Be My Always: A BWWM Romance (Make It Marriage Book 1)

by Nia Arthurs

  Furious eyes shift from the camera to my direction.

  It’s definitely me.

  I bare my teeth in a feral sort of smile, wishing I wasn’t here.

  Wishing I wasn’t such a mess in my head.

  Wishing Brendon would hold me tighter.

  A stiff breeze chases the heat of the day.

  No one moves.

  We’re all just waiting for a sign.

  I have no idea if the cameraman’s done taking pictures.

  He’s not saying anything and the camera isn’t flashing so I can’t tell if we’re still rolling.

  Brendon’s fingers slip lower on my waist. To the jut of my hip.

  It’s a slow, gentle caress that feels both unintentional and on purpose.

  Heat pools in my stomach.

  Between my thighs.

  “Your place or mine?” he murmurs in my ear.

  Low and growly.

  My cheeks catch fire.

  It’s too much. Too dark. Too intimate.

  He’s just holding me in a pose for the camera and I feel like I’m about to burst.

  How do I handle all of him?

  “Is this really the best time to discuss that?” I whisper through the corner of my mouth.

  His grip tightens. “If I stall, you’ll run.”

  “I’m no coward.”

  “You’re not exactly bold.”

  I narrow my eyes. “You sound disappointed.”

  “No. I like that restraint. Makes me eager to see how you are with your hair down.”

  My hair down?

  Ha, I can’t remember the last time I let loose.

  Flirting with Brendon last week was the closest I’d come to doing something risky. The person I am today, the walls I’ve built—they don’t allow for mistakes.

  Even tall, handsome, square-jawed mistakes.

  “Next pose!” The photographer leaves his camera to line us up again.

  I tilt my head toward Brendon to continue the whispered conversation. “If I’m so wound up, why bother? I’m sure there are plenty of women around who’ll give you what you want.”

  “But they’re not you.” His fingers move up my wrist. “Besides, you don’t scare me. I know a couple ways to help you unwind.”

  There’s a promise in that statement.

  A dirty one, sure.

  But deeper than that, I hear his interest.

  I saw it earlier in the car.

  We might be talking about a couple hours of fun, but in the same breath—I sense that he’s hinting at more.

  And I can’t afford more.

  I don’t do more.

  “We need rules.”

  “I like rules.”

  “That’s surprising.”

  “It’s your first time. I get that.”

  “Would you stop?”

  “What?”

  “It’s not my fi—I’ve done… things before.”

  “Things?” I hear the teasing in his voice.

  Doesn’t keep me from feeling like I’m on fire.

  “You can’t even say it.”

  The photographer waves at us. “Silly faces.”

  I’m too nervous to think of any so I just stick out my tongue.

  “Perfect!” he yells.

  Wow… that actually worked.

  Brendon’s nose brushes my neck. “There’s no shame in being inexperienced.”

  I’m turned on.

  And annoyed.

  That’s a first.

  “I know that.” I shift slightly to glare at him. “But I’m not.”

  “No need to get defensive.”

  “No need to be a jerk.”

  “Still time to change your mind.”

  “I’m not backing out.” I lift my chin. “We had a deal.”

  His eyes meet mine. “So impersonal.”

  “It’s not like we have feelings for each other.”

  “Lust is a feeling.”

  My throat goes dry.

  “That’s good, guys!” The photographer yells. “I just need the bride and groom now.”

  Everyone steps out of the frame. Stretches. Starts chatting.

  Except me.

  Brendon’s still got me trapped in his silver stare. “I’m looking forward to seeing all the things you know.”

  His smile is mischievous.

  He’s totally messing with me.

  Knowing that doesn’t help whatsoever.

  My heart’s about to explode in my chest.

  The sun’s gone down a bit but it might as well be hurtling towards earth.

  His hand slides off my waist. Nice and slow. He moves away from me, but the heat of his hand, the effect of his presence is still there. Hovering over me. Stealing my breath.

