I lifted my hips, urging him to move, feeling the pleasure start to coil again, feeling full of him and desperate for satisfaction. “It’s been a while.”
His eyes flew open. “How long?”
“Braden…”
“How long?”
I sighed. “Four years.”
“Babe.” He dipped his head and kissed me lightly and when he pulled back his cocky grin was in place. He surged deeper inside me, his hands moving up from my wrists so his fingers could tangle through mine. Like this, he held me as he gently moved inside me, taunting me towards climax and yanking me back.
“Harder,” I gasped.
His lips skimmed my ear. “Ask for it, Jocelyn.”
“Braden, harder. Fuck me harder.”
I raised my hips and Braden slammed back into me. I cried out, my neck arching. He groaned against my ear as he thrust hard, our bodies so focused on reaching climax his hands let go of mine. I immediately gripped tight to his hips and he cupped my ass, tilting me higher so his cock could slide deeper.
“Come for me, babe,” he ordered roughly.
I nodded, feeling the pressure in my body build. I was almost there. “Braden, Braden…”
His hand slipped between my legs and his thumb massaged my clit in beautiful circles.
“Oh God!” I cried out as he wrenched the orgasm out of me, my sex tightening and pulsing around his cock.
“Fuck.” His eyes widened as he stared down at me, watching me as I came long and hard. I closed my eyes, desperate to break the connection between us in that moment and I felt Braden’s head drop to the crook of my neck as he shuddered, his deep grunt as he came inside me making me spasm against the wet heat of his release.
He relaxed into me, his breath hot on my neck as we both struggled to breathe normally. My muscles felt warm and gooey, my thighs resting against the top sides of his. We smelled of fresh sweat and sex, and I was still pulsing around him.
Wow.
Best. Sex. Ever.
Braden kissed my neck and raised his head, his features soft with post-coital satisfaction. “Jocelyn,” he murmured before he kissed me slowly, wet and deep. When he pulled back, he slid out of me carefully, rolling onto his side, his hand stroking tenderly across my belly as he did.
I stared at him, wondering a lot of things.
Had it been just as earth shattering for him? He’d come hard too, so I hoped so.
And what happened now? Why was he just lying there, staring at me?
I looked up at the ceiling, unnerved by that soft look in his eyes. “Um… thanks.”
Feeling the mattress shake, I turned my head on the pillow to find Braden laughing at me.
“What?”
He shook his head, clearly amused at me for some reason. He leaned over and pressed another kiss to my mouth. “You’re welcome.” He grinned, his thumb brushing my lower lip. “And thank you. Fucking great sex, babe.”
I burst out laughing. From relief. From hysteria. From disbelief.
I’d just had sex, phenomenal sex, with Braden Carmichael. And I was pretty sure we were going to do it again sometime. And I wanted to.
But on my terms. “I’m going to clean up.” I got out of the bed, unabashed by my nudity since he’d made it perfectly clear he liked what he saw. As I strolled casually down the hall to the bathroom, I hoped Braden knew what ‘I’m going to clean up’ really meant: by the time I got back to the bedroom, his ass better be dressed and ready to leave.
But when I got back from the bathroom, his ass was still lying in bed, waiting for me.
I threw my hands to my hips, a scowl furrowing my brow. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be dressed?”
He flashed a taunting smile my way. “Do you know how sexy you are right now?”
I rolled my eyes. “Braden.”
At my warning tone, his smile disappeared and he sat up. “I’m not leaving yet.”
“But you are leaving?”
He didn’t respond verbally. Instead he reached over and grabbed my hand, hauling me into the bed. Damn he was strong.
“Braden,” I grumbled as I found myself lying on my side with his arms around me.
He kissed my forehead. “You smell good.”
Uh what?
I glanced up from under my lashes to see he had closed his eyes.
Was he serious? Did he think he was sleeping with me?
I wriggled out of his hold and turned over, shimmying away, my back to him, hoping he’d take my hint. No such luck. Seconds later his strong arm was around my waist, his hand flat against my stomach, and my body was sliding back across the sheet, colliding with his.
