The Braddock Boys: Travis

by Kimberly Raye

  She kissed him slowly, deeply, tangling her tongue with his, drinking in his taste as if he were a tall glass of water and she desperately needed a drink.

  He let her lead for a few tantalizing seconds before taking control as if he couldn’t hold back. The kiss grew more intense, his lips nibbling at hers, his fangs grazing the fullness of her bottom lip. She grasped his shoulders and held on for dear life as he tore his lips from hers and licked a tantalizing path down the side of her neck, nibbling at the spot where her pulse beat frantically.

  But he didn’t bite her.

  No matter how much she suddenly wanted him to.

  His mouth moved lower as he dipped his head, licking a path over her collarbone, down between her breasts before catching one nipple between his teeth. He bit down just a little and pleasure bolted through her, pulsing along her nerve endings, heating her body until she felt like she would explode.

  He didn’t touch her with his hands. Just his mouth. He worked her until she moaned long and low and deep in her throat and her nipple practically screamed in ecstasy. Her legs trembled. Her tummy quivered. Goose bumps chased up and down her arms.

  “Now,” she murmured, but he didn’t give in to her demand.

  He seized the other nipple and delivered the same delicious torture. She grew wetter, hotter, her body shivering with each movement of his mouth. Heat clawed at her and lust beat at her senses.

  And then his mouth was on hers again, his hot fingers rolling and plucking her damp nipples. She felt the sharpness of his fangs against her lips, and the sensation sent a shiver of excitement through her. He clamped down on her bottom lip just a little and she tasted the salty sweetness.

  The growl that vibrated up his throat sent an echoing shiver through her body and she knew he was feeling the same pleasure she felt.

  He urged her legs up on either side of him, pulling her flush against his crotch, his hands trailing down her bare back, stirring every nerve ending along the way. He rubbed her against the massive erection straining beneath his zipper and the friction sent delicious waves of heat through her.

  Suddenly she couldn’t get close enough. She grasped his shoulders and clawed at his shoulders. His erection rubbed against her slit and she moaned. She couldn’t get enough of him, kissing him with all of the passion that she’d held back for so long.

  She needed more. Now. Please.

  His hand slid between them and played the slick flesh. His thumb grazed her clitoris, rasping back and forth, over and over. She bucked and arched as delicious tremors racked her body and she exploded in his arms.

  She was so lost in the throes of her orgasm that she didn’t even notice that he’d laid her down until she felt the soft mattress at her back.

  She glanced up in time to see him unfasten his jeans. He shoved the denim down in one smooth motion, his erection springing forward, huge and hot. A white drop of pearly liquid glistened on the tip and she leaned forward, catching the drop with her tongue before sucking him in, greedy for more.

  He groaned, long and low and deep, his fingers catching her hair and holding her to him as she sucked and licked and tasted.

  “Not yet,” he finally murmured. “I want to feel you all around me when I come.” He pushed her back onto the mattress and followed her down. Urging her legs apart, he settled his erection flush against her sex.

  He kissed her then, licking her lips and sucking at her tongue before he caught her legs and bent her knees just enough to open her wider. He slid his hands beneath her bottom to tilt her just so and with one powerful thrust, he slid deep inside her.

  She closed her eyes to the rush of pleasure.

  “Look at me, Holly,” he murmured and her eyelids fluttered open. “I need you to look at me.” To want me.

  He didn’t say the words, but she heard them anyway because they were connected on a level that went much deeper than anything she’d ever experienced.

  This was what she’d dreamt of. This meeting of the minds. Of the souls.

  Hunger blazed hot and intense in his gaze and while she knew he’d looked at every other woman in his past the exact same way, for some reason it felt different. She felt different.

  “You are different.” His fangs glittered in the moonlight as he poised above her.

  He didn’t move a muscle for a long moment and she knew he was waiting on her. Giving her one last chance to refuse him. She was the one woman who could. Because as much as he wanted her, he couldn’t make her want him back.

