by Zoe York
“That makes no sense.”
“I don’t know how to explain it. Just from the moment I met him, we were butting heads, but not in a bad way. Frustrating, yes. Of course, I wanted to trounce him. But as much as he infuriated me, I never really thought, deep down, that he was wrong. I was afraid of where he’d push me. Fear put us on opposite sides. Strength put us on the same side. And now…he’s ma moitié.”
Her better half. Arielle frowned. “Already you know that about him?”
“Sure. Looking back, I think we both knew it almost right away.”
Crap. “That’s…lovely.”
Cara’s face crumpled. “Did I just ruin the blanket fort vibe?”
“No. But you may have popped a bubble or two of self-denial.”
From her prone position, Daphne gave a silent thumbs-up in agreement.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.” Or everything, but Arielle wasn’t ready to say that out loud just yet.
SIXTEEN
THREE NIGHTS THE FOLLOWING WEEK, BRAYDEN FOUND EXCUSES TO GO INTO TOWN SO HE COULD LOSE HIMSELF IN ARIELLE’S ARMS.
Something had shifted between them. Something good, but heady, and intense.
Something that drove him hard. By day, he worked on course design. What a weekend of executive boot camp might look like. A week. A single day if they could convince cruise groups to stop in, because Mick had heard that excursions organized through the travel agencies were quite a good source of revenue.
But by the end of the day, he’d find himself restless and want sex—or that was what he was telling himself. That the incessant ache in his chest was nerves and only Arielle could ease it because she was his bedmate of the moment.
What he really wanted, though, was to take her out with the group and keep his arm around her the entire time. Invite her to the estate and hold her in his lap in front of Mick and Cara.
It had struck him like a lightning bolt, and he hadn’t been able to shake the realization from his thoughts. He was marginally better at keeping his mouth shut about it, because she wasn’t there yet and he knew it.
So when Will sent word he could get two weeks leave, prompting Mick and Cara to head into Sunshine Bay for a day to check off a number of wedding-related tasks, Brayden told himself he was just going to invite Arielle over to play. Empty plantation house, eager libido.
And that was how it started. Another two-rope box-tie chest harness. He’d bind more of her over the course of the day, but he had big plans. He’d stocked up on finger food and had even practiced some suspension rigging in case she was game to fly.
By lunch, they were well into their second scene. When her stomach growled at him, he gave her the choice of waiting to eat, or being forced to wait in a different way—bound, while he went downstairs.
They’d talked about this, how bondage was as much a mental game as a physical one. Did she trust him to have her back? To protect her privacy and her safety?
“I’ll wait here,” she whispered.
“You can see the security cameras.” He handed her a pair of safety scissors and asked her to test that she could cut herself free from the tether. Her feet were on the ground, so she was fine, but he was always careful. “And I won’t be long.”
~
“Be quick,” she said, not caring that the wobble in her voice betrayed her nerves.
She trusted Brayden with all her silly fears.
“I’ll take exactly as long as I need to,” he said with a grin.
“That’s evil.” She took a deep breath.
“Okay, how about…I’ll take exactly as long as you need me to?”
“Also evil. But hot.”
He laughed as he headed out the door, and she closed her eyes. Oh, God. How long would he be gone?
The mansion was big enough that his footsteps faded, and she had to imagine him moving around the kitchen. But it wasn’t so big that she couldn’t hear the door open and then slap shut, and Brayden’s footfalls as he jogged down the verandah steps.
Her heart rate picked up, and then started racing when she heard voices—plural.
Cavalier, laughing voices. She swallowed hard and her fingers tensed on the scissor handles.
The video feed, she thought. She darted her eyes toward the screens. Two men. Brayden and someone she didn’t recognize. Gestures and nods, and then, just when she thought she might faint, the other man headed away from the house. She watched him move from one camera view to another before he climbed onto Mick’s moped and drove off the property.
Her pulse was still bouncing precariously on the edge of panic when Brayden returned with a plate of fresh fruit, cheese, chocolate and soft, flaky bread.
He had a lazy grin on his face, like she had no reason to be freaking out that she’d heard him talking to someone outside.
“Sorry about that. Someone dropped by. Now, where were we?”
He fed her a piece of pineapple that turned her frustration into pleasure again. She licked his fingertips clean of the sticky juice before answering. She went with the response that would get them back on track, and show him that he did indeed have her trust. “Halfway between orgasms three and four.”
He traced the network of silky black ropes crisscrossing her body, making her shiver. “Yes, yes we were.”
“That was close,” she whispered as he sank to his knees in front of her. “One of these days we’re going to get caught.”
Brayden didn’t say anything. He just brought his forehead to her belly, and left it there until her anxiety fully morphed to restlessness for more.
He rose to his feet and released her so they could have a picnic lunch together. Then they made out, dessert forgotten, until she was panting and he was reaching for the rope again.
He was insatiable.
