“It will be. As long as the two of you are there, that’s all that really matters. You just need to remember why you’re doing all of this in the first place. Because you love him.” A strange expression crept over Darla’s face, as if Holly had struck a nerve. She knew then and there that something wasn’t right with her bride-to-be. “You do love him, don’t you?”
“Of course, I do.” Darla forced a laugh, as if Holly’s question was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “Are you kidding? I’d be crazy not to love him. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a man.” She wiped at her eyes and gathered her composure.
Just like that, her cool, confident, everything-better-be-my-way-or-else mask slid back into place. “I’ll go with the silver gown.” She pointed to number six that hung nearby. “And the girls can wear that one.” She pointed to a floor length taffeta number with red and silver trim. “I really need to get going. Sam and I are having dinner with his parents. Make sure they put a rush on the dresses,” she added when Meg walked into the dressing room. And then she was gone.
“You think you can pull this off?” Holly asked the boutique owner.
“I’ve got a store in Austin that I work with. They’ve got more of the bridesmaids dresses. We’ll have to have them altered, but we can pull it off. The bride’s dress is custom, but she’s close to the sample size so we can alter that one. All in all, I think we can make it happen.” She let out a long breath, then turned to Holly. “What about you? You’ve been eyeing that little black number all day. Are you going to try it on or what?”
“I can’t imagine where I would wear something like that,” Holly said, before she caught herself. If she wanted people to start seeing her differently, she needed to start acting differently. “Okay, I’ll try it.”
Meg smiled, grabbed a handful of dresses to return to stock and disappeared from the dressing room. The curtain swished closed behind her.
Holly glanced outside—it was starting to get dark. Still, she had time. She unbuttoned her white blouse and shimmied out of her black pencil skirt. She reached for the little black number and was about to step into it when she heard the deep, familiar voice.
“I like it.”
Her head snapped up and she found Travis Braddock lounging in the doorway behind her, a sinful grin on his face and a wicked light in his eyes.
And where he’d been dead set on helping her out with the roses last night and keeping his hands to himself, she knew the moment their gazes locked that he had something much different on his mind tonight.
Sex.
A girl could only hope.
15
I LIKE YOU.
The words whispered through her head and sent a prickle of heat to every erogenous zone—from her earlobes to her nipples, the backs of her knees to the arch of each foot and a zillion spots in between.
Her hands stalled and she became keenly aware of a few all-important facts. Number one, she was almost naked. Number two, she was almost naked in front of Travis Braddock who lounged in the dressing room doorway. Number three, she was almost naked in front of Travis Braddock, and it made her very nervous because she couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking.
Crazy.
It didn’t matter what he thought. Or what she thought. Their relationship was strictly physical. There were no games. No guessing. No wondering when the other would call or show up or what food they liked to eat or what they liked to drink.
Never again.
She concentrated on the buttons rather than the handsome picture he made standing there wearing jeans and a button down black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, his hat tipped low on his handsome face.
“That’s definitely my favorite outfit in the store.”
“I’m still wearing my underwear.” She indicated the dress in her hands. “I haven’t actually put anything on yet.”
A fierce green gaze swept the length of her in a leisurely motion that made her nipples pebble and press against the cups of her favorite lace bra. “That’s the point, sugar.” He grinned and stepped inside the room. The curtain swished shut behind him.
She put her back to him, as if that could shut him out. The room, set up like a giant octagon, had mirrors on all sides and she couldn’t escape his reflection. “What are you doing here? We’re not supposed to meet for another couple of hours.”
His gaze captured hers in one of the mirrors. “I thought we could get started early. You need all the help you can get.” He grinned and an echoing shiver went through her body.
She tried to undo the buttons on the dress, but before she could take her next breath, his arms came around her and his hands closed over hers. “Let me help,” he murmured as his long, lean fingers helped her work the buttons through the openings.
She tried for a calm voice. “I think I can manage on my own.”
“Two’s a charm.”
“I thought three was the charm.”
“Not in this case.” His deep, compelling voice vibrated against the shell of her ear.
“This isn’t part of our deal,” she heard herself protest.
His hands fell away and he let her slide the last button free, but he didn’t step back. He simply stood there, behind her, close but not touching. “What are you talking about?”
“The flirting. You’re flirting with me and I didn’t agree to flirting.”
“Darlin’, flirting implies playing and I’m doing no such thing. I’m serious.” His fingertip prowled along the slope of her bare shoulder and goose bumps danced down her arms. Her fingers went limp and the dress slithered to the carpeted floor.
She managed to swallow. “Then let’s do it.”
“To get it over with?”
“Something like that.”
“Something like that or that?” He stared at her. “You either want to or you don’t.”
“I want to.” Her voice softened as the sleepless night spent thinking about him finally overwhelmed her. “I really want to.”
He closed the heartbeat of space between them, his denim-covered thighs pressing against the backs of her legs, his groin nestled against her bottom so she could feel just how serious he truly was. His cotton shirt cushioned her shoulder blades. The material brushed against the sensitive backs of her arms as he slid his hands around her waist. Strong, work-roughened fingertips skimmed her rib cage, stopping just shy of her lace-covered breasts.
