by Hart, Emma
I didn’t know anything.
Except for the fact I was screwed. Stuck between a rock and a hard place. Between breaking hearts and healing them.
Maybe even breaking my own.
Shit.
I ran my fingers through my hair. The band from this morning’s braid was around my wrist, and I pulled my hair into a rough, loose twist on top of my head.
I needed a drink. My mouth was so dry I doubted I could speak.
I walked into the kitchen and got some water from the fridge. I drank and drank, stupidly hoping it would calm the rapid beats of my heart.
Kids.
I was in love with two kids who had stolen my heart.
And their dad was doing the same thing.
And now, after this evening, my question wasn’t “could I do it?”
It was, “Am I good enough for this family?”
I didn’t want to ask it. I didn’t want to know the answer.
“Kal—oh, there you are.”
I turned at the sound of his voice.
Regret settled over his expression, and he wiped his hand over his jaw. “I’m so fucking sorry, Kali. What was meant to be a simple phone call turned into an intern fucking up three accounts, and me having to call every man and his mother to get it sorted out again.”
“It’s fine,” I said. And I meant it. “They weren’t a problem at all. They were perfect for me.”
“That’s not the point. I’ve already asked so much of you—Jesus, I didn’t even know the time. I thought it’d been half an hour, not over two.” He leaned against the counter and rubbed his face. He was frustrated with himself, and it was plain to see he was trying to keep it together.
Nothing I said to him right now would change that.
So, I acted instead.
I put the bottle on the table and walked to him. He still had his face buried in his hands, so I gently reached up, clasped his wrists, and pulled his hands away.
Guilty eyes found mine.
I leaned in and kissed him.
A gentle touch, meant to do nothing more than take some of the frustration away from him.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me into him, and softly kissed me back. I didn’t know if I was doing the right thing, especially after our conversation earlier, but it was all I wanted to do.
I wanted him to know that I didn’t care.
That I wasn’t angry or annoyed. That I didn’t blame him, because shit happened.
“Point taken,” he muttered when I pulled back slightly. He didn’t release me, though. “Were they really good?”
I nodded. “I came down and Eli was watching TV. Apart from him trying to give Ellie a leg-up into the cupboard and them watching me cook while sitting on the table…”
“All in all, it was a success.”
“Nobody got hurt, so yes.”
He half-smiled, and it actually reached his eyes. “You know, it’s funny. For someone who admits she doesn’t want kids, you’re amazing with them.”
I looked into his eyes. “Your kids make it easy to be.”
“Clearly, you’re forgetting that time when you bathed them.”
“No. I just learned the lesson not to bath them.”
He laughed, and I could see the tension leave his body. “Lucky you. I wish I had that option.”
I grinned. “You need to have something to eat.”
“Are you bossing me around now?”
Nodding, I flattened my hands against his chest. “Yes. You need to eat something.”
“Can’t I just have you instead?” He slid his hands down to cup my ass.
“Food and sleep would be more sensible,” I started, my breath hitching.
“I’m sensible all day. You make me want to be stupid.”
“Are you trying to say that being with me is stupid?”
Brantley paused. “See, I feel like no matter what I say here will be wrong. This is a trap, isn’t it?”
I raised my eyebrows. “I don’t know. Do you think it’s a trap?”
“That’s definitely a trap.”
I did my best not to laugh, but I’d never had a poker face, so that attempt lasted all of five seconds before it collapsed and I burst out laughing.
“I knew it,” he muttered. “I’m not hungry.”
“Lies. You have to be hungry.”
He shook his head. Then, with strength that shouldn’t have surprised me, he gripped my waist and pushed me back toward the table.
“What are you doing?”
“Ssssh,” he whispered, pushing me until my butt bumped the edge. He picked me up, sitting me on the edge, and stepped between my legs. “Shut up and let me kiss you.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I think I just squashed a bit of grilled cheese with my hand.”
He pulled back slightly. “That’s a turn-on if ever I heard one.”
“Squished grilled cheese,” I said, picking up my hand and confirming my thoughts. “Helping libidos everywhere.”
He removed the offending, half-eaten sandwich, and did a quick sweep of the table to make sure nothing else would get in the way of what was clearly about to become a make-out session.
I was okay with this. Especially when he got a cloth wet and wiped off my hand.
“There. Now, will you shut up and let me kiss you?”
“Are you going to do it anyway?”
“Yes. And I have half a mind to end with giving you an orgasm because you deserve it.”
I eyed him. “We’ll see.”
He grinned, then swooped. Lips on mine, hot as hell, and all too addictive. His hands massaged up my legs, over my hips. He flattened one on the table and pressed the other against my back to stop me falling backward.
His tongue flicked against my lips.
I bit his lower one.
He chuckled, making me grin. His hand crept up my back, and our bodies were pressed close together when he kissed me again. His tongue battled mine, and I felt this kiss all over. My nipples hardened and my clit ached, and I knew without a doubt that I needed him inside me again tonight.
I needed more.
