Tame Me

by Natalie Rios

  His lips are on mine, his body pressing me into the shower wall. The kiss is much too brief, with him tearing his lips away without so much as a slip of his tongue. I whimper a bit at the loss, but quickly zip it when his mouth latches onto my nipple. Sucking on the one, his rough palm massaging the other.

  I can’t keep my hands off him. Now that I finally have him naked in front of me, I want to explore every inch of skin. I brush my hands along his sides, then over his stomach and chest, coming to rest on those wide shoulders. Give them each a light squeeze, just so I can feel the hard muscle underneath.

  “I’ve dreamed about these breasts,” he manages to say between those wicked flicks of his tongue.

  My hands creep up to his head, gripping his hair to make sure he understands he should keep on sucking. “Yeah?”

  “Hmm. Imagined how they looked, how they would taste. Perfect, in case you were wondering.” There is no stopping the grin that spreads across my face. I love knowing he’s been fantasizing about me. “Spread your legs.”

  I’m more than happy to oblige, but my eyes widen when he gets down on his knees. Shouldn’t he be standing for this?

  “What are you-” My question dies off on a moan as his finger slowly pushes inside of me. I nearly scalp him when he puts his mouth on me, his wicked tongue methodically swiping over my clit. Using his thumb, he spreads me apart and runs his tongue up my center.

  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

  Closing my eyes, I revel in the heat of his mouth. Loving the way his teeth lightly scrape against my swollen clit. Inhaling sharply when he adds a second finger, rubbing against an extremely sensitive spot. Waves of pleasure building with every thrust of his fingers.

  Oh my god, I’m going to come. Just from fingering. It’s going to be intense and awesome and – The bastard stops. My eyes fly open and a sound of acute displeasure escapes my lips.

  And what does Satan do? He laughs.

  “Why did you stop? Are you trying to give me blue balls?”

  “You don’t have any balls, Charlotte.” Moving back up, he plants a quick kiss on my lips. “You’re going to want to hold onto me.” He cups my ass and lifts me, lowering me onto his cock. And, yup, I need to hold onto him. Wrapping my legs around his waist, heels digging in as he backs me into the shower wall.

  Our movements are slow, much slower and less frantic than any other time we’ve had sex. The friction feels amazing and from this position, I can feel him everywhere. Seriously. From my hair down to my toes. And I don’t even mind the slower pace because I want to hold on to this feeling forever.

  Hot, full, and covered in Brody.

  One hand reaches down, rolling my nipple between his thumb and index finger until my head falls back and hits the wall.

  Brody pauses. “You okay?”

  “Yes,” I sigh. “Just don’t stop.” My hands move to his biceps, tracing the muscles with my fingertips. “I love your body.”

  “Yeah?” I can feel the smile stretching across his face.

  “Hmm. Tone and firm. Better than all those action hero movies.”

  “You are the most captivating woman I’ve ever met.”

  “Captivating? Not crazy?” And I’m only half joking. Crazy is the only ‘c’ word anyone has ever used to describe me.

  “Captivating,” he corrects on a long thrust. “More beautiful than Grace Kelly. Brave and sweet. A live wire I can’t help touching.”

  Holy hell, his words. His skin, his scent. The oh-so-snug way his cock moves deep inside of me. Pure bliss, I tell you.

  I explode. My muscles spasm, tightening around his cock. I’m still shaking when my orgasm finally subsides, clutching onto Brody’s neck.

  He stills for a moment, giving me time catch my breath and gather my bearings while he kisses me. And then he thrusts again, groaning with his own release.

  We were going slow and yet he still manages to leave me breathless.

  I’m shaking when he gingerly lowers my feet down to the floor of the shower. Brain still a little hazy, I watch Brody retrieve a bottle of shampoo, which he gently massages into my scalp.

  Did I expect this joint shower to be a little awkward? Yeah. I’ve never showered with a man and we’ve never even seen each other naked before. A little weirdness is to be expected.

