He cocks his head, pausing a few seconds before responding. “I’m beginning to see what you really want,” he says. “It’s not so much that you want to stay, it’s that you want to be the one to decide, isn’t it?”
How do he and Tessa seem to know me better than I know myself?
As much as I want him—even standing here in a hotel lobby with guests bustling around late in the evening—I can’t agree to what he’s asking, even if he lets me spend the night. I don’t want to be his fuck buddy.
I want more than that.
“I can’t go back to your bed, Braden.”
“You can.”
“No, I can’t. It just doesn’t feel…”
Braden moves his warm body into my space. “You want to say it doesn’t feel right, Skye. But you’re not that good an actress. It’s a lie, and you know it.”
He’s right. Even though I want more than he’s willing to give me, everything about being with him feels right.
My knees turn to jelly as heat surges through my body like fiery pinballs ricocheting everywhere at once and then landing right between my thighs. He’s close to me, so close I could lean into him and easily regain my balance.
“Come home with me,” he whispers, “and you can leave whenever you want.”
Chapter Twenty
“I… I have to tell Tessa.”
He takes my hand and leads me back to the ballroom. Tessa is sitting at our table when we get there.
“What have you two been up to?” she asks. “We just—”
“We’re leaving,” Braden says. “Can I give you a lift home?”
“I think I’ll stay, actually. Garrett and I are hitting it off. Peter’s a mess, though.”
“What’s wrong?”
“He’s terrified of you,” she says to Braden, smiling. “Though you don’t seem all that scary to me.”
There she goes flirting again. Braden is pretty scary, though not in the way Tessa means.
“He just wants a contract with my company,” he says, “and he thinks I won’t give it to him because he was dancing with Skye.”
“Oh. Is that true?”
“No. I’m not giving it to him anyway. The decision has already been made.”
“Does he know?” she asks.
“He will.” Braden turns to me. “Ready?”
“Yeah, sure. See you, Tess.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” she says.
Within a few minutes, I’m sitting in the back of Braden’s car again with Christopher at the wheel. I inhale. Braden’s ridiculously masculine scent is now my favorite cologne in the world. I yawn inadvertently.
“Tired?” he asks.
“No, I’m okay.” Though I am a little tired, probably from the Wild Turkey. Not drunk but sleepy.
“Good. You need to be awake for what I have in mind tonight.”
I suppress a quiver. I’m already wet. So ready.
We’re quiet the remainder of the trip. Braden leaves me alone…until we get safely to his place.
We’re not even through the door when—
“Fuck,” he growls and pins me against the wall beside the entryway, the door still hanging open. “I’ve wanted to kiss you all night. That sexy mouth of yours…and this dress. I ought to rip it off you so no other man can see you in it.”
I tremble. “It’s Tessa’s.”
“Don’t care. I’ll buy her a new one.”
“But I like—”
“Still don’t care.” He crushes his mouth to mine, grabs one of the straps of my dress, and pulls sharply as he thrusts his tongue between my lips.
The low screech of the ripping fabric. No, not Tessa’s dress!
But that’s the last thought of Tessa’s dress. That’s the last thought for a while as pure emotion bubbles through me, taking away all logic and rationale. All I want is this kiss, this raw meeting of our mouths, our lips, our tongues.
I melt into the kiss as he deepens it. Braden’s kisses are not average kisses. Nothing about Braden is average. His sheer will and ambition take over with everything he does, including kissing and fucking.
I can’t wait to get to the fucking again.
For now, though, I surrender to his lips, teeth, and tongue, let my hunger take over as our mouths slide together in a haunting rhythm that matches the cadence of my rapidly beating heart. His mouth is rough and merciless, and as he devours me, he rips the other strap and pushes it over my shoulder. My dress is banded around my waist, my strapless black bra in full view.
He slides his hands up my sides and cups my breasts, and then he pulls back, our mouths parting with a pop.
He gazes at me, focusing on my lips. “I wish you could see your mouth right now, Skye. Your lipstick is smeared, and your lips are swollen and glistening and parted in that slight way that’s all you.” He drops his gaze. “And these tits. Spectacular.”
I’m panting at his words, my panties melting from the heat. “Bra,” I say.
“Yeah, fucking sexy. Made for your tits.”
“Bra. Don’t rip it.” The bra is mine, and it wasn’t cheap. Finding a strapless bra to adequately support my Cs wasn’t easy.