“Well?” Emmy asked, helping herself to another slice of pizza. “How was it?”
“How was what?”
“The date! Duh.”
I rolled my eyes. I’d tried to block that from my memory. “Horrid. Ridiculous. Never happening again.”
“Okay then.” She stiffened. “Still, I’m proud of you for going. And most of all for putting Braydon in his place. Has he called again?”
I fought a wave of tears that threatened to escape. I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d made a terrible mistake turning him down. I set my slice of pizza back on my plate. “No.”
“Hang in there, babe.”
It was easier said than done. I hadn’t seen Braydon in more than three weeks. Sure, he’d been in Hawaii much of that time, but still, he’d had ample opportunity to miss me, hadn’t he? And still, he hadn’t called again.
• • •
In the weeks that followed, Emmy became increasingly busy with New York Fashion Week. In the position to be more selective about work that took him away from the charity, Ben wasn’t walking in just any show. This made him even more in demand than usual, which Ben and Emmy used to their full advantage. Rather than simply being cast, they negotiated an exclusive appearance to the highest bidder. He’d chosen the Giorgio Armani show for a ridiculous sum that would go straight to his charity. I was proud of them for the careers they were building. It was cool to watch. They had the same vision and rarely disagreed, despite working long hours together.
Anytime Emmy brought up Fashion Week, I fought the urge to ask her about Braydon, which shows he was being cast in, and if he had any travel plans coming up. I knew that would only fuel my online-stalking of him. Fixating on him wasn’t healthy. He’d clearly moved on and I needed to as well. I did agree to join Emmy and Ben at the Armani postshow soiree. Emmy had convinced me, saying that Ben would be busy chatting up the industry people and she would be left alone. I couldn’t imagine a scenario in which Ben left his beautiful wife to fend for herself, but I agreed to go. Honestly, the party sounded like fun. It would give me an excuse to dress up, get out of my apartment, and mingle with pretty people. The idea that I might run into Braydon there only fueled my desire to attend.
He was still constantly on my mind, and even though I knew it wasn’t healthy, I wanted to see him, I wanted him to see me, and I wanted to find out if we still had any connection. That evening I spent an inordinate amount of time blowing out my long hair with meticulous care until it was a glossy mane that fell down my back in a silky curtain. He’d take one look at me and drop down on his knees, begging for me to come back. At least that’s what I told myself as I got ready for the night.
I’d had a facial and was pleased to see my skin was soft and glowing. Applying my makeup was a breeze and I went a little overboard, dusting bronzing powder across my forehead, along the bridge of my nose, and the tops of my breasts. I added pink blush to the apples of my cheeks, berry lip gloss, and two coats of black mascara. I felt sexy and confident when I looked at the end result.
Without much time to fret over what I would say if I saw him, I rushed to meet Emmy and Ben’s driver outside my building, grabbing my handbag and hustling down the stairs to my awaiting chariot. It was kind of them to send Henry for me. They’d both been tied up at different events all day, working their connections to seek additional donors for their charity, so I planned to meet them there.
I arrived at the swanky lounge where the afterparty was being held and gave my name to the bouncer. The velvet ropes were parted, allowing me to pass through. I felt very posh strutting into the dimly lit space. And I had little choice but to strut—my five-inch heels left me feeling like I was on stilts.
Dozens upon dozens of little white candles dotted the entire space and sheer white fabric floated down from the ceiling, tied into big bows that appeared to be suspended in midair. Pillows and cushions along the walls were the only seating and a large bar took up the entire back wall. I headed straight there, not sure what else to do with myself. Having a drink in hand would at least give me something to do.
Deciding to stick with the posh theme, I ordered a Cosmopolitan. Once I’d tipped the bartender, I accepted the martini glass and tasted the pink concoction. Potent but yummy. Turning from the bar, my eyes assessed the room. It was full of models and other industry people—publicists and photographers, I guessed. I spotted Ben across the room, chatting with an older man in a classic tux, but there was no sign of Emmy. And no Braydon, either. I concentrated on my drink once again. Parking myself on a barstool, I decided the little bowl of salted almonds would keep me company.
I dug my cell phone out of my little handbag to see if I’d missed a call from Emmy, but there was nothing. I considered texting her to find out where she was but decided I wouldn’t bug her in case she was making some connection for their charity.
Within minutes I was ordering another Cosmo to replace the one I’d sucked down rather quickly. Geez, I could already feel the effects of the vodka and Triple Sec as the bartender placed the new drink in front of me. Across the room, I spotted a buffet table with delicious things to eat—sautéed shrimp on skewers, mini burgers and lettuce wraps, and, oh my God, was that cheesecake? The buffet was all but abandoned, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. These people were crazy—this mama needed to eat. And almonds and vodka hardly counted as dinner. Oh yes, I’d be hitting that up later.
