I opened up the container and dumped the pills onto the table then counted them out loud. I reached for one of the craft markers and wrote on the outside the number fifteen.
“All right, I’m taking this one right here.” I held it up. “And since the kitchen is right there, you can watch my amazing doctor skills as I chef up this bad boy. Every time you take one, use the marker, take back that control. All right?”
I handed her the marker and stood.
We didn’t talk as I crushed her pill and added it to some peanut butter.
When I walked back over to the couch and sat, she looked up at me with moisture in her eyes. “If I take this, I want something in return.”
“Hmmm…wasn’t aware we were still negotiating.”
Her bright smile was going to inspire a ballad someday, I just knew it. “One trigger. Tell me one trigger on stage relating to the incident.”
“Oh, so something easy,” I joked.
She put her hand on mine and squeezed, so I spoke. “The people. The biggest trigger is the people. All the excited faces, paying to listen to me sing, paying for a good time. And then I see all the faces that aren’t with us anymore, all the people I failed because I didn’t provide a safe place for them. So, you see…” I handed her the spoonful of peanut butter. “That’s why I’m a little bit hopeless, even for you. They want me on tour, the record company wants me on tour, but a tour means people, and I can’t perform knowing I could let them down again. I can’t sing about love saving a soul when the very song inspired hatred. I just can’t. All it took was a light falling and a superfan waiting for me to mess me up again.”
She put the spoon into her mouth and took the peanut-buttered pill then said, “Sure you can. Just like I ate instead of swallowed. We need to find a way to look at those faces in the crowd and use it as inspiration, not see it as failure.”
I gulped. “I wish I knew how.”
“That’s why you have me,” she said softly.
I looked up into her blue eyes and sighed. “Promise?”
She nodded her head. “Promise.”
Chapter Eight
Piper
He was right.
After about twenty minutes, the pill performed its magic, and I started to feel a little bit better.
Braden continued attempting his glitter music notes, and then he made us sandwiches for dinner. I didn’t even ask, didn’t need to; he just did things because he was good. I didn’t realize how starved I’d been for a partner until Braden. It was absolutely terrifying, knowing my heart already hurt when I thought about leaving him or him going on tour.
The pill made me doze off for a few hours, and before I knew it, the lights were off, and Braden was sitting next to me on the couch. My feet were in his lap, and he was slowly examining the injured one like a doctor would.
“Am I gonna make it?” I said groggily.
“You’re awake.” He glanced over at me. “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure that you weren’t having a reaction. The sting actually looks a lot better, and your foot hasn’t swollen any more.”
“Good.” I yawned. “What time is it?”
“Time for Netflix without the chill.” He winked.
I liked my feet in his lap way too much. “I’m sure you’ll survive. Besides, I’ve never really understood that phrase anyways. I mean, if I’m watching something good on Netflix, I’d be pissed if some guy just shoved his tongue down my throat and decided to get me naked.”
Braden gave me a sharp look. “I’d be pissed too. One doesn’t shove their tongue anywhere. That’s like bulldozing a kiss, and a kiss changes based on the environment.”
“I’m the one on drugs, right?”
He smirked. “Seriously. I mean, think about it. If you’re having a moment, you don’t just go for it, you lean in.” He grabbed my hand and held it close to his face as his mouth lowered, his eyes locked on mine. “And you very lightly brush your lips across.” He did exactly that, making my entire body erupt with goose bumps.
“O-oh.” I gulped.
“Though…” He dropped my hand. “Sometimes there’s nothing better than just angry, aggressive kissing. But in this instance, I’d probably just knock all the glitter to the floor, which would be a bitch to clean up later. But I’d be so in the moment, I wouldn’t care. I’d grip you by the ass and push you down onto the coffee table so I had the perfect angle.”
“For my mouth?” I asked, a bit breathless.
His eyebrows rose, and then he lowered his gaze to my thighs. “For my feast.”
I clenched my legs together and nearly let out a moan when he slowly removed my feet from his lap, then got on his hands and knees so we were at eye level before he whispered, “But since you’re injured…”
I licked my lips. Was he going to kiss me?
“Since I’m injured,” I repeated breathlessly.
He cupped my face with both hands. “I’d be tender. So tender, you’d barely feel my lips brush across yours.”
I gulped. He was inches from my face. His eyes darted toward my mouth. My entire body ached for him to close the distance; he was too far away.
I must have leaned in first because he met me halfway. His lips were soft, molding to mine like we were made to fit. I could taste wine on his tongue as it slid across mine, igniting a fire in my soul that I’d never felt from a kiss before. It was like I would never be the same again.
He pulled away. His hooded gaze was so sexy that I wanted to grab him by the shirt and jerk him against me. “I take it back.”
“Take what back?” I whispered.
“The whole thing about not being on drugs. I think I just found mine.” And then he kissed me again and again until I lost count. Until he was suddenly next to me on the couch. Until we were making out like we were in high school.
I lost all track of time, but at some point, he pulled away with a cheeky grin and whispered, “Netflix and chill, any questions?”
“Not anymore.” I grinned back at him.
