Adrenaline pumped through me, and I burst into a sprint and sucked in a breath to scream. As I circled the pool, running for the main house, a hand landed on my shoulder. An electric jolt charged through me, and the scream erupted. Remembering what Brock told me, I reached back and grabbed his wrist with both hands, threw my shoulder backwards into his chest, bent my knees, and thrust. He flipped around and over, headed for the pool.

“Hey!” he barked, grabbing at me for balance. He managed to grasp my wrist, and I screamed again as I fell in after him.

Chapter 13

8 Months Ago

Water immediately filled my mouth and lungs, choking and drowning me. My arms flailed, and my legs kicked. Darkness surrounded me, and I couldn’t find my way up to the surface, to the sweet air above. The man’s hand gripped my arm, tugging at me, and I kicked harder hoping to connect with some part of his body—his balls would suffice—while I tried to escape. Bubbles surrounded us, and muffled sounds swooshed in my ears. His arm wrapped around my waist, too strong for me to fight, and he pulled me farther down, pushing my head toward the bottom. I was going to die.

When I expected to hit my head against the unforgiving concrete, cool air suddenly blasted me instead.

I coughed and spurted water as my attacker’s head broke the surface. More liquid spewed from my mouth as his arm tightened around me, and he swam me over to the underwater seat in the corner of the deep end. His hands gripped my waist as he sat me on the ledge. I gasped again as I stared into Brock’s face with wide eyes, water dripping down my forehead, into my eyes, and over my face.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he bobbed in front of me, his breaths coming out hard and fast.

I coughed some more, clearing the rest of the water from my lungs, eventually nodded, and then threw my arms around him. My body shook from both fear and relief, as well as the chill in the air. His arms were warm around me, his body hot against mine. The heated pool made the water much warmer than the air, so I slid off the seat to submerse myself so only my head remained above the surface, inches from Brock’s.

“I’m so sorry,” I breathed as he tread water, and I held onto him. “I didn’t know it was you.”

He chuckled, and I thrilled at the sound I’d missed more than I cared to admit. “Glad to see my lessons stuck. Nice trick, by the way, landing me in the water. If you wanted to be back in my arms, you only needed to tell me, though.”

My eyes rounded, and I tried to squirm away from him. “I didn’t mean to. I swear. I didn’t even know—”

“Asia,” he said quietly, reeling me back against him, “
please
tell me you want to be back in my arms. Because this is exactly where I want to be.”

I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest for a new reason now. Chills swept over me, and not from the cool air any more.

“In the pool in your clothes?” I asked. “That’s where you want to be?”

“In the pool or anywhere, if that’s where you are,” he murmured. “Preferably not in my clothes, though.”

Our eyes locked for a moment, his inquiring. I had all kinds of questions, too, but also answers. Especially the one he sought.

“I want to be here, too,” I admitted in a barely audible whisper, but he must have heard me loud and clear because his mouth crashed into mine.

His lips were soft and warm and wet, urgently moving against mine as though he’d been the one drowning and I was his breath of air. And I returned the kiss just as urgently because he
was
the breath I’d needed for so long. His tongue swept out, licking the water from my lips before pressing against the seam between them. I parted my mouth, letting him in, wanting all of him in and a part of me. As our kiss deepened, and we sank lower into the water, all of the backyard lights suddenly came on, including the pool light.

“Hello?” Hope called out, and we broke the kiss to look at her. “Is someone out—oh! Sorry! Carry on!”

The yard returned to darkness, and a giggle tumbled over the air right before the door closed. Brock and I turned back to each other, and he chuckled before coming in for another kiss. Hot and desperate again, as though that brief moment apart had been a lifetime. He pulled me closer to him, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, pressing my boobs against his hard chest. As our mouths moved together, he swam us over to the side of the pool where he could stand, although I couldn’t. He used his body to pin me against the side, our heads below the pool’s edge and our shoulders still under water. His hands cupped my face, and his thumbs slid over my cheeks, pushing the wet strands of hair out of the way. Each stroke was like the strike of a match against my skin, enflaming me with heat.

His mouth slid away from my lips and down to my chin, then up along my jawline.

“God, I’ve missed you so much,” he murmured against the curve of my jaw just below my ear, sending shivers through my body.

“I’ve missed you, too,” I said as I arched my neck toward him. The movement caused my hard nipples to push into his chest, and I couldn’t help the moan.

“Damn, girl. I want you so badly.” He rocked his hips, showing me how much. His erection pushed against the thin material of our shorts, the hardness rubbing me in just the right spot between my open legs. I tightened them around his waist, returning the stroke against him. Now he moaned. “I fucking
need
you so badly, Asia.”

His mouth returned to mine, open, his tongue probing. Mine met it, swirled against it, tasting him, and trying to drink him in as he tried to devour me. His fingertips skated over my shoulders and down my sides until his hands gripped my waist, his thumbs sliding between us and pressing into the sensitive area of where my thighs met my pelvis. The tickle caused my hips to jerk toward him, and we both groaned with the pressure against our most sensitive parts.

