Every Way (Brush of Love 4)

He filled me again, and it rendered me speechless.

“We have your successful art career, and my work at the foundation.”

He picked up his pace as he leaned his lips down to mine.

“We even have each other,” he said against my skin. “And to me? That’s the most important one of all.”

My hands slid up his back and dug into the meat of his muscles. His hips connected with mine time and time again, bouncing my chest against his. I could feel his girth throbbing against me, growing bigger than I’d ever felt as his lips kissed my neck. He nibbled and sucked. He bit into my shoulder and cupped my breasts. His hips rolled into mine as his tightly-wound curls raked against my clit, and it curled my toes and spiraled me into yet another oblivious state.

Only this time, Bryan’s mouth swallowed my groans.

I climaxed against his body again as he smiled against me. I was shaking underneath him, pressing my hips up toward his. I wanted his thickness as deep as I could get him. I wanted him to touch me in all the ways no man had ever done before. His hand snaked around my waist, drawing my hips closer to him as his lips wrapped around my nipple.

And I shivered as he continued his assault on my body.

Chapter 13

Bryan

I was sitting in my office going through some financial reports when my cell phone rang. I slid it from my pocket and picked it up without looking at the number, and I cursed myself for not seeing who it was. Because the moment my mother’s voice hit my ears, I knew I was in for a treat.

And not the good kind.

“Hello, Bryan.”

“Mother,” I said. “Is something wrong?”

“Would something need to be wrong in order for me to call my son?” she asked.

“When I’m at work, yes.”

“How is work going, by the way?” she asked.

“It’s fine.”

“So the foundation is still alive and well?”

“Mother, what do you want?” I asked.

“I just want to talk with my son. Can’t you afford me that? Haven’t I lost enough?”

“You don’t get to use John’s death to get what you want,” I said.

“That is not what I am doing, and you know it,” she said.

“Really? Because it sounds an awful like what you just tried to do.”

“I miss my son. Our family dinner is coming up soon, and I want you and Hailey with us.”

“Then you know what you have to do,” I said. “All you have to do is apologize to Hailey for how you talked to her.”

“I do not. She has said plenty of things to me over these last few months that should have warranted apologies, and never once did I get one.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“Like that fun little tirade she went on right before the art gallery showcase when she accused your father and me of being pompous and allowing our money to change us. You remember that dinner? She was the one who stormed out, not me.”

“Because she had a point, and she was tired of you trying to degrade her for the profession in life she chose. Which is funny, because that’s exactly why she and her parents aren’t close now. Because they did the same thing. They looked down their noses at her for choosing a life of art and passion instead of a life of money and misery,” I said.