So was she, for that matter. Yes, maybe they were using sex to exorcise some of her demons. Maybe some of his, too.
They should talk.
She should start a conversation.
So many shoulds.
“What’s going on in your head?” Brayden asked as he bound her again.
“Mysterious thoughts,” she quipped.
He accepted that. Of course he did. She’d made it pretty clear that she wanted to keep things light. She missed the weirdness of that first night when they traded secrets back and forth, because that’s what one did in the middle of the night when weird shit was going down. But it wasn’t what you did with a fuck buddy.
She’d done this to them. Put this rule of silence over their relationship. And that’s what it was, there was no more denying that. It was time for her to get comfy with the idea of outing how much she liked this guy.
Brayden didn’t give her long to wrap her head around it, though.
He got her all rigged up how he wanted, then stripped down, revealing inch after inch of distracting muscles. A ploy, clearly. He gave her a grin. “So Mick and Cara are getting married.”
She raised one eyebrow. “I’m aware.”
“Smart-ass.” He grinned and his erection lifted, heavy as it swayed. He liked her sass. But he clearly was on a mission here.
She stuck her tongue out at him. That didn’t do anything to distract him into let’s fuck territory.
He put his hands on his hips. “And I want you to be my date for the wedding.”
She should have seen it coming. And she couldn’t deny the invitation made her feel good. But still, she knew what answer to give him. The safe one. “No.”
He didn’t accept. “You could think about it for a hot second before rejecting me so completely.”
“Okay.” She tilted her head to the ceiling. If her hands were free, she’d tap her finger to her chin in an exaggerated thinking gesture, but since they were bound behind her back, she had to let him fill in that detail with his imagination. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m having fun with this secret thing.” And she was scared of it being short-lived, but t
he same fear kept her from telling him that. She had to get over that, she knew it, but easier said than done.
“They know we liked each other. There was no denying our chemistry. Will it really be a big surprise to discover that maybe we still do?”
“I don’t know that we like each other.” It was sarcastic and funny, but it wasn’t even a little bit true.
“You like me.” He came closer and leaned in, his breath brushing against her neck. “You like me so much.”
She really did, and more every time they spent time together. “I like your cock.”
“Crude words from such a sweet mouth.”
“In my mouth. I like your cock, in my mouth.”
“That can be arranged.”
“You’re not going to blackmail me again, are you? Take dirty pictures of me on my knees and use those against me so I agree to be your date?” She smiled as he huffed a quiet laugh against her skin.
“That way it’s not your call? You can tell people you’re only on my arm under duress?”
“Maybe.”
“Is that your roundabout way of saying that you might consider it?”
“Only if you blackmail me.” No. That wasn’t true. She was totally going to be his date for the wedding.
This time the laugh was louder. “Arielle, do you want me to take dirty pictures of you?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” she said primly. “But yes, that sounds lovely. We’ll have to delete them immediately, and maybe not of my face.”
“No, I agree. Definitely not.” He traced the outline of her rope harness, following the silky twists until he came to her breasts. “But maybe these, with my dick between them.”
“Sounds amazing.”
“You’re the most perfect woman in the world, you know that?”
She tipped her head back and laughed. Hardly. But they were definitely good together. Maybe it was time to set aside her fear. “I guess we could sit together at the wedding.”
“And dance together?”
“That would make sense.”
“Hold hands? Kiss a little?”
“You’re going to start vicious rumors if you do that.”
He rolled on a condom and teased her with just the tip of his cock, a press of the solidness she desperately wanted inside her. “Maybe I want people to see how much I like you.”
She groaned. “This is a dirty trick.”
He lifted one of her legs, opening her up for him. “Say yes, Arielle.”
“Yes, Arielle,” she mocked, but it ended in a groan as he stretched her open.
“You want more?”
“Always. Blackmail is cruel.”
“You like cruel.”
“Yes!” she cried it out and he thrust home, wrapping his arms around her, pressing the rope harness into her skin. “Yes, I’ll be your date.”
“And we’ll hold hands.”
“Yes.” God, that shouldn’t be so hot, but deep inside, something hitched hard.
“And dance together.”
“All night long,” she whispered, tightening her leg around him. He cupped her ass and lifted her so he could fuck her from below, so she was hanging for him to thrust into, to fill completely and utterly.
“You’ll be mine,” he promised, and she trembled because yes, she wanted that. She wanted it all.
And it didn’t matter how dangerous want could be. She was hooked on him, and ready to risk everything for a chance at more than she’d ever hoped for.
He surged into her once more and she fell to pieces, her orgasm tearing her apart. And he held her until she found her way back to one piece again. Held her through his own twitching, explosive release, and only after she was done being reassembled into a whole new Arielle did he let her down and unwrap her from her bonds.
SEVENTEEN
WILL’S ARRIVAL TWELVE DAYS LATER PUT AN EFFECTIVE END TO THEIR STILL-SECRET HOOK-UPS.
