I felt that squeeze right in the bottom depths of my body and my jaw locked. Why did he have to turn me on so much? It wasn’t fair.
Covering, I took a swig of my soda. “Well?”
“I don’t like to share.”
My eyes flew to his and if it was possible, he looked angrier than ever. In this tiny room, Braden was huge and intimidating, and the comparison between our sizes more notable. He could crush me like a bug if he wanted to. “What?”
His eyes narrowed. “I said, I don’t like to share.”
I thought of Vicky. “That’s not what I’ve heard.”
“Let me rephrase.” He took a seething step toward me. “When it comes to you . . . I don’t like to share.”
There was no time to process that. One minute I was staring incredulously up at him, the next the soda can was hitting the floor and my ass was on the desk as Braden collided with me. The heat and strength of him overwhelmed me as his large hand gripped the back of my neck and his other tugged my left thigh up, allowing him to push in between my legs and position me over the desk. His mouth crashed down on mine and the desire my body had been harboring for him for weeks took control of me. I clung to him, my hands digging into his back, my legs climbing his hips as my lips parted on an exhalation of relief that allowed his tongue inside my mouth to tease mine. The smell of him, the taste of whisky on his tongue, the feel of his warm hands gripping me tight it . . . it all overpowered me and I made this throaty sound I couldn’t control.
His kiss wiped out any memory of Craig’s.
Braden’s hand tightened around my neck and he groaned, the vibration of it surging through me, skimming down my body like hands teasing my nipples, whispering across my belly and sliding home between my legs. His kiss grew harder, more demanding—long, drugging kisses that stole my breath. We were panting and pulling at each other’s mouths like we couldn’t get deep enough, my nails scoring into his sweater as I tried to urge him closer.
When I became aware of his erection digging into my stomach I was lost. My belly squeezed and I whimpered against his mouth, my panties drenched with arousal. The need grew hungrier as Braden’s hand slid up my waist, brushing my breast and coming to a stop at the wide strap of the tank top. He broke the kiss, pulling back only an inch to gaze into my eyes. His own were dark, his lashes lowered over them, his lips bruised. I felt two of his fingers slide under my strap and lower it, tugging the left side of my top down so my bra was visible. His gaze never left mine as he repeated the process with my bra strap.
Cool air hit my naked breast and my nipple puckered up invitingly. Braden’s eyes dropped to it and I felt his hand glide up to cup me. He caressed it, his thumb brushing over the nipple and I gasped as it tightened and shot a bolt of lust between my legs. He looked back at me. “You like that, babe?” he murmured, his eyes returning to my mouth. “Do you like my hands on you?”
Well . . . yeah!
“Or . . .” his head dipped and his lips brushed softly against mine. “Will any man’s do?”
It took a moment for those words to penetrate and when they did I squashed the hurt and drew back in anger, my arms falling from around him to yank my bra and top back up.
“Fuck you,” I snapped and tried to push by him only to have him press deeper into my legs, his hands grabbing hold of my wrists to stop the fists that were about to fly at him.
“What the hell was that out there?” he fumed at me, but was still definitely turned on, his hard-on digging into me, making my own body go to war with my head.
“None of your business, that’s what it was.”
“Are you fucking him?”
“None of your business!”
He made a low, irate sound under his breath and tugged on my arms. “Considering I want to fuck you, it is my business. And considering you definitely want to be fucked by me, I think it’s in your best interest to answer me.”
“You are an arrogant, egotistical asshat, you know that!” I raged, determined this alpha male douchebag was not going to control me. “I wouldn’t have sex with you if you were the last man on earth!”
It wasn’t the most original comeback. I know that. And it was definitely the wrong thing to say.
With my hands still pinned Braden kissed me again, nipping angrily at my mouth, rubbing his hard cock against me in torment. My body keened and my lips fell open letting him in. I tried to put up a pretense of a struggle but my hormones were far more interested in getting laid than having control over the situation.
“Are you sleeping with him, Jocelyn?” he murmured sexily, his lips trailing lush kisses along my jaw.
“No,” I breathed.
“Do you want to sleep with him?”
“No.”
Vaguely I was aware of the grasp around my wrists disappearing and my hands—with a mind of their own—reached for purchase against Braden’s taut stomach.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” he growled in my ear.
I shuddered hungrily. Yes!
Instead of telling the truth, I shook my head, trying to maintain some kind of control.
And then his hand was cupping me between the legs, two fingers rubbing hard against the seam of my jeans. Excitement flooded me in a torrent of shivers. “Oh God . . .” I moaned, trying to press closer.
His lips brushed mine and I reached for something deeper, something wetter, but Braden pulled back. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
Anger exploded over me and I snapped my eyes open to glare at him. “What the hell do you think?”
I tugged his head down, our lips crashing together as I pulled out of him what I wanted. His arms encircled my waist, pressing our bodies together as our mouths fed hungrily on each other. Impatience raged between us, and Braden’s strong hands slid their way down my back and under my butt, lifting me easily. My body understood what he wanted and my legs automatically wrapped around his waist as he turned around and took two steps to press me against the wall, his erection rubbing against the v of my jeans as his hips thrust into me. Satisfaction and need slammed through me and I gasped against his mouth, silently begging for more.