His arm tightened around me, his front hot against my back. I felt the shivery soft touch of his lips against my shoulder. “Night, babe.”
Stunned, I lay there in silence for a moment.
This was not what I’d been expecting. Not at all. It certainly didn’t scream ‘we’re sexual partners only!’
And it felt good.
And scary.
“Are we… spooning?” I asked loudly, trying to insert bite into my tone and failing.
I felt the huff of his breath on my neck. “Go to sleep, babe.”
Uh... no!
As if sensing my imminent escape, Braden pulled me even tighter against him, pushing his leg between mine, hooking it around one of them. “Go. To. Sleep.”
Such a bossy a-hole.
“Spooning was not in the terms of our agreement.”
He ignored me. After a minute or two of silence I heard his breath even out. He really was going to sleep! I tried to wiggle but his muscles just flexed in warning and I wasn’t strong enough to get away.
So I lay there, waiting.
I was wonderfully exhausted by all the amazing sex, and sleep sounded like heaven, but I was determined I was not falling asleep in his arms. That was just a little too… relationshippy.
Forcing myself to stay awake, I lay in his arms for half-an-hour until I felt his body completely relax. Biting my lip to stifle any heavy breathing that may be caused by the exertion of having to move like a ninja, I lifted his arm as gently as possible and moved my leg out from under his.
I froze.
I swore I thought I heard his breathing change.
I listened carefully, relaxing at the sounds of even breaths.
Stealthily, silently, I shifted away from him, hovering near the edge, my legs descending to the floor. My butt was just off the bed when I found myself tugged back with such force I bounced off the mattress with a choked scream.
My heart pounded against my ribs as Braden expertly rearranged me again, moving so fast I was underneath him in seconds, my wrists pinned above my head and his body straddling mine.
He did not look happy. “Will you go to fucking sleep?”
I glared up at him. “Not with you in my bed. This was not part of the deal.”
“One: I bought the bed. Two: it’s just sleeping, Jocelyn.”
I ignored the bed comment since it was true. “No. It’s spooning. You said it was just sex. No spooning. We fuck, we have fun, you go home. That’s the deal.”
He studied me intently for a moment and then lowered his head until his lips were almost touching mine. “We fuck, we have fun, and then we spoon. I don’t go home. I don’t go home because sometimes in the middle of the night I wake up, and when I wake up, I want to fuck. And for some baffling reason, the person I want to fuck is you. Now, I’m only going to say this one more time. Go to sleep.”
He let me go only to fall at my side and tuck me back against him.
Spooning.
I clenched my jaw. “And what if I don’t want to be woken up so you can have your way with me?”
He pressed his face into my neck and I felt him smile against my skin. He kissed me and pulled back. “Why don’t I give you a preview of what I intend to do in order to wake you up.”
And then I was flat on my back again as Braden kissed his way down my
body. Knowing how sensitive I was, he stopped at my breasts, one hand playing with my nipple, his mouth sucking on the other. I sighed, lighting up for him, the fight totally forgotten. Already I was growing wet for him again, my hips restless. And he knew that too. Lifting his head from my breasts, he kissed between them and followed an invisible line down my torso, dipping his tongue in my navel, and moving further down, his lips skipping across the soft, quivering skin of my lower belly.
He pushed my thighs apart and then his mouth was on me.
I whimpered as his tongue licked inside me, playing with my clit. I was panting by the time his fingers joined in. My hands glided through his hair, tightening, urging him closer as he masterfully spurred on my climax, licking and finger-fucking me into a frenzy.
“Braden,” I moaned when he withdrew his fingers. I was so close. So goddamn close…
And then he was thrusting them back inside, in and out, in and out, his tongue working its magic on my clit.
“Braden!” I exploded against him as he rung every inch of that orgasm out of me. My body shuddered with more spasms as he crawled back up beside me.
