by Anne Jolin
Today has been far too long.
Slipping between the cool sheets, I moan at how good they feel on my hot skin. I plug in my phone once I’ve set my alarm for the morning and allow my body to relax. As I start to drift off, I hear my phone vibrate on the bedside table.
Thinking it’s Brax, I quickly pick it up, wincing at the brightness of the screen. It takes my eyes a few seconds to adjust in the blackness of my room.
When I finally do, I swallow to keep my dinner down. I should have caught my mistake earlier. Brax doesn’t even have my number, nor I his.
Unknown Number: If I ever see you stick your tongue in his mouth again, I’ll kill you.
“WAKE UP, MR. WEST, Mr. West, Mr. Fresh, Mr. By-his-self-he-so-impressed, I mean damn...”
I’m sprawled out on my stomach, one leg out of the blanket and my face burrowed into the pillow, mentally cursing my alarm clock. I didn’t fall asleep until close to three in the morning. Having been too rattled after the message from Kyle, I wasn’t able to shut my brain down long enough to rest.
“Good Morning ooooo oooooo...”
Stupid fucking Kanye West. It seemed like a cute idea at the time to use “Good Morning” as my alarm, but now, it only made me want to crush the rapper’s voice box.
I hear the pause in the music, which means the godforsaken machine is about to start replaying my wake-up call. After slowly crawling up the bed, I fumble around on my side table, clawing at my phone until I finally manage to hit something that turns off the sound.
Face-planting again into my pillow, I groan. “Would it be frowned upon to take a sick day this early?” I mumble, dragging my knees up under my stomach in a feeble attempt to get up.
“I would imagine so,” a dark voice rumbles from somewhere in my room.
I freeze. My face down in my pillow, my ass in the air, I freeze. My heart is seizing uncontrollably at the thought of Kyle having gotten inside the house while we were sleeping. God knows he’s plagued my nightmares—last night being no exception. Forcing myself to breathe, I try to push aside the darkness my imagination has descended upon and focus on reality. I recognize the voice. It’s deep and smooth like bourbon. No.
Gripping the sheet in my hands, I pull it up over my head and turn around underneath the cover. Now, I’m lying on my backside—my naked backside I might add. Squeezing my eyes shut, I hesitantly slide the sheet down inch by inch until it’s exposing only my eyes and the top of my messy, blond head. There’s no way.
“Rise and shine, babe,” he purrs.
I clench my knees together in response to the seductive tone of his voice. Opening my eyes slowly, I search for him. It’s six o’clock in the morning and my shades are still drawn, only a sliver of light falling across the bedroom. I can vaguely make out the shape of a large man sitting in the corner of my room. He’s leaned back into the chair, his arms are crossed over his chest, and he’s breathing evenly.
As if sensing that I need the clarity, he moves forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and his face moves into the light. It’s is darkened in a five-o’clock shadow, and he looks tired, like he hasn’t slept. The hunger in his eyes is breathtaking as he roams over my body, which is underneath the sheet. I feel naked under his stare. Motherfucker, I am naked.
Suddenly coming to my senses, I shriek, “What are you doing here?!”
In one swift motion, he stands, his body coming fully into the light. “I told you I was coming to pick you up.”
“I don’t mean in my house here. I mean what are you doing here here! In my bloody room!” I hiss, holding the sheet snug against my bare chest.
He stalks over to the bed, his grey eyes never leaving mine, and traces a finger over the outside of my thigh. Despite the fact that the sheet is still covering me, his touch burns my skin in a delicious way.
Dragging his thumb across my pouting bottom lip, he growls.
“Wake up, Mr. West, Mr. West, Mr. Fresh, Mr. By-his-self-he-so-impressed, I mean damn...”
Realizing I must have hit the snooze button, I reach over for my phone, the sheet sliding a dangerous few inches lower over my chest.
“Time to get up,” he demands gruffly, stepping back as I silence Kanye for the second time this morning.
“You’re an hour and a half early!” I seethe. “Don’t tell me what to do!”