  But there’s nothing awkward about the way we lather each other up with his bar of soap. There’s nothing strange about the way we towel each other off, copping many more feels than is probably necessary. Heck, I don’t even mind standing naked in front of him, each of us ogling the other while we get dressed.

  “We didn’t use a condom. Is that going to be a problem?” he quietly asks. Fuck. I suck in a breath, trying very hard not to panic, but something in my expression must give me away. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Don’t worry about it? How can I not worry about it?!

  Again, he reads me perfectly. “If something happens, we’ll work through it. Together. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I whisper. And I do feel okay. About a possible unplanned pregnancy, of all things. I don’t know what it is about this man, but I feel safe with him.

  “Go get comfortable on the couch and I’ll get us something to eat.”

  You don’t have to tell me twice.

  Just like most bachelors, Brody has a ginormous TV mounted on the wall across from his couch. I’m debating whether or not getting comfortable includes turning on the TV and browsing through his Netflix (you know, for research purposes), when he returns with a bowl of vanilla ice cream completely covered in hot fudge.

  “A man after my own heart. Aren’t you going to have any?” I wink, grabbing the bowl and digging in.

  “Is it okay to ask how dinner went tonight?”

  Ugh. The one thing that could possibly break the spell. But perhaps I can use this as an opportunity to learn more about him without having to spy on his Netflix account.

  “Only if I can ask you a serious question after.” A grunt followed by a small nod serves as his assent. “Awful, actually. We got into a huge argument about Liz – his sister, my friend. Eddie’s always looking for a reason to bash her and I don’t understand why. Then he invited me up to his room so he could give me his surprise present. Relax,” I add when he scowls. “I didn’t actually go inside. And the surprise wasn’t his dick.”

  “I should hope not,” Brody snarls. I’m really digging this possessive streak of his. Is it awful of me to sort of, kind of, secretly want him to get into a fistfight over me? Well, another one. Punching Tanner doesn’t count. “What was the surprise?”

  “A puppy, which I promptly turned down.”

  “A puppy?” Brody snorts, rolling his eyes. “What a fucking idiot. You don’t just give someone a puppy without being damn sure they want one.”

  “Exactly! It’s a lot of responsibility. And if the person doesn’t want it, it becomes more of a burden. I hope he finds her a loving home, though. She’s pretty darn cute. And now it’s my turn.” I rub my hands in anticipation.

  He quirks a brow at me, amused by my enthusiasm. “Your turn?”

  “You said you would answer a question if I told you about dinner,” I remind him. “And my question is, why did you leave the resort for that job in the Alps after you graduated from business school?”

  “Shit, Queenie. You go right for the tough ones, huh?” I shrug, undeterred by his sigh. “Fine. When I graduated from business school, I had all these ideas for the resort. Just some things we could be doing differently. Mostly new technology innovations and digital marketing strategies I learned while in school. Dad took my suggestions as a criticism, like I was calling him a failure or something. Said he knew more about running a business than some uppity Harvard grad and that if he needed advice, he certainly wouldn’t consult his twenty-four-year-old son.”

  And he leaves it at that.

  Getting this guy to talk is like pulling teeth. I’m going to have to pry a bit more. “So you left?”

  Averting hi
s gaze, he busies himself by reaching for the television controller. “Yeah, I had to leave. I couldn’t stay at a place where my ideas weren’t valued. Want to watch an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm?”

  An abrupt change of subject there. But I think I get why the topic bothers him.

  Turning, I enclose him in a tight hug. “I think he forgives you, Brody.” He tenses against me, but I only hold him tighter. “It can be hard for a parent to accept their child knows more than them. It’s like a complete role reversal, you know? And it’s hard for someone as brilliant as you, so smart and a natural born leader, to stand back and play the dutiful son. Up in heaven or wherever we go when it’s our time, I think he’s looking down on you and smiling, proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

  We stay like that, with me hugging him and him not exactly accepting the hug but also not resisting it, for several long beats.