  My composure.

  My good sense.

  “Kayla?” Dark fingers graze my upper arm.

  I startle. “Huh?”

  Zania blinks at me. Her flawless makeup brings out the brown in her eyes. Right now, they’re dark with concern. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” I stumble to the side. “Yeah. I’m great. Perfect. Awesome.”

  “Okay.” Zania blinks.

  Teale looks at me like I’m high.

  “Then…” Zania gestures to the grassy plain where the others are waiting. “Can you go over there? We need to take this picture.”

  Crap. “Sorry. I’m—my bad.” I hold a hand up to the photographer. Scurry away. Embarrassment keeps my head bowed and my heart racing.

  This is Brendon’s fault.

  He baited me and filled my head with all these crazy thoughts and now I can’t even function like a normal human being.

  I stalk away from the photographer’s frigid glare and join Chandra on the sidelines.

  “Hey, girl.” Chandra appraises my face. “You look like you could use a drink.”

  She has no idea.

  Laughter booms over the waves.

  Brendon is talking to Ollie about some superhero TV show they’re both bingeing. His eyes are animated; his gestures wide. The ‘geek’ inside seeps out in his exuberance.

  Damn.

  Why is he so cute?

  My eyes linger on his face. His annoyingly handsome, square-jawed, Clark-Kent as Superman face.

  Brendon glances my way. Catches me watching. His lips grow in a cocky smirk.

  “Your place or mine.” His whisper still echoes in my ears.

  Still makes my stomach flutter.

  This isn’t me. Nothing like it. I don’t get carried away by my feelings. I don’t fall for a guy I barely know.

  I stumble, maybe.

  Which is how this mess started in the first place.

  But I catch myself before it gets too deep.

  I have to.

  Anything further than a one-night stand would be striding into forbidden territory. And I know what’s waiting for me there—pain, guilt, heartbreak.

  Death.

  I shudder.

  No matter how crazy Brendon makes me feel, no matter how much I want to give in, I can never let this be more.

  Ten

  Brendon

  Teale’s Jag has been ‘pimped out’.

  If one would call the ugly paper flowers and limp streamers hanging off the expensive silver paint such a description.

  In my humble opinion, the décor is a step-down. The Jag needs no help getting attention, but Cobie worked so hard on it…

  “Enjoy your honeymoon,” I tell Teale as I pull him in for a shoulder-hug.

  “You know I will,” he says like a man with all intentions of getting no sleep tonight.

  Zania rolls her eyes and steps forward to wrap a slender arm around my neck. “Thanks for everything, Teale.”

  “Anytime.” I wink. “And if he acts a fool, call me up. I’ll grab the jet and rescue you.”

  Teale shoots me a dark look and pulls his wife away.

  I grin and glance around the crowded courtyard for the emergency maid-of-honor.

 
The fragrant blooms from the garden nearby spray the night air with sweet perfume. Half-drunk wedding guests sway down the stairs. Children jostle each other to blow the most bubbles at the happy couple.

  I see lots of smiling faces, but no Kayla.

  She made herself scarce since the photo session.

  Can’t say that I’m surprised.

  I might have pushed her a little too far earlier.

  She’s obviously skittish about spending the night with me.

  The blush on her pretty brown cheeks gave her away.

  Along with her charged insistence that I not call tonight her ‘first’.

  Understandable.

  But I can’t help teasing her.

  She’s trying so hard to act like she doesn’t want this as badly as I do. As if I’m twisting her arm. She’s building walls and drawing boundaries. A point made clear when she called our arrangement a ‘deal’.

  Jargon for the boardroom, not the bedroom.

  I try not to laugh.

  It’s hard to keep a straight face.

  She’s the perfect balance of adorable and sexy. I don’t know if it’s stubbornness or pride, but whatever it is… I’m grateful for that streak in her. It’s been the highlight of my day.

