Craving (Steel Brothers Saga 1)

Jade

He didn’t respond to my kiss.

My skin tingled all over, and my pussy was still throbbing. His cock hadn’t been inside me for long, but God…for the few seconds he had penetrated me, I’d felt complete in a way I hadn’t ever.

Or maybe I was just horny.

I was wildly attracted to Talon Steel. No denying that. But on the other hand, how much of this was the rebound thing? I had just been left at the altar.

And now I had to live here in the same house with him. Had this been a complete mistake?

But as I looked at him lying on his back, his arm over his forehead and his eyes closed, I couldn’t think it had been a mistake. Perhaps it would be awkward between us from now on, but I would never regret this.

I couldn’t help a smile. He had come very quickly. That meant he had wanted me, or at least that he found me wickedly attractive. I’d take either at this point.

Now what? It was the middle of the night. Should I get up and go back to my own room? Did he want me to stay?

I wanted to stay. Talon Steel was so… I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. All I knew was I had an overwhelming need and desire to offer him comfort. I had no idea what might be comforting for him, but something in me knew he needed it.

Slowly I trailed my hand over his forearm. He jerked at first.

“Shhh,” I said softly. “Let me.”

He relaxed slightly. Though still tense, at least he didn’t make me stop. I feathered my fingers up his forearm, his upper arm, to his shoulders. Then down over his abdomen, tracing gentle circles around each of his nipples. I glided my hand down his chest over his abs, down to his dark thick patch of pubic hair. I entwined my fingers in it, purposely avoiding his cock. This wasn’t about sex. This wasn’t about turning him on. This was about giving him comfort.

I sat up a little so I could move my hand down his thick muscular thigh, his calf, all the way down to his ankle and his foot, I gently trailed my fingers over his instep and then moved to the other foot, the ankle, the calf, the thigh back up to his pelvis, his beautiful torso, to his shoulder and then his other arm, all the way down to his hand. I squeezed each finger gently and then went back up his arm across the shoulder and back down his other arm to the hand near me.

I pulled the blankets over our bodies, entwined my fingers with his, and lay back down next to him on my back.

I would stay until he told me to leave.

* * *

I was sitting in a plush seat of the Boettcher Concert Hall in Denver, my fingers weaved around Talon’s. I massaged his thumb with mine. He looked at me and smiled. Smiled! A symphony orchestra was playing Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons. The music drifted toward me, the beauty and gentility of spring…lovely. And then summer. The birds singing through the fields, the sweet summer breezes, and then the violent lightning storm of cellos.

I opened my eyes.

Oh! I was still in bed next to Talon. The music was coming from his phone. He must have set the alarm. Still he lay, not moving, his arms haphazardly strewn over his forehead. Our fingers were still intertwined. Roger lay sleeping at his feet.

Now what? Should I wake him? Should I get my clothes on and leave?

That would be the easiest course of action. Put on my clothes quietly and sneak out before he woke.

But if I did that, he might never acknowledge that last night had taken place. So I gathered my courage, gulped, and gently nudged him.

He shot up in bed. “What?”

“Calm down. It’s just me.”

He turned to me, his eyes full of smoke. “What are you doing in here?”

“Don’t you remember? We fell asleep together after we…”

He raked his fingers through his disheveled hair. “Oh, shit.”

Not exactly what I’d wanted to hear. “You sweet-talker, you,” I said.

Talon grabbed the covers, tented them, and looked underneath. “Fuck.” He swung his legs over to the side of the bed, got up—God, his ass was great—found his pajama bottoms, and quickly put them on. “Listen. Last night never happened. You got that?”