He stands there expectantly, and I start to squirm under his heat.
“Well, I’m not getting up with you standing there, Princess.” I cock an eyebrow at him. “Get out!”
He hovers for a moment longer before turning towards the door. “I’ll start the shower,” is the last thing he says before walking out and leaving me completely bewildered.
I wait a few seconds to make sure he isn’t coming back before I slip out from underneath the sheet and pull on my silk, coral robe. After yanking open the door, I stomp down the hallway towards the bathroom. When I get there, I can see that he’s removed his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his dress shirt to test the temperature of the water.
Feeling as if I’m playing on a more equal battlefield now that I have clothes on, I lay into him. “How did you get into my house? Do you possess lock-picking skills I’m unaware of?” I snark, crossing my arms under my chest and glaring at him.
He looks amused until the motion of my arms causes his attention to drop to my chest and his eyes darken to a stormy grey—the same shade of darkness he had the night I saw him for the first time.
Pulling his arm out from under the spray, he swallows. I can’t help but watch his throat.
“I tend to avoid breaking and entering if I can,” he sasses, and I follow his gaze to see my hard nipples showing through my robe. “Your roommate let me in on her way out.”
I narrow my eyes at him until his lift back to meet mine. “On her way out? Where the hell would Peyton be going at six o’clock in the morning?” I wonder out loud.
“Five thirty.”
“Five thirty what?” I quip.
He steps closer to me and my body shudders without my consent. “She let me in at five thirty, not six.”
“You watched me sleep for a half hour?!” I shriek.
Leaning against the counter, he assesses me again as I stand there slack-jawed and gaping at him. “I hadn’t intended on it if that’s what you mean.” He looks a little bashful, but not much.
“What is it with you and this caveman ape bullshit?” I scold, steam starting to fill the small bathroom. “I’m a grown woman. I can get up, shower, and drive myself to work without some behemoth boss’s help!” I’m almost shouting now, my chest heaving from my rant.
“Not much of a morning person, eh, babe?” he teases.
Realizing that my interrogating him is getting nowhere, I shove past him towards the shower. “Well, if you were expecting a bright-eyed-and-bushy-tailed welcome, you should have caught a squirrel.” Reaching out my hand, I test the water with my fingers. It’s perfect. Hot but not scathing, just like I like it.
Rough hands move the hair off my neck and I feel warm breath on my neck. “I don’t catch things unless I want to keep them,” he growls.
I steady myself on the towel rack, struggling for air as he presses his body against mine from behind. All the sass, all the snark, and all the bitchy phrases I had lined up fall dead on my tongue. I’m left with nothing but all-consuming lust, an ache coursing through my entire body.
His hands trail down the sides of my body, finally brushing the bare skin at the hem of my robe. “And I certainly don’t catch anything I don’t intend to eat.” Rough fingers curl underneath the silk, dragging dangerously close to the inside of my thigh. “And you, babe”—he kisses my neck before blowing air across the caressed skin—“are a craving I’ve been dying to indulge in.”
My body is left quivering as I hear him exit the room.
It’s entirely too early to be assaulted with the force that is Braxton Bennett—entirely too early indeed.
I GAVE MYSELF two orgasms
in the shower and that barely took the edge off. I am running on no sleep, a wreck with sexual tension, the epitome of a hot mess. After having blow-dried my hair, I scooped it up into a high ponytail and painted a whisper of makeup on my face. Once I make it back to my bedroom without further…incident…for lack of a better word, I hastily busy myself with getting dressed.
Sliding my arms into the sleeves of my fitted, grey dress, I can feel him more than I can hear him. “If you’re going to stand there, you might as well make yourself useful,” I say, fumbling with the zipper at the base of my back.
His breath cascades over my exposed neck as his large hands settle just above my ass. “Only because you asked so nicely,” he purrs, dragging the zipper up at an excruciatingly slow pace.
