by Anne Jolin
Running my fingers through his messy, black hair and down to the back of his neck, I pull his lips down to hover above mine. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. When he sighs, I take the opportunity to slip my tongue into his mouth.
This kiss is so much softer than the others we’ve shared. It’s delicate and comforting. He finally lets go, moving his body to lie beside me before he grips me around the waist, pulling my naked front against him.
I could get lost in kissing Brax. It’s all the thrill of a teenage make-out session with all the knowledge of an expert lover.
Desperate for more, I push his shoulders and try to straddle him. He doesn’t allow it, flipping me back down onto the mattress and backing away. His breath is coming out in short, ragged breaths, much like mine, and he looks like it’s taking all of his willpower to restrain himself.
Confused and a little hurt by his rejection, I try to roll away, but he catches me. Tipping my chin up to look at him, I close my eyes so he can’t see what’s inside them.
“Babe, open your eyes,” he coaxes. “I won’t ask twice.”
So bossy. I let the side of me that wants to please him win out over my pride and open my eyes hesitantly, doing everything in my power to seem confident despite the hurt rolling around in my chest.
“I can guarantee you that what your thinking isn’t what is happening here,” he says as his thumb swipes over my pouting bottom lip.
Looking away from him, I start to fidget with my hands. “I thought you wanted me…” I trail off, afraid that I sound like a needy bitch. Kyle always thought I was a needy bitch.
“Look at me, Beth,” he rumbles.
Well aware that he has, in fact, now asked me twice, I look up into his grey eyes and fight the lump forming in my throat.
“I thought I’d made this clear already, but I will tell you one more time, and after that, I never want to see doubt on your gorgeous face when it comes to me again.” He pauses, and I nod in case that’s what he’s waiting for. “I’ve never wanted anyone or anything the way I want you. It consumes me. I want to inhabit your heart, feast on your flesh, and hear you scream my name with me inside you. You are all I want.”
“But—”
He interrupts me, continuing on his tirade. “If you think it isn’t taking every ounce of my willpower not to taste you right now, not to feel your tight pussy suffocating my cock, you are absolutely wrong. I’d love nothing more than to get lost between your legs for the entire day, worship every part of you, but I won’t. When we fuck for the first time”—he leans closer to my mouth—“and, babe, we will fuck—it won’t come from a place of fear or some misguided sense that I can protect you from that asshole. It will be when you tell me you love me. It will be when you live under this roof for good. He will not ruin that moment for us.”
Well, fuck me. If I wasn’t turned on before, I sure as shit am now.
“Do you get me, babe?”
If you can call a whimper a response, then yes, I answer him.
“Good,” he says, climbing off the bed and shutting off the alarm clock.
When Brax disappears into the bathroom, I’m left staring at wood beams on the ceiling. The man whose mind is a maze just threw me another curveball I hadn’t been expecting, and now, I am so primed that I think I could come if I pressed my legs together hard enough.
Rolling onto my stomach and burying my face in the pillow, I let a hand slide down my stomach. But before it reaches between my legs, I’m jolted by a slap on the ass.
“Up and at ‘em. We’re going to be late,” he teases, standing beside the bed with his toothbrush in his mouth.
Glaring at him, I yank the sheet down, climbing out of bed in my birthday suit. “You’re such an asshole,” I quip, intentionally bouncing a little when my feet hit the floor so my breasts move.
His eyes darken and I wink. Can I torture him into having sex with me? A girl can dream.
Twenty minutes later, we’re en route to my house in his black Porsche. It’s still ridiculously early, and I wonder why exactly he feels the need to be awake before the birds are. My clothing from yesterday is piled on my lap and I’m dressed in a pair of his sweatpants, with a University of British Columbia hoodie pulled over my head. Even though fashion is my game, I wouldn’t care too much, but next to Brax, who’s dressed to kill in his sexy car, I feel a smidge ridiculous. Although watching him expertly cover up the bruise on his face with makeup was something I’d never expected to see him do. Not that I wasn’t impressed, however.
