by Abby Niles
Princess appeared from around a corner and pranced toward them. Scarlett let out a happy squeal. “Oh my God, she’s so fluffy.”
Except maybe his cat.
Scarlett spun on him with a bright smile. “I knew you’d gotten a Persian, I just couldn’t believe it. She’s beautiful.”
“I’d taken Ellie to the pet store to see the animals.”
“Ellie’s your niece, right?”
“Yep. We were supposed to only see the animals. Instead, I came home with this white ball of fur named—just a bit embarrassingly, I’ll admit—by said niece.”
“I think it’s sweet. Not many uncles would do that, Brody.”
“I have a special bond with that child. She was the first baby. I’d spent a lot of time with only her before Savannah had the twins, and they are just now toddling around. It will get really interesting when they get a little older.”
Scarlett bent down and picked up Princess, cradling the cat against her chest. She scratched the animal behind the ears. Loud purrs followed.
“She’s spoiled rotten,” he added with a chuckle.
“I’ve always wanted a cat,” she murmured as she nuzzled the top of Princess’s head with her nose.
“I didn’t know that. Why haven’t you got one?”
A faraway look came to her eyes, then she forced a small smile. “Ryan was allergic.”
He wasn’t sure if Scarlett was having a momentary lapse of memory or what. But Ryan had been his best friend—that man was no more allergic to cats than he was the air he breathed. But whatever her real reasoning was, she didn’t seem ready to share it.
He changed the subject. “Would you like glass of wine?”
He’d specifically bought her favorite merlot this afternoon after leaving Mike’s. His smile faded at the passing thought of his new coach. He scrubbed the back of his head.
No heaviness tonight. There would be more than enough time later for him to do his worrying. Mike putting him on a trial run didn’t sit well with him. It only added to his own troubled thoughts about where his career was headed.
Scarlett strolled into the living room and sat down with Princess on the couch, cooing, “What a sweet kitty,” to the cat.
Enough. He had a woman’s insecurities to banish. Those were more important than his at the moment.
After he’d poured them both a glass of wine, he strode to Scarlett, handed her one, then sat down beside her.
Tension immediately stiffened her body as she took a sip from her glass, looking at anything and everything but him.
He could approach this one of two ways. He could simply jump her, get down and dirty, and wipe away her doubt by making her so aroused she couldn’t think about anything other than what he was doing to her. Or he could push her outside her comfort zone again and make her face her demons head on.
As much as he loved the idea of driving her out of her mind with his hands, he wanted her to embrace her sexuality more. Which meant they were going to do this slow, but hard—at least, for her.
“How about a game?” he asked.
Her gaze shot to his. “What kind of game?”
There was hesitation in her voice. Man, she was really going to get freaked out. All the more reason to do it. She needed that push. “Truth or Dare. Sex Edition.”
Her mouth popped open in the cutest expression of surprise. He wanted to kiss her, but he refrained. She wanted an adult relationship. Now it was time to get very adult with her.
“O-okay,” she stammered.
Pride expanded his chest. She hadn’t tried to back out. Though she was definitely timid with the idea, she was pushing that aside to try new things.
“I’ll go first,” he said, not wanting to put her on the spot with the first question. “Truth or Dare?”
“Truth,” she said without a moment of hesitation and then downed her glass of wine.
So, she thought truth would be easier than dare? She was wrong.
“What’s your favorite position to fuck?” When she started blinking rapidly, he took her glass and went back into the kitchen to refill it, giving her a moment to get her embarrassment under control without him staring at her.
When he walked back into the living room, she locked eyes with him as she said, “Doggie style.”
Instantly, an image of her on all fours with him behind her formed in his mind, and his cock stirred. “Why?” There was no denying the husky edge to that one word, and he didn’t care one bit.
But she didn’t seem to notice, and shook her head. “One question. One answer. My turn. Truth or dare?”
His lips kicked up. He loved that she was jumping into this. “Truth.”
“What do you like having done to you?” she asked, as if she’d had the question prepared for days.
Good question. He sat down beside her and laid his arm across the back of the couch. “That’s a given. A blow job.”
Pink brightened her cheeks as her gaze slid from his to her hand still stroking his cat. “Yeah, I guess it was a stupid question.”
Damn it. The last thing he wanted was for her to start doubting herself. Intensifying her insecurities was not the point of this.
“Truth or dare, Scarlett,” he whispered, grazing the tips of his fingers across the back of her neck. She shivered.
“Dare,” she said. He froze, and she turned her head in his direction. “I surprised you with that, didn’t I? I want something good, Brody. Something hot. Something you want me to do.”
His cock rose to half-mast as his mouth went dry. If this was her way of letting him know she was ready for a little more pushing, he was more than happy to oblige.
…
Breath held, Scarlett waited for Brody’s dare. She might have bitten off more than she could chew by being so brazen with her request, but the nerves that had been twisting her stomach, the doubt that was starting to creep in, were really pissing her off. She’d seen that she could get completely lost in the act of sex—things came out of her mouth when she was blinded by her body’s desires.