  He’d admitted as much and the knowledge sent a rush of empowerment through her. She’d spent her entire life looking for that special someone, wanting to be that special someone.

  And at that moment, she was.

  She tilted her head, baring her neck, offering it to him. Not because it was what he wanted, but because she wanted it. She wanted to connect to him, fully and completely. She wanted to take all that he offered and give everything she had in return, not because it gave her some payoff in the future, but because she wanted him now. Right here. Right now.

  Regardless of what happened later.

  He dipped his head. His mouth closed over the side of her neck where her pulse beat a frantic rhythm. He laved the spot with his tongue, stroking and tantalizing before he sank his fangs deep. So deliciously deep.

  True to his word, it didn’t hurt. Rather, she felt only a slight prickle, followed by a rush of intense pleasure that made her gasp.

  He thrust into her, pushing deep with his body, all the while sucking with his mouth. He drove her mindless, pushing and sucking, giving and taking, in a frantic rhythm that pulled the air from her lungs.

  The pressure inside of her built, climbing higher until she couldn’t take anymore. This was it. He was it. Now!

  She cried out, bursting into a thousand pieces.

  He quickly followed her over the edge, his entire body tensing, vibrating. He trembled, drinking in her blood the same way he drank in the sexual energy that rushed from her body.

  His mouth eased and he leaned back. A fierce groan rumbled from his lips as he thrust one final time and she felt the spurt of warmth deep inside.

  His body shook with the force of his climax, then he slumped on top of her, his face buried in the crook of her neck.

  A few frantic heartbeats later, he rolled onto his back and fit her firmly against the side of his body. He held her close, as if he feared she might slip away from him.

  He didn’t have to worry. She could barely move. She felt weightless, floating, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. And while she knew that wasn’t true and she would have to open her eyes soon, right now the only thing she wanted to do was stay right here in his arms.

  She rested her head on his shoulder and drank in several deep breaths of air. A tiny trickle of warmth slid down her collarbone and she reached up. Her fingertips brushed the two tiny pinpoints where he’d bitten her and a sharp burst of heat sizzled through her. She jumped.

  She was surprised. Startled. And turned on.

  “Easy, sugar.” His hand came up to soothe the area. Not that it worked. It only served to stir her up even more. Her nipples pebbled and her thighs clenched. She closed her eyes as warmth bubbled between her legs and sizzled through her. She felt his smile even before she saw it. “I told you it would make you forget about the ankle.”

  “What ankle?”

  His warm chuckle vibrated along her nerve endings as he slid his hand down the length of her body, stroking, soothing, lulling.

  She snuggled deeper into his embrace, rested her head in the crook of his neck and went to sleep.

  TRAVIS LISTENED TO her deep, steady breaths, relishing the sound until the shadows outside the window seemed to shift and the veil of blackness lifted just enough to tell him that it was close to dawn.

  He pulled her arms from around his neck and slipped from the bed, careful not to disturb her. He pulled on his jeans and T-shirt and then reached for his boots. Snatching up his hat, he ploppe
d it onto his head and turned back to survey the woman stretched out on the bed. He tucked the blanket up around her, his hands lingering at her hair for a long moment, relishing the silkiness.

  She was so damned beautiful. And stubborn, he reminded himself. He hated that about her. And loved it.

  Love?

  Hell, no. He didn’t love her. Sure, he liked her a lot. A helluva lot. Unlike most women he came into contact with, he’d taken the time to get to know her. He knew that she had two left feet, that she liked pink and that she loved her job. He knew she liked fireworks, that she ate ice cream when she got stressed, she used strawberries and cream shampoo and that she loved her aunt more than anything in the world. She was determined and loyal and strong, and he liked it. He liked all of it.

  Still, the foundation of their attraction was still based on lust. That’s what had pulled him to her in the first place, what had made him agree to her plan. He’d wanted her body and her blood. And now he’d had both.

  That meant it was time to walk away for good this time.

  He gave her one last lingering glance and then he turned and left.

