I laughed but inside jealousy tore through me. If Brady saw Carrie he’d be all over her. She was beautiful where I was just a frumpy photographer. Carrie was one of those women I could see showing up to the gym with designer workout clothes and would look perfect even after she was done. Hell, she probably didn’t even sweat.
I shook my head at myself. Brady was intent on making me understand he wanted me. If he did want Carrie, I’d accept it and move on. I knew eventually he would go for someone else. Sure, I hoped it wouldn’t be one of my friends, but in the end I wouldn’t be with Brady.
The conversation continued about men’s bodies and what everyone liked about them, but I didn’t have the energy to contribute. I kept flashing back to our date the night before. The desire I saw in his eyes and the way he spoke to me made me believe what he said about me, to me. But hearing Carrie joke about wanting him reminded me of how many women would be after a man like Brady. I was a fool if I thought I could hang on to him.
Of course I still didn’t know much about him. The most open he’d been was when he told me about Lucky, but even then he didn’t reveal anything about himself. Unfairly, when he looked at me I felt like he could see all the way through me to my soul. The parts that I kept hidden from everyone else.
And it made me want to run from him. Almost as much as it made me want him.
Twelve
Brady called me every day, but we didn’t see each other again for over a week. I joined Dave’s Gym and was going three or four days each week, and Brady caught up with me at the end of one of my workouts.
“Come with me?” he whispered in my ear, scaring me. I hadn’t seen him approach me and the voice right behind me made my heart pound in fear.
When I spun and saw Brady my heart managed to calm down, but he saw through my panic. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snuck up on you. I hate it when people do that to me.”
“It’s okay, I just didn’t expect it is all. What’s up?”
“Come with me. You’ll see.”
I let him take my hand and lead me down the hallway to his office again. He closed the door behind us and flipped the lock the same time he pressed me against it. His mouth closed over mine as his hands wrapped around my waist.
He kissed me urgently with a force I hadn’t seen much from him. His tongue pushed between my lips, not giving me the chance to let him in. His large body made me feel small beneath him. I inhaled deeply to catch his scent but only got mine. Embarrassed of how badly I smelled I pushed him off.
“God, I smell horrible. I know you don’t want to kiss me when I stink this bad.”
He chuckled softly. “I actually don’t have a very good sense of smell. After the third time my nose got broken I sort of stopped being able to smell much of anything.”
“Jeez, you had a rough childhood. How did you break your nose three times?” I teased.
Brady closed up faster than a clam. He turned away from me and mumbled something about being a stupid kid, but I could tell there was more to it than that. And that, again, he didn’t want to talk about it. He was becoming more and more of a mystery to me.
“I didn’t mean to say something wrong,” I said, prying without trying to make it obvious I was fishing for information. Between Brady’s intense looks and the scars on his body, not to mention the broken nose, I knew something had happened to him. My gut twisted at the thought of what it could have been, but I didn’t want to go there.
“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have dragged you back here. I’ve just missed you. It kills me that you’re so close all the time and I can’t touch you or kiss you. Today it got to me and I couldn’t let you walk out the doors again without getting you alone.”
I stretched up onto my toes and kissed his jaw, letting my tongue run down the scar on his chin. He twitched before his hands reached around to cup my ass. He pulled me tight against him, his erection separating us, then brought his lips down over mine again.
His lips were soft but urgent, asking me for permission I was desperate to give. I slid my tongue out to meet his, a conversation we could only have without words. I ached for him, but I knew he wasn’t ready. He’d only ever touched my ass and my waist, never anything else. And after kisses that left me feeling like I’d been hit by a meteor, I wanted more.
I didn’t want to rush him, but the feel of him hard against my stomach made my body do things I had no control over. As my back arched to rub myself against him, my hands coaxed him closer. A moan slipped past my lips and I felt Brady’s control drift.
