I meant the kiss, but this isn’t the place or time to discuss that. I can feel heat creep up my face for even letting him kiss me like that. But God was it hot. I can’t remember the last time someone kissed me like that.
I look over at my friends at the table who wave me off excitedly. They seem to be swooning over the sight of him. If only they knew this is not what they think. Using my uncuffed hand, I manage to wave goodbye to them before Braxton pulls me through the crowd of sweaty dancers.
The cool air prickles against my cheeks once we’re outside. And now that he can actually hear me, I lay into him. “Why are you being like this? You’re such an asshole, Braxton!”
“I am like this because you lie and sneak off, making my job difficult,” he roars, his jaw tight.
“Was kissing me part of your job?” I hiss.
He steps toward me until we are toe to toe. “No. Kissing you was a distraction.”
The irritation I’ve been feeling since the day we met coupled with humiliation that I’d given into him like that are all consuming. He may be attractive, but there is no denying he is a grade-A prick. “Can we go?”
He doesn’t answer me, just walks forward, pulling me along.
Thankfully, he removes the cuffs so I can get into the front seat of a car I assume is his. It smells like him, woodsy and masculine. I chastise myself for liking the way he smells.
Braxton climbs in the driver’s seat, starting the engine. He doesn’t switch on any music, and when I reach for the stereo, he glares at me, so I place my hands in my lap. He backs out of the parking lot.
“That was pretty smart what you did back at the office, sneaking out like that,” his voice is dripping in sarcasm.
“I’m glad you approve,” I bite back.
“What the hell were you thinking?” He snaps.
I shake my head as he speeds down the highway. “And your driving is any safer?”
He casts me a quick glance but doesn’t say a word. Deciding two can play the silent game, I don’t either, looking out of the window as the world whizzes past us. The sweet headiness that comes with drunkenness has been replaced with something else. I can feel the heat radiating off him, the way it did in the club. I’ve always found him attractive, but until that kiss, I hadn’t realized how much I desired him. Despite his comment about it being a distraction, my stomach knots at the thought of being alone with him again in my apartment.
We pull into the garage of the apartment building. We both remain silent, and you could cut the tension between us with a knife. He glances at me once we’re in the elevator, and I swear he’s undressing me with his eyes, touching every part of me like I want his fingertips to. I feel a shiver run up my spine at just that one look. I suck in my lower lip, and he looks away. I want to reach out and touch him, run my hands over his chest, break through this wall he keeps up. Instead, I take a deep breath. This is hardly appropriate. He’s just another person on my father’s payroll.
When we enter my apartment, I shut the door behind me. Instead of walking into the living room, he stands in front of me. We’re inches apart, his eyes holding me hostage as he backs me up against the door.
“You should get those bloody cameras fixed, so you can at least spy on me from a distance.”
“What if I don’t want to get them replaced? What if I want to be here?” His eyes are ablaze as he looks down at my lips.
“What do you want?” His close proximity is suffocating and exhilarating at the same time.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the day I laid eyes on you. I want to kiss you every time you defy me.”
“That’s not what I want.” My chest rises and falls and I lick my lips in anticipation.
“Are you sure? Because your eyes are telling me something else.”
He dips his head, and I close my eyes, knowing I want nothing more than a taste of him again. He crashes his lips to mine, his hands gripping the back of my head to keep me in place. This kiss is different, it’s filled with lust and desire, and I give in, letting him take whatever it is he wants from me. His hands palm my breasts, and I push against him wantonly. I want this, his kisses, his touch. He twists a taut nipple between his thumb and finger, and I cry out against his lips. His tongue in my mouth and his hands on my nipples make me ache with need. I break our kiss, crying out in pleasure.
“Come for me,” he rasps against my mouth. “Show me how I don’t need to fuck you to drench you.”
I lean my head against the door, his torture on my nipples continuing. He rips my shirt open shifting it off my shoulders, and I gasp.
“Fuck,” he groans when he looks down at my uncovered chest. He pulls the cups down on my bra, exposing me. His eyes are on fire as he lifts me by my ass, walking me farther into the apartment and placing me on the counter. His warm mouth takes a nipple while his hand works the other one. I’m making incoherent sounds as he bites and sucks my tits. My hands grip his hair, wanting more, needing more.
“Let go, like a good little girl,” he coaxes.
I can’t hold it any longer, and I feel that familiar pulsing between my thighs. “Touch me,” I moan, my head thrown back. I’m losing grip on reality. All I want is Braxton, here, like this.
I shout out an orgasm just moments after he lifts my skirt and circles his finger against my lace clad clit. I’m trembling as I lie back on the counter, utterly spent, feeling lightheaded and sated.
Braxton adjusts my bra, lifts me off the counter and into my bedroom, setting me down at the foot of my bed. He tugs down my skirt. My legs feel like jelly, so I take a seat. “Time for bed, princess,” his voice is no longer harsh. He reaches into my drawer pulling out a t-shirt which he slips over my head.
He removes my shoes, and I climb under the covers. I want to ask him to stay, but I wonder if it’s the alcohol and the post orgasmic high I’m still on. I’ll regret all this in the morning. I am not reckless, not like this. After he closes the door to my bedroom, the last hour starts to feel like a mirage.