I have no doubt that it’s intentionally meant to further torture me sexually. The sensation of his hands moving across my body, even if it’s to dress me, is sending my body into another fever pitch. I’m drowning in need again, my body damn near writhing under his innocent touch.
“Will that be all, Miss Rhodes?” he teases, tracing his fingers down my bare arms.
The bastard is all too aware of how he affects my body. Smug prick. Grinning to myself, I pull my arm forward before launching my elbow into his midsection.
“Ooof,” Brax grunts.
I consider it a small victory despite the fact that I think his stomach hurt my elbow more than my elbow hurt him.
Stepping into my black, sky-high heels, I feel like I’ve gained a little ground. When I swiftly turn around to bask in my newfound glory, I walk right into a rock-hard chest. Stumbling backwards, I retreat until my back is against the wall. Resting a hand on the wall to left of my head, he leans in. He’s standing so close that I have to physically fight the urge to taste his lips with my tongue.
“Perhaps I haven’t made myself clear.” His finger traces my jawline. “I walked away from you once and I will not do it again.” He tugs slightly on my chin, effectively parting my lips, making my breath hitch. “So if you think for even a second that you can run from me, babe, let me make it abundantly clear.” His lips are merely an inch from mine. “In this little game of cat and mouse we’re playing, I am the cat and I will catch you.”
The sassy, stubborn bitch in me kicks in. “You’re the cat? I’m the one with the puss—”
Before I can finish, his lips crash into mine. It’s not a delicate kiss—nor a sweet one for that matter. It’s a rough, passionate claiming of souls.
The sound of a phone ringing in the distance startles us both. When I finally pull away from his full, perfect lips, I realize that it’s the sound of the text tone on my cell phone. Brax must see the momentary panic flash over my features, because within seconds, he’s moving across the room.
“Brax, don’t. Please,” I beg, knowing that the message Kyle sent last night is still there.
He ignores me, grabbing the phone from the nightstand. It’s like a calm before the storm. You know it’s coming, you can feel it in the air, but you’re helpless to stop it. That moment lasts a mere thirty seconds at best before the lamp on my nightstand is ripped from the wall.
“Piece of fucking shit!” he roars, sending the helpless object smashing into the wall across the room.
I feel sick, absolutely fucking sick, that I continue to cause a man I’ve just met so much pain.
Brax’s body is vibrating, furious rage pulsing off him in waves—something I’ve come to notice occurs rather often with him. He launches something else at the wall. This time, the victim is my iPhone. It’s nearly obliterated as it joins the shards of glass on the carpet.
Again, I’m aware that I don’t feel even a moment of fear during his violent outburst. I feel nothing but overwhelming hurt and compassion for my dark savior as he collapses onto the bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands. If I didn’t know what it is, I’d think he is having a seizure with the violent way his body is convulsing. His back is still heaving, a result of struggling to breathe deeply.
With less caution than yesterday, I approach him, not stopping until I’m standing directly in front of him. I push his shoulders until he finally moves to sit upright. His grey eyes look wild and confused, like he’s an entirely different man than he was earlier. Hitching my dress up my thighs, I do the only thing I can think of and climb onto his lap. Now straddling him, I grab his arms and position them around my waist. He’s still shuddering as I wrap my arms around his neck, folding my body around his in an attempt to ward off his demons.
He reacts to my touch almost instantly, burying his head into the crook of my neck and tightening his arms around my waist. It takes less time than it did the day before for him to come down off whatever proverbial ledge the message seems to have thrust him onto. Running my hands through his inky, black hair, I feel his body start to relax and his breathing begin to even out.
“That night I saw you,” he says, still clutching my body like a lifeline, “I wanted you. I wanted you to be mine. I felt you watching me, and I’d never craved another thing in this world like I craved you.” The muscles in Brax’s body tense abruptly as he continues. “But you were with him, and I live in two worlds. Two worlds that can never coexist. Ever. I thought you were better off never knowing me, but when I saw you…” His body starts to shake again. “When I saw him with his hands on you, it took everything I had not to kill him, and I should have—”
I interrupt him, cupping his beautiful, tortured face in my hands. “This isn’t your fault, Brax. You saved me from him.”