After a few more sips, Emmy appeared beside me, beaming her megawatt smile in my direction. “You look amazing,” she squealed, sizing me up. “I’ve never seen you wear that dress. Very sexy,” she nodded.
“Thank you.” I didn’t mention it was a new ensemble I’d bought just for this event on the small chance that I’d run into Braydon. It had cost me a fortune, but I didn’t care. I had to look my best; it was practically in the Dealing with Your Ex handbook. I smoothed the wine-colored stretchy fabric over my hips and smiled at my wardrobe choice. The dress left very little to the imagination. It hugged all my curves and displayed the girls nicely—the top of the dress draping down rather dramatically to showcase my décolletage and ample cleavage. It was a little more—okay a lot more—than I’d normally show off, but hell, it was a special occasion. It wasn’t every day I got invited to an Armani fashion show afterparty. The back of the dress also fell away to reveal my lower back, and the gray suede pumps were the perfect complement to my ensemble.
“How’s everything going? How was the show?” I asked, taking another gulp of my beverage. It was going to go straight to my head, but, damn, this thing was good.
I listened while Emmy filled me in on their day, that everything had gone great—and just when I was working up the courage to ask if she’d seen Braydon, she beat me to it: “And I thought we’d run into Bray. He was in a bunch of shows today; I heard he opened the Calvin Klein show in a pair of briefs, sexy nerd glasses, boots, and a scarf,” she said with a laugh. “But I haven’t seen him anywhere.” She said something about the emphasis of the show being on men’s accessories, but I tuned her out and daydreamed about Braydon strutting down a catwalk in a pair of nut-hugging briefs. Mother, that would have been a sight to see. The Calvin Klein show would surely be up on YouTube . . . I knew what I was doing later. In fact, I wondered if it’d be possible to sneak into a corner unnoticed and look it up now on my smartphone. No, best to wait for tonight, when I could provide myself some relief.
Emmy rattled on about some snafu behind the scenes while guys were changing and an overzealous photographer rudely tried to sneak in a shot, when suddenly I felt the air around me shift. A warm current zipped along my spine and the hair on the back of my neck tingled. I spun around and spotted Braydon across the room.
He was facing me, but hadn’t seen me yet. Probably because he was engaged in what looked like a riveting conversation with a woman. His eyes crinkled with mischief and his crooked smile beckoned her on. Her back was to me, but I could only imagine she was a model. I cataloged our differences. Where she was sharp angles and thin legs poking beneath her dress, I was soft curves and rounded flesh filling out mine. I felt inadequate. But rather than studying her, my eyes fell back to him.
Emmy’s voice quieted, realizing what had captured my attention. “Oh,” she mumbled.
He tossed the girl in front of him a crooked smile and my heart tripped over itself, knowing just how it felt to be treated to that beautiful, dimpled grin. God, just being near him was brutal. I wanted to rush to him, throw my arms around his waist, nestle in against his chest, push my fingers into his messy hair, and kiss his full mouth, which I knew was soft yet demanding at the same time.
My eyes slid down his body and a current pulsed through me. My gaze fell from his face to his broad chest, down to his long muscular thighs covered in dark slacks. I caught movement and dropping my eyes lower, I caught the faceless blonde with her hand over the front of his dress pants. She was toying with his belt buckle rather suggestively while balancing on tiptoes to whisper something near his ear. Her manicured hand continued caressing his manhood. I felt bitter acid rise up my throat in protest.
Emmy’s sharp intake of breath signaled she’d spotted the rather noticeably indecent display as well. It had been a terrible idea to come here. This was his world, and I wasn’t a part of it anymore. I never had been. He’d clearly moved on. I hadn’t. Not one bit. My heart ached for him. And my stomach churned violently in response to seeing him with another woman. I needed to leave. I rose from my seat on shaky legs and turned toward the exit.
Braydon’s eyes latched on to mine and everything we’d previously shared slammed into me with ferocious force. I locked my knees, fighting to remain steady in the too-high heels.
I dropped my gaze to the floor and mumbled something to Emmy about it being no big deal. A complete lie, of course. I felt desperate and sick, my stomach filled with acid.
His eyes burned into mine as if to inquire how badly he’d fucked things up with me. My mouth remained relaxed as I fought for control. I wouldn’t release the venom I so desperately wanted to, which would let him know just how hard this was for me. Before I had time to figure out my strategy, Braydon was just steps away, his eyes still locked on mine like a cheetah stalking its prey.