That was huge. But she wanted to feel confident in her actions, not second-guess every word, every movement. She wanted to blind Brody with desire too.
And the only way she could do that was by taking the bull by the horns and embracing the fact that she was capable of being sensual. It was time to get past the awkward.
“I dare you to dance for me.”
Her lungs squeezed tight. Out of everything Brody could have requested, it never crossed her mind it would involve her most humiliating moment. She could still see her ex clutching his stomach as he doubled over with laughter on the couch. The saddest part was how she’d felt so sexy before his reaction. She had felt sexy the entire time she’d taken that class.
How she had felt was what she needed to embrace, not how Ryan had made her feel.
“Can you give me a few minutes?”
“Sure.”
Grabbing her phone, Scarlett hurried into the bathroom, Princess trotting in after her. First, she had to prepare herself. Not that she had much with her. Just her phone case. As she placed her cell on the counter, she glanced in the long mirror over the dual sinks. Her hair needed some work after being smashed by the helmet, but her makeup was still on its A-game. Now for her outfit. Jeans and a halter top would not do.
“You can do this,” she said to her reflection, as the cat jumped up on the counter and pushed her head into Scarlett’s forearm.
She ran her hand down the feline’s spine, her heart aching. This had been a night of facing a lot of insecurities created from the past. The cat, Brody’s question about it, had been another moment where she’d been briefly swept back to a different time, a harder time. She’d given a piss poor excuse for never getting a cat; Brody had to know Ryan wasn’t allergic. But the excuse had just popped out of her mouth because she couldn’t voice the truth.
After it was clear Ryan would not proceed with any more treatment, she’d mentioned getting a cat. He’d
accused her of wanting to replace a baby with an animal. If they couldn’t have a baby, then they sure as hell weren’t getting a cat. In hindsight, it was just another way for Ryan to punish her—he couldn’t have what he wanted, so she wasn’t going to get what she wanted.
She shook herself. No more past tonight. It had interfered more than she liked. All she needed to focus on right now was Brody and what was going to happen next.
It was time for her to take control of her sensuality.
Before she chickened out, she slipped off her heels then shed her jeans and halter top. The black, crochet lace, cheeky panty and matching push-up bra were more revealing than what she would’ve worn to perform this routine, but she was going for sexy and this was definitely sexy.
After she fluffed her hair, she picked up her phone, scrolled through her playlist, stopping on Christina Aguilera’s song “Express” from the movie Burlesque. She turned down the volume so she could get the tune exactly where she wanted it to start. Once she was happy with it, she paused the song and turned the volume on max.
As she opened the bathroom door, she yelled, “Close your eyes and don’t look until I say so.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She stepped into the living to find Brody had taken a throw blanket and pressed it to his face. Smiling, she hurried into the dining area, grabbed one of the chairs, then positioned it in the middle of the living room with the back of the chair toward Brody.
She climbed up on top of the seat, balanced herself on one foot then crossed her other leg over the other one. She pressed play and dropped her phone on the floor. The sound of snapping fingers filled the room, and she quickly got into the rhythm before saying, “You can look.”
The huge smile on Brody’s face as he removed the throw immediately turned to slack-jawed awe. He pushed up straighter, muttering, “Holy fuck.”
She shifted her position then lowered her crossed leg to the ground, keeping the other bent up on the chair. There was no amusement, just blatant lust in his gaze. The heat made her nipples pucker into tight peaks as she moved off the chair then bent from the waist so her hands were around her ankles.
He growled from behind her, and it was an enthralling sound, giving her the strength, the courage, to proceed with the routine. Not once did he take his eyes off her. Not when she straddled the chair, not when she sensually swayed her hips, shook her breasts, or ran her hands over her body.
He was her captivated private audience, and she had never felt more beautiful than she did in those two minutes.
When the song wound down, she sashayed over to stand in front of him. “Truth or dare, Brody?”
“Dare.” There was no denying the hunger deepening his voice.
“I dare you to make me come.”
As the words passed her lips, a weight lifted from somewhere deep inside her. Over the years, she’d lost her faith in her sexual appeal. Brody had given it back by making her feel true lust for the first time.
He pulled her forward by the hips.
“Nothing would make me happier,” he said, then tugged her onto his lap. His erection pressed into her ass as he leaned her back into his arms and took her lips in a deep kiss. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her panties and found her aching clit. Turned on from the dance and his undivided, heated attention, it only took him seconds to get her off.
She moaned through the pleasure that sent pulsating waves through her. As she slowly drifted back, she lightly pushed Brody against the cushion, then repositioned so she straddled his hips.
Reaching down, she grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head. Defined muscles greeted her—shoulder muscles, pecs, six-pack. They all beckoned, and she could touch anything she wanted.
Placing kisses along his chest, she moved her way down his rock-hard stomach until she knelt between his knees. There was only one place she was concentrating on. One more hurdle she needed to jump. Something she had not done in a long time because she’d felt so inept.