Soon, I’m turning the key to the front door of my condo. The doors barely open when a soft, chipper voice rings breaks through the silence.
“Morning.” Peyton grins from over her coffee mug.
I smile bashfully. “Morning. Peyton, this is—”
She cuts me off. “Braxton, nice to see you again.”
“Peyton, always a pleasure,” he answers from behind me.
“Oh right. You’ve met,” I mumble, feeling silly that I already forgot about yesterday morning.
I deposit Brax in a seat at the breakfast bar and go in search of coffee. It is safe to say that I’m not really a morning person.
“Do you want me to e-mail you then, Beth?” Peyton asks.
I furrow my brow in confusion. Good god, I need more sleep. I didn’t even hear her talking to me.
“I’m sorry, what?” I say, shaking my head.
She smiles, looking between me and Brax before speaking again. “The list of things we need to pick up for Hannah’s baby shower next Sunday. Do you want me to e-mail it to you at work seeing as you don’t have a phone?”
“Sure. That sounds…” Wait. I haven’t told anyone other than Wyatt about my phone. “How do you know I don’t have a phone?”
She suddenly looks a little nervous, glancing towards Brax again. “Well, it was hard to miss the broken pieces in your room…” Is she lying?
“Peyton, it’s fine,” Brax reassures her while looking at me. “I told them.”
You know what saucers look like? Yeah, my eyes look as big as those right now. Clearing my throat, I speak slowly. “What do you mean you told them?”
“When we got to the office yesterday, I realized no one would be able to get ahold of you and I didn’t want them to worry. So I called them,” he deadpans, not joking in the slightest.
Pursing my lips, I clench my jaw. “Just so we’re clear, who exactly falls under”—I make mock quotations with my fingers—“’them?’”
“Your parents. Your sister. Peyton and Lennon,” he answers, casually sipping the black coffee I poured him.
Fisting my hands at my sides, I try to swallow the fury that wants to explode off my tongue at the way he’s overstepped, but I know it’s to protect me.
“How did you even get their phone numbers?” I shriek—although I tried hard not to.
“Babe,” is all he says.
The one word says so much. Of course he could get their numbers in the blink of an eye.
After sighing heavily, I drain my coffee cup and put it in the sink. “I’m going to go get ready.”
“Oh, I left some things in the bathroom. Let me come grab them,” Peyton stammers. She was definitely lying that time.
Once we are out of earshot from the kitchen, I look at her. “Okay, little Miss I Forgot Something In The Bathroom. What’s up?”
Her face morphs into a serious expression and it stops me in my tracks. “How are you doing?”
I open my mouth to speak, but she cuts me off.
“No bullshit, Beth. He”—she gestures back towards the kitchen—“might have been the one to tell me you didn’t have a phone, but I still saw the broken pieces in your room. I can only think of one reason why the man in our kitchen would get so mad he’d break your damn phone.”
Leaning against the wall, I sigh. She catches everything, never misses a beat. “My phone went off and he was the first one to see it. There was a message from Kyle from the night before”—I shudder—�
�and a new one. I don’t know what it said, but it must have been bad.”
Peyton looks like she’s rolling my words around in her head until she finally squares her shoulders and looks me over. “I like him, you know. I think he’s good for you.”
I smile. “You’ve only met him twice.”
“Doesn’t matter.” She nods towards the other room again. “There’s nothing clouding his eyes when he looks at you. There’s only love there.” With that, she steps away, walking towards her room.
It’s then that I take in her appearance. She’s wearing black workout tights, runners, and an long-sleeved Under Armour shirt.
“Peyton?” I call after her.
Stopping, she looks over her shoulder.
“Where were you going to early yesterday and today?”
A darkness creeps over her soft features before she smiles. “Nowhere important.” It looks like she considers saying something more, but she disappears behind her bedroom door instead.