My stomach tightened into a knot. I knew I wasn’t strong enough for him to make some smart quip and joke about what we’d shared. I’d lose it completely if he was just going to downplay what we’d had. But as he approached, his face turned serious, his jaw tight with tension. He looked troubled.
Tears swam in my eyes. Tears I couldn’t let him see. The door was twenty feet away. So close yet also way too far. I had to make it. I needed the freedom, the fresh air, a Braydon-free zone. Just as I was starting for the door, a firm hand caught my wrist and spun me to face him.
“Talk to me, kitten.”
Unable to meet his blue eyes, my head dropped down. His erection had slackened. God, why was I even looking at that?
“No need—you can go back to your date.” I flicked my free hand in the direction of the hussy across the bar. “I shouldn’t have come here.”
Anger seethed just below the surface and Braydon sucked in a sharp breath. “But you did. Now tell me why.”
I scoffed. “I don’t owe you anything, Braydon.”
His hand tightened around my wrist—not enough to hurt, but enough to know that he wasn’t letting me go without a fight.
If he wanted a fight, I’d give it to him. I’d fled paradise without really explaining myself, and if he wanted the truth, I’d let him have it.
His tone softened. “For the record, I’m not here with anyone. Are you mad at me?”
I shook my head, thinking it over. “More like mad at myself.”
“For?” he asked, dark brows drawing together.
“For allowing myself to get too close to you. That arrangement wasn’t healthy for me.”
He thought it over, his jaw working. “I’m sorry. I thought having boundaries in place would make it easier for you. I tried to be honest from the start about what I was looking for.”
“And you were. It just turned out that I couldn’t do it.”
“That’s not how I remember it.” His tone had dropped lower and his eyes were still serious, still pinned on mine.
“W-what do you mean?” I stammered, heat suddenly rising to my cheeks.
“When you let yourself be free—when you stopped fighting it—you enjoyed yourself. Immensely.”
I swallowed a gulp of air as memories of Braydon flooded my system. His lips at my throat, him moving above me, me down on my knees, lightly rubbing my tongue along the steel barbell piercing while he groaned in pleasure. I wanted to argue with him, to tell him off, but instead I stood there gutted by his words, by his honest assessment of me. He always saw more than I wanted him to. “I’m not going to deny that. We both know this chemistry between us is . . .”
“Off the charts,” he finished for me.
I nodded. “But that’s not everything, Braydon. I was looking for a connection, the promise of something more—if not right away, maybe later down the line. But that possibility never manifested between us. I never got that from you.”
He remained silent, his eyes locked on mine. He couldn’t argue. Releasing a deep sigh, his hand found mine and he laced our fingers together. “I’ve missed you,” he admitted softly.
Damn it. My pulse rioted. My body remembered everything.
Braydon’s gaze lowered, moving down my curves, which suddenly felt much too exposed. “What the fuck is this dress?”
“You don’t like it?”
“I didn’t say that . . . but it will be a little difficult walking around all night with an erection.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. Oh my God, it had been weeks since I’d actually laughed. That felt damn good. Better than I remembered. The tension I’d been carrying in my shoulders eased and I instantly felt calmed.
His hands smoothed over my hips. “Seriously, baby, a bathing suit would have been less revealing. Fuck.”
I relished his compliments and the lust-filled look in his eyes despite myself. I knew Braydon and I weren’t finished. Not by a long shot. He still yearned for me as much as I did for him. Only now I had to decide if I was ready to jump back in. My brain was screaming no and my body was crying yes.
He leaned down, brushing his lips past my neck, making me gasp at the sudden rush of hot breath against my skin. “We need to talk.”
I nodded. I needed to hear what he had to say.
Taking my hand, he led me down a hallway off the side of the banquet room. We continued down the hall, passing by the restrooms until we reached a door labeled “Office.” Braydon tried the doorknob, his other hand still gripping mine. The office was dark and empty. Braydon flipped on the light and closed the door behind us. It was a small square room with no window, just a single desk and chair in the center of the room facing the door.
He’d taken my hand hostage and seemed reluctant to let it go. God, I’d missed his touch even more than I realized. My blood simmered any time our skin made contact. I needed a moment to just breathe. Crossing the room, I ran my finger over the top of the desk, stalling for time. What was there to say?
Braydon stalked toward me, his eyes once again caressing my curves and making me feel all but naked. I took a step back. This room was way too small and suddenly much too warm.
“You left me,” he murmured.
I remained silent. There was no sense in arguing. I had left him without any explanation.