She popped the top button of Brody’s jeans then carefully lowered the zipper over the huge bulge. He lifted his hips so she could tug his boxer briefs and pants down. Bottom lip tucked between her teeth, she inspected the huge, impressive…
Cock, Scarlett. It’s okay to think it…to say it.
The reminder helped, but nerves hit her stomach, threatening to ruin her progress. She would not allow it. Never again. She could and would give a hell of a blow job.
Gently, she wrapped her fingers around him. Brody let out a harsh breath and shifted, but his gaze never strayed from her. He didn’t lean his head back. Didn’t close his eyes and just enjoy. He watched. Intently.
Desire flared through her. Apparently, she liked being watched. Leaning forward, she slowly slid him into her mouth, mindful to use her other hand to cup his balls. An approving grunt came out of him, and she looked up as she bobbed her head in slow, measured movements.
“Goddamn, that’s a fucking gorgeous picture,” he gritted out. As she continued, his lips suddenly pressed tight. “That’s enough.”
He grabbed her under the arms and hauled her up.
“But—”
“Any more and we’re not going to finish this.”
Then, he stood, snatched her around the waist, and flipped her over so she was on her knees on the cushions. Positioned behind her, he walked forward, forcing her to move to the end of the couch until her thighs met the arm. “Stay right there,” he said.
Glancing over her shoulder, she watched him kick off his shoes and shuck his pants off the rest of the way. He reached into the jeans, grabbed his wallet, and withdrew a condom. Quickly, he slid it on and was right back behind her. The warmth of his palm rubbed her ass before he tugged her panties down.
“What do you want, Scarlett?” he asked.
“You,” she said instantly.
“Me to do what?”
Her entire body screamed to have him inside her. “Fuck me. Hard.”
Then he was, stretching her, filling her, and it felt amazing.
“Spread your legs wider.”
She did as he instructed.
“Now rub your clit for me, Scarlett,” he said breathlessly between deep, fast thrusts. “I want to watch you come again.”
She slipped her arm underneath her body. A sharp smack stung her ass cheek and sent shards of pleasure racing through her as his other hand gripped her hip. A moan ripped out of her mouth. “Come for me, baby.”
The sound of their skin slapping together, the crack of his hand occasionally meeting her butt, the sweet pain that felt so good… Her orgasm hit her hard, and she groaned. Brody stiffened behind her with a long, blissful grunt.
Scarlett collapsed over the armrest, trying to get her breath. Never in her life had she experienced something like that. Now knew what she had been missing out on all these years.
Sex could be amazing. As long as it was with the right person.
Chapter Eight
Scarlett’s phone dinged and giddiness immediately had her reaching across the bed to grab the device.
For the past week, Brody had sent her a text at nine on the dot every night. It was crazy how much she looked forward to hearing from him. There was never anything intimate—mostly just a friendly check-in, how was her day type text. She never texted him first, though. She wanted to, but it was one of those things she hesitated on because she wasn’t sure if her contacting him was appropriate, especially since his messages were so short and sweet.
Do you have plans tomorrow night?
A grin sprang to her lips. He wanted to see her.
She wanted to see him. Badly. She hadn’t really been prepared for how their night out would end, which had been with him driving her home in the wee morning hours after they’d had another amazing round of sex. He’d walked her to the door like a gentleman, but he hadn’t kissed her or even mentioned getting together again soon. Nor had he all week.
Unfortunately, that had caused some of the in
security she’d thought she’d dealt with to come roaring back. More than once this week, she’d worried that maybe Brody hadn’t had as much fun as she had. She’d pushed her doubts aside, reminding herself that this was what Brody referred to as an “adult relationship.” They weren’t dating.
But it was hard to understand the rules, which was why she was grateful he at least texted each day.
Not at the moment, she typed.
A few moments later, her phone dinged again.
Good. You’re mine then.
A little thrill went through her. She didn’t know what it was about the possessive undertones of the text that pleased her so much, but being called his definitely made her happy.
A tap sounded on her door.
“Yeah?”
Delaney poked her head in. “I see from the smile, you got your nightly text.”
“And we’re getting together tomorrow night.”
“Oo la la. Going to get some more of that good Brody lovin’?”
Scarlett laughed. “Definitely.”
Delaney stepped inside the room then came to sit on the edge of the bed. “It’s good to see you smiling, Scar.”
She guessed she had been doing a lot of that this week. She’d even caught herself humming the other day.
“It’s good to feel light.”
After dealing with such heavy, depressing emotions for so long, she’d forgotten what it was like to just be. For the first time in a long time, that was exactly what she was doing. No worries about things she couldn’t control. No constant thoughts revolving around about her ugly past. Merely enjoying the anticipation of hearing from Brody, even if it was only a couple of texts a night.
Silence fell between them, then Scarlett asked, “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything, babe.”
“With the type of arrangement I have with Brody, should I be this excited to see or hear from him?”
Delaney crossed her arms and studied her thoughtfully. “Do you want my honest opinion?”
“Always.”
“I’ve never done a casual setup with a friend, Scar. It seems like it could get sticky pretty quickly.”