It was highly erotic watching him in the mirror, his dark hands on her skin, his powerful body framing hers. It was like tuning in to one of those HBO after hour shows, but even better. Because it was real and she could actually see what he was doing to her, as well as feel it.
The heated flush creeping up her neck, the goose bumps chasing up and down her arms, the part to her lips, the catch of her breath.
“So pretty,” he murmured huskily as his large hands cupped her breasts.
“It’s Belgian lace.”
“Not the bra, sugar. I was talking about this.” He fingered the tip of one dark nipple peeking through the scalloped pattern. “And this.” He touched the other throbbing crest, rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. “Definitely the prettiest thing I’ve seen in a long time.”
Lightning zapped her and she barely caught the moan that slid up her throat.
His hand moved down, stroking over her abdomen until he reached her panties. He caught the edges, tugging them down her hips, her thighs, until they pooled on top of the dress at her feet.
He slid his fingers between her legs and touched her. He slicked his thumb over her clitoris in a delicious touch that made her close her eyes and clamp down on her bottom lip.
She wanted to melt, but he was there to keep her from sliding to the floor, his strong arms anchoring her to the hard length of his body.
“Open up, sugar. I want to see you when you go wild.” He rubbed her a few more breathless moments before sliding a finger deep inside. She trembled and he drew her closer, holding her wi
th one hand while he drove her crazy with the other. He moved his fingers, plunging and stroking. The pleasure was intense, but it was nothing compared to the brightness of his gaze as he held hers in the mirror. The green of his eyes was so intense that it seemed to shift, brighten, glow into an amazing purple—
She blinked and the color faded. He moved his fingers again and sensation bolted through her. A delicious orgasm gripped her body. She caught her lip, fighting back the cry that worked its way up her throat, the same way she fought back the sudden fear coiling inside of her, a feeling intensified by the way he stared so deeply into her eyes.
As if there was something much more intense going on here than a little quickie.
His shoulders shuddered and she had the incredible thought that he was feeling the same sweet orgasm that crested inside of her. His muscles tightened and the tendons in his neck stood out in stark relief. Ecstasy glittered in his gaze and a growl rumbled up his throat.
At the same time, there was no mistaking the hardness throbbing against her buttocks. Proof that he hadn’t come close to a climax.
She somehow knew that he didn’t need to. This was more than just sex between them. The connection was deeper. Stronger. No!
“I—I need to get out of here,” she said, grappling for her panties.
For a split-second, she didn’t think he would let her go, but then they heard the swish of drapes.
Holly grabbed the dress pooled at her feet and yanked it up a heartbeat before Meg’s familiar voice echoed around them.
“I found a couple more dresses you might like to try—” The words stumbled to a halt as the boutique owner came up short in the doorway. Her gaze darted between Travis and Holly, and a knowing gleam lit her eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I didn’t know anyone was back here—”
“I’ll take this one,” Holly blurted, yanking up the straps on the dress at the speed of light. “Can I wear it out?”
“Certainly.” Meg cast a glance between the two of them and a grin tugged at her lips. “I’ll ring it up.”
“Great.” Holly grabbed her purse and bolted past Travis as fast as her high-heeled sandals could carry her. “I’ve got to go. I’ll meet you later.” But first she needed to clear her head and forget the crazy thoughts pounding at her sanity.
Like how there was more to Travis Braddock than met the eye and how she liked it.
How she liked him.
Crazy.
At least that’s what Holly tried to tell herself. If only she actually believed it.
16
TRAVIS BARELY RESISTED the urge to haul ass after Holly.
He wouldn’t.
He’d pushed her a little too far tonight and now it was time to back off. He’d shown up at the dress shop, determined to tease her until she gave in to the need bubbling inside of her. She had. For a few precious moments. But then Meg had interrupted them. Reality had hit, and Holly had run hell for leather.
“I’ll meet you later.”
Fat chance. He came to that conclusion as he sat parked in front of the honky tonk later that night, waiting for Holly to show up.
Hours ticked by, but Holly didn’t show.
He tried to tell himself that maybe she’d had a flat tire, maybe something had gone wrong. But deep in his gut he knew better. He didn’t feel the unease. The panic. The fear. Rather, he felt an overwhelming sense of disappointment.
Because oddly enough, he wanted to see her. To hear her voice, the steady beat of her heart and the deep, soft whisper of her breaths. He liked being with her, and she liked being with him. She just didn’t want to admit it.
That, in itself, should have been enough to send him inside, in search of another female to bide his time with until Cody came home. He didn’t do liking any more than he did monogamy. It was the nature of the beast. He was compelled to seek out women.
Oddly enough though, he didn’t feel compelled at all as he watched a group of single women walk into the bar for girls night out. Any one of them would have wanted him.
The thing was, he didn’t want any of them.
He wanted Holly. Her arms wrapped around him, her lush body open and inviting beneath his, her sweet blood flowing into his mouth.
