Conflagration

by Tessa Teevan

  “What?” he asks, and I grin but shake my head. “Baby, I told you I was going to take care of it. Now, get me a towel so I can clean up. Then go kick my family out and I’ll do the same for you.”

  “As amazing as that sounds, I think they’re in for the long haul. They’re setting up in the kitchen right now,” I tell him when I come back from the bathroom. I try not to watch as he cleans himself up, but my damn wandering eyes can’t help themselves.

  He grins at me. “Want to help?” he asks, lifting up the blanket. I shield my eyes and shake my head, causing him to laugh. “You know, with my bum leg and all, I’m going to need help bathing. You might as well get a look at the goods now. I have a feeling you’ll be seeing a lot of them in the future,” he teases, holding up the comforter again.

  Sighing, I roll my eyes and pretend it’s a completely uninteresting to me. Taking two steps closer, I turn to him and catch his amused grin. “If I must,” I say, allowing my eyes to slowly wander down until they get to that oh-so-succulent V that points an arrow directly to his manhood. And holy shit. What manhood it is.

  He’s still semi hard, having just gotten off. It’s long and thick, a slight golden brown, with what looks like a soft, lickable tip. A large vein runs down the center, and I swear it’s pulsating, almost as if it’s beckoning for me to move in and greet it with my lips. I know I’m staring, but I can’t break my gaze.

  “Baby, you keep staring at my dick like it’s a fucking Popsicle and you’re in the middle of the desert, we’re going to end up like one of those fucking weird-ass Middle Age royalty couples whose families are right outside the doors to listen to them consummate their love.”

  I lick my lips for effect before looking back up at him. “Love?” I tease.

  He just rolls his eyes at me before leaning forward and hooking an arm around my waist. “You know what I mean. Now give me a kiss.”

  “Yes, sir,” I reply as I wrap my arms around his neck and move in, giving him a quick peck before pulling away and out of his arms.

  “Not what I meant, Ariana,” he growls, but I just smile.

  “You’ll get more of that later. For now, we have family to entertain.”

  He falls back against his pillow with a groan. “Fine. Let’s get this fucking over with.”

  AFTER ONE hell of an arousing morning, Ari teases me with a sponge bath, and I struggle to keep my hands to myself. Fortunately, the nurse washed me before I left the hospital yesterday, so it doesn’t take much to get me clean. She changes into a pair of tight jeans and an even tighter T-shirt, and I have to wonder what the hell Mom was thinking when she went shopping for her. And then I remember the multiple hints she’s given over the years about grandkids and shake my head at her antics.

  Ari wheels me into the living room, where Dad and my brothers are sprawled out watching Sports Center. I grin when a pink tint rises on Ari’s cheeks as she avoids eye contact with them. Dad gets up and helps me into the recliner, and she immediately excuses herself to go help the women in the kitchen.

  “You guys wanna tell me what that was about?” I ask even though I can guess why she’s embarrassed. What was it she said about nipples?

  Dad looks just as embarrassed as she did, but both my brothers are grinning. That is until I send a glare in their direction. Cohen straightens up.

  But Knox keeps grinning. “Next time you send your girl to answer the door, big brother, you might want to make sure she’s a little more dressed.”

  I’m just about to take a drink and my arm stops midair. Big brother? I look at him, wondering if I heard things, but the way he’s still smirking at me, I know I heard correctly. My heart tightens and I have to look away so he doesn’t see the way my eyes water for a split second.

  Clearing my throat, I turn back to him, my eyes hopefully conveying nothing. “If I’d known you guys were coming, we could’ve been prepared. Instead, y’all barged in on us while we were still in bed.”

  His grin widens even further. “Oh, we know, Branson. We know.”

  I throw a pillow at him, which he ducks. Dad chimes in. “Knox, leave your brother alone. And Branson, next time, I’ll make sure your mom calls first.”

  I nod my appreciation then lean back in the recliner, reverting my gaze to the television. We watch a few segments in silence, nothing but the noise of the analysts discussing the big game on the television and the women’s chatter and laughter coming from the kitchen. Looking around, I realize that this is the first time in my entire life that my whole family’s been in my house. And quite surprisingly, it feels pretty damn good.