  21

  “I REALLY THINK you should wear your hair down.” Wanda Lancaster added yet another swipe of red lipstick to her lips as she eyed her daughter in the mirror. “It looks lots better, sweetie.”

  “That’s much better, Momma,” Darla corrected, “and I already told you, I like it up. It looks more sophisticated. All the major brides are wearing their hair like this.” She indicated the bridal magazine sitting open on the table not far away, the model on the cover showcasing an expertly coiffed updo. She cast another glance at her mother. “Do you have to wear so much red lipstick? That went out ages ago. Try some lipgloss.”

  “I like red lipstick and I’m wearing red lipstick,” Wanda insisted. “That’s what you need.” She held out the tube to Shelly who stood in a floor-length silver and black dress, white gloves to her elbows. Her hair was pulled up just like Darla’s and she looked as if she was nursing a major migraine. “You need some color. You’re pale.”

  Darla touched her own updo. “That’s because these bobby pins feel like they’re piercing my brain.” She waved away the tube. “That stuff gives me the hives.”

  The hustle and bustle went on for several more minutes as Darla checked over everyone’s dresses, flowers, hair and make-up while Holly went over her checklist with Evan.

  “I think we’re just about ready,” she told her bride.

  “That’s right, pigskin. Ten minutes and you’re getting married.”

  “Mom, please don’t call me that. I hate that name.”

  “But I thought you liked pork rinds.”

  “About a hundred years ago. And while I liked to eat them, I don’t appreciate you calling me that name.”

  Wanda shrugged. “I think it’s sorta cute.”

  “That’s sort of, Momma. There’s no such word as sorta.” The door opened then and an older woman in her fifties waltzed in wearing a floor-length blue sapphire suit with rhinestone buttons. Her expertly colored blond hair was done up in the latest style, her make-up immaculate.

  “There she is,” she declared, a wide smile on her face. “My soon-to-be daughter-in-law.”

  Darla smiled, but Holly didn’t miss the flicker of apprehension in her eyes.

  “Well come here and let me look at you.”

  Darla stepped forward and the woman took her hands. “Why, you look lovely. My son is a lucky young man. You’ve got such beautiful skin. And that hair…” Her smile faltered just a little as she took in the hairstyle.

  “What is it?” Darla blurted. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just didn’t realize that you were going to wear your hair up.”

  “I thought it would be more flattering to the veil.”

  “She always did like wearing ponytails,” Wanda offered. “Why, we would have called her ponytail if it wasn’t for the fact that she was always munching on all those pork rinds.”

  “Not now, Momma,” Darla whispered. “You really don’t like it?”

  “It’s fine, dear. I just think it would be more flattering down. That’s all. It’s your choice.” She waved it off and turned. “I’d better get out there. I’ve got a handsome young usher waiting to walk me down the aisle.”

  “Me, too,” Wanda said, heading for the door. “See you out there, sugar.”

  “I’m sending the maid of honor out,” Holly said into her headset. “Get the rest of the bridesmaids ready.”

  “10-4,” Evan said.

  Holly motioned to Shelly and sent her out the door and then she turned to Darla. “Are you ready?”

  “What do you think about my hair?” the bride asked her pointedly.

  Holly saw the indecision, the uncertainty, the fear and her heart went out to Darla, regardless of what a bee-yotch she’d been lately. She knew what it was like to want something so badly that she would do anything to get it. Even convince herself she was marrying the right man.

  She also knew what it was like to want something so badly that she would convince herself she was turning her back on the wrong man.

  But Travis wasn’t wrong for her. He was so right that it made her teeth ache. Not that it mattered. He obviously didn’t feel the same way. He’d left before dawn on Friday morning and she hadn’t seen him since. She’d spent the entire day listening to Tootie talk about Buck Gentry and how he wasn’t such a bad fellow after all, on account of he’d turned her on to Bingo. Heck, she might even like him a little. Not that it was any reason to get excited. It wasn’t like she was going to marry him.

