I try to sit still as Brody carries his bag into my house but it’s impossible. I’m bustling around the room straightening up, giving a tour at a mile-a-minute pace, and asking him about fifty thousand different questions, none of which he answers.

He stands in the middle of my living room and looks around as if he doesn’t know what to do with himself. And not that I can blame him, my house is about the opposite of his. Every inch is covered with my stuff, from art I bought at various auctions and directly from artists I love, to special fancy candles, to a dozen different little knickknacks scattered across shelves, tables, counters. Basically, any surface that can hold stuff has stuff.

“I know it’s not what you’re used to,” I tell him as I compulsively fold a blanket that was already perfectly folded. “But I mean, you’ll adapt, right? And you’re not here for that long. And you’ll be at your normal house most of the time in the mornings and you’ll be in the office during the day, so really you’re only here for a little while and when you’re sleeping, which doesn’t really count, so honestly you only have to deal with it for like three hours, max.”

“Elena,” he says, cutting in when I’m finally forced to take a breath. “I love your place.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Really? You do?”

“I do,” he says, taking the blanket from me and putting it back where it was. “It’s very… feminine. But it’s very you.”

“And you like that?”

He nods slowly. “I like that.”

I take a deep breath and put my hands on my hips. “Well then. We don’t have anything to worry about, right?”

He laughs and makes me take him up to the bedroom. It’s weird watching Brody move through my space, looking at my books, glancing into my overstuffed closet, putting his things in the bathroom. This house has been mine since I turned eighteen, and ever since then it’s been my private little world tucked inside the comfort of the oasis. Even though I’ve had people over here, I’ve never had someone live with me before.

“I got you something,” he says and unzips one of the smaller pockets on his luggage. “Just a little housewarming gift.”

“Housewarming?”

“Since we both live here now.” He smirks at me and pulls out a little ceramic duck. It’s the same one from his kitchen, the little trinket I made fun of. I put it right on my nightstand.

“I’ll name him Earl.”

“That’s a good name for a duck.”

“Right? I don’t know why, but it just feels good.” When I try to walk past him, he grabs my wrist and pulls me down into his lap. I let out a surprised yelp, but he holds me there and stares into my eyes, and I get that sudden and intense yearning in my guts as his mouth is close to mine and his sweet-smelling breath makes my tongue rub against my lower lip.

“You don’t have to worry about making me feel comfortable,” he says and one of his hands moves around to cup my ass.

My eyebrows raise. “Seems like you’re doing a good job of that yourself.”

“Exactly. I’ll manage without you fussing.”

“You know me though, I like to fuss.” And I smile a little because that’s true, he does know me now. We were strangers for a while but after the last few days, I feel like I’m finally starting to get comfortable with him.

It helps that kissing him is like heaven, and he’s really good at going down on me.

“This isn’t some test you have to pass. I know you want to live in the oasis, and you understand that there are pressures keeping me away. We’ll figure out some compromise if that’s what you want, or we’ll do something else. Either way, it’ll be fine.”

His palm brushes across my cheek. I lean into it, my heart pattering quickly in my chest. “Why are you so reasonable?” I ask. “That’s just about the most level-headed thing I’ve ever heard.”

“My father taught me to keep my emotions in check.”

I shift my weight and feel him stiffening beneath me. My god, this guy is always freaking horny, though I can’t really complain or judge since I’m pretty sure I’m dripping right about now.

“It sounds like your family was close with him.”

“Very close. He was a good man.” His lips brush my neck. “I’ve always wanted to be like my father, and now that I’m sitting in his chair and filling in his shoes, I wonder if I had enough time to learn all of his lessons.”

“I’m sure you did.” I let out an involuntary whimper when his mouth kisses the corner of my jaw. “I mean, you seem like you have it together.”

“Because I have to. My father always taught me to never let my emotions make decisions for me. That’s how a person gets in trouble, when their emotions do all the work.”

“You can be a little emotional,” I whisper, running my hands through his thick, dark hair. “Sometimes, right? With some things?”

“I don’t know.” He pulls back, staring at me with the most conflicted gaze I’ve ever seen. “He always said that the leader of our family gives all of himself to the organization. I saw that in him every day. He woke early and stayed up late, and the welfare of his people was always on his mind. He cared, and he showed it by not caring too much.”

I’m breathing fast now. His hands move up my back, sending tingles along my spine.

“Sometimes you’re just a man,” I say and kiss his neck. He lets out a soft groan. “And that’s okay. You don’t have to be a leader every second of your life. Sometimes, you can let someone else take charge.”