“I thought you’d gone for a drink or something at first, but then I noticed your suitcase was gone. I called Emmy and she didn’t know a thing.”
I hadn’t even messaged Emmy to tell her I was back in New York until the following morning. I didn’t want to be talked into staying.
His fingertip traced my hip bone in the most distracting way. “Did I not give you what you needed?” he whispered.
“In the bedroom, yes. But outside of it, no. I needed more, a lot more.” I wasn’t going to deny that any longer.
“I see.” He dropped his hand from my waist and the absence of his touch left me bereft, wanting. “I’ve missed you, if that counts for anything.”
It did. I heaved a breath inward. God, I shouldn’t have drunk all those Cosmos. I felt slightly dizzy and a lot horny. Bad combination around this man. I knew it would only lead to trouble. Trouble I very much wanted. “I’ve missed you, too,” I admitted in a moment of weakness.
“But you’re the one who ended it.” His brows pinched together.
My eyes acknowledged his statement, dropping to the floor briefly, as if to say, I know. Being near him, inhaling him, was a deadly combination. My body was responding to the maleness of his scent, my heartbeat ricocheting off the walls of my chest, making my breath come out in soft pants.
“You’re sending me all kinds of mixed signals, kitten.” His eyes fell to my chest where my nipples had hardened into pebbles. I dropped my head, but his index finger lifted my chin until I met his eyes once again. “You have no idea how badly I’ve missed you,” he growled, lightly nipping at my neck. “Let me show you. Let me make it up to you . . .” I released a soft groan. “I need to be inside you.”
“Not here,” I moaned.
His eyes rose to mine. “Your place. We’ll grab a cab.”
I nodded my consent and he grabbed my hand to tow me from the office; we weaved our way through the throngs of mingling bodies when I stopped suddenly. “Wait . . .”
He stopped suddenly. “What?”
I looked longingly at the buffet table. “I didn’t get to try any of the yummy things over there. . . .”
He chuckled beside me, his posture immediately relaxing. “Give me one sec.” He kissed my cheek and then rushed over to the tuxedo-clad attendant restocking napkins at the buffet. Within minutes he was handed a large brown paper bag that I could only assume was filled with to-go treats. My hero.
My smile widened as he approached, the bag clutched in his hands. “Now we’re ready. No more stalling.” He grabbed my hand and all but hauled me out the door.
Once we reached my apartment, Braydon gathered the plates and silverware from the kitchen while I unpacked the sack of treats on my small dining table. We ate and laughed and caught up about the past several weeks, avoiding any heavy topics. It was crazy how easily we could fall back into our old routine. I knew there was a big conversation we still needed to have—about where we stood—but even I seemed reluctant to start it. This felt too good and I wasn’t ready to ruin it.
“Are you going to finish that slice of cheesecake?” He looked longingly at my plate.
“Every last bite,” I confirmed, grinning wickedly as I shoved a big piece of the cake into my mouth. “But . . .” I pulled the last container from the bag. “There’s another slice, and I’ll split it with you if you make coffee.”
“Deal.”
I loved that I could be myself with him. I’d forgotten how easy we were together. Like two old friends who taunted and teased each other endlessly, and of course had great sex, too. My stomach flipped at the thought. I wouldn’t be giving in to him tonight. Couldn’t.
After our meal, we washed the dishes and then settled in the living room. The conversation soon died down and a comfortable silence settled in around us. A steaming mug of coffee, a belly full of cheesecake, and Braydon back in my life. Things were good. Maybe we could do this—even if it was just as friends. Things felt too natural, too easy with him, and I didn’t want to lose that.
Braydon pushed my hair back behind my shoulder. “Come here. I don’t bite.”
I glared at him, but moved closer. I knew in fact he did bite.
Although I had removed my killer heels, I hadn’t yet changed out of my dress. And my body suddenly realized that only a thin scrap of fabric was separating Braydon’s skin from mine.
“I’m going to go change out of my dress,” I informed him, hopping up from the couch.
“Need a hand?” he asked, rising.
“No.” I pushed his shoulders so he returned to sitting. “Sit. Stay. Good puppy.” I patted his head.
He lifted a dark sexy brow at me.
“Boys are like puppies,” I explained. “You have to have lots of patience, plenty of discipline, house-train them . . .”
“Is that so?”
I nodded, feeling satisfied.
“Does that mean girls are like kittens? Give them lots of snuggles and give them cream to lick up so they don’t get ornery and claw you?”
I giggled. “Something like that. Be right back.”
Once inside my bedroom, I didn’t bother with closing the door. I heard the television flip on and figured Braydon was making himself comfortable.