  “I just wish…” Brody breathes against my neck. I patiently wait him out, gently squeezing his bicep in a show of support. “I wish my last words to him hadn’t been fuck you. That I could have handled the situation like an adult instead of storming off like a petulant child. That I picked up the damn phone and called sometime during those eight long years.”

  I shake my head. “People say things when they’re angry, Brody. I’m sure your father said a lot of things he didn’t mean during that argument, too. And calling is a two-way street. He could have just as easily called you. It’s not worth it to carry around all that guilt for the rest of your life.”

  The corners of his mouth quirk up. “Why do you let people think you’re dumb?”

  I try to laugh, but it sounds fake. “You think I’m pretending?”

  “Yeah. As a defense mechanism or a survival technique. Play the dumb blonde so when you go in for the knockout, they don’t even see it coming.”

  I smile. Tanner said the same thing a while back. But I’m not quite so devious.

  “Close. I can be a little ditzy,” I admit, “but I do play it up a lot. It’s a controlled image. People talk about my family regardless, but this way, they’re saying what I want them to say. So I play the crazy dumb whore.”

  “You actually want people to think you’re crazy dumb whore?”

  “Not people,” I correct. “At least, not all people. My friends and family, the ones who matter, they know I’m not like that. Besides, my image gives me freedom.”

  “There’s freedom in being labeled a whore?”

  “If they assume the worst of me, I’ve got nothing to lose. I can live my life on my own terms. No one’s going to bother to dig underneath the surface if the surface is scratched to shit anyway.”

  “What’s underneath the surface that you don’t want people to see?”

  Ah, hell. I gave away too much.

  Curving my lips, I send him a wink. “There’s not much depth to me. Trust me.”

  A muscle in his jaw flexes and I know he doesn’t believe me. I expect him to pry, like I did about his father, but he just nods, returning his attention to the television screen. “So, Curb Your Enthusiasm?”

  I don’t know why he’s letting the issue go, but I’ll take any reprieve I can get at this point.

  “I love that show.” We share a grin and settle in for a Larry David marathon.

  I must say, this is the most unusual evening of my life. But it’s also the best.

  Chapter Twenty

  You’re probably wondering about the sleeping arrangements. Well, that turned out to be irrelevant.

  About five episodes in, we fall asleep on the couch. Brody resting his head on one end, me on the other, with our legs intertwined in the middle. Anticlimactic, I know. But I swear we’ll make it into a bed together one day.

  The early morning light shining in through the living room window wakes me up just minutes before Brody’s shrill of an alarm goes off on his phone. I watch him stretch a bit, enjoying the flash of that V shape just below his abdominal muscles. Even with slight bedhead, the man is positively scrumptious first thing in the morning.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do,” Brody croaks, his voice still heavy with sleep. “I take it you don’t want to wear yesterday’s clothes to work, but also don’t want Fallon and Mina to catch you sneaking into your house this morning?”

  “That’s a negative, Ghost Rider.” He cocks a brow at my Top Gun reference and I can’t help giving him a cheeky salute in return.

  “Right. Instead of taking your usual hour long lunch break at noon today, you’re going to take a fifteen to twenty-minute break. The rest of that time will be used this morning so you can go home and change. I’ll expect you to be in around 7:45 or so.”

  “What if Fallon and Mina are still home?”

  “Mina has to open the café at 6:00am sharp. And Fallon’s leading a sunrise hike this morning. They should be long gone.”

  I’m still not convinced. “Fallon and Tanner have switched hiking groups before-”

  “Not without my permission first. Here.” He retrieves his cell phone and swipes to unlock the screen. “Give me your number. If there’s a change in schedule, I’ll call you.”

  I recite my number and ask him to call me so I can store his.

  “Are you putting me in as Satan?”

  “Naturally.” Flipping my phone around, I show him. “And I’m assigning you The Imperial March as your ringtone.”

  “First Top Gun and now Star Wars?” He drops a hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Didn’t take you for a movie junkie.”

  I make a humming sound, loving the way his thumb lingers to caress the skin along my neckline. “What do you think I was doing during all those long-haul flights? I know my movies.”

