3 Seconds (Time for Love 6)

“God, you feel amazing.” His voice sounded like it was coming through a tunnel, my brain was so focused on the pleasure that my body was receiving. Brendan lightly stroked my ass with one hand, as his other pumped in and out of me, and when he flicked his thumb repeatedly over my clit, I felt my orgasm start to build.

“God, yes,” I whispered, half out of my mind. “Don’t stop or I’ll fucking kill you.”

I knew I sounded like a psycho, but was beyond caring. The build was already unlike anything I’d ever felt before, so I just knew I was about to come hard. I didn’t care if he knew it, I just needed him to get me there. Now!

“Hold on, Freckles,” he said, his breath hot against my neck. I heard a rustle and tear, and barely had time to register the fact that he was protecting us both, before I lost his fingers. I was about to scream out at the loss … Yes, seriously … scream, when they were replaced with something a helluva lot better.

He braced my hips with his hands as he thrust inside, and I pushed back to meet him, grinding as I met his rhythm. I felt a dangerous thrill when he grasped the bulk of my hair in his hand and tugged it and he moved. Once our pace was set, I nearly wept with relief when he bent over me and began circling my clit once more.

With the smell of sex in the air, and the sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure, I lost myself in the feel of his thighs slapping against mine, and let myself go. Completely.

I don’t know how long I came, or how long it took for him to join me, I was too lost in the moment, but when I finally came to, we were sprawled out on the bed, slick with sweat and breathing heavily. I felt my lips curve up in satisfaction, as I drifted off into a sleep induced by good drinks and fantastic sex.

I awoke with a start sometime later. The room was dark, and the light from the alarm clock said it was four a.m. I got up slowly, and gathered my things as quietly as I could, giving Brendan one last long look before I tiptoed down the stairs, shoving my cell phone in my purse, my shoes dangling from my fingertips.

I didn’t leave a number, or anyway for him to get ahold of me. I figured this was probably his MO, and didn’t want to seem like a clinger by leaving anything behind … or worse, like a groupie who didn’t know when to let a one-night stand be a one-night stand.

I gave him a mental high-five for a fantastic time as I slipped out of his loft, assuming I’d never see him again. At least I’d always have a great story, and the memory of the hot singer with a sexy smile and smokin’ young body.

Chapter Three ~ Brendan

As I pulled my bike into the parking garage near my culinary school, I felt a rush of anticipation at getting back in the kitchen. The time I’d spent abroad had been a priceless learning experience, but I was ready to finish what I’d started, and there was only one semester standing in my way. After graduation, I was sure I would land the job of my dreams, working with Chef Agard in one of his restaurants.

I’d had the pleasure of meeting and working with him during my time in France, and was eager to learn more from the master of French cuisine.

I shrugged on my chef’s coat as I entered the building, and stopped with a grin when I saw a couple of my buddies talking as they set up their stations.

“Bren,” my friend and fellow student, Hector, called in greeting when he looked up and saw me approaching. “Long time no see, brother, how’s it been?”

We slapped hands, then I turned to do the same with Jerrod, our other buddy.

“Yeah, man, how was Europe?” he asked.

“Great,” I answered as I found my way to an open station, the students at the others already laying out their equipment. “We’ll have to grab a drink and I’ll tell you all about it.” I nodded toward the front, where the instructor usually perched, and asked, “Gordon still crazy as ever?” Referring to the teacher who’d busted our balls for two years.

“Nah,” Jerrod said, shaking his head. “Didn’t you hear? Gordon got sick and had to take some time off. They got some hot shot to take his spot. I guess she trained under Chef Agard, and owns that Irish Pub downtown.”

At the sound of my mentor’s name I perked up.

I was about to ask more when movement at the front of the room indicated the instructor had arrived, and I looked up to see … Bronagh.

I had a sudden flash of creamy skin smattered with freckles, and the sultry moans I’d coaxed from the gorgeous woman standing at the head of the class. She had her hair pulled back in a bun, and was wearing a standard chef coat, complete with the culinary school’s crest, and Chef Bronagh Callaghan written over her left breast.

My first thought was, Hell, yes, there she is … I’d woken up to find my bed empty, which wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, but I’d been surprised to find my mind wandering back to that night occasionally over the last few days. There was something about her … that hair, those tits, that ass … and the sexy-as-fuck way she’d responded to my hands on her body.

It didn’t suck to see her standing before me now, but when her gaze flitted over me, then came back and her eyes widened in shock, I realized that the feeling might not be mutual.

I bit back disappointment. She obviously wasn’t stoked about finding me sitting in her class, and assured myself that I hadn’t been alone in my loft that night. The sex had been amazing. Powerful, potent, and downright animalistic. I knew she’d felt it too; her pleasure had been pretty obvious. I’d been with enough women to spot a fake, and there was no way Bronagh had been faking when we were together.

I just had to remind her of that fact, and convince her that one night was not enough to explore the chemistry we had. I had to have her again, which surprised me.

I wouldn’t mind getting her back in my bed, hell, I’d even snuggle a bit, then get up and make breakfast for her.

Going back for seconds wasn’t normal for me, being more the “hit it and quit it” type. It was the damndest thing, and I had no idea what it meant, but I wanted to find out.

Class started and I found it impossible to concentrate. All I could think about was Bronagh’s luscious body quive

ring beneath mine. I was like a man possessed.