Okay, that one had been just as ‘out of this world amazing’ as the last one he’d given me.
I lay there panting, staring at the ceiling in dazed wonder until Braden appeared above me again. He didn’t say a word but when he leaned down and kissed me, letting me taste myself as he flicked his tongue against mine, I felt like the depth of that kiss was saying it all for him.
He’d made his point.
My useless limbs didn’t protest when I found myself in his arms again.
Spooning.
“Night, babe,” his voice rumbled in my ear.
“Night,” I mumbled, my eyes fluttering closed.
Then it was lights out.
~13~
I was lying, staring at my ceiling, feeling the twinge between my legs and the ache in my muscles when I moved.
I’d had the best sex of my life last night.
With Braden Carmichael.
And then we’d spooned. I frowned at that, my head turning on the pillow to eye the empty spot beside me on the mattress. I didn’t like the idea of spooning being part of the deal, but since it came with added benefits, I was going to swallow my discomfort and deal with it. Especially since Braden had done the right thing and left without waking me.
That screamed, ‘just sex!’
This could work. I could do this.
The sound of a cupboard shutting in the kitchen drew me up out of bed, my heart picking up speed. Was Ellie home? And then my eyes fell to the end of the bed. Braden’s shirt. He’d picked it up off the floor. I checked my alarm clock. Eight o’ clock.
Shit. He was still here. What was he doing here? Didn’t he have work? Irritation niggled its way into my blood, and I could feel my cheeks getting hot as I hopped out of bed, digging out a tank top and pajama shorts. On the move, I twisted my hair into a messy ponytail and went to deal with him.
I stopped short at the kitchen doorway and felt that all too familiar squeeze of lust. Standing pouring milk into two mugs of coffee, Braden was hot. He had pulled on his suit pants but was of course shirtless. The muscles in his broad shoulders moved as he did and I couldn’t help but remember how good they felt moving underneath my hands.
“Two sugars, right?” he asked before looking over his shoulder with a small smile.
That smile hit me in the chest like a punch. It was intimate. It was affectionate.
It hurt like hell. My expression hardened. “What are you still doing here?”
“Making coffee.” He shrugged, adding the sugar and stirring.
“Don’t you have work?”
“I have a meeting in a few hours. I have time for coffee.” He smiled again as he crossed the kitchen to hand me my drink, my hand wrapping around the hot mug just as his mouth came down on mine. Addicted to the taste of him, I kissed him back. It wasn’t a long kiss. Short but sweet. When he pulled back I was scowling.
Braden sighed and took a sip of his coffee before asking, “What now?”
“You’re still here.” I turned on my heel and headed into the sitting room, tucking my foot underneath me as I curled into the corner of the couch. Braden sank into the armchair and I tried not to ogle him. My scowl deepened. “And you’re shirtless.”
His mouth quirked up at the corner like he knew exactly what the sight of him half-naked did to me. “I need coffee before I can function, and since I was making coffee for myself I thought I’d make one for you.”
“Surely you can function enough without coffee to call a cab?”
“And we need to talk,” he added, as if I hadn’t said anything.
I groaned and took a big gulp of hot coffee. “About what?”
“About your shifts at the bar for one thing. I might need you to accompany me on weekend nights. Any way you can see about having your shifts changed?”
I answered with a saccharine smile.
Braden raised an eyebrow. “Is that a yes or a no?”
“That’s a big, fat hell no. Braden, I’m not changing my schedule for you.” I shrugged. “Look, I’ll meet you halfway at best. If you have somewhere you want me to be and you give me plenty of notice, I’ll make a shift swap.”
He nodded. “Sounds good.”
“Is that it? Are we done?”
His eyes narrowed and I felt a sudden change in the air. Braden leaned forward and I leaned further back into the couch even though there was a coffee table between us. “Stop treating me like a one-night stand you can’t get rid of, Jocelyn. It’s getting on my last nerve.”
I was seriously confused. “You said this was just sex.”
“I also said we were friends and you agreed. Are you this rude to all your friends?”
