Taking Back His Bride Page 2

  But all I know is, she’s here, and she’s mine. She’s back in my arms, where she’s belongs. Where she’s always belonged.

  “You fucking asshole!” she hollers. “You son of a bitch! You—”

  I stop, flinging her off my shoulder, setting her down, and then jerking back to miss the swing of her hand.

  I almost grin. Goddamn she’s still feisty.

  She hisses and swings again, and I feel the wind of this one before I growl, catching both her wrists in my hands and yanking her into me. We’re in the middle of the fancy restaurant, surrounded by strangers gawking at us like we’re the worst dinner show in the history of dinner shows. Leanna looks up at me, her crystal blue eyes blazing defiantly, her lips tight, and her cheeks reddening.

  “You—”

  She shakes her head.

  “How dare you—”

  There are a million things I could say. I could explain. I could stop and tell her everything right here and now and explain all the lies and the bullshit we’ve both been fed. But I’ve waited too long for this. I’ve been denied her for way too fucking long. And I won’t waste another second where my lips aren’t tasting hers.

  “You can’t just—”

  I grab her, yank her into me, and before she can say another word, my mouth crushes to hers, and my kiss sears possessively and heatedly across her lips.

  There’s one second where she freezes, or where she almost pulls back. But then instinct takes over. Memory takes over, and suddenly, she’s melting into me as she moans into my lips.

  It’s so soft, and so tender, and it’s the only spark I need to light the whole fucking world on fire. I growl as I kiss her fiercely, lips parting, my tongue seeking hers, my hand sliding around her body as I pull her tight to me, like I’ll never let her go.

  Because I won’t. Not ever again.

  I keep on kissing her, ignoring the camera flashes, and the maître d tapping on my shoulder. Fuck them all. I kiss her until I’ve gotten my temporary fill, before I pull away. She’s panting, fire in her eyes as they lock on me. There are so many questions that need answering, so many things to say, but for now, all we need is this.

  I take her hands, and she blushes fiercely as I kiss them both.

  “Let’s go.”

  “Where—”

  “Home,” I growl, and before she knows it, I’ve scooped her up into my arms, like a groom carrying his bride, and carry her away.

  I storm out of that restaurant and into a waiting town car. I can see the millions of questions in her eyes. The car, the cash I threw at the maître d when he wouldn’t shut the fuck up about her bar tab. The suit. She’s used to roughneck me. She’s used to plaid shirts and ripped jeans. She’s about to know the new me too though.

  The second the town car door closes, I’ve got her in my lap, my lips searing to hers as she moans into my mouth. The partition is up between us and the driver, and I take full advantage. My hands slide up, pushing her lily-white dress up those long, smooth, creamy legs of hers. She gasps, grinding to me, panting as I growl into her mouth. My cock throbs rock hard, pulsing against the heat between her thighs, hungry for more. Hungry to taste her once again after all this time.

  We just keep kissing—no words, just lips—as the car winds through the streets until we get to the helipad by the pier. The car stops, and I pull away, letting her off my lap as the driver opens the door for us. Leanna is blushing, panting, and I can still see a gazillion questions in her eyes as I step out, straightening my tailored suit before I reach back to help her out. Her jaw drops at the waiting helicopter when she realizes it’s for us.

  …Or maybe it’s that she sees my name emblazoned across the side of it.

  “Brooks,” she whispers, her hand tightening in mine. “What is this?”

  “It’s a helicopter.”

  She grins, rolling her eyes as she pulls close. She tilts her head back, and when she leans up, I groan and lean in to close the distance. Her soft lips press to mine, and when I pull her into me gently, she melts against my body.

  “I mean,” she breathes. “Why is there a helicopter with your name on it? Who…” she shakes her head. “The suit, that watch,” she blinks as she looks up into my eyes, biting her lip as she smiles.

  “What is all this?”

  “I can explain it all, but first, we need to go.”

  I take her hand, helping her duck as we run towards the waiting chopper. An attendant helps us up into the passenger area—luxurious and noise insulated so we don’t need ear protection or anything and shuts the door. He gives the thumbs up, and the pilot starts to take us up.