He slowly got up from the couch. I was so disappointed he wasn’t taking things further. While at the same time, I wondered how I was going to find my footing and go back to being his life coach after he’d gotten so deep under my skin by way of kissing like a god.
He grabbed my pills, changed the number on the bottle, crushed up another one, and put it in peanut butter, then handed it to me.
I took it and then grabbed my bottled water to wash everything down. He was staring at me funny.
“What?”
Braden grinned. “I was just wondering if it would be gross or insanely erotic if I lined your lips with blueberry jam, took a nice lick, then sucked off your tongue until you orgasmed by way of peanut butter…”
“You—you—” I sputtered. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”
“You say, ‘good idea, Braden, let’s do that next time. But for now, my lips are bruised, and even though I know you want to see me naked, I’m injured. So, let me sleep—but stay.’”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Good.” He left the room and returned with two pillows and a blanket, then lay down right next to the couch and handed me one of the pillows.
I got as comfortable as I could, and then I dropped my hand toward his head and ran my fingers through his hair. “I like your hair.”
He snorted. “It’s bright.”
“It’s yours.” I shrugged, earning a genuine smile from him.
“Yeah, you need to stop looking at me like that. I’m trying this new thing called self-control, but you’re beautiful, and you taste like heaven, and it makes me wonder what you taste like everywhere. I’m pretty sure the damn coffee table is gonna make me hard whenever I glance at it because all I’m going to picture is devouring you on top of it. Sorry, what was I saying again?” He winked.
I burst out laughing and squeezed his hand tighter. “Thanks for carrying me today.”
“We all have moments we need to be carried, Piper,”
he said softly. “I’d be honored to carry you anywhere.”
I fell asleep holding his hand and silently wondering how I would ever eventually let it go.
When I woke up, it was to find Braden on the floor, sprawled out and shirtless, allowing me an incredible six-pack-fueled view. His hands were tucked under his pillow, giving him a devastatingly handsome look with his ruffled hair and inked-up skin.
My rock star.
No. Not mine.
Client. He was my client.
Ugh, even my brain was on board with my heart.
I’d known him for what? Almost a week, and already we were kissing. Already, I was breaking so many rules. And for the first time in years, I didn’t care. I was putting myself first instead of my job.
It wasn’t like we’d slept together. We just kissed. Okay, so we made out, a lot. And flirted. And yeah, I was tempted to grab my pillow and scream into it. I was so in over my head.
I wanted the fantasy of waking up next to him, of being able to just hang out with him. But I needed to help him—by any means necessary. So today I was going to wake up and attempt to keep from begging him to stay home and kiss me all day. Because as good as it sounded, sometimes a person needed saving, even if it was just from themselves. Braden needed that right now more than my kisses.
He turned to his side, making the blanket fall even farther down to his hips. I leaned a little closer to the sofa’s edge and studied this new development. Was he in boxers? Briefs?
I gave my head a good shake. I’d never done this before, crossed the professional line with a client. But with Braden, it was like I wasn’t even aware it was happening until it was already over.
I finally did grab my pillow and put it over my face, ready to scream when I heard Braden’s low chuckle.
“You freaking out or something? Let me know if I need to make chocolate chip pancakes. They solve everything…” His lazy look gave me shivers.
“You should put on clothes.” I finally found my voice.
His eyes narrowed. “But do you really want me to? Because I’m pretty sure you were staring mighty hard for the last three minutes while I pretended to be asleep.”
“Ass!” I threw my pillow at him but lost my balance and went tumbling off the couch, landing directly on top of him.
“That’s better. Why didn’t I think of that?” he whispered, running his hands down my back and clenching my ass. I could feel his erection through the blanket, and I was one hundred percent hating my job at the moment.
Wasn’t there a song called Sexual Healing? I mean if a song’s been made about it, it must be true, right?
I groaned and laid my head on his chest. “I’m pretty sure if my boss knew I was straddling you, I’d be fired.”
“And I’m pretty sure if you stopped, I would fire you. So…that leaves us with you, straddling me and giving me my favorite good morning hug.”
I squeezed a biceps muscle. “You’re impossible.”
“Thank you.” He kissed the top of my head. “So, what torture do you have in store for me today? More glitter dicks? Another eulogy—that was cold, by the way—or are you finally changing your ways, leaving your uptight pantsuits at home and ready for some fun?”
I yawned. “I’ll make you a deal. Participate today, and later, we’ll do something fun.”
“Fun of the sexual variety, or fun like video games? I’m a guy. You gotta make it pretty black and white because my brain is definitely not thinking about Donkey Kong. Then again…”
I burst out laughing and lifted my head. “I promise it’s going to be fun, and it will also be a learning experience. As to the rest of it, play your cards right and you may just get to hold my hand.”
“Holy shit, really?” He beamed. “For longer than five seconds? I’ve waited my whole life for this moment.”
“Cute.”
“Hey, you’re the one offering up the big incentives. I’m just reacting like any normal red-blooded man would.” I could have sworn he thrust his hips against me.
I narrowed my eyes.
“What?” he said innocently.
“You moved.”
“Prove it.” He winked.
“See? Impossible.”