  My eyes snag on a vision in maroon.

  There.

  Kayla’s near the car. She’s hugging Zania. More like encapsulating Zania. She has to bend down to reach the petite bride.

  Her slit jostles with the movement.

  I see at least ten guys checking out the sexy leg that’s peeping through her dress, taunt and balanced on a pair of skinny black heels.

  My grin turns into a scowl.

  The cracking of my knuckles surprises me. I glance down and realize I’ve fisted my hands without intending to.

  Or maybe I do.

  Time to fend off the vultures.

  I head her way.

  Kayla steps back to let Zania into the Jag.

  Before I can reach her, my phone chirps with a text.

  I pull it out of my pocket, continuing my forward stride.

  MOM: Your father’s here.

  I stop completely.

  Let the words and their ramification settle over my shoulders like the heavy burden of a king’s velvet cloak.

  Damn.

  My jaw works. I don’t want to leave Kayla hanging again. She’s giving me a second shot tonight, and if I blow it this time, I doubt she’ll offer any more chances.

  But knowing Dad…

  He must have learned that Ariya’s out of the academy. He’s probably pissed about that.

  And seeing Mom out of the blue…

  She snuck into the country by escaping his bodyguards. Dad hired goons ‘for her protection’, but he uses them to keep her in check.

  Remind her whom she belongs to.

  As if he’s worthy of possessing a treasure like my mother when he’s nothing but trash.

  I can’t imagine what kind of scene he’s making.

  Once again, I’ve got no other choice.

  My family comes first.

  But this is one case I really wish I could blow them off.

  I text Mom a reply.

  ME: I’m on my way.

  When I glance up, I find Kayla talking on her cell phone. She speaks heatedly to whoever’s on the other end of the line. I’m near enough to catch a fragment of her conversation.

  “No, I can’t kick her out of the agency. Just because she doesn’t feel the same way…” Slender fingers rise and clip the bridge of her nose. “That’s not the way it works.” A heavy sigh. “No, this is not a scam. We pair you with your most compatible partner, but there are no guarantees.” She tilts her head. Listens. “Fine. Where are you?”

  I’m right behind her now.

  Her shoulders stiffen. Her head tilts slightly to the side. She senses my presence, but she doesn’t turn around to acknowledge me.

  That’s fine.

  The view from the rear is just as breathtaking as the one up front.

  Strands of her long black hair tug in the wind, tempting my fingers to follow their lead and drape across her back. I know better than to fall for the beckoning. I let my arms drop loosely at my sides.

  Kayla hangs up and faces me. “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  She cups her elbow. “So… I’ve got to go…”

  I grin. “Running away already?”

  Her eyes flash. “It’s not intentional.”

  “Sounds like an excuse.”

  “Something came up.”

  “Work?”

  She nods. “The life of a match-maker. We don’t make our own hours.”

  I slip my hand into my pocket, silently relieved. Dad put me in a tight spot, but at least Kayla’s the one bailing this time.

  Our night teetered on the edge of being cancelled.

  Now it’s just postponed.

  “Give me your phone.” I hold out my hand.

  “Why?”

  I smirk. Keep my hand steady.

  She narrows her eyes. Looks me up and down.

  “I assure you I’m not going to run off with it.”

  “Pinky swear?”

  “If that’s what you need.”

  She smiles hesitantly as she shakes her head. Rustles through her purse and pulls her phone out. She hands it over.

  I dial my number and wait for my cell to ring.

  It does.

  Kayla’s eyes glimmer with understanding. “Smooth.”

  “Even Cinderella left a shoe,” I say, handing her phone back to her.

  “My number’s a lot easier to track than footwear.”

  I shrug. “We can flip the script then. I’ll run off and leave my shoe. You can come find me.”

  She cracks a laugh.

  Something warm hits my chest as the sound flutters in the vibrant night air.

  I want to make her laugh again.