  BECAUSE OF my knee, Mom forgoes the rule of having to do brunch in the dining room and the whole family piles into my living room, eating, laughing, and teasing each other. For the most part, I sit back and watch, taking it all in. It’s almost overwhelming, and I feel as if I’ve been transplanted into a brand-new family.

  Or maybe I’m the transplant. Maybe this is what I’ve been missing out on this whole time. I’ve always been too busy with work, too worried about Megan saying something to offend Mom, or—in this past year—too busy wallowing in my own misery to truly enjoy the way my family’s been put back together. But today? Today’s different, and there’s one common denominator.

  Her.

  In one week’s time, she’s become more of a part of my family than Megan ever was. Her hand’s been resting on my thigh for the duration of the morning, and she’s been an active part of each and every conversation. It’s almost terrifying, the way she fits in so easily, and I can tell that Mom’s half in love with her already.

  Charlie gets my brothers to pick up the dishes, which they do begrudgingly, and I smirk at them until Knox pretends like he’s going to kick my leg. Ari blocks him, and he nearly busts a gut laughing.

  “Just messing around, woman. Calm down. I wouldn’t kick the guy when he’s down. I’ll wait till he’s in tiptop shape to kick his ass.”

  Charlie pushes him out of the room, rolling her eyes behind his back.

  “I saw that, sweetheart,” he says, chuckling.

  When Charlie comes back in, she has a gleam in her eye, her hands held behind her back. “Okay, Ari. I went through this, and so did Andi. Now, it’s your turn.”

  I groan and cover my face with my hand. “Really? Do we have to do this today?”

  “Hey, you’re the one who’s kept her from us. We have to make up for lost time,” Andi chimes in, smiling sweetly at me.

  “What’s going on?” Ari asks, hesitation lacing her voice.

  “A Wellington woman rite of passage, my dear,” Mom says as she holds her hand out to Ariana. “Time to go through photo books of Branson’s childhood. And, since you’re engaged, we brought over Charlie’s wedding planning books. Since she and Knox are getting married next month, she has mostly everything set. We thought you could go through everything else to see if there were any ideas you like.”

  Ari turns towards me, her mouth open wide. Her eyes dart back and forth between mine, almost as if she’s unsure of what she should do. Hell, I don’t even know what to do. Then I catch Dad looking at her strangely, and I plant a smile on my face.

  “You heard the woman. It’s tradition. And who knows? Maybe you’ll see something you like in those books.”

  She pales slightly then leans in close. “You’re going to pay for this, Branson,” she whispers in my ear.

  “I’m banking on it.”

  “I LOVE your family. I really do. But I so am freaking exhausted and it’s not even dark out yet,” Ariana says as she enters the living room after having seen my family out.

  Finally. I’m pretty sure it was the longest Wellington brunch ever, especially once brunch turned into an early dinner thanks to Mom’s insistence that neither Ariana nor I needed to cook. Then again, it was probably the most enjoyable day I’ve had with my family, so I can’t really complain.

  “Come here,” I request, holding my hand out as she passes by.

  She takes it, an
d I reel her in until she’s sitting on the arm of the recliner. When she smiles down at me, I can’t wait another minute to feel her lips on mine. I yank her down until we’re mere inches apart.

  “Kiss me.”

  My ever-compliant woman does so without hesitation. It’s a soft, gentle kiss, and for the time being, I’m content with it.

  She pulls away, her smile wide. “Today was nice.”

  “Today was the best,” I tell her honestly. “You did good, baby.”

  “We both did. It’s so much easier to pretend when you’re not actually pretending,” she quips.

  “About that,” I begin, and she cocks an eyebrow up at me. “I’m ready to finish what we started this morning.”

  She quickly stands up and puts some distance between us. “Umm, maybe we should slow down just a little, get to know each other. You don’t know anything about me.”

