50 Shades of Drake 3 and 4

Torn: Chapter Seventy-Nine

    Light touching. Chaste kisses, in a light-filled room. Loving gazes and curious fingertips traveling over inches upon inches of bare skin. Brian left no area unexplored; he only had one hand at his disposal, and he put it to use.

    Destiny lie on her stomach with her head resting on folded arms as he trailed his fingers down her back.

    It was easy to picture having a life with her, this life with her. A life where they made love every night and had candid conversations. A life where he fell asleep holding her close to him. It might not be as easy for her to picture a life with me, he thought, opening his eyes and angling a look down at the top of her head. She might have more trouble visualizing it, with Aubrey's larger-than-life personality in the way. But we could be really happy together. I hope she realizes that. As much as he hated to think about Aubrey in a moment as beautiful as this one, he couldn't help but wonder how he compared to the head honcho of Graham Enterprises when it came to bedroom skills. With the odds and ends he'd found in his ex-girlfriend's belongings, he knew that Aubrey was into some pretty heavy duty kink. Does she find me boring compared to him? Brian wondered, bringing his hand up the curve of her rear end while swiveling his gaze to her face.

    Her eyes were closed and a small smile crept onto her face as he skimmed her rear end with his hand. "What are you thinking?"

    He turned his head and moved his hand up her back. "Just thinking about how amazing that was."

    "It was amazing," she breathed out, her smile widening.

    His heart did a few cartwheels in his chest. "Yeah?"

    Her eyes fluttered open and she peered up at him. "I felt very...connected to you."

    "Same here."

    She raised up on one elbow. "The last time we were together, it was great. But...this time, it was different. You were different."

    "We were different."

    "Yeah." She lapsed into silence for a moment, fidgeting with the bed sheets. "Last time, there were a lot of things going on around us. This time, it was just us. You and me. No outer influences, no outer distractions or worries or fears, just...us being together. It was beautiful."

    Everything she was saying echoed his own feelings. Hearing her speak the words he was thinking made his heart sing. He wanted a life with her more than he wanted his next heartbeat. In this moment, he knew that he would literally do anything for her, sacrifice anything just to be with her. That realization was both exhilarating and terrifying. Because if she doesn't choose me, I'll have to find a way to live without her...without this. His hand froze on her shoulder blade.

    "Brian?"

    "No woman has ever made me feel the way you do," he said quietly. A lump formed in his throat and he fought to swallow past it. "We're taught not to make extreme statements. Statements like, 'I'm the best basketball player in the world,' or 'I'm the nicest guy in the world.' We're taught not to make these statements because there is a very low chance that the statement will be accurate, with the amount of people walking the face of this earth. But...I can say that you are the most beautiful, sexiest woman on this planet. I can say that without a doubt and feel in my bones that it's one hundred percent accurate."

    She shook her head. "You're just being your normal sweet self," she said, sitting up and kissing him on the shoulder.

    "No, I'm not," he insisted. "I'm saying that with a completely objective frame of mind."

    "Can you be objective? When it comes to me?"

    He lowered his gaze and chuckled. "Maybe not."

    She poked at his cast. "We should shower and...didn't you say you have some kind of gadget that dries your cast out?"

    "Yeah," he said, standing from the bed. "If I don't dry it out, it'll smell like something crawled in it and died tomorrow morning." He yawned and scratched his head.

    She laughed and threw a pillow at him. "That's a great visual to paint for me after banging me senseless. Thanks, Bri."

    He bent down at the waist, picked up the pillow, and threw it back at her. "It's nice of you to throw large objects at a man who's practically handicapped," he joked.

    "You weren't acting like a handicapped man twenty minutes ago," she countered, tossing the pillow back at him.

    He growled and leaned down to kiss her.

    She rose up on her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck.

    "Touche'," he murmured against her lips, brushing her hair back from her face.

    She grinned at him with a mischievous glint in her eye. "You thought you were going to guilt trip me because of that injury," she said against his mouth while combing her fingers through the dark hair at the nape of his neck. "But that broken arm didn't keep you from making my toes curl."

    He looked at her from beneath lowered lids, his signature lopsided grin carving into his face. "Point taken."

    "That broken arm didn't keep you from making me scream out your name," she whispered, sucking on his earlobe.

    "Destiny," he ground out in a warning tone.

    "It didn't stop you from fucking my brains out." She moaned into his ear.

    "Are you trying to get something else started?" Brian demanded, pulling back. "Because I can go again."

    Her eyes lowered down the length of his body, and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth at the sight of his arousal. "You certainly can," she breathed out.

    He raised a knee and set it down on the bed.

    "But," she said, angling a look at his cast, "maybe we should continue this in the shower."

    His brows furrowed in confusion.

    "After a second round, we'll probably both pass out and then we'll wake up with your cast smelling like someone died in it," she reminded him.

    He burst out laughing and stepped back from the bed.

    "I mean...those were your words, right?" she asked him in a mock-innocent tone.

    "Shut up and get your ass in the bathroom," he said, still laughing as he disappeared into the master bathroom.