  Leanna gasps, pulling into me, excitement on her face as she stares in awe at the city as we lift off into the night sky.

  “Where did you come from?” She whispers, turning to me.

  “Anywhere and everywhere, to get you back,” I groan back, kissing her.

  She melts against me again, before suddenly, she pulls back, looking down. “Brooks—”

  “There’s never been anyone else, angel,” I growl. It’s time to correct the lies, right here, right now. “Not ever.”

  She starts to look away.

  “No,” I growl, cupping her jaw, my eyes burning into hers. “I’m not saying that like a line or to be poetic or some shit. I’m saying it because there has literally never been anyone else.”

  Her eyes go wide.

  “Leanna, we were lied to. They tried to keep us apart, angel,” I say quietly.

  She stares at me incredulously. “Brooks, what are you saying?”

  “They told you I met someone else, and they told me you divorced me.”

  Her jaw hits the floor. “Hang on, what!?”

  I just shake my head, my jaw clenched, thinking of all the time wasted believing the bullshit.

  “There’s only ever been you, angel.”

  “You thought I divorced you?” she whispers, her voice pained.

  “I didn’t want to, but…” I shake my head. “And you thought I left you for another woman?”

  She bites her lip. “I was so mad at you.”

  “How could you ever think that?”

  “Right now,” she whispers, leaning into me. “I have no idea.”

  Our lips crush together again, and we start to fly off into the night. I groan into her, hands gripping her to me tightly as my tongue finds hers. She whimpers into my lips, kissing me hungrily and desperately before she slowly pulls away and glances out the window.

  “Where are we going, by the way?”

  “Home.”

  Leanna arches her brow. “You mean…”

  “Yes.”

  She frowns, chewing on her lip. “Brooks, I don’t—”

  “I know.”

  I know she moved ten months ago to a condo near work, downtown. But she kept the house we’re on our way to. Our house.

  Our home.

  And that’s where we’re going. That’s where I’m going to make her mine all over again. But first, I’m going to remind her just how much I crave her.

  She gasps as I pull her into my lap, legs spreading around my hips as she whimpers and settles onto me. My hands skim her thighs, pushing that dress up as she kisses me hungrily, cupping my face.

  “Brooks—”

  “You’re all mine, angel,” I growl. “And I’m about to take it all back all over again.”

  4

  Leanna

  I’m dreaming.

  It’s the only logical explanation. After all, how else could any of this possibly be happening? It’s too surreal to be real. A year after he vanished, Brooks is here. And not just Brooks, a fantasy version of Brooks.

  He’s even more gorgeous somehow. Hotter. Even more handsome as if that was even possible. He’s bigger too, and stronger—even more intense than he was before.

  And in a suit.

  I mean, that alone says this isn’t real. When has the man I married ever not been in jeans and a white t-shirt? I mean, jeans and a t-
shirt looking like pure sex, of course, but still. And of course, there’s the fact that we’re flying over San Francisco in a freaking helicopter with “O’Neil Enterprises” on the side of it.

  His last name.

  My last name.

  But if this is a dream, I never want to wake up. But then, he just keeps kissing me, and I know I’m not asleep. I know I’m wide freaking awake, and that the man who’s lap I’m perched on, who’s mouth I’m kissing with everything I have, is so real.

  We were lied to.

  His words blaze through me, and suddenly, I’m pulling away, shaking my head.

  “My father…” my body tenses with anger. “That’s who told you I’d left you?”

  He holds back, and I know it’s because even if my father is a bastard and never liked him, Brooks won’t talk negatively about him in front of me.

  “Say it.”

  “Yes,” he finally growls.

  I swear, whirling, rage blowing up inside of me.

  “Leanna—”

  “No, this…”

  I’m shaking. But slowly, he pulls me into him.

  “I’m here now.”

  His eyes blaze into mine, his full attention locked onto me.