  At least that’s what she’d said, but Holly had seen too many brides over the past few years to believe her aunt. She had the same anxious light in her eyes. And while she would never have thought it in a million years, she was starting to think that even Aunt Tootie might take the leap and head to the altar.

  It was now Saturday evening and Travis would be leaving in a matter of hours. She’d heard from one of the hairdressers that Cody and Miranda were arriving at seven tonight. Travis would get his chance to talk to his brother, and then he would leave.

  “So?” Darla pressed.

  “I think it doesn’t matter what I think. It matters what you think.” As she said the words, realization dawned. Travis might be all wrong, but when she was with him, he made her feel right. He was right.

  Not that she was telling him. She’d rather spare herself the embarrassment.

  Darla turned and stared in the mirror. For a split-second, Holly thought she would actually leave her hair as is. But then she started yanking bobby pins until her hair hung around her shoulders. She shook out the curls, worked at the veil for a split-second and then she turned. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  “Bride walking,” Holly murmured as Darla hauled open the door and headed down the hallway.

  Darla refused to listen to her heart and Holly didn’t blame her. She would be giving up so much. Comfort. Safety. Her future.

  It wasn’t about embarrassment for Holly. She was scared. Scared of the way Travis made her feel. Scared of what might happen tomorrow. Scared that it wouldn’t be the comfortable little future she’d mapped out for herself.

  That’s why she refused to take the initiative and call him. Take a chance.

  “I can’t do this,” Darla’s voice pushed into her thoughts and she saw her bride standing in the entryway outside the main ceremony area. “I don’t want to do this. I like Tom, but I don’t love him.” The minute she said the words, a weight seemed to lift from her expression. Panic quickly followed.

  “What do I do?”

  “Go find him. I’ll take care of everything else.” Holly sent Darla off to the holding area for the groomsmen and then she told Evan what was happening. “Explain it to the parents and then let everyone else know,” she told him as she pulled off her headset and handed it to him.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I need to talk to
someone.” And then she went to find Travis.

  It was time she took her own chance, no matter what the future held.

  “WE’RE ALL HERE,” Travis said, motioning around the dining room table where all the Braddock brothers gathered for the first time since that fateful night. While they were all called back to the place of their turning every year on the anniversary, it was different. They’d been spread out at the ranch, one on one side, another over here, another over there. Together, yet alone. But they were all here now.

  Colton, the oldest, sat next to Travis looking as somber and as quiet as ever. He’d walked in a half hour ago just before Cody arrived home. He hadn’t said much. He didn’t have to. His eyes said it all. They glittered with an anger that Travis had never seen before. Colton was hurt. Betrayed. And even God wouldn’t be able to help the woman responsible once he caught up with her.

  Brent and Cody sat on the other side of the table. Miranda sat next to Cody, her hand in his while Brent sat with his arm around Abby. And despite the subject matter, they didn’t look half as tense as Travis felt. Rather, they seemed relaxed. Happy. Loved.

  A pang of envy shot through Travis and he couldn’t stifle the thought that maybe he was wrong. Maybe he could have the same happiness with Holly if he just gave it a chance.

  He’d been so damned convinced that the lust would drive him straight into the arms of another woman, but he wasn’t so sure anymore. It had been twenty-four hours and he still couldn’t stop thinking about her. He’d spent all night working with the wild black mare and he’d managed to break her. But all the work hadn’t been enough to distract him from thoughts of Holly. She was under his skin. In his head. In his heart.

  He hadn’t wanted to believe it, but seeing his brothers, seeing how happy they were, suddenly he wanted it. He wanted it more than anything.

  Even more than the revenge he’d been so deadset on for so many years.

  Not that Holly wanted him. She hadn’t made a move to contact him any more than he’d tried to contact her. She wouldn’t. She’d taken her Love Buster vow. And while she’d fallen off the wagon, she would climb right back on. She was a stubborn thing. Too stubborn for her own good.