I kiss him up and up, toward his chin, up to his mouth, and I bury his lips with mine. I grind against him and feel his cock stiffen even more until it’s like he might rip through his pants and slide deep inside of me. I moan into his mouth, letting his taste flood me, letting the feeling of his hands all over my body drive me wild.

But something he said keeps resonating. He wants to bury his feelings. He wants to hide them. Because that’s what he thinks he has to do, because that’s what a real leader’s meant to be, like his father was before him. But that doesn’t have to be Brody.

I slip off him and drop to my knees. His eyes burn into mine as I unbuckle his belt and hurriedly unbutton his jeans, tugging them off, revealing black boxer-briefs. I glide my palm up and down his thick, hard cock, and he grabs my hair, pulling me into a crushing kiss.

I tug at his underwear until they come off. His fingers slide up my shirt and I let him toss it aside before I unhook my bra then press my breasts against his hard dick. He groans, staring, one hand teasing a nipple as I stroke him on my knees.

“I want to ask where this came from, but I also don’t want you to stop,” he says, his voice gruff, one hand on my breasts and the other in my hair.

I lick my palm and stroke him faster. “I was thinking maybe you need to feel something for once.”

“Like my cock in your hand?”

“My hand?” I smile, head tilted. “Who said anything about just my hand?” I lean forward and lick his crown, circling it with my tongue, before taking him deep into my mouth.

He lets out the most satisfying grunt I’ve ever heard in my life as I suck him nice and deep then pull back again. His eyes are heavy-lidded and glossy with lust, and my core’s pulsing with magnetic need.

“I don’t know, baby,” he whispers, and I like when he calls me baby. “I’m not sure I felt that.”

“Don’t get greedy now,” I tease.

“I’m very greedy for you, Elena.”

I take him into my mouth again, sucking him faster as my hand works fast. He moans and leans back on his hands as I take control, one hand on his chest, the other working up and down. Spit rolls onto my palm and I’m being a little sloppier than normal, but I’m just as into this as he is. My body’s vibrating with how much he’s enjoying this, and the noises he’s making are absolute heaven.

“You look so fucking good,” he growls. “My god, Elena, that feels so fucking incredible. Don’t stop.”

I could suck this man’s cock every day if he keeps on appreciating me like that. I go faster, hollowing my lips and sucking harder, and he releases a strangled cry as I go nice and deep. I’m in control now and this is my power, the ability to make him feel even if he thinks he can’t. He wants me, even when he tries to make himself stop, and it’s so gratifying to make him lose control, even for a little while.

“Elena, baby, keep going,” he pleads and I’ve never heard his voice sound like that before. I’m absolutely in love with this man’s dick in my mouth right now. “Don’t stop, baby.”

I moan, unable to help myself, and it takes only two more strokes of my hand and my lips before I taste him come on my tongue. I lap him up, letting him finish before pulling back and swallowing, my head tilted, eyes locked on his.

That fucking kills him. He collapses back with a low groan and drags me up on top of him. I laugh and he doesn’t shy away from kissing me nice and deep.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure if you felt anything just now,” I say, peppering his neck with kisses.

“I’m pretty sure I felt my soul get sucked out of my cock.”

I slap his chest, laughing. “Don’t be gross.”

“I’m not. I mean it. Fucking hell, baby, that was incredible.”

I snuggle against his neck, grinning. “I like when you call me baby.”

He’s quiet for a second. I’m worried I just ruined it by pointing it out, but then he pulls me tighter against him.

“I like calling you that,” he says. “Now take off your pants and sit on my face.”

“Oh my god,” I say, laughing again, and slap his hands away when he tries to drag me onto him again. “Cut it out. That was a special moment all for you, now don’t try to ruin it.”

“Fine,” he says and sounds genuinely disappointed. “Maybe later.”

“Brody, if you’re extremely nice to me, I will grace you with the present of sitting on your face.”

“Wonderful.” He sighs and looks at me, and I watch some of his calm seep away. “But I should warn you. I’m going out with your brothers tonight.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Excuse me? You just moved in.”

“It isn’t for fun. I told Simon about my family joining the war and he’s already making plans.”

Disappointment and worry shoot through me. “Already? That has to be tonight?”

“I know. It wasn’t my choice, but it shouldn’t be dangerous.”

“Is Davide coming?”

He hesitates, but nods.

“Then it’ll be dangerous.” I punch him in the arm and get up, pulling on my clothes. So much for that nice moment. Now I have a whole new set of problems to worry about.

“I won’t be late,” he says as I stand up and turn my back on him, tugging my shirt over my head.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I say and head downstairs to start stress cooking because this is my life now.

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