  Over and over.

  Almost as much as I want to hear her scream my name.

  Her body slick with sweat.

  Her eyes glazed with lust.

  That maroon dress pooling around her ankles.

  My heart thuds.

  I drag my thoughts away from dangerous territory.

  Mom’s waiting for me at home. There’s yet another family crisis brewing in the wings. I don’t have time to be standing around here, ogling Kayla.

  As much as I’m enjoying it.

  She taps her phone in her palm. Bites the inside of her cheek. Regret flashes in her eyes as she takes a small step away from me. “I, uh… I really should go.”

  So should I.

  But I’m still here. Still standing in the shadows of the courtyard. Still caught up in that tug pulling me in Kayla’s direction. A connection that sizzled since the moment I first saw her.

  “We’ll set something up,” she says.

  Again with that boardroom jargon.

  Damn, that guardedness of hers is so freaking compelling. Makes me want to take my time dissolving all those walls until she’s got nothing to hide behind.

  “Your call.”

  Kayla swallows. Her lips twitch. She’s trying to act aloof, trying to act unaffected, but the burning in her eyes gives her away.

  My phone buzzes.

  Mom’s calling.

  Time to get back to reality.

  It kills me to step away, but I don’t really have a choice. “Let me know if you find my shoe.”

  “And if I do?”

  “There’s a hell of a reward.”

  The lip twitch becomes a full-blown smile. She moves in the opposite direction. Toward the street.

  I’m heading to the parking lot on the other side of the grounds.

  We’re drawing back.

  But we’re still facing each other.

  Stretching it out for as long as we can.

  Toying with the tension.

  I need to go.

  Time’s not on my side.

  Kayla turns away first.
Her long strides carry her away. Around the bend. Out of sight.

  She doesn’t look back once.

  Her back is ramrod straight, her shoulders square.

  No flounce, no ease.

  All structure.

  Breaking her down will be my delight.

  My phone rings.

  Mom’s probably freaking out.

  I should’ve been there already.

  I start jogging toward my car and answer without checking the caller ID. “I’m on my way, Mom.”

  Ariya’s voice fills my ears. “Brendon, he took her.”

  My body goes still.

  “Brendon…” Panic thickens Ariya’s voice. Makes it hard to understand her, but the foreboding winding through my bones is unmistakable.

  I don’t need the full explanation to catch the drift.

  I’m too late.

  “Ariya, calm down. What happened? ”

  “Dad and his bodyguards took Mom.”

  I throw myself into the car.

  “Nothing’s going to happen to her, right?” Ariya whimpers.

  No. At least, I don’t think so.

  Dad’s not the type to hit a woman.

  Especially not Mom.

  He needs her to protect his perfect family-man veneer. Hitting her would give her the push she needs to green light the divorce.

  At this point, the only thing keeping them together is Ariya and a piece of paper.

  Their relationship has been over for a while.

  Mom’s no longer his type.

  When it comes to women, Dad prefers the beach-bottle-blonde, big tits, low self-esteem, Daddy-issues type. The kind he can screw in his office and then fire the next day.

  He doesn’t leave physical bruises.

  Emotional scars?

  He’s the king of that.

  “She’s going to be fine. Is anyone there with you?”

  “Yeah. One of the suits.”

  I climb into the car. Rub my forehead. The world’s a crappy, dangerous place. I hate the idea of Ariya alone with some strange guy I don’t know.

  “Go to your room and lock the door, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I blow out a shaky breath and tease her to get her mind off the chaos. “And don’t cry.”

  As expected, she grunts. “Do you think I’m a baby?”

  “Just making sure.”

  “I feel like this is my fault. If I’d stayed at the school…”

  “Don’t do that.” I swerve out of the parking lot and shoot into the highway. “I’ll talk to Dad.”

  Ariya sucks in a deep breath. “I’ll wait up.”

  “We’ll be there to tuck you in.”