One hand moved from my ass up my side, over my hip, and continued north. When he got to the edge of my breast, still encased in my heavy-duty sports bra, he paused. With his control firmly back in place I let out a sigh of disappointment. I didn’t want to rush him, but I also didn’t want to check into a convent any time soon.
Brady pulled back from our kiss, leaving me breathless and swirling with frustration. He looked down at me, his eyes blazing with the fire I felt shooting throughout my body. “Can I touch you, Sam?” he asked with a gentleness I didn’t expect.
“Dear, God, please,” I begged, letting him know how badly I wanted him.
“You’ll stop me if it’s too much?”
“Brady, I’m wound so tight right now nothing could be too much,” I answered honestly. I’d been taking care of myself, sure, but there was no substitute for an old-fashioned man-made orgasm. And it’d been way too long since I’d had one of those.
Cade, the fucker, was never big on making it worth my while. He always finished before it got good for me. Of course, I understood why after we broke up, but it didn’t change the fact that I was desperate for a little attention down there.
Brady’s large hands danced under the edge of my t-shirt, his fingers brushing the bare skin on my sides. My middle was my biggest part so I was insanely self-conscious about him touching me there.
Even more since Cade.
Brady’s eyes held mine, searching for signs that I wanted him to stop. I silently urged him on and sighed happily when his hands slid up. My shirt drifted with them and I tried to tug it down so he wouldn’t see me. He stopped.
“What’s wrong?” Brady asked, his hands wrapped around my ribcage.
“Nothing. I just don’t want you to see me. Naked, I mean.”
“I thought you said I could touch you?” he asked, confused.
“Yeah, but touch is different from sight. I just… I don’t like how I look without clothes on. I know you won’t like it either.”
I ducked my head as I said the last part. Brady and I had been having fun, but that was all about to end. He would be horrified by my body and likely run away screaming. I’d been dreading letting him see me. Going slow seemed like the perfect solution, until I realized he’d eventually have to see me naked.
With the moment staring me in the face I wasn’t too thrilled with my plan.
I couldn’t look up into Brady’s eyes, but I felt them on me. I squeezed mine shut to block the pain and tears that were both welling up. Brady’s hands dropped from my ribcage and I knew it was done. Over. Finished.
Then with a whoosh my shirt was gone. It caught on my glasses for a second, rendering me blind, then dropped behind me. I opened my eyes in shock and found Brady looking at me, rolls and all.
I covered my face with my hands and tried to turn away so I wouldn’t see the disgust in his eyes. Brady wasn’t like the others. The men I’d slept with just because I was lonely. He wasn’t someone that I’d jump into a relationship with and figure out if I liked him later. Brady was different. He was someone I liked from the start, even before I really knew him. He intimidated me, but he also intrigued me.
And when I opened my eyes I knew it was going to be over.
“Look at me, Sam.”
I shook my head.
“Sam, please open your eyes.”
I peeked through one eye and found Brady standing in front of me with his shirt off. I opened both of my eyes and looked at him. Cov
ered in pink lines, some darker than others, of scars.
“Brady, what happened to you?” I asked with tears forming in my eyes. The pain his body showed was heart breaking. I wanted to know what he’d been through, and at the same time I didn’t want to know. I had fears, but I didn’t want them confirmed.
“I never take my shirt off, Sam. I don’t want anyone to see this. We both hide beneath our clothes. For different reasons. I’ve never shown anyone what I look like. I always insisted the lights were off before I took off my shirt. You are beautiful without your shirt. I am not.”
My heart split wide open as his words sunk in. How did he not realize how stunning he was. The scars told the story of his pain, but also the story of his strength.
My eyes scanned his body, cataloguing every mark on him. Some were long and thin, others were shorter and wider. Some of his scars were jagged while others were smooth. No two were alike, but I knew they’d all come from the same thing.
“I’m sorry you went through this, Brady. But you’re wrong. You are beautiful. Every last inch of you,” I told him as I kissed his scars. I started with his shoulder and worked my way over his body, kissing each one of his scars. His breath grew shallow and his hands clenched at his sides while I worked across his body. When I brushed my lips over the last one, a curving scar that started at his hip and dipped below his waistband, Brady hauled me against him.