  He bends down and presses his lips just beside my ear. “See, I can scheme too.”

  Man, oh, man. My cheeks are going to be feeling it today from the serious grin his comment elicits. I seriously love playful Brody.

  Sneaking into the house and arriving to work late turns out to be a breeze. I even make it to my desk earlier than expected, booting up my computer at 7:30am.

  I ask Brody if he still wants to meet this morning, like we usually do, but he says I can spend the day putting any final touches on tomorrow night’s party.

  Which works out perfectly. Because not even five minutes later, Robbie calls to announce he’s waiting downstairs with the decorations. And that’s how I spend my day, hanging up party decorations with Robbie.

  Let’s just pause here for a second. Because, holy shit, is this guy talented! Out of some sort of fabric and paint, he created a yellow brick road to be laid out throughout the venue’s floors. There are foam lollipop and candy cane trees reminiscent of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, paintings of Tara from Gone with the Wind, a large cardboard rendition of a street car with the word desire written across it, a papier-mâché of Marilyn Monroe’s infamous upskirt scene from The Seven Year Itch…The list goes on and on. This is way more than I had expected him to do and I’m super impressed he did it all by himself.

  It’s closing time when we finally have everything in place. My purse is still back at the office so I thank Robbie profusely for doing all of this pro bono, give him a huge hug, and invite him to the party before heading back.

  I hit the brakes when I spot Fallon, Mina, and Brody hanging out by my desk.

  Sugar honey iced tea. There’s no avoiding them now.

  “Hey, guys. What’s going on?”

  “Hey, roomie. Long time no see.” Fallon’s eyes are dancing with mischief. “Didn’t hear you come home last night. And you weren’t in bed this morning.”

  “Natalie, the girl working the front desk last night, says she saw you and your friend Eddie head up to his room around seven,” Mina adds.

  Ah, fuck. While I’m not sure if I want them to know I spent the night with Brody, I definitely don’t want anyone thinking I spent the night with Eddie. “Yeah, he tried to give me a dog.”

  Fallon’s face contorts with confus
ion. “A dog? Is that code for some sort of sex thing? Like the new way of saying doggie style?”

  “Fallon,” Brody groans, probably wishing his baby sister didn’t know the phrase doggie style even existed.

  “I’m ten years older than you. You’re more likely to know new slang words than I am,” I point out.

  “Okay...so is that like the old way of saying doggie style?”

  “No. It was an actual dog. As in, the animal that goes woof woof. Anyway, why are you two here? And why are you wearing athletic gear?”

  That last question is geared mostly towards Brody, who had changed out of the suit he was wearing this morning. Mina’s still wearing her chef’s outfit and Fallon’s in her usual hiking gear.

  “Didn’t Brody tell you? Today’s the annual camping trip,” Fallon explains. “All the managers hike through Acadia National Park to one of the group campgrounds. We pitch our tents and spend the night there. It’s supposed to be a team building exercise. It’s really weird he didn’t mention it to you. As a manager, you’re invited.”

  Three pairs of eyes hone in on Brody, who shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Must have slipped my mind. I’ve been…busy.” He shoots me a heated look.

  He’s been busy, all right. Busy fucking me on any surface we come into contact with.

  Except a bed, of course. Too normal for us. But ooh, a campground sounds right up our alley!

  “Sounds fun. When do we leave?” I ask.

  Fallon lets out a hoot of excitement while Mina looks stunned. Brody remains neutral.

  “Now you have to go, Mina! No way can you pass up an opportunity to watch Charlotte hike through the woods! We might have to start taking bets on how far she makes it.” Fallon is practically bouncing with her giddiness.

  I don’t take offense. Most people, including my family, assume I always stay at five star hotels when I travel. Roughing it in a tent doesn’t exactly sound like something that would be in my repertoire.

  “I’m still not going.” Mina crosses her arms and shakes her head with finality.

  “Come on,” Fallon pleads. “There will be so many other people there, you won’t even have to talk to Tanner, I promise.”