I needed to make sure the way I felt was right—that I hadn’t been clouded by sex. Not that having more sex was the best idea to fix it, but still.
Then, I froze at a knock.
We stopped kissing, and at the same time, turned our heads so we were facing the doorway.
There, we found two pairs of eyes, fixed firmly on us.
And I had never seen such a look of disgust on tiny people in all my life.
“Ew,” Eli moaned. “That’s yucky.”
Brantley released me and cleared his throat. “Why are you out of bed?”
“There’s a spider in my woom,” Ellie announced.
“And a fwy in mine,” Eli said. “Can we swap the bugs?”
“No. We cannot swap the bugs.”
“Can I sweep in Ewwie’s woom, then?”
“Sure, but I bet Ellie wants the spider gone.”
She shook her head emphatically. “No. He’s called Bob.”
A spider named Bob.
How original.
“Right,” Brantley said slowly. “Eli, grab your stuff and get in the opposite end of her bed, okay? Feet to feet like you used to do.”
He nodded, and they both ran back up the stairs like a herd of baby elephants.
Brantley took a deep breath and looked at me. “It’s like they don’t want me to get laid.”
I laughed and jumped off the table. “So dramatic. You just went in too early. Rookie mistake. And now you have to answer all the kissing questions.”
He groaned. “The good news is that I finally have my bedroom to myself.”
He looked at me pointedly.
“Oh god, no. That’s a bad idea and you know it!”
“Stay.” He pulled me into him. “Please. Stay with me tonight.”
I wavered. On one hand, it was a te
rrible idea. On the other hand…
“Kali, please,” he said in a low, husky voice, sliding his hands down my back.
“Fine,” I whispered. “But you’re cooking me breakfast.”
He kissed me, smiling. “Done.”
***
Waking up to the feeling of a hard, hot body behind mine and a heavy arm over my waist was a new one. It’d been two or three years since I’d been in a relationship and spent the night with anyone.
I wasn’t sure what this was with Brantley, but as I slowly opened my eyes and wriggled, I liked it.
“Stop wriggling,” he murmured, slipping his arm beneath the covers and hooking it around my waist. He pulled me right back into him, tucking my butt against his groin and tangling our legs.
“I wanna see what time it is,” I whispered, leaning over and blindly patting my hand around the nightstand for my phone. My fingers connected with it. I almost knocked it off, but somehow managed to save it before it fell onto the floor.
I hit the power button on the side and winced as the brightness blinded me. Quickly unlocking it and changing it, I was able to check the time.
Six-thirty.
“Aw, shit,” I said.
“What?”
“I have twelve missed calls from my mom.” I dropped my head back down onto the pillow. “And a text message demanding to know why my car was still parked outside yours at eleven last night.”
Brantley buried his face in the pillow and laughed.
“Don’t laugh. She’s insisting on breakfast. Since this sleepover was your idea, why don’t you come and explain it to her?”
He propped his head up, his elbow digging into the pillow, and looked down at me. “What exactly am I supposed to say to her? “Sorry, Mrs. Hancock. I kept your daughter at my house all night so I could fuck her senseless?””
I frowned. “A little less graphic might be the way to go.”
“Just be honest and tell her you spent the night. Who’s she gonna tell?”
He had a point. While my mom was at the center of every gossip circle in town, she only ever received gossip about me. She never gave it out.
“Mmph,” I hmped. “I need to speak to her anyway. May as well kill two birds with one stone.”
He nodded. “Now, put down your phone and come back to sleep for an hour.”
“Hang on.” I quickly replied to Mom’s text confirming I’d be home at eight for breakfast and then put my phone down.
“Thank you,” he said when I settled back under the covers.
“You’re grumpy in the morning.”
“You woke me up. I had a plan to wake up before you and seduce you, but now I’m awake with an uncomfortable erection.”
I shifted and rolled over to face him. “That’s not my fault.”
“Your bare ass has been against it all night. It’s one hundred percent your fault.”
“You’re the one who made me spend the night.”
“I didn’t make you do anything.”
“True, but you gave me a very compelling argument.”
He hooked one arm under my neck and hugged me into him. “Mhmm. It’s eight inches long and likes you very much.”
“I can’t say the feeling isn’t mutual.”
He chuckled and squeezed me. “Stop it, or I might start to think you don’t want to go back to sleep.”
I leaned up and blinked. “Maybe I don’t.”
“Mm?”
“What’s the point of going back to sleep for an hour?”
“You’re right.” He effortlessly flipped me onto my back and positioned himself between my legs. “I can make you come at least three times in that hour.”
“Ambitious,” I said, running my hands up and down his arms. “You think?”
“I know.” He dropped down and kissed me. His cock brushed against my clit, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, giving him the chance to deepen the kiss.
He did.
Desire built as we kissed. We’d both only had a few hours sleep, so there was no reason for me to be so awake, much less this…needy.
All I knew was that I still wanted more of Brantley.