“It’s why you like me.” He grinned. “Now, as much as I’m enjoying the slow torture of feeling your thighs wrapped around my body, I need to get up and make us breakfast.”
“Your breakfast cooking skills are quite impressive.”
He just shrugged as I slowly peeled myself off his body, angry that I had to do it in the first place.
He moved to a sitting position. “I helped my mom once my dad left. Funny story, the minute I started working with Adrenaline, Dad called to tell me he was proud. And then he asked for a loan.” He sighed. “Good guy, my dad. How’s that for shit parenting?”
“I hope you told him to go to hell,” I added with clenched teeth.
Braden winked. “I like your spunk, Coach.”
“Ah, back to that again.”
“Maybe I like to provoke you.”
“Clearly.” I yawned and then stared down at his vision board. “You added another picture?”
“Yup.” His chest seemed to pop out. “After you fell asleep snoring and drooling all over the place—”
I threw a pillow at him.
“—I thought of something. I realized that even if I couldn’t perform, I really enjoy writing, putting my thoughts on paper. Maybe one day I can compose for film or TV. Or maybe even get crazy and write strictly for other people.” He pointed to the cut-out picture of Frozen. “That was all I had to work with around here. But you gotta admit, Let it Go earned millions in royalties, and it makes people happy.”
I bit my lip to keep from smiling too widely. “Yes, I especially like the fact that it’s next to the glitter dick.”
He gasped. “Did my coach just say ‘dick?’ And here I thought you were so prim and proper. You’re just hiding beneath that calm, cool exterior of professionalism. Hurry up, say it again.”
“You’re too much in the morning.” I shook my head. “Coffee?”
“Yeah, about that,” He stood and offered me his hand. “Why don’t I Door Dash us some shit? I know a place that has scones that make you orgasm on the spot—consider yourself warned. I know you have plans for us, but there’s no rush, and you’re probably sore.”
“Orgasming scones?” I repeated.
“I’m so glad you fixated on my favorite part.” He winked.
I rolled my eyes. “Coffee first, then we can work on the vision board. Remember a picture or inspiration a day. And yes, you have to talk about it. And yes, I’m going to start pushing you more and more. That’s how the program works. And it does work, Braden. We’ll figure this out.”
“What if I don’t want to?” he suddenly asked, his eyes lazy as they drank me in. “What if I fail on purpose and hold you hostage?”
“Pretty sure that’s also called kidnapping.” I yawned again. “And you’re going on tour, it’s important we get you ready for the crowds. Plus, I have another client set up for next month.” I hated myself in that moment, hated saying it out loud, admitting it.
I hated everything.
His face fell. “Right. Client. Because there’s a lot of us that need help.”
“Braden?” I reached for him. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just…this is my job. You know I obviously like you, I thought—”
“Nope,” he interrupted and grabbed his phone. I could see his arousal through his black briefs and instantly looked away, guilty. I’d had no business kissing him, flirting with him when I was leaving. But I couldn’t help myself; it was too easy with him, too easy to get lost in him. “I don’t want you explaining anything, least of all to me. I know it’s your job. I’m your job. And I don’t want to jeopardize that. Besides, it was just kissing, right?”
I gulped then swallowed the golf ball in my throat. “Right.”
He stared at me for a bit longer and then
whispered, “You’re a shit liar, Coach, but don’t worry, I won’t tell your boss that you’re the best kiss of my life, or that I plan on doing it for the next two weeks. It will be our…” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to my neck. “…little…” He jerked me against his chest, his length pulsing between our bodies. “…secret.”
I leaned in to kiss him just as his phone went off. With a grin, he pulled away and said, “Looks like the courier’s almost here. Be right back. Try not to fall into the fire or get bitten by anything else while I’m gone. All right, small-fry?”
Ugh, I was in so much trouble.
I grabbed the pillow again. This time, I did scream into it.
Too bad it didn’t help. If anything, it just made my blood heat even more at the sight of his six-pack as he brought food and coffee back into the room.
“I’ll pay you back,” I said quickly when he handed me the tray, only to have him pull it back the minute I said that. “What?”
“I have house rules, and those rules state that if I buy food or drink, you don’t pay me back. You say ‘thank you’ and eat with fervor, understood?”
“Understood.” I reached for my coffee once more. Again, he pulled it back. “Now what?”
With a wink, he shrugged. “Just like being my provoking self!”
I shook my head slowly and grabbed the cup then tried to stand. He was there in a heartbeat, helping me to my feet, and then he pulled away.
No lingering stares.
No wondering if he was going to kiss me.
Just…being helpful, almost annoyingly platonic.
Ugh, what was wrong with me? Normal adults didn’t just make out all day, did they? Maybe they should.
“So.” Braden cleared his throat. “Enough with the secrets. What’s on our agenda for today? You know, after I add to my very special board.”
“Let me drink some coffee, and then we’ll go over our plans for the next few days, all right?”
“Yup.” He gave me a salute and then handed me a scone. “It’s okay if you scream my name. God knows I’ll be moaning yours.” That was the last thing he said before grabbing his guitar and walking out to the balcony.
My jaw dropped.
Provoke Page 6