It wasn’t the first thing that Brayden noticed, of course. The first day was a headlong dive into work. They were up long past midnight talking about their plans, and he stepped outside long enough to send Arielle a goodnight text. She sent back a message telling him to work hard.
The same thing happened the next day and night.
But on Sunday, when Mick and Cara went to church, and Will threw himself into the hammock on the verandah, Brayden realized he’d have to go to Arielle’s place—except that when he texted her, she responded miserably that Daphne had shown up to make paper flower bouquets to surprise Cara.
Another flurry of text messages.
Another day they didn’t see each other.
And there wasn’t an easy way around that. Arielle had agreed to be his date to the wedding, but that wasn’t the same thing as wanting to wear a label as his girlfriend necessarily. And between work and wedding plans, it was a miracle they still got private time at all. He wasn’t about to upset that delicate balance by pushing for hearts and flowers and a ticker-tape parade.
So he’d been cool with the status quo continuing—until he was sharing a bunk room with the nosiest, most observant friend ever.
“Heading out?” Will asked from where he was stretched out on his bed across the room on Sunday night. “With condoms?”
Brayden squared off his shoulders and turned slowly. “Heading out. End of story.”
His friend grinned. “Take me with you. Are we picking up?”
Jesus. “You want to go get a drink in town?”
~
Arielle yawned and stretched her arms out wide for extra effect.
Daphne didn’t look up from the flower she was carefully assembling out of photocopies of historical texts. It was an awesome craft project and a lovely idea to give to a bride who was planning on just plucking some blooms for her bouquet on the day of the wedding.
But.
But.
But…Arielle missed Brayden.
And Daphne was cock-blocking her. Blocking her from the super talented cock she’d grown super attached to in the last month. And the funny, sweet guy it belonged to.
Next to her, her phone vibrated. She picked it up, and her heart sank.
Brayden: Will wants to come with me into town. I don’t know how to tell him no. We’re going to hit a bar.
Arielle: Have fun.
It was kind of a snippy response and she was typing out a nicer, longer reply when his next text appeared.
Brayden: I’d rather have it with you. Come out. You could “run into us”.
She glanced at Daphne.
Arielle: Can I bring D?
Brayden: Of course.
She put the phone down and cleared her throat. “Do you think we’re getting pretty close to being done?”
Daphne glanced up and looked at the long row of paper flowers. “Yeah, probably.”
“You deserve a reward for this hard work. Let’s go out.”
~
Daphne figured out that Arielle had an ulterior motive as soon as they walked into the bar next to the marina. She took one look at the men sitting at a table on the edge of the dance floor, then spun around and jabbed her finger toward Arielle. “Are you setting me up with Brayden?”
For a split-second, Arielle thought about saying yes. Continuing the sham. But she shook her head. “Not you.”
Daph gave her a confused look.
Adrenaline coursed through Arielle. “Me.”
Understanding dawned and her friend’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, yes. I like that plan a lot.”
“Hush.”
“Does he know? Or is this a stealth attack because you’ve woken up and realized he likes you?”
Heat swept through her. “He knows. We’ve been kind of having a thing. Quietly.”
“You sneaky bitch.”
Arielle shifted from side to side, but Daphne’s expression was…proud. “Yeah, I guess I was a little.”
“Well I don’t blame you, he’s pretty hot.”
That was the least of it. He was e
verything. “I guess that’s Will Parry he’s with,” she said, ready to change the subject. “Shall we join them?”
Daphne nodded, then raised her hand and called out Brayden’s name. “What a surprise!” she said a little too loudly as the men stood up. She did the hard work for them, slyly putting Arielle next to Brayden as they settled into seats. “So…” She clapped her hands together as she looked at the newcomer. “You must be Will.”
~
At first, the spontaneous drinks idea went well. Under the table, Arielle wrapped her ankle around his, and he got to rub his fingers against hers as their hands dangled between their chairs. Jesus, that felt amazing. They shared a private smile as he poured her a drink and in that moment he thought everything in the world was damn perfect.
But somewhere between the second and third round of drinks, Will’s wealth came up, and everything went sideways.
“By the way, what’s with the office space, guys?” Daphne shook her head, her shoulder-length blonde hair swinging choppily as if to underline how strongly she apparently felt. “Isn’t that just, like, wasted rent?”
Brayden cleared his throat. He didn’t disagree with her, but it also wasn’t any of her business. “We’re starting as we wish to continue.”
Will leaned in and gave Daphne a charming smile. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We can afford it.”
Ah, shit.
Beside Brayden, Arielle stiffened.
Charm went over as well with her best friend as it did with her, which was to say, not at all.
“Sweetheart?” Daphne snorted. “Look, baby, if you want to waste your money because you have more of it than God, that’s your prerogative I guess.”
“It sure is.” Will didn’t give a fuck.
Of course he didn’t. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone.