  “I’m here, I’ve got you,” he murmurs. His hand tightens on me in a way that sends a thrill through me. “And I am never leaving you again.”

  “My father…”

  “I left, Leanna,” he says quietly, his face darkening. “I could have stayed.”

  “You should have stayed,” I pout.

  His mouth tightens.

  “I had to make something of myself.”

  “You never had to—”

  “I did,” he growls. “I never wanted to leave you, but I had to carve a piece of this world for us.”

  “You didn’t though!” I say, anger still in my voice. But I know what he means. I know a life where Brooks just lived off my trust fund or handouts from my father is never anything he could or would have done. And neither of us knew I’d end up getting the killer job I have now back then. Brooks left because the man in him had the base need to provide.

  …Even if it hurt so bad when he left.

  I sink back into him, kissing him as the city lights twinkles under us.

  “I think I pissed off your date back there.”

  I roll my eyes. “Not my date.”

  I look him in the eyes.

  “Th—there hasn’t been anyone else, you know,” I say quietly.

  “Leanna—”

  “There hasn’t been.” My voice is fierce, my eyes burning into his. “Not one. No one’s touched these lips, no one’s…” I shake my head. “None of me was ever for anyone else.”

  He growls, hands tightening on me.

  “Good,” he murmurs, his gaze holding mine fiercely. “I’d hate to ruin our reunion by going to jail for killing some bastard who put his hands on you.”

  I grin, biting my lips as he moves to my neck. God, that possessiveness in him is… intoxicating. It’s not smothering, like it might be with any other man. With Brooks though, all it does is set a fire in me, knowing that I’m all his—his in a way that feels so safe, and perfect, and amazing.

  “Fuck I missed this. Right here,” he growls, kissing and sucking at that spot on my neck he knows is a trigger for me.

  And it still is.

  I gasp, groaning as I push down onto his lap. The feel of his lips on that magic spot sending heat tingling through my core, and he growls quietly.

  “Still your spot, I see.”

  “Brooks,” I murmur, whimpering as his mouth trails over my skin. “This helicopter, the suit…”

  “Later,” he purrs. “I’m not waiting another second for this.”

  His lips fasten to my neck, biting and sucking hard enough to bruise, but in that way he knows drives me wild. Heat explodes through me, and I can feel my arousal leaking into my panties, making them slick and hot as I grind into his lap. I can feel him there, this thick, hard… fuck.

  No, I never forgot how big he is, or how powerful and thick that gorgeous cock of his is. I mean how the hell could I ever forget that? But it’s been so long, and feeling it now is just… bliss. It’s like it all comes rushing back—how he feels when he pushes inside, stretching me so wonderfully as he fucks me. How he claims me like no other man ever could.

  My love.

  My husband.

  His arms slide to the straps of my dress and as he starts to tug it down, I moan, blushing.

  “Brooks—”

  “The pilot can’t see a thing back here.”

  But the heat still creeps into my cheeks as I turn to nervously look towards the cockpit, even if I believe him.

  “I—”

  “Let me see you, angel,” he purrs, pulling my attention back to him as our eyes lock. “Let me see what I’ve been dreaming about for over a fucking year.”

  He tugs the dress down, making me shiver as his mouth teases down my cleavage. His strong hands cup my full breasts, peeling the cups of my bra away as his lips find my rosy nipples hard and ready. I cry out as he sucks one into his mouth, tonguing it as he peels the dress down to my waist. He groans, hands skimming over my body, touching me and teasing me until the feel of his touch lights fires across my skin. My hands go to his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders as he groans into my breasts.

  “Fuck, angel,” he growls, shrugging the jacket off.

  I’m tearing at his shirt next, pulling anxiously at the buttons, desperate to feel the heat of him, to touch his skin and his body. The shirt pulls away as he unfastens my bra, and I push my hands over his rock-hard chest.

  God he’s even stronger. His muscles thicker, harder. There’s some new ink on his chest, too, and I gasp as I pause to run my fingers over the lettering.

  It’s my name.

  “When—”

  “The week before I heard.”

  I pause, a shadow crossing my face as my jaw tenses.