“Oh fuck, sorry!” Alistair’s startled voice penetrated the fog and I jerked back from Braden, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I tried to catch my breath.
I gazed at Alistair in horror as reality returned.
What. The. Hell.
Oh fuckity, fuckity, fuck fuck fuck! I sucked at self-control! “Shit,” I breathed out.
Alistair’s confused gaze flew between me and Braden before coming back to me. “Break’s over.”
I swallowed past the panicked and sexually aroused lump in my throat. “I’ll be right out.”
As soon as he was gone, I felt the room close in on me. I was still wrapped around Braden. I unwrapped my legs, and Braden lowered me to the ground. As soon as my feet were stable, I pressed a hand to his chest, pushing him back. “I need to get back to work.”
Gentle fingers grasped my chin and forced my gaze up to his. His expression was granite, determined, controlled . . . and completely at odds with his swollen mouth and mussed up hair. “We need to talk.”
About my complete lack of control and willpower? “I don’t have time right now.”
“Then I’ll come over tomorrow night.”
“Braden-”
His grip on my chin tightened, quieting me. “I’ll come over tomorrow night.”
This was not happening. How could I let this happen? “Braden, I don’t want anything to happen between us.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Tell that to your damp knickers, babe.”
I narrowed my eyes on him. “You are such a dick.”
He grinned widely and leaned down to brush a soft kiss across my lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
/> I grabbed a hold of his sweater, stopping him from leaving. “Braden, I mean it!”
Chuckling, he patiently uncurled my fingers from his sweater and stepped back. “I have a proposition. I’ll come over tomorrow to discuss it.”
Argh! Was he deaf? “Braden-”
“Good night, Jocelyn.”
“Braden-”
“Oh.” He turned back to me at the door and his expression hardened. “I’ll be waiting until the end of the shift to put you and Ellie in a taxi. I see you flirting with that wanker again and I’ll knock his teeth out.”
And then poof! He was gone.
I took stock a moment, unable to believe what I’d just allowed to happen. But my lips were throbbing from those desperate kisses, my cheeks burning from the scrape of his two-day beard, my heart racing and my panties (or knickers) definitely wet.
Worse . . . I was still so freaking turned on I had half a mind to shut the door and finish what he’d started myself.
Tomorrow this had to end. If Braden could so completely take me over like that, there was no way I could go any further with this.
Maybe I should move out.
My chest ached at the thought of leaving Ellie and the apartment on Dublin Street. No! I could do this. I could put the arrogant jackhole in his place.
I nodded, standing up on my feet only to wobble a little.
I rolled my eyes. Why the hell did he have to be the human version of a sexually charged nuclear weapon? Grumbling, I put myself back together as much as I could, and headed out to the bar, ignoring Alistair’s quizzical looks, Braden’s burning gaze and Craig’s attempts at flirting.
I liked Craig’s teeth where they were, thank you very much.
Chapter 11
My keys clattered against the walnut of the sideboard in the hallway, the first loud noise to break the silence between me and Ellie. After a busy night at the bar my head was usually buzzing, and it took me a few hours to unwind before I could head to bed, but tonight it was worse. I could still feel Braden on my mouth, on my breast, between my legs. I could still smell and taste him for God’s sake. And I pretended I felt none of this as he did as promised and saw me and Ellie into a cab after my shift. In fact I didn’t say a word to him.
I didn’t say a word to anyone.
Alistair and Braden were the only two who knew why. Craig watched me in confusion for the rest of the night, probably wondering where my good mood had gone, and I avoided Ellie’s eyes. I avoided them in the bar, I avoided them out on the sidewalk, I avoided them in the cab and I was avoiding them now. Kicking off my shoes, I kept my back to her, and then left her in the hall as I moved through to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
“Are we not going to talk about it then?” Ellie asked quietly, following me in.
I looked at her over my shoulder, pretending ignorance. “Talk about what?”
She threw me a look of exasperation. “About the fact that Braden was seething over your kiss with Craig, that he followed you into the staff room and didn’t come back for twenty minutes and when he did come back he looked like he’d been mauled by a woman who’d been locked in an empty room without a vibrator, or a man for ten years.”
I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing at the visual.
Ellie was not amused. “Joss! Seriously, what’s going on?”
The laughter died from my lips. “He kissed me. We stopped. It’s not happening again.”
“Braden won’t back off if he thinks you’re interested.”
“I’m not interested.” I’m so interested.
“I think you are and I-”
“Ellie.” I whirled around, my nerves stretched to the max. “Just stop okay. Please. I don’t want to talk about this.”
She looked like a kid who’d had her favorite toy taken away. “But-”
“Ellie.”
“Fine.” She sighed.
In an effort to take her mind off of it, I leaned back against the counter with a concerned quirk of my right eyebrow. “So what was up with you and Adam tonight?”
“I’m like you. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Yeah right. “Ellie . . .”
