I shook my head. “You’re lying.”
He looked down.
“I understand your need to have distance at work. You don’t want them to know you married a kid—”
“Brooke.”
Okay, so I was milking it a bit too much. “I can take care of myself at work. I don’t need Trina to like me. I don’t need your accolades. My work speaks for itself.”
“It does.”
“But at home, I’d like to be acknowledged as a human being. I make your dinner, and you can barely say two words.”
He looked down. “I don’t know how to do this, Brooke.”
“Do what? Be a human being?”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Be around you and not want you.”
I stopped short. It was the first time he’d really ever told me something like that. The fact that he’d touched me suggested he did want me. His constant avoiding me because of my age and father also indicated he was fighting with himself. Tucker told me that Mo was acting like this because he wanted me. What was different was that Mo had never verbalized it before.
“You can want me, Mo.”
He shook his head.
I reached out and took his face in my hands. “Look at me. Just me. I’m a woman. That’s it. When I look at you, I see a man. Not my father’s friend. I see you, Mo. And I want you.”
He groaned. “Brooke—”
I cut off his protest by kissing him. I expected him to push me away. He hesitated for a moment, but then he sank into the kiss. His arms banding around me and pulling me against him. His dick swelled against my belly.
Yes, I thought. Finally.
He pushed the door to my father’s study closed and pressed himself against it. His kiss was hard and desperate. Or maybe it was me. His hands slid over my breasts, kneading them and pinching my nipples, forcing a moan from me. Wanting to make sure he didn’t stop, I cupped him, running my hand along his length.
“Fuck,” he growled against my neck as his hands slid up my thighs, pulling my dress up.
“Yes, fuck me.”
He groaned again at my words. He pushed my panties down while I undid his pants and freed him. I so badly wanted to see him, but we were both in a crazed frenzy. Here we were in my father’s study, with Mo about to fuck me against the door. I was scared to death that my father would find us. Not scared that he’d know about us, but I didn’t want to get caught mid-fuck. At the same time, it added an exciting element. Something taboo. Wetness gushed between my thighs.
He unzipped my dress, yanking it off my arms. He unhooked my bra, freeing my breasts. With another moan, he leaned over and sucked a nipple. I felt the pull all the way in my pussy.
“Yes, yes.” God, it felt so good when he touched me.
His fingers slid through my pussy lips, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out as my pleasure intensified.
He groaned and dropped to his knees. “You’re so wet. I have to taste you, Brooke. Fuck. I’m dying.” He hooked one of my knees over his shoulder, opening me to him.
He inhaled my scent, let out another explicative, and then his mouth was on me, doing such delicious things to me.
“Yes, oh God…yes…Mo…feels so good.”
His tongue started thrusting inside me as his thumb made circles on my clit. My body started humming and then throbbing as I reached the pinnacle of pressure. He reversed his position, his finger thrusting inside my pussy as his lips sucked on my clit, and I went flying into bliss.
I clasped my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming as pleasure flooded my body, coursing through my blood. He continued his ministrations after the first wave, and soon, I was flying again, my entire body shuddering from the exquisite sensations.
When it finally stopped, he stood. “I have to fuck you.”