  “That I’d divorced you.”

  He grimaces.

  “Brooks, I’m amazed you didn’t have it removed.”

  He smiles slowly, shaking his head. “No. Even if you actually had left me, it’d stay right there. Close to my heart. Forever.”

  I melt into him, kissing him, and when I feel his hands slide to my ass and tug my dress up, I moan. He pulls at the rest of the zipper, pulling it down and letting the dress slip to the floor. I shiver, realizing I’m ten-thousand feet up in the air above the city in just a pair of panties, riding my husband’s thick erection.

  And God does that feel good.

  His hands slide to my ass, gripping me tightly as he growls into my skin.

  “Stand,” he groans, his voice rough and tense and demanding.

  “What?”

  “Stand for me, angel.”

  He pulls me off his lap, tugging one high-heeled foot onto the seat next to his thigh.

  “Right here?”

  “Yes.”

  I blush, but slowly, I do as he says, moving to stand on wobbly, heeled feet on either side of his legs on the plush seat. But his hands hold me fast, sliding up my bare legs and gripping me firmly. I moan as I feel his breath against my thigh, and I look down with panting breath as he nuzzles closer to my pussy. He’s so big, and me standing like this has him right in front of where my panties pull tight across my mound.

  “Mmm,” he growls hungrily, his eyes flashing fire as they narrow at the gusset of my thong panties.

  “Naughty girl.”

  And I know he’s seen it—how fucking wet I am. His hand slides up, and when his finger traces over the wet spot darkening the front of my panties, I shiver, moaning. His hand slides higher, fingers hooking into the thin lacy edge of the thong before he starts to tug it down. I whimper as he peels it lower, over my mound, his breath teasing over the small patch of hair above my slit. His tongue swipes at the groove where my thigh almost touches my pussy, and I cry out, my hands sliding into his thick dark hair and ho
lding on firmly.

  He tugs the panties lower, until they stretch tight around my mid-thighs. But suddenly, he growls and yanks hard, and I gasp as they rip, shredding right off of me as he tosses them aside.

  And then, for the first time in over a year, I’m totally bare and naked in front of a man.

  And he’s my husband.

  His hands grip my ass tight and he moves in slowly, his eyes locked between my legs and this look on his face somewhere between a kid about to open his Christmas present and a man totally possessed by lust. He moves closer, his breath teasing me, and when I finally feel that wonderful tongue of his on me, I cry out.

  He groans deeply, his wicked tongue dragging ever so slowly through my lips, dragging the honeyed arousal out of me as pleasure explodes through my body. No wine-fueled late-night solo time with my fingers can compare. None of the toys I bought since his leaving can even remotely come close to this.

  Fuck I missed this.

  I whimper, moaning as he pulls me into his lips. His tongue pushes deep, sliding into me, and making my knees shake as he starts to fuck me with his tongue. My legs tremble, my core tightens, and I grip his hair in my hands for dear life as Brooks starts to devour my slippery little pussy like it’s his last meal on Earth.

  His fingers dig into my skin, and when his tongue slides up to my aching clit, I scream, and suddenly, with barely a touch, I’m coming.

  I cry out, wailing my pleasure as my hips buck against his face. He groans deeply, tonguing my clit right through my orgasm, never stopping or slowing as I shiver and shake for him. I’m panting for air as he moves back to my slit, pushing his tongue deep into my opening as he steadies me with his hands. His finger teases down between the cheeks of my ass, and as his tongue moves back to my clit, I can feel his finger teasing over my tight little asshole.

  God he always knew the dirty things I loved that he did to me.

  His tongue swirls over my clit, and I swear it’s my name I hear groaned into me as he licks me harder and faster, tonguing me higher and higher until I’m gasping for air, my head in the clouds as we fly into the clouds.

  “Brooks—!”

  He slows maddeningly, making me wait for it, making me whimper for more.

  “It’s been almost eighteen months since I tasted this sweet little pussy, angel,” he growls. “You think I’m going to let you come that quick for my tongue?”