When We Touch (The Heartbreak Brothers 5)

“Please…”

“Please what?” He crossed his fingers, the knotty pressure of his knuckles sending sparks of electricity down her thighs.

“I need you inside me, please,” she gasped. How could he bring her to the edge with only a few touches? How many little deaths was she going to have tonight?

“I need you ready.”

“I’ve been ready since the first time you scowled at me.” Her words were breathless. He was still teasing her, coaxing pleasure.

“I was scowling because I wanted you.”

“I wanted you, too.” It was more than want. It was need. She needed him inside her like she needed air. A smile flitted over his lips. He curled his fingers, finding the spot inside her that nobody had discovered before, and she convulsed beneath him, pleasure washing over her as he kissed her breasts, her throat, as his hand slid beneath her thigh to gently part her legs.

She could feel the weight of him against her, even though he was bracing himself with his elbow. The warmth of him, too. His hard body pressed against her, his thickness slowly spreading her apart as he gently eased himself inside, his face contracting with pleasure as his hips grazed hers.

She felt so full, the sensation of him causing her muscles to ripple around him. He pulled back and pushed forward again, his fingers digging into her behind, his lips capturing hers as he muttered soft oaths against her mouth.

When their eyes met, she felt something inside of her twist. Her chest felt tight, as though she was falling. He pulled her hips higher, until he was rolling his body against her in a maddeningly delicious rhythm, making every muscle inside of her tighten.

“Daniel,” she breathed.

“I’ve got you.” He dropped his brow against hers, his breath stilted, his body covered with a sheen of sweat. She held onto his shoulders as though she was clinging to life, the roll of her hips urging him deeper, harder, and her stilted words begging him not to stop.

Oh god, oh god, it was happening again. This mort wasn’t petite. It was big and rolling and it was going to kill them both. Her cries were loud, her grip on him hard. He cupped her jaw, slipping his thumb between her lips, groaning as she sucked him. Then he reached down, touching her as they moved together, his thumb circling and caressing until she could only babble incoherently.

She was flying. She was falling. She was everywhere and nowhere. He tensed against her, an animalistic grunt escaping his mouth, his arms circling her waist and pulling her against him as he spilled inside her. Her perspiration mixed with his, their bodies slipping and sliding as his face contorted with pleasure. Slowly he released her, until her back fell against the mattress.

“Dear Lord,” she whispered. “You killed me four times tonight.”

“Give me five minutes and I’ll work on a fifth.” He rolled onto his back, pulling her against him. She waited for him to laugh, but he didn’t. Was he serious? Didn’t he know she might really die this time?

He brushed the hair away that was sticking to her cheek, dipping his head to press his lips against her. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. His eyes fluttered closed, his breath evening out as he regained composure.

“Your mom told me I’m the only person who’s ever made you smile this much,” Becca whispered, not sure if he even heard her. Maybe it didn’t matter. The words warmed her anyway.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Daniel walked into his mother’s dining room, nodding at Lawrence and Nina who were already sitting at the table, sipping at their coffees. He poured himself a cup from the pot on the counter, not bothering to add any cream as he took a seat opposite them. Nina gave him a smile. Of the four siblings, she was always the one to try to smooth things over. She and Nathan had gotten all of their respective mothers’ peacemaker skills, and Daniel and Lawrence got their father’s drive and harshness.

“You look tired,” Lawrence said, his eyes scanning Daniel’s face. “I guess that’s what happens when you spend the night wrapped around a younger girlfriend.”

“Lawrence.” Nina wrinkled her nose. “Don’t be disgusting.” She turned to look at Daniel. “He’s right, though. There are shadows beneath your eyes. Have you tested your blood?”

“It’s fine.” He brushed her enquiry away with a soft smile. “My levels are right where they should be. You don’t need to worry.”

“I do worry.” She sighed. “I was the only one who took it seriously when you were younger. Apart from your mom, but when she wasn’t around it fell to me.”

“Remember when Dad took your insulin away and said your body would adapt if you stopped injecting?” Lawrence exhaled through his nose. “Man, you got sick that time.”

There was a relish to his voice that Daniel ignored. He glanced at his watch, it was almost eleven. He wanted to be on the road by lunchtime. Becca had already left, and he wanted to see her again. Just to check that she got home safely. And then he’d beat the shit out of his punching bag.

Something had to happen with all this excess energy he had.

He took a sip of coffee and opened the file he’d brought in, passing a sheaf of paper to his siblings. “Hopefully you’ve had a chance to study the figures. Initial costs, projected revenue, suggested sources of investments.”

Lawrence didn’t glance down at the paper. “I’ve read it. But what I don’t understand is why you want to make a single malt Scotch over here. The company has barely broken even on the International Blend, and now you want to spend more money?”

“The International Blend will be in profit by next quarter. And since there are no more development costs associated with it, the profit should continue. But it won’t grow the business the way I want to. The International Blend appeals to the occasional whiskey drinker. It has a cachet to it, thanks to the marketing campaign. It’s the kind of drink people order in bars to make themselves look good.”