  “That’s not entirely true. Yeah, I might not know your favorite color. Your favorite food. Your favorite sexual position,” I tease, and she huffs. “I don’t know what nightmares you had a kid or who your first kiss was—and don’t fucking tell me because I’ll track him down and kick his ass.”

  She rolls her eyes and places her hands on her hips. “Do you have a point here?”

  “My point, baby, is that’s all the little stuff. The bullshit that doesn’t matter. I’ll learn those things over time. What does matter is that I know you’re kind. You’re passionate and caring, and you’re as beautiful on the inside as you are on the out. You didn’t hesitate to help a stranger, and most importantly, you make me feel, Ariana.” I pause as she swallows hard, her eyes locked in on mine. “I’ve been numb for twelve damn years, if not longer. But in one week’s time, you’ve thawed out the block of ice that’s been frozen around my heart. So, no, I don’t need to know the little, menial things. Because what I do know? It’s all I need.”

  Her hand comes up to her heart. I’m not sure if it’s a natural reaction or if she’s trying to process what I’m saying. I don’t mean to be so open, but I find that I can’t keep my feelings inside whenever she’s around. Especially with this. Yeah, we may not win any Newlywed dating game shows just yet, but I know her enough. I just have to get her to see that.

  She takes a step closer, yet she remains out of reach. “I guess that makes perfect sense. And you’re right. I know you, too, Branson. You try to be closed off, but for some reason, you’ve let me in. You act as if nothing bothers you, but one genuine smile from your mom and warmth radiates through you, even if it means shacking up with a stranger.”

  “I’m not exactly suffering here, baby,” I say as memories of her in my bed this morning flash in my mind.

  “And you’re possessive, so much so that you can’t stand for your fake—”

  I growl, and she grimaces.

  “Your temporary fiancée to be wearing another man’s ring. You’re determined. Sexy. And you take what you want. Although I left Atlanta because I didn’t want to be someone’s yes girl, I find myself wanting to give in to your every demand. And to be honest, Branson, it scares the hell out of me.”

  “I’m not him, Ariana. The only time I want you obeying me is in the bedroom. Anywhere else, you use that incredible mind of yours to make your own decisions.”

  She twists her hands together, as if she’s nervous. “I know. I couldn’t have found a more different man, and I’m grateful for it. This is just all so new, so intense, and I don’t know. Maybe, before we jump into bed together, we need to really think about what we want when it’s not in the heat of the moment.”

  I get what she’s saying. I really do. But I have a feeling that it’s always going to be heated when it comes to the two of us, so waiting will only delay the inevitable and give me the worst case of blue balls. No. Waiting is not an option, so I change the direction of this conversation.

  “Ariana, do you know what I do for a living?”

  Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Well, I know you work for your dad’s company. You’re on track to be CEO one day, but as for the overall day-to-day stuff? No, I have no idea. Why?”

  “Mergers. Acquisitions. Take-overs. When there’s something I want, I won’t—hell, I don’t—stop until it’s mine. That’s why I’m the best in the business. I never fail. I always get what I want.”

  She places a hand on her hip and gives me a challenging look. “And if it’s not yours for the taking?”

  God, I love when she tests me. She’s such a fucking paradox. I love her sweet and compliant. I love when she’s bossy and insolent. It’s so contradictory and more than anything I’ve ever wanted in a woman. I can’t get enough.

  “I make an offer you can’t refuse.”

  She moves forward, places her hands on either side of me, and leans in close. “Then I guess we better start negotiating.”

  My dick turns rock solid at her sexy tone, but she pushes off the chair in a flash, giving me one last seductive smile before heading into the kitchen, leaving me alone with nothing but my fucked-up leg and hard-as-stone cock.

  I STEW for a bit, but she doesn’t return. Fuck negotiations. This is going to be a fucking take-over.

  Cautiously, I stand up from the recliner, trying to move as quietly as possible. I test putting my bad leg down and find that there’s no pain as long as I keep most of my weight on the other one. I’m able to shuffle the ten feet to the kitchen.