His tongue thrust into my mouth and we kissed as though he was a military hero home on leave. Skin touched skin, lips touched lips, souls touched souls. When Brady’s hand cupped my breast I nearly lost it. My body arched into his touch, eager for more. His fingers brushed over my nipple, making it harden to a painful point under the unforgiving fabric of my sports bra.
Brady shoved my bra up, exposing my breasts in the cool air conditioned office. He broke our kiss and looked down at me. “Dear God, you’re beautiful,” he said with reverence. His hands overflowed with my flesh and his mouth dipped to help, one nipple disappearing between his soft pink lips.
I moaned and rocked against him, the warm, wet feel of his tongue mimicked between my legs. I wanted him there, everywhere. He tortured my neglected flesh with his tongue and his fingers, bringing me closer and closer to an orgasm with each movement. I began to wonder if I could come just from him touching my nipples when I felt a deep tingling heat between my legs.
“Oh, fuck, Brady,” I moaned, urging him on.
Sensing what I needed, Brady lifted me, drew my legs around his waist, and leaned my back against the wall. With my body supported his attention returned to my nipples, and the pleasure that was ricocheting through me. With one flick and another nip, then a twist, and a pinch, I rocked hard against him. He met me stroke for stroke, the thin fabric of our clothes only dulling the sensation slightly.
Before long I felt the familiar tightening of my body. My head dropped back, hitting the wall, but I didn’t care. I arched against him harder, my thighs doing more work than they’d ever done to leverage me onto him. His teeth closed around my nipples as he brought them together, both in his mouth at the same time.
And my body let go. I called out his name on a prayer, praising him for making me feel so good. He swallowed my repeated words with a devouring kiss, his hips still rocking into me and his tongue matching the rhythm.
When I went limp in his arms, a wet noodle unable to stay upright, Brady dropped to the floor with me. He cradled me against his chest and held me. My strength began to return and my breathing began to slow, but I noticed he was gulping down air like he couldn’t get enough.
My first thought was I’d worn him out. He shouldn’t have been holding me up so long. I’d nearly killed him with my fat ass.
I tried to get off him so he could breathe more easily, but he held on tight to me. “Don’t go. Not yet,” he begged.
“I’m too heavy for you. You can’t breathe.”
“It’s not because of you,” he spurted, barely getting the words out. “Please. Stay.”
I maneuvered myself so I was sitting on the floor but didn’t wiggle out of his arms. I pressed my head to his chest and listened to his heart pound against my ear. Absently I ran my fingers over his exposed chest. The thickly ridged muscles jumped at my touch. My hand drifted lower and his happy trail tickled my fingers. I had an insatiable urge to keep going lower, but his breath grew more ragged so I shifted away.
Brady’s arms held me close, not letting me get away. I forced myself to be still and wait for him to calm down. His breathing finally slowed and returned to normal and his arms loosened around me.
“Are you okay?”
“I think you’re going to kill me,” he said, still breathless, but better.
“I told you I was too heavy.”
He shook his head and kissed my hair, inhaling deeply. “Nowhere near too heavy. Perfect. Beautiful. That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I stopped breathing when I was watching you. By the time I realized it I was hyperventilating. I’m sorry.”
“You scared the hell out of me.”
He laughed softly. “Now you know how I feel every time I see you.”
I turned in his lap and pressed against him, delighting in the feel of his smooth skin against my nipples. My panties were soaked through, and I smelled like an old gym sock, but my man made me forget all that. His hands rested low on my back and held me tight. I kissed him, softly to make sure he didn’t relapse. My tongue danced across his lips and he opened for me on a sigh.
His tongue was soft and warm in my mouth. It was a lazy kiss, one to learn each other. Our tongues caressed with the same lack of urgency that our hands did. And even with the easy feel of it, my body was heating up all over again.
