“That’s sad,” she replied quietly.
“Yeah, it is sad what people do to each other.”
“No.” Shaking her head, she collected the empty pizza box and rose to her feet. “It’s sad no one’s ever loved you enough to inspire you to believe in them.”
As she started up the stairs Brad blinked. What the hell? How had she just turned that entire conversation around? He scrambled to his feet and looked up the staircase to where she crossed the upstairs hall. “What makes you think I don’t believe in people?”
“Because if you did, you’d know what it feels like to want to hold on and never let go.”
“I know what it feels like,” he muttered. Hell, he experienced that longing every time he touched her.
“What?” she called down from the kitchen.
“Noth—” No. He wasn’t dodging this conversation because she might take it the wrong way. Taking the stairs two at a time, he joined her on the upstairs landing. “I said I know what that feeling is.”
She let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “Oh?”
As she dropped the box into the trash can, he closed the distance between them. Setting his hands on her shoulders, he looked her in the eye. “Why do you think I kept you up all night? Why I texted you tonight?”
The humor in her eyes vanished. Her lips parted, and she went utterly still.
“I know what it’s like to not be able to get enough, Cassie.” Against his will, his voice lowered to a husky, intimate tone. “I touch you and want to hold on. But I’m not seeing white dresses and tuxedos. I’m aching to kiss you, to run my hands over your body, to sink deep inside you and hear you call my name.”
His hands moved of their own volition, sliding down her arms, over her hips to cup her buttocks and trap her in place. He took a step forward, bringing his body against hers. His fingers dug into the toned muscle beneath his palms. She shuddered against him. “I want that, and that’s not marriage.”
“No.” Her gaze fastened on his mouth. “No, it’s not,” she whispered.
Brad brushed a kiss across her temple. “It turns you on to hear me admit I want you, doesn’t it?”
Again, she shivered. Ever so slightly, her chin dipped in a slow nod.
“Say it,” he murmured against her hair. He ran his hands over her bottom. “Admit you want me.”
A quiet, strangled cry of frustrated surrender broke from her throat. Her arms wound around his waist. “I want you, Brad,” she whispered.
The simple admission launched raw lust through his veins. In a heartbeat, his cock was hard, his body straining against the primal urge to satisfy that hard-won confession. He bent his head and let his mouth hover over hers. “Kiss me, sweetheart. Prove it to me.”
She lifted to her toes, brought her fingertips to his face, and captured his mouth. Unlike her verbal reluctance, no hesitation came with the stroke of her tongue. She claimed what she wanted with greedy abandon, slid her hands to the sides of his head, and tangled her fingers tightly into his hair. Before Brad could choke the sound down, a groan tore from his throat. Something feral and untamed broke inside him. His hands roved over her back, crushing her against his body. He wedged a knee between her thighs, aligning them even closer. His own fingers latched into her long hair, wrapping around those silken lengths until he’d gathered a fistful, and held her in place so he could take what he wanted from her mouth. Still, it wasn’t enough.
In one swift move, he spun her around and pinned her against the wall. Her startled cry connected with his brain. He tore his mouth away, sank his hips hard against hers, holding her in place. Their labored breathing rasped between them. She held his gaze, silent acceptance reflected in her stare.
And Brad became lost in those wide, wondrous eyes. Mesmerized by the softness of her expression, the touch of wonder that reflected back at him, he brushed his knuckles across her cheek, traced her lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “Cassie,” he whispered.
The rest of the thoughts that flitted through his brain refused to form words. He tried, but they were too disjointed to be coherent. Instead, he drew her into a gentle kiss.