Still both naked from the night before, he made easy work of turning me on, traveling down my body in a succession of touches and kisses, from my neck to my nipples and down my stomach. He slid down the bed, taking the covers with him, and parted my legs with a gentle grip.
He glanced up at me seconds before he flicked his tongue over my clit.
My hips twitched. It was crazy, how such a gentle touch could evoke such a reaction.
I threw my arm over my eyes as he explored me with his tongue. He was a master at it—the way he took his time yet brought me close to the brink so quickly was a miracle. He dangled pleasure in front of me only to take it away again, and I both loved and hated that.
Because, when I finally came, it was the best fucking orgasm. And he knew it, because he slid back up my body with a smug smile.
I blushed as our eyes met.
“One,” he murmured, holding my gaze before going back down.
I gasped when he closed his mouth around my clit and sucked, flexing his tongue against it. It was so tender, and I gripped the sheets as heat washed through me once again.
Jesus Christ—he’d been down there ten seconds and already, I was on the edge.
A second one slammed into me. He’d barely done anything, and I was biting my lip to keep from moaning too loudly. He kept his tongue there until I stilled, when he once again leaned over me, this time, with his cock already positioned at my pussy.
He slid in easily, whispering, “Two.”
Note to self: he took a challenge seriously.
Long, slow thrusts into me covered both our bodies in a thin sheen of sweat.
This time was different.
Not like the first time against the wall—and not like last night, where it’d be hard and fueled by pure lust. This time was gentle, almost sweet, and although a part of me wanted it quicker and harder, I knew it wasn’t right.
I knew this was.
This slow, easy sex wasn’t a raw fuck. It was raw emotion, and I felt it in the way that he kissed me as he moved. In the way his fingertips moved across my skin almost reverently.
In the way my heart skipped a beat when our eyes met and I gasped.
In his eyes, I saw something.
It was a mere flash, a shadow passing over his gaze, but before I could grasp hold of it, he kissed me again. Deeper, and he fucked me a little harder, too. Not much harder, but enough that with a raise of my legs, burying himself further inside me with each thrust.
And pretty soon…
I forgot all about it.
***
“Shit,” was all I could say as I pulled up in my driveway.
I was an hour late, and my mom’s car was sitting there. My curtain twitched in the front room, so she’d obviously brought her spare key and let herself in.
I was really hoping to have been able to get in and shower and not have this conversation while wearing Brantley’s t-shirt.
Damn it.
That’s what happens when I have the great idea to have sex and fall asleep right after.
Of all the times the twins could interrupt us, waking us up would have been a great one.
We won’t even discuss the fact I ran out while Brantley was struggling to explain in kid-speak why I was in his bed this morning.
On one hand, I wanted to thank my mom. On the other… No. Not at all.
I got out of my truck and walked toward the front door. Hell, I was twenty-six, and I felt like I was about to get an interrogation about where I’d been all night. Like I was eighteen and past curfew or something.
I actually felt a little shame.
Dear god.
I shut the door behind me. Mom was sitting on my sofa, legs crossed, and her hands resting on her knee.
“Well, good morning,” she said without turning around.
Wh
ich was when I looked in the mirror and made eye contact.
“I’m just going to—” I pointed toward the stairs. “Yeah.”
“Kali! Get back here!”
I took the stairs two at a time and slammed myself into the bathroom before she could follow me. Luckily for me, there were two towels on the rail.
I took my time showering and cleaning up. By the time I finally stepped out from under the water, I was sure I’d never been so clean in my life. I could practically hear myself squeaking with cleanliness as I made the dash into my room to get dressed.
I’d just picked up my blow dryer when she knocked at my door. “Kali. Are you dressed?”
I started the hairdryer.
It didn’t deter her. Clearly, she’d had enough of my shit, and she was coming in whether I was dressed or not.
Which was why I’d had a lock on my door as a teenager. I’d never imagined needing one in my own home, though.
“Good morning,” I said brightly. “Sorry, I was late. I slept in.”
She took the hairdryer out of my hands, turned it off, and put it on top of my dresser. “And just why were you sleeping in, young lady? And where exactly was that?”
I wanted to tell her there were some things parents didn’t need to know about their kids, but instead I mumbled something incoherent and took a step back.
She pointed to my bed in a wordless order.
I sat down. Like a disgraced toddler.
“Explain to me why your car was parked at Brantley Cooper’s house at eleven p.m. last night and was apparently still there this morning. And why you came in wearing something that looked suspiciously like a men’s t-shirt.”
I paused. “Do you, er…Do you really want me to go into it?”
She waved her hands and sat next to me. “Well, I guess you broke the ‘no cavorting with clients’ rule.”
See? That was a real line, no matter how much he laughed at me.
“Couple times,” I answered. “Oops?”
Mom laughed. “I knew exactly what you were doing there. So did your father.”
“Oops.” That time, I meant it.
“Oh, it was obvious. Every time I mentioned him you got all dreamy-eyed. Like that time you were convinced you were going to marry Justin Timberlake when I took you to see him in concert.”