Closing his eyes, he sucks in a rough breath of air. “I was terrified that I could never juggle both lives and have you at the same time, so I left. I walked out of that hospital and your life before I ever had the chance to taint you.” His grey eyes open, seeking refuge in mine. “I can’t do that again. I won’t.”
“No one’s asking you to,” I whisper, kissing him softly on the lips.
He tips my chin up, looking me directly in the eyes. “You’re mine, Beth, and this time”—he pauses, wrestling with the darkness in his soul—“if he comes for you again, I’ll fucking kill him.”
There isn’t a shadow of a doubt in my mind that he means it.
Brax was visibly distraught whenever he wasn’t able to touch me. He was wound so tight that it was as if he’d needed the contact to keep him from unravelling. The car ride was a struggle for him, not able to touch me as he drove the stick shift. Unable to watch him in such distress, I was quick to rest my hand on his thigh. He hadn’t told me what the text had said and I didn’t ask. I felt relieved to be rid of the device for the time being.
We arrive on time for work despite our eventful morning, and I am grateful. I really don’t want to be that girl who is always late for work at her brand-new job. Brax deposits me at my desk before disappearing into his office for a few hours.
“Still on for lunch today?”
I look up from the folder I’m reading over when I hear Nikki’s voice. She’s walking across the hall. “Is it lunch already?”
Her soft laughter fills the room as she nods her head at me. “It’s nearly one.”
“Well, then, take me to lunch, girl,” I say, winking at her.
She opens her mouth to speak when Ellis interrupts. “Who’s taking my girls to lunch? I don’t need to be jealous now, do I?” He grins playfully as he saunters up to lean on my desk, the side of his leg brushing mine.
Nikki’s blushing and I smirk at her before answering. “Your lovely”—I make sure to drag out the word dramatically—“assistant is taking me to lunch.” As much as I know I have things I need to discuss with her privately about yesterday, I can’t help the next words that fall out of my mouth. “Do you want to come with us?”
If looks could kill, I’d be dead from the glare Nikki’s sending my way.
“He can’t,” I hear a familiar voice growl from behind me. “We have court.”
Ellis chuckles, clearly unfazed by his friend’s rough to
ne. “Yeah. Yeah. I know. A man can dream though, right, ladies?”
“I’ll meet you at the car in ten,” Brax hisses.
I spin around to look at him only to find his jaw clenched and his fists balled at his side. Spinning around to face a somewhat confused-looking Nikki, I hold up one finger, signalling for her to give me a minute. She nods, grabbing Ellis and walking back towards their offices.
Turning back to face Brax, I wince. His feet are shoulder-width apart, his shoulders squared, and he looks ready to pummel someone’s face.
“What the hell was that all about?” I ask.
Gritting his teeth, he snaps, “He was touching you.”
I have to physically fight the urge to roll my eyes. “You’re jealous?” The situation would almost be laughable if he didn’t look so unhinged.
Scowling, he looks over my shoulder towards what I assume is Ellis.
“Brax,” I say calmly, touching his shoulder. His eyes close at the contact and he breathes deeply. “You’re overreacting.”
Nodding his head, he grabs me around the waist, pulling my body into his. “I can’t help it,” he whispers into my hair.
“I know.” I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him back.
A throat clears behind us and we detangle from one another to see Carol standing there, her eyebrow cocked as she drops a few files onto the desk. “I suppose that’s one way to handle your boss,” she teases, winking before she walks away.
“Frank will take you,” he says. I start to argue, but he waves a hand in front of his face. “It’s not up for discussion, Beth. He drives into the city each day regardless if I need him or not, so he will take you.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re doing that thing where you’re a bossy asshole again,” I scold, crossing my arms over my chest in annoyance.
Nikki comes up to stand beside the desk as he’s shaking his head at me. “Take the car, Beth. Please.”