My hands made their way down his muscular back to the hem of his t-shirt and under. The heat of his skin under my touch electrified me, and I rocked against him again. He returned the stroke, and we continued sliding and thrusting against each other, moaning and whimpering as our mouths remained locked and our hands explored under the other’s shirt. His palm cupped my ribs, and his thumb stroked over the thin material of my bra, then pushed its way under. Our thrusts came harder and faster, my back scraping against the side of the pool, but I didn’t care. I broke away from the kiss to gasp for air. I was going to come, and he hadn’t even touched me there.

“You feel amazing already,” he murmured as his lips slid over my cheekbone. “I don’t have a condom with me, but I want to—”

I froze. He tensed against me.

“We can’t do this,” I panted as rationality finally edged its way into the overload of hormones.

“I know,” he said, even as he rocked against me, wracking another wave of bliss over me. “We can go up to my room. I have some up there.”

I shook my head. “No, Brock.
This.
Any of this. I can’t—I won’t. I won’t be your fuck buddy or booty call.”

He pulled slightly back, enough to look at me. Now that we’d been out here long enough, it didn’t seem as dark. Light from Hope’s kitchen windows provided enough for me to see his face and the tilt of his lips and pull of his brows low over his eyes as he studied me.

“Asia, you will never be a fuck buddy or booty call to me.” He leaned in closer and pressed his forehead against mine. “You mean so much more to me than anyone ever has.”

“Anyone?” I challenged, my tone clear about Connor … and possibly his baby’s mama.

“You know what I mean.” He pressed his lips lightly to mine and didn’t move away as he spoke. “I was about to say I want to make love to you, Asia. I’ve never made love to anyone, but I want to make love to you. I want to know every part of you, outside and in, including your heart. Because you’re already embedded in mine. Into my fucking soul.”

If I’d been standing on land, I might have collapsed due to my bones liquefying. Instead, I melted against him, kissing him again, but softly this time. I pulled away when it became urgent and heated again.

“I want to make love to you, too, Brock. But not now. Not yet. I want—I
need
—to know that this is what we both really want. That it’s not an accident because we’re both lonely and horny and out of control.”

“I promise you it’s not an accident. I told you before that everything I do with you would be on purpose.” He sucked my bottom lip. “Although I am fucking horny, thanks to you.”

I kissed him one more time, then dropped my legs from his waist and pushed him back. I slid to the side as he floated away. “Seriously. I need to know this is what we both want when you don’t have a damn hard-on, and I don’t feel like a cat in heat.”

He laughed. “You have such a way with words.”

“I’m learning from your mom.” I swam for the steps, but as soon as I climbed out, I regretted it. Although the temperature was probably in the sixties, the air made the water on my skin feel like ice.

“There are towels in the laundry room,” Brock said as he hoisted himself out on the side of the pool.

“There are towels in my apartment, too,” I said, shivering. “And that’s where I’m going.”

“Me, too.” He stood right in front of me now, and his arms enveloped my trembling body.

I crossed my arms over my nipped out boobs before they pressed against him. “You’re going to your home. You’re going to cool off before you try to convince me this is what you really want.”

“I’m already fucking cooled off,” he said, his teeth chattering.

I ducked out of his embrace. “Go home, Brock. Put some dry clothes on. You know what I want now, but you need to think hard about it.” I jogged for the garage and the steps on the side of it, my soggy shoes squelching the whole way, and then called over my shoulder, “I’m really sorry for dumping you in the pool.”

Once up the stairs and inside, I ran for the bathroom, turned on the hot water, and had barely pulled out a towel when my phone beeped from the kitchen counter with a text message. Brock had already sent four. The first one was kind of long, for a text anyway:

“I miss you. Terribly. I shouldn’t have said what I did and pushed you away. I made the decision for you, and I’m sorry. Please forgive me. If you don’t want to be with me, I understand, and I’ll leave you alone. But if you do at all, just give me a sign, and I’m there.”

The second was much shorter: “In fact, I’ll probably be there anyway because I’m a fighter, and I’ll fight for you. That’s who I am. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Sheesh. How had he texted all of this already? He must have had super-thumbs.

The third: “Shit. You’re not answering. I hope I didn’t scare you off. I’m going for a run so I can hopefully stop thinking about you. I doubt I will, though, so I’m leaving my phone here so I’ll at least stop bothering you.”

I scrolled back up to the first message and the time showed those three had come in over an hour ago. The last one had come just now:

“I’ve been thinking about this for a month. I’m done thinking. I already know what I want…the same thing I’ve wanted since the day I met you. My hard-on’s gone. In fact, my dick’s turtled up. So when you’re done feeling like a cat in heat, lemme know.”

Another text dinged: “Shit. I’m hard again. Sorry. Can’t help it. Thinking of you.”

I laughed as I walked over to the window, feeling a pull toward it. I pushed the sheer curtain to the side and looked down toward the main house’s kitchen window, where a large form stood. Brock’s, without a doubt. I held my hand to the glass, and he did the same. With my other hand, I replied to his text.

“We need to talk.”

I watched as he looked down at his palm for a long moment, and then he turned away from the window. My phone vibrated in my hand.

“On my way.”

