Priceless (Forbidden Men 8)

He didn’t respond, too busy climbing inside. Once the window was shut, he turned, took me in from head to toe, then drew in a deep breath.

“Let me just get one thing perfectly clear,” he said, holding up a stern finger in reprimand.

I crossed my arms over my chest and arched my eyebrows, ready to meet his scolding with full-on sass. “Oh? And what’s that?”

Grabbing a handful of the front of my shirt, he yanked me against him until our mouths crashed together. His tongue roughly sought entrance, wrapping around mine and effectively sucking every thought I’d ever had straight from my brain before he released me and pushed away again, breathing hard.

I blinked, swaying from the quick, powerful assault. Then I pressed my hand to the side of my still-spinning head before yelping, “What the hell?”

“I’m sorry,” he growled, eyes flashing with anger...but mostly with heat. “Maybe you didn’t hear me clear enough.”

And he kissed me again. Just as hard, just as intensely, but maybe a little longer this time.

When he pulled away slowly, I licked my lips, relishing the taste of him on my tongue. Then I drew in a breath, trying to recover from the punch of arousal he’d ignited.

“Okay, maybe you should say that one more time,” I was finally able to utter. “Just so I’m perfectly clear I understand what you mean.”

He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.” This time, the kiss was softer, infinitely longer, and so much hotter. He cupped my face in his hands and coaxed my lips apart before dipping his tongue inside and caressing me from the inside.

“Did you get all that?” he asked between kisses, working his way from my lips and along my jaw to ease down the side of my throat with featherlike kisses that made my stomach cramp with need.

Then his fingers crept up the inside of my shirt before he pushed aside the cup of my bra and palmed my breasts that felt suddenly heavy and sensitive.

My head fell back as I moaned, wanting more.

But he said, “Sarah? I asked you a question.”

“What question?” I slurred, reaching for his shoulder, only for him to pull my hand off him and pin my arm against my side while he tortured my nipple over and over between his thumb and pointer finger.

“You, me, together,” he said, his teeth nipping at my earlobe. “Permanently, being as clingy and possessive, jealous, space-invading boyfriend and girlfriend as we want, because this is happening. We are so fucking happening together. Whether you like it or not, you’re mine...just as I’ve been yours for years. So...do you got all that?”

I drew in a breath, stunned to hear such promises. It was more than I could take.

But he’d been mine for years?

I just...I couldn’t...I loved hearing it as much as it scared the crap out of me.

One thing was for certain, though. There was no fighting it. No matter how crappy and low I’d let myself feel all week, convincing myself we were wrong together, all it took was five seconds with him, and all that self-doubt shattered.

Brandt wanted me for real. I was so getting in on that action.

“Y... yes,” I gasped, aching to touch him the way he was touching me. “I got it.”

“Good.” He dragged off my shirt before he removed his own. “We’ll finish this discussion later. But right now...it’s been five of the most agonizingly long days since I’ve been inside you.”

Suddenly feeling like the impatient brat he was already being, I tilted my head back again, allowing him to continue.

“Proceed then.”

He chuckled. “As you wish, my goddess.”

He peeled down the front of my bra, and I gasped when his mouth latched on to me. I wanted to bury my fingers in his hair and clutch his head for dear life, but I settled for gripping handfuls of the blankets under me.

Unfortunately, neither of us heard my bedroom door open until Reese said, “Hey, Sarah. Do you think you could— Oh my God!”

Brandt and I jerked apart to find my wide-eyed sister-in-law standing just outside my room with Gracen on her hip.

As I slapped my hands over my exposed boobies, Brandt scrambled for his own shirt.