Before we got too out of hand I pulled back from Brady. His eyes were hazy with desire, and he looked confused. “I know we’re not ready for more than this. I’d love to return the favor though,” I offered seductively.
Brady smiled and pulled me in for another kiss. With our lips still touching he whispered, “Not ready. If I can’t even breathe around you I’m not ready for more. Although I’d love to go there.”
I nodded and got up. With his eyes on me I fixed my sports bra and reached for my shirt. Once I was dressed again I handed Brady his shirt and sighed as he pulled it back on.
“You give me six pack amnesia,” I told him as he stood up.
“What’s that?”
“It’s where I forget all the reasons I should be staying away from you when your shirt is off. Or in your case, whenever I see you.”
Brady narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side. “Why should you be staying away from me?”
Damn. I wasn’t supposed to tell him that. Quick, brain, come up with something. “Oh, just… because you said you wanted to take things slow. I don’t want to rush you.”
Phew, that worked. I hoped.
“Okay,” Brady said in a voice that told me he didn’t really believe me. “Well, thanks for going slow. I don’t want to hurt you.”
I nodded knowing it was inevitable. Brady was the kind of guy who could crush a woman’s heart and a man’s arm without breaking a sweat. Probably all before breakfast. Brady Wright was trouble. And I was thick in it.
Thirteen
My mom called that evening as I was having dinner, alone. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hello Samantha. How are you?”
Oh great, it was the throw her off so I can ambush her later tactic. I hated this one because I always fell for it.
“I’m good, Mom. It’s been a good day,” I blushed. She wouldn’t be getting the details of my rendezvous with Brady, but I wouldn’t lie.
“That’s good to hear sweetheart. I worry about you. All those random people you work with. It would be so easy for someone to take advantage of you.”
“Mmm hmm,” I mumbled. It was an argument I’d heard plenty over the years. A friend of a friend had a cousin whose daughter said she heard about a photographer who was attacked when doing a photo
shoot for someone. I needed to be more careful.
It was ridiculous, but it was Mom.
“Have you looked through the websites I sent you? Doris’s daughter met someone on one of those online dating things and said it was great. She dated a bunch of men and then married the one she liked the best.”
I rolled my eyes. If she wasn’t trying to change my career she was trying to marry me off. Being single at 29 was an insult to her, not a testament to me. Not that I didn’t want to get married, but I certainly wasn’t going to end up with someone like Cade. Or Blaine.
“I read the email, Mom, but I’m not signing up for online dating. I get plenty of dates on my own.”
“Now, really Samantha, I thought you wouldn’t lie to me about something like that.”
I scoffed, borderline pissed that she would intimate that I couldn’t get a date. “I’m not lying. I’m seeing someone now.”
“You are? I didn’t know that,” she said, sounding like the cat that ate the canary.
Damn. The trap. I’d walked right into it.
“Well, you should bring him out to the house for July 4th. We’ll have a cookout and Dad got sparklers for the kids. We’re going to watch the fireworks too, of course.”
I hesitated. I loved July 4th. It was inexplicably one of my favorite holidays. My family always got together and for some reason it was a peaceful holiday instead of one filled with drama. There was something about celebrating where we’d come from and the people who’d made it possible that we all loved.
And my mom knew how much it meant to me.
“Don’t try to tell me you have to work because I know you never work on the 4th. Now what is your new friend’s name?”
“Brady Wright,” I confessed, knowing I had no choice.
“Okay, well, then, we’ll see you and Brady around three. Please bring a salad to share. Bye.”
I was dismissed. Mom hung up before I had a chance to argue. Brady might have plans. Maybe he was visiting with his family or didn’t like the 4th. Maybe he wasn’t ready to meet my family. We’d only been dating for a couple weeks. We’d had our share of heavy kissing sessions, but hadn’t gone any further than that before that afternoon. And Brady said he wasn’t ready for more.
Fat & Fine Page 10