I unzipped my dress and stepped out of it, crossing the room in bare feet to hang my dress in the closet. I was humming the tune from the commercial I could hear coming from the living room and spun around to a rich grumble. Braydon was watching me from the doorway. I sucked in a breath as our eyes locked.
He remained motionless in the door, his dark blue eyes possessive and hungry.
“What are you doing?” My voice came in a rush of breath.
“Take off your bra.”
What?
His gaze dropped to the swell of generous cleavage that spilled over my pink push-up bra.
My body obeyed his command, my traitorous hands finding the clasp behind my back and releasing it. I let the straps fall from my shoulders, but palmed the cups of the bra before I was left completely exposed.
Braydon crossed the room and lightly gripped my wrists. “Don’t hide from me. I don’t know where this is headed, but this thing between us is real. I know you feel it, too.”
My brain latched on to his statement that he didn’t know where this was headed—wouldn’t make me any promises, but he was right, I felt more for him than I had for anyone in a long, long time. And not to mention, my body was humming for his touch. It had been so long, and no one knew my body quite like Braydon. I craved him. Even though I knew he was bad for me. “We shouldn’t,” I murmured, finding my voice.
“Don’t you think I know that? I don’t mean to mess with you like this—I never meant for things to get so complicated. But I want you. I want your friendship, and fuck, I want this body too, if you’ll let me have you.”
I chewed on my lower lip, weighing his words.
Braydon gently tugged my wrists away and my bra fell to the floor.
He inhaled sharply and cursed under his breath. He cupped my naked breasts, his thumbs lightly grazing my nipples. Darts of pleasure shot through me, sending a rush of warmth to my core.
Braydon watched my reaction with interest, his dark eyes missing nothing—not the rosy blush that was crawling up my neck or the way my breathing came in soft pants. He lowered his head and with his eyes still locked on mine, he pressed a tender kiss to the top of one breast, then the other. I ached to feel his mouth against my sensitive nipples and he didn’t deny me. His hot mouth closed over a nipple, his wet tongue loving it with soft strokes. A cry broke from my lips and my knees trembled. His hands pressed the weight of my breasts together and his mouth moved from one to the other, licking, sucking, and biting gently all while I writhed against his talented mouth.
Braydon pulled away, rising to meet my lips. He pressed a tender kiss to my mouth, then rubbed his thumb along my lower lip. The dampness he’d left behind on my breasts puckered my nipples in the cool air. He looked me over, his blue eyes alive with arousal and his slacks heavily tented in the front.
Not expecting anyone to see my panties tonight, I had on a pair of comfy black boy shorts. But the way his hands found my ass cheeks, which peeked from the bottom, he didn’t seem to mind in the least. He knew how to turn me on until I was soaking wet and nearly ready to beg. His fingers toyed with the waistband of my panties, dipping barely inside with featherlight touches to tease and arouse. The skin on my hips and stomach broke out in chill bumps. I rubbed a hand over the front of his pants, feeling his fully erect manhood, and my sex muscles clenched.
“Can I have you tonight?” he asked, breathless.
My brain was screaming at me to give in, to rip my panties down my legs and undo his pants . . . but my heart was throbbing painfully, reminding me of the ache only he could produce. “Have you been with anyone else?” I held my breath.
He shook his head. “No. There’s no one else.”
My breath whooshed past my lips as I breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you staying the night?” Cuddling with him was my favorite postsex activity. Sleeping warm and secure in Braydon’s arms made everything okay.
“Of course. After I orgasm, I can pretty much crash anywhere.” He chuckled lightly, looking at me like this was a fact I should know about him by now.
So not what I wanted to hear. I drew a deep breath and took a step back from him. Despite how sweet and attentive he was with me, that was still all this was. He made that crystal clear. This was sex between two consenting adults. Plain and simple. I could take it, or I could leave it. I knew exactly what I needed to do.
I crossed the room and stood at my open bedroom door. “Good-bye, Braydon.”
He adjusted his erection and came to stand next to me, pressing his palm against my cheek. “Kitten?”
“This has got to be fifty-fifty. If you can’t give me what I need, I won’t give you what you want.”
“What are you saying?” His thumb lightly rubbed my cheek.
“This isn’t going to work for me.”
Sad blue eyes met mine. “Understood.”
I wanted him to argue, to fight for me, but I knew that wouldn’t happen. Even more of a reason to let him go.
As I watched him pull his shirt back on over his head, my heart ached painfully in my chest, fearing that this was it. I wondered if this was the last time I would see him.
Without even a last glance my way, Braydon left me in my too-quiet apartment. Naked and alone.