  When I get there, I see her bent over at the refrigerator. I swiftly cross the room, grimacing at the slight pain from the force of my weight, but I’m behind her in no time. She jumps as my hands grasp her waist, and she tries to turn around, but I won’t allow it. My arm slips around her waist and I pull her back against me until her ass is flush with my erection. Then I reach out and close the refrigerator door.

  “What…what are you doing? You shouldn’t be out of the chair, Branson,” she says in a soft protest.

  “Is that what you want, Ariana?” I whisper, my lips grazing her ear before moving down to kiss along the side of her jaw.

  She swallows hard then nods her head. “Yes. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

  I grin, guessing that maybe she was right. Maybe negotiating is in the cards. With my arm still wrapped around her waist, I spin us around and push her forward until she’s pressed up against the island in the middle of the kitchen.

  “Branson, stop walking on that leg.”

  My hand slides up under her T-shirt, and I start to run small circles over her skin. “Okay, baby. If that’s what you want. For the rest of the night, I’ll obey, but if I agree, then I want something, too.”

  She nods, her breath quickening as my hand travels up her skin until it’s slipping into her bra, where I cup her breast. At the same time, I push my erection into her ass, giving her a hint.

  “I. Want. You.”

  “Oh,” she breathes. “Okay.”

  “Okay? I need more than that. Do you agree to those terms? I’ll be a perfect patient if I can fuck you right here against this counter?”

  She pushes her ass back against me and grinds her hips. I think she’s about to comply when she surprises me. “One week.”

  What? “One week what, baby?”

  “You’re the perfect patient for at least one week after this, Branson, or no deal.”

  She reaches down, and in a flash, her T-shirt’s lying on the floor beside us. Her bra quickly joins. Then her fingers unbutton her jeans and she shimmies them down just enough for me to see that she’s wearing nothing underneath.

  My fucking girl. I inhale at the sight of her naked back and the top of her ass. “I agree to those terms, but if you get one week, I do, too.”

  She lets out a sexy laugh, and I can see her breasts bouncing as I peer over her shoulder. “It’s a deal. In fact, if I didn’t want you inside me right now, I’d continue to negotiate because I figure we’ll be fucking for longer than a week, but I can’t wait any longer. Seal the deal, Branson. Now.”

  I watch wi
th reverence as she takes off her jeans and stands fully naked in front of me, wanting, waiting, and oh-so-fucking willing. She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I push my basketball shorts down until they pool around my ankles.

  “Jesus Christ, you are so fucking sexy,” I growl as I take in the sight of her.

  Stepping back just a bit, I press my hand just above her smooth, round ass and slide it up her spine until it rests between her shoulder blades. I gently push until she’s slightly bent over, her supple breasts pressing against the counter. Then I change my mind because those beautiful nipples can’t go untouched.

  “Lift up, baby. I need to touch you.”

  She does just as I asked. God, I love it. She’s such a contradiction.

  As I position myself behind her, I want to touch every single inch of her naked body. My hands move over her shoulders and down her front until they each cup a breast. I knead each one with ample precision until her nipples harden underneath my touch, showcasing her arousal. Her ass grinds against my dick, which is currently nestled right between each perfectly rounded cheek, and it's taking everything in me not to thrust into her. Even if it's a fuck against the kitchen counter, I want to savor her, to enjoy her, to make her feel everything she's been missing out on with all those other jackasses she's been with.

  My hands move away from her breasts as I explore her body, committing every single feminine curve to memory almost as if I'm the sculptor and she's my work of art come to life. I'm in awe of her body, and I can't get enough. I want worship her, and for a split second, I'm pissed at myself that I’m settling for a quick fuck instead of taking her in the bedroom, where I could make love to her all night long.

  The thought has barely left my mind when my hand slips between her legs, my thumb grazing her clit. She arches her back against me, encouraging me to continue. With my good leg, I nudge her legs apart in order to properly pleasure her cunt. A soft sigh leaves her lips as I slide my finger up and down her pussy, my dick twitching as I feel just how wet and ready she is for me. I lean forward, murmuring in her ear all the things I want to do to her. All things I'm going to do her.