I’m clothed in a navy dress and black heels by the time we leave the house. My hair styled in loose curls. I can feel Brax’s eyes moving over my bare legs while we drive and the effect is mind numbing. When we finally pull into the parking lot, I’m back to panting under his stare.
The hours pass by at work and the sexual frustration rippling through my body has been making it impossible for me to concentrate on any task. I’ve made three stupid mistakes already and it’s barely eleven. I completed a juror file and submitted it, without including the person’s name. I double booked Brax’s court appearances, twice and spilt coffee all over my desk. I was a mess.
The phone double rings on my desk, signalling an intra-office call. “Braxton Bennett’s office. Beth speaking.”
“Babe,” he purrs through the receiver.
It sounds like I’m in trouble and I wince, thinking I’ve made yet another mistake. “Yes?”
“Please come into my office.”
After returning the phone to its cradle, I stand and walk to the doorway of his office. “You wanted to see me?” I say nervously, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.
“Shut the door.”
I do as he asked, closing the door behind me.
“Lock it.”
Once I slide the lock into place, I start to turn around and he speaks again.
“Frost the glass.”
I look out into the other offices. No one is paying any attention to us despite the fact that my chest is absolutely heaving. At least, if I’ve been bad, maybe he’ll spank me?
I mull it over one last time before I frost the glass.
“Come here,” he coaxes. He’s using a tone of voice that sounds like he’s afraid I’ll bolt. It’s unnerving and exciting all at the same time.
Crossing the office, I move around his massive desk to stand beside his chair.
“Are you having trouble today?”
I start to shake my head but give up and sigh. “Yes. I’m sorry there have been so many mistakes.”
“Is there something I need to know?”
This time, I shake my head firmly, and he grins.
“What has you so unfocused, Beth?” he purrs, standing up from his chair.
“Nothing,” I lie, biting down on my bottom lip.
“Ellis was right,” he muses. “You’re a terrible liar, babe.”
My breasts are rising and falling heavily with each breath I take and my knees squeeze together. Standing so close to him has my brain cells misfiring. When he drags a finger over the swell of my breasts and down my stomach it causes me to whimper and shudder at the same time.
“Mmm. So that’s it, then,” Brax says on a whisper.
I’m not thinking straight at all. I can’t even remember why I came in here. “I’m s-s-sorry,” I stammer again, not really sure what I’m apologizing for but feeling the need to do so anyway.
“Sit down on my desk,” he rumbles, and when my feet don’t move fast enough, he lifts me by the hips before setting me down so I’m facing his chair. “Pull up your dress and lie down.”
This time, I listen, laying my back down on the cool, black desk while hiking my dress up my thighs. I can hear the sound of him sitting back down in his chair, and when his breath skims over my knee, I almost buck off the desk entirely. Then his rough hands cover both of my knees and the pads of his thumb start to work in slow circles on the inside of my thigh.
“But you said…” I trail off.
“I said I wouldn’t fuck you yet, Beth. I didn’t say I wouldn’t touch you.” He lifts my left leg over his shoulder as his right hand slides farther down my thigh.
“Please,” I beg him as my body begins to squirm on the desk.
Using his left hand to press my midsection down and hold it there, he teases the seam of my panties with his right index finger.
“These are soaked, babe,” he purrs, running his finger over the centre of the fabric. “I don’t think you’ll be needing them anymore.” Curling his fingers around the flimsy material, he rips them from my body before tucking them into his suit pocket.
“Jesus Christ,” I whine. Or scream. I can’t really tell which.
He dips one finger inside me and my head starts thrashing back and forth. “So wet,” he rumbles. Adding a second finger, he starts to pump them in and out of my slick heat. “So fucking tight,” he growls, pressing down on my clit with his thumb. Curling his fingers inside me, he hits my G-spot repeatedly as I moan and writhe on his desk. “Just one taste,” he hisses, hooking my right leg over his shoulder.
“Brax,” I gasp when his tongue slides through my wet folds before sucking my sensitive bud into his mouth.