“Sometimes.” He gave me a warning look and I exhaled heavily. “Look, I just don’t want this to get complicated. Don’t you think spooning and then making me coffee in the morning is a little…”
“A little what?”
“Uch.” If he was going to be obtuse about it, I was giving up. “I don’t know.”
Braden put his mug down and stood up, coming towards me slowly. My eyes followed him half-warily, half-lustily, my gaze trailing up his six-pack to his throat. I really wanted to kiss his throat. He sat down, close, his arm reaching along the back of the couch so I was caged in. “I’ve never done this before. I’ll bet that you haven’t either. So, let’s play it by ear. No rules. No preconceived ideas of how this should be. Let’s just do what feels natural.”
“You’re wrong,” I muttered. “I have done this before.”
To my surprise, I watched Braden’s expression change instantly from soft to hard. The look he gave me was unfathomable as the muscle in his jaw ticked. I felt like he was trying to bore inside me, but I couldn’t look away despite how uncomfortable it felt. “Done this before?” he asked softly.
I shrugged. “There was nothing in the deal about sharing our sexual histories. Suffice to say I know what I’m talking about. And there is no spooning or coffee in the morning in these kinds of deals.”
“Done this before?” he repeated. “I thought you said you hadn’t had sex in four years. That would make you eighteen the last time you had sex.”
Oh, I saw where he was going with that. I narrowed my eyes. “So?”
“When I was eighteen, most of the girls I knew thought they were in love with whoever they were shagging.”
“And?”
Braden shifted closer, trying to intimidate me. “So when have you done this before?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Fucking hell, Jocelyn, can you not answer one personal question?”
Anger blazed through me. I knew it. I freaking knew it. “That’s it, we’re done. This was a complete mistake.” I moved to get up but found myself tackled back onto the couch, flat on my back with Braden lying over me. I stared up at him wide-eyed. “You are such a caveman!”
An all-too-familiar pissed off Braden breathed dragon fire on me, his face inches from mine. “We’re not done. We’ve barely even started.”
I shimmied under him but that only concluded in him pressing his hips deeper into mine, and that only led to him hardening against me, and that only led to my skin flushing as my panties grew damp. Shit! “Braden, this isn’t going to work. I’m not your girlfriend. You said no touchy feely emotional crap.”
He bowed his head, his shoulders shaking. He gazed down at me from under his long lashes, laughing incredulously. “You are not like other women.”
“No,” I answered honestly. “I’m not.” He shifted again, getting comfortable on top of me and I felt the brush of his hard cock teasing me between my legs, my thighs opening involuntarily. I bit my lip to stifle a gasp and Braden’s eyes flashed hungrily. “Stop it,” I breathed.
“Stop what?” he circled his hips again, rubbing against me and causing another spike of heat between my legs.
“Braden.” I pressed my hands against his chest. “Seriously.”
“We’re friends,” he whispered against my mouth. “Friends can ask questions. Now who did you let fuck you?”
Fine. If that’s what he wanted… “Quite a few guys. I don’t remember most of their names.”
He froze, pulling back to study me. I saw the tick in his jaw again. “What the hell does that mean?”
Whoa! Was he angry? I glared at him, my defenses up. “I don’t do relationships, Braden. I told you that. But I like sex and I used to like to party. Alcohol doesn’t make for a loving relationship.”
He was silent a moment as he processed this. In fact he was silent so long I knew what he was thinking. And I felt ugly and worthless. I pushed against his chest again. “You can get off me now.”
But he wouldn’t budge. He shook his head, his expression clearing as his eyes returned to mine. “Four years,” he replied quietly. “You hadn’t had sex for four years. Since you came here I’ll bet. What changed?”
“That’s another question.”
Braden’s expression darkened to something so scary I was finally, truly intimidated. I tensed underneath him, holding my breath as his pale eyes fired ice chips at me. “Did someone hurt you, Jocelyn?”
On Dublin Street Page 15