He slammed the door on that last thought and headed back to the motel, and straight into a cold shower. He stood under the icy spray for several long seconds, trying to clear his head and cool the fire blazing inside of him.
No such luck.
He toweled off and stretched out on the bed. His muscles felt stiff. His body ached. The ceiling fan whirled overhead and the air whispered down the length of his body, over his bare chest, his abs, his stiff cock.
Desire knifed through him, cutting him to the quick and he growled. He was hard to the point that his teeth literally hurt. Frustration welled inside of him and he barely resisted the urge to go over to her house. To pound down her door, throw her onto the nearest horizontal surface and sate the hunger raging inside of him.
She wouldn’t have stopped him.
No, she would have given herself to him because, hey, she owed him. He was helping her and so she intended to pay up. But while she would be willing, she would also convince herself she was doing it to keep her word. Not because she wanted to.
Because she wanted him.
He’d vowed to hold back until she gave herself to him, free and clear. And he meant it.
Just because he’d backed off, however, didn’t mean he had any intention of letting her stand him up. She was acting on an out of sight, out of mind policy, and so she was keeping her distance. It was a strategy that would have worked with the average guy.
But Travis was far from average.
They’d had sex—great sex—and forged a connection. Not as strong as that forged with blood, but still, it was viable. If he chose to use it.
He never had before. In fact, he’d always run the other way, moving on, fortifying the distance until the link between vampire and human weakened and ultimately disappeared. That’s what would happen with Holly, as well.
But until then, Travis meant to use it to his full advantage.
He closed his eyes and thought about the way she’d felt in his arms tonight. How warm and soft and trembling. He could still smell the lush scent of her arousal. Hear the frantic thud of her heart in his head. Feel the silkiness of her skin against his…
The feelings shifted, until he wasn’t just hearing her heartbeat. He heard the rush of water and the sound of a radio playing softly in the background. The sweet aroma of strawberries and cream filled his senses and soap bubbles tickled his skin.
He saw her then, standing in the shower, her hair streaming wet down her back, her body slick and naked.
And then he touched himself.
WATER PELTED HOLLY, running in rivulets over her heated flesh. She turned her face toward the hot spray and tried to clear her head. She needed to stop thinking about what had happened in the dressing room. About the way Travis had looked at her. As if he’d never seen a woman he wanted more.
As if.
Women were his thing and Holly was just another in a long, endless line. She didn’t mean anything to him. She never would because he wasn’t sticking around. And even if he had been, she wasn’t about to make the same mistake she’d made three times already.
She wasn’t falling for him.
She turned the temperature up a few notches and steam fogged the air around her. She put her back to the spray and let the water soothe her exhausted muscles. She needed to relax. To sleep.
She had a full day tomorrow with Darla and the myriad of changes they were still trying to execute in time for Saturday’s event. They were changing the menu from a buffet to a sit-down dinner, not to mention they needed new table linens and china and place cards and…
The list went on and on and the only way she was going to keep her sanity would be if she got some much needed sleep. That meant no tossing and turning and thinking about Travis Brad
dock.
His name stuck in her head and conjured all sorts of lustful thoughts. She saw herself naked and panting on her back, Travis between her legs, plunging into her over and over until she cried out. Travis below her, grasping her hips, helping her ride him fast and furious. Travis standing in the shower right in front of her, reaching for her…
She shook away the image and grappled for the soap. Steam thickened the air and water burned her eyes. Her fingers wrapped around the bar and she concentrated on lathering her hands. The feel of wet, slick soap made her palms tingle as bubbles squeezed between her fingers. Sliding the bar back into the tray, she ran her soapy hands up and down her throat, over her shoulders. But she didn’t feel her own fingertips, she felt his. Trailing over her skin, circling her nipples, grasping the ripe nubs and twisting until she felt the pull of desire between her legs.
Her hands stilled and she drew a deep, steadying breath.
She wasn’t doing this. She wasn’t fantasizing about a man she’d made up her mind not to fantasize about. No fantasizing, no dreaming, no planning.
No getting her hopes up.
That’s where she’d gone wrong in the past. She’d looked to each and every man in her life, thinking ‘this is it.’ The one. The future.
She’d been wrong. Just as she was wrong now.
Travis wasn’t her future. She hardly knew him. Sure, they’d talked and she felt more connected to him than she had any man in a long time. Ever. But that didn’t mean anything.
Even more, it didn’t change anything.
Travis Braddock was temporary.
So give it a rest, will ya?
She focused her attention on reaching for the shampoo bottle. The sooner she finished, the sooner she could pile into bed and forget everything. She popped the push-up lid and was about to squirt the creamy liquid into her palm when the hard, smooth plastic brushed the ripe crest of her nipple. Lightning zapped her and her nerves buzzed.
She wasn’t going to do it.
That’s what she told herself, but her hands seemed to have a mind of their own. Her fingertips slid around the bottle, circling and grasping as she rasped the edge against her nipple. Once. Twice. Yum.
The Braddock Boys: Travis Page 11