I shook my head and headed for the bathroom that had filled with steam, unable to help the smile on my face. I used my feet to push off my wet shoes and socks while pulling the shower curtain to the side. I couldn’t stand one more minute of shivering to try to remove my wet clothes, so I stepped into the shower still wearing my shirt and shorts. When I went to draw the shower curtain shut, a hand closed over mine, making me jump.

“Oh, my god, you scared me!” I gasped. Brock climbed into the shower with me, also still wearing his running shorts and shirt. “I could have been naked!”

“I was hoping,” he said with a smile, his dark eyes full of mischief … and promises. I looked at him with a raised brow. “I knew you weren’t. I saw you getting in.”

I kept my eyes open and on him as I stepped backwards into the spraying water. The heat felt like heaven, and my body immediately relaxed. Brock moved closer, his skin covered in goose bumps, and I reached up to move the showerhead to include him. Our arms slid around each other, and we stood silently under the water until both of our bodies stopped shivering.

At least … shivering from the cold, because then we began trembling from each other’s touches.

Brock’s hands moved up to my cheeks, cupping them gently as he tilted my head up toward his. His smoldering gaze alone sent a flame of heat through me. Water flattened his hair and flowed down his face, off his nose and over his full lips, and I wanted to lick it off. I slid my tongue out, catching the falling water. His eyes flared even more before he leaned in with puckered lips and sucked the water off my mouth, drawing my bottom lip in, too. A new chill ran through me at the same time that a ball of warmth blossomed in my belly. I gripped his face in return and licked and sucked the water tumbling over his mouth. Our lips meshed, our tongues lapped, our bodies pressed closer and closer together until no space remained between us.

My heart galloped away at breakneck speed, my lungs striving to keep up as I drew in small shallow breaths between kisses, until finally I had to lean my head back to draw in more air. Brock seized the opportunity, moving one hand to the nape of my neck, cradling me while sliding his mouth over my jaw and using his other hand against my lower back to lift me upward, closer to him. His hot lips on my skin, his tongue swirling against my throat, his mouth sucking at me and the water did nothing to help the whole breathing thing. And his desire growing between us only fueled the ball of fire in my belly whose flames now licked downward.

Brock’s arms slid around me, and he lifted me fully off my feet. I wrapped my legs around his waist and whimpered in his strong arms as his lips traveled back up to my ear and his erection pressed into my shorts.

“This is better,” he murmured as he straightened, not having to hunch over me to plant his mouth against mine again.

The steam from the shower, rising from our bodies, the heat within as his tongue plunged my mouth intoxicated me. I became lost in the sensuality, in the way his full, soft lips moved with mine, how his fingers slid softly over my skin, how he was gentle and hot and urgent all at the same time. He made me drunk with his kisses, and I think I made him drunk with mine. There was no thinking. No more talking. Only kissing and licking and caressing.

Our hands slid under each other’s shirts at the same time, and we peeled them off within seconds. My fingers skittered over the fine contours of his torso, exploring the hills and valleys of his muscles as his mouth and tongue learned the dips and edges of my collarbone and shoulder. When he found one of my most sensitive places, where my neck curved into my shoulder, and his lips sucked as his tongue swirled, I moaned and pressed myself against him, rubbing against his tip. His teeth nipped at me before his lips clamped down, and my pelvis involuntarily rocked against him. His erection became rock hard between us. My breasts felt full and tight, my nipples little marbles straining against my bra.

I unwrapped my legs from his waist and slid down his body to my feet, the friction of my breasts against him fueling the flames. His hands slid up my bare sides and ribs and pushed under the sports bra, lifting it, freeing my breasts from the confines. He brought it over my head, then dropped it with the other wet clothing that was piling up at the other end of the bathtub. Our gazes locked and held as we removed our shorts and then stood there, the shower raining down on our naked bodies, steam rising from our feverish skin.

Brock’s hand reached out, and every inch of my skin tightened, aching for his touch. His fingertips brushed my wrist and lightly trailed up my arm, over my collarbone, down my sternum, between my breasts, and over my flat stomach. He stroked a circle around my belly button, and the fire exploded, making my knees knock and my thighs clench. I circled my hands over his wrist and pushed it downward, between my legs. His fingers stroked the edges at first, making me whimper, and finally one delved further inward. My mouth parted with a moan, and my eyelids fell halfway down, but never did his eyes leave mine.

His other hand slid over the small of my back, his fingers over my ass, and he pulled me a step closer, causing my belly to rub against his erection and his fingers to slide inside me. We both moaned now, and what had felt like a sensual dream in the clouds of steam instantly became urgent, frenzied. Our mouths couldn’t devour the other fast enough. Our hands moved frantically, wanting to touch every bit of the other person at once. He backed me into the wall, and reached around me to turn off the water as he looked down into my eyes. My skin screamed for his touch, and my insides ached for him to fill me, but my heart and soul were drowning in those beautiful, deep, dark eyes that invited me to gaze through them, into his soul.

“I love you, Asia,” he said, his voice thick and husky. “I’m sure of it. I don’t need to think about it a second longer, so please don’t force me to. Don’t turn me away again. Because I most definitely know I want to make love to you.”