Her pale eyes narrowed unhappily. “Okay, so I want to talk about it. Dammit, how can you be so good at the whole keeping things to yourself thing?” she pouted. “It’s really hard.”
I grinned and shook my head. “Not for me.”
She stuck her tongue out at me and slumped wearily into a kitchen chair. “I’m knackered. Tonight was exhausting.”
“Hence the crabby?”
“I’m not crabby.”
“You’re a little crabby.”
“Well you would be too if you’d had to put up with Adam tonight.”
I slipped into the seat beside her, wondering if I should hit the gym harder this week in preparation for kicking Adam’s ass. “What happened, honey?”
“He’s confusing me.” Ellie grimaced, eyeing me sadly. “He keeps saying that we’re just friends but he acts like we’re not. Braden’s so wrapped up in you he didn’t even notice Adam’s behavior tonight, and Adam used that to his advantage.”
“I did notice him getting all possessive on your ass, pulling you down beside him and all that.”
“Possessive? The harder I tried to be cool towards him, the more he got in my space. And then when Braden was with you, I called him on it. I asked about Nicholas and why he was acting so weird . . .”
“And what did he say?”
“That Nicholas wasn’t good enough for me and if I’d stop acting like a petulant child he’d stop being overbearing.”
Guy was good. I laughed humorlessly. “Nice way of side-stepping the actual question, huh?”
“Well you’d know all about that,” she grumped.
I snorted. “Meow.”
Ellie groaned. “Oh, God, Joss, I’m sorry. I’m acting like such a bitch.”
“I find it charming. Really.”
She giggled and shook her head, her eyes drooping tiredly. “You’re crazy.” She stood up. “But I love you.” She yawned as I froze in place at her words. “I need my bed. We’ll talk in the morning, try to make sense of Adam’s nonsense, yeah?”
But I love you. “Uh . . . yeah,” I replied, dazed.
“Night.”
“Night.”
But I love you . . .
. . . “Come on,” I begged Dru. “It’ll be fun. Kyle will be there.”
Dru eyed me doubtfully. “I totally embarrassed myself at the last kegger, Joss, and that didn’t involve having to wear a bikini.”
I rolled my eyes. “We all embarrassed ourselves at the last kegger. That’s kind of the point. Come on. Nate will be there and I really want to hang out with him tonight.”
“You mean hook up with him?”
I shrugged.
“Joss, maybe we should sit this one out. We’ve been going to a lot of parties lately.”
Grinning, I hooked an arm around her neck and drew her to my side. “We’re kids. We’re supposed to party.” I need to party. I need to forget. “And I don’t want to party without you. I’ll tell you what? I’ll even upchuck on a JV cheerleader for you. That way, no matter what you do, I’ll still have committed the most treasonous act of the evening.”
Dru laughed, hugging me close. “You’re crazy . . . but I love you.”
. . . The walls closed in on me as my chest squeezed tight. I wheezed trying to draw breath.
I was dying.
The panic attack lasted longer this time, those words refusing to allow me to focus.
Eventually, I struggled through to reality, pushing the memories back and allowing my body to breathe.
When it was over, I wanted to cry more than I had ever
wanted to cry in a long time. But crying would only make me weak. Instead I stood up on shaky legs and tread the memories into the kitchen tiles. By the time I changed and slid into bed I pretended it was all forgotten.
* * *
“You had another panic attack?” the good doctor asked softly.
Why had I mentioned it? Nothing good could come of it. She’d never be able to put a spin on what happened. “Yeah, it doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter, Joss. What triggered this one?”
I stared at my feet. “My friend.”
“Which one?”
My best friend. “Dru.”
“You haven’t mentioned Dru before.”
“No.”
“Why did Dru trigger a panic attack, Joss?”
My eyes slowly lifted to her, raw pain burning through me. “Because she died.” I sucked in a deep breath. “And it’s my fault.”
* * *
I woke up just before noon and was immediately blasted by memories of the night before. Memories of Braden and the taste of what was possible between us. In an effort to forget, I spent lunch talking around in circles about Adam with Ellie, and fighting off the nerves that kept zinging in my belly every time I thought about Braden’s promise to come see me that night.
I was just getting ready to head in for a bath when Ellie’s phone beeped and she cursed as she scrolled through a message.
“What?” I asked lazily, as I put away our lunch dishes.
“Braden’s been pulled into the office again, he’s missing another family dinner. I’ll have to put up with twenty questions from my mum asking if he’s alright.”
I ignored the disappointed pang in my chest. If Braden was working tonight he wouldn’t be coming over after all. I should be freaking rejoicing. “Your mom really looks out for him, huh?”
“Well Braden’s mum is a selfish, vain, money-grabbing witch who flitted in and out of his life whenever it suited her. He hasn’t seen her in years. So . . . yes. My mum looks out for him because his own mum doesn’t.”
How could his mother not care about him? He was Braden Carmichael for Christ sake. “That’s unbelievable. I can’t imagine doing that to my own kid.” Not that I’d be having any.
On Dublin Street (9781101623497) Page 13