“Come for me,” he demands, licking and fucking me with his fingers simultaneously.
In response to his words, I come apart, floating away into euphoria as I say his name over and over. A minute later, propping myself up on my elbows, I watch him suck his fingers into his mouth.
“So fucking good, babe.”
Holy hell. That sight alone could give me another orgasm. As I pull my skirt back down, he admires me through hooded eyes. Then I sit up, my cheeks flushed.
Dragging me off the desk, he sits me in his lap. “By far the best thing I’ve ever eaten at my desk,” he teases before his mouth comes down on mine feverishly.
I can taste myself on his lips, which is wickedly erotic. Threading my fingers into his hair, I deepen the kiss, biting down on his bottom lip. I hear him suck in a breath as he reluctantly pulls away from me.
“Can you concentrate on your job now, Miss Rhodes?” He smirks, raising an eyebrow at me.
“Yes, Mr. Bennett. You’ve been incredibly helpful. Will that be all?”
“For now,” he purrs as I climb off his lap.
Sauntering across the office, I look over my shoulder and catch him adjusting himself under the desk.
I am going to have him in my mouth today. Not even he can stop me, I think as I settle back down into my desk.
THE REMAINDER OF the day went by quickly. Needless to say, I was much more effective after the meeting I’d had with my boss. Frank took Nikki and me to lunch, which I am now assuming would be standard protocol for the time being.
He didn’t ask me to come home with him again today but nonetheless, he is driving the car up his driveway. Not that it really matters anyway. I want to be with him, and I was smart enough to pack an overnight bag this time—just in case.
It is lighter than it was when we arrived last night, and it allows me to take in so much more of his brilliant estate. There are wicker lounge chairs surrounding a fire pit on one side of the house and a detached building that looks like it houses an indoor swimming pool. Which makes sense—it’s far too cold here to have an outdoor one.
We do the same routine as yesterday: park the car in the garage and walk through the mudroom before entering the kitchen.
“Would you like something to drink?” he asks, opening the fridge.
My eyes flutter over
the custom cabinetry and stainless-steel appliances as I sit down on stool at the kitchen island. “I’ll have a beer,” I respond, still absentmindedly looking over the expansive room.
He pops the top off a Granville Island brew before setting it down in front of me. While raising the bottle neck to my lips, I pause when I realize he’s drinking from a water bottle.
“You’re not having one?” I ask, setting the beer back down without taking a sip.
“I don’t drink,” he says, looking embarrassed. After thinking about it for a second, I reach over and dump the contents of the bottle in the sink. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Can I ask why you don’t drink?”
He smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You can ask me anything, babe,” he responds, pulling something out of the freezer. “Alcohol and my temper don’t mix well. It was another term of condition when Frank took me on. Not that I minded—I was never a big drinker to start with.” There’s shame on his face as he turns on the oven across from me. “So it’s really okay if you want to have one. It doesn’t bother me.”
Upon standing up, I circle the island and wrap my arms around his waist from behind. “If you can’t drink, I won’t drink. I was never much for it anyway.”
When he puts a hand over mine on his stomach, I hear it growl.
“Ha. I guess maybe I did need to eat more than you today,” he teases.
I unwrap my arms from his waist and return to my stool while he puts the dish in the oven. “You cook and freeze meals? That seems very Jami Henley of you,” I sass.
He grips the countertop, and this time, it’s his mouth that growls. “Who is Jami?” It’s amazing how quickly he can go from playful to jealous.
“Easy, tiger.” I raise my hands up in the air in mock surrender. “No need to go all alpha male and shit. Jami is Lennon’s fiancé. He’s like the Martha Stewart of Rock Falls if you will.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.” I giggle.
Cocking an eyebrow at me, he tilts his head. “Are you laughing at me?”
After considering it for a moment, I nod. “Yes. I’m laughing at you, you caveman. Now, who makes the food if it’s not you?”
