The Men Next Door

Ch 29 - Campbell

"You know, I've never actually seen the ball drop," Brooks commented after I brought him back from dreamland for the third time. It was New Year's Eve, and we were both struggling to stay awake by 10:00 PM — even with the energy of the city seeping in through the windows — but I was determined to get a New Year's kiss. "I always fall asleep first or end up getting distracted by whatever's around me."

"Never?" I asked unbelievingly. "You've lived in New York for years — you haven't ever gone to Times Square to watch it in person?"

"Oh hell no. Way too many people there; it's not worth it. And the one time I remembered to look at the TV, it was foggy and I couldn't see a thing."

I shrugged. "It's not that exciting, really. But I'll make sure you focus tonight if you want to see it."

"Unlikely," Brooks quipped.

I tilted my head and looked at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Cam, you're the biggest distraction I've ever had," he explained, reaching over to tuck my hair behind my ear. His thumb traced gently along my cheekbone, and my skin heated up in its wake. "Even if you stand beside the TV and point at the screen as it happens, I'm going to be watching you — not some big clump of metal falling from the sky."

"That's a reach even from you, Mr. Poet," I joked, leaning into his touch. It was simpler to deflect to humor than to accept that words like that could really be intended for someone like me, but Brooks wasn't going to let me off the hook quite that easily.

"Not a reach if it's the truth," he said plainly, pulling me over to straddle his lap. My knees sank into the soft material of the couch, and his eyes immediately darkened when my waist met his own. "You're always taking up my mind these days. Definitely are right now." He glanced down to where we were connected, then back up at me. "And since I've got you blushing anyway... I do believe we have some time to waste."

"Seems like you already have some ideas about how we should spend it," I observed, skimming over the rest of his statements. The last part had captured all of my attention, and my hand trailed absentmindedly down his chest as I waited to hear just what he was planning to do.

"Maybe," he said, brushing his fingers along the curve of my hip. "But maybe I want to hear your ideas, too."

I shook my head. "I'm not good at this. You know that."

"You're plenty good at it when you're begging me to fuck you," Brooks teased.

Everything inside of me clenched at the memory of him making me beg — the night I told him I chose him, and no shortage of nights since. We'd both been learning that a little bit of longing made me extra bold, and the man had figured out just how to make me ache for him. Pretending I didn't want more of that was a needless, losing game.

"I want to stay here. On top of you," I admitted after a few moments of expectant silence. My eyes lingered on his lips so I wouldn't have to hold his steady gaze, and his tongue darted out to wet them before he spoke again.

"That's a good start," he said, tracing down my thigh, back up my side, down again... making me all too aware of his effortlessly commanding presence. "But I know you can give me more. What do you want me to do?"

"I, um..." If my cheeks weren't already flushed, they most definitely would've gotten there as a million filthy thoughts swirled around my mind. "I want you to hold my hands behind my back... so I can't move them."

"You've liked being restrained, hm?" Brooks asked, pulling my shirt over my head. Instead of taking it fully off, he twisted it around my wrists behind me. "Do I have a budding rope bunny on my hands?"