Negligee Behavior

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Negligee Behavior Page 17

by Shelli Stevens


  “Shoot.” She winced and bit her lip. “I meant to call my parents. I just thought…”

  “You were just having too much fun playing me for a sucker?”

  “What?” Brandy blinked in shock. “Of course not. Look, after all that’s happened between us, should it even matter who I am?”

  “Maybe.”

  No. The room spun and for a moment she thought he meant to end it. Not that there was a lot to end. She’d known him an entire five days. But those five days had already changed her significantly. He had changed her.

  She stared at him, watching the uncertainty and anger flicker in his eyes.

  “I’m still the same person I was when I left here an hour ago, Marco.”

  “No, you’re not. When you left you were just a damned choir teacher.” He scowled. “And now you’re some rich heiress to bra-selling parents.”

  “Bra-selling parents?” She arched a brow and gave a soft laugh. “Oh God. If they could hear you reducing them to bra-selling parents right now they’d have a conniption. Sugar and Spice is the fastest growing lingerie chain in North America. We just opened our first store in Europe.”

  His fingers curled tighter around the pen in his hand. “Well. You must be worth a pretty penny then.”

  “Yes. Yes. I am. Is that a problem?” Brandy’s anger was fully ignited by his petty response.

  The tic in his jaw was his only reply. And then it became all too clear.

  “You’re an idiot,” she said softly and shook her head.

  “What did you say?”

  “You are…” She pushed the door shut and then walked behind the desk, sliding onto his lap. “An idiot.”

  She breathed in his spicy scent, watching the mix of heat and hesitation in his gaze.

  “Look. I’ve known who you were since the moment we met,” she said, cupping his cheek and stroking her thumb over the stubble. “And it doesn’t have any effect on how I feel about you. I would hope you could say the same about me.”

  She felt the tension in his muscles ease, before he caught her wrist, placing a kiss on the inside.

  “Brandy,” his voice grew husky, but the hesitation still remained.

  “You know what? Just stop thinking about it so hard and kiss me.” She brushed her lips across his.

  His arms tightened around her and she opened her mouth to his seeking tongue.

  She parried the slick intrusion by stroking her tongue against his. Heat built with each passing second in her belly, before sliding low between her legs.

  He pulled back and brushed a kiss against her neck.

  “You know,” he murmured. “They think I kidnapped you.”

  Her pulse increased steadily as his lips brushed an ultrasensitive spot.

  “Who does?”

  “Your parents. Gordon. Everyone.”

  She blinked, his words finally sinking in and she jerked away. “But that’s ridiculous! If anything I kidnapped you.”

  A smile played around his mouth. “That’s what I said. And something’s fishy. Not once did Gordon mention the wedding in the interview. It was like your parents didn’t know anything about it. He said you were last seen in front of a restaurant.”

  Her lips pressed together. Why had Gordon lied? She looked away and shook her head. It shouldn’t come as a complete shock.

  “My parents wouldn’t have approved of it,” she admitted. “That’s probably why he didn’t tell them.”

  “You need to call them, Brandy. I know you’re trying to keep a low profile from Gordon, but your parents are worried. Sebastian and I were surprised to hear no one’s recognized you yet—but how long can that go on?”

  “I’m not really that worried about it. People never paid all that much attention to me anyway. Well, not until I started dating Gordon. And now with the new look I’m even more unrecognizable.” She twisted her finger around one of the curls in her hair. “Which is part of the reason I agreed to the makeover.”

  “And the other?”

  Her heart thudded a bit faster as she looked at him again. “Well, to convince you to go to bed with me.”

  His nostrils flared, even as his smile stayed casual. “You didn’t need a makeover.” He shook his head. “You’ve been driving me crazy since the moment you jumped my bike.”

  “Really? In a good or bad way?” she asked, ridiculously pleased by his words.

  “A good way.” He ran the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip. “Now why don’t you go call your parents?”

  “I suppose I’d better.” She slid off his lap, regretting the loss of warmth and intimacy. “I’m sorry, Marco. You’re right. I should have told you earlier. It’s just,” she hesitated and then shrugged. “I’m having a lot of fun with you. You don’t treat me the way everyone else does.”

  “And that’s what you want? To be treated…normally?”

  “Pretty much. It’s why I picked a normal career. That and I love music.” She lifted her head and gave him a brief smile. “Let me go make that call and then maybe we could head back to your house.”

  The sympathy and understanding in his gaze put a lump in her throat.

  “Of course we can,” he said after a moment. “Go call them.”

  “Okay.” She drew in an unsteady breath, her belly warming with pleasure. “I’ll be back in a few.”

  Tucking a curl behind her ear, she gave him one last tentative smile before leaving the office.

  Reaching into her purse, she pulled out her cell phone and moved to the far corner of the kitchen.

  She crouched down between the bread rack and walk-in freezer, not wanting anyone to overhear this upcoming conversation.

  Her mother picked up the phone at the first ring.

  “Mom? It’s Brandy.”

  “Brandy! Where on earth are you?” The relief in her mom’s voice rolled in waves through the connection. “For the love of all things holy, do you have any idea what your dad and I have been going through?”

  She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I meant to call.”

  “Where are you? When Gordon told us that you ran out on him at the restaurant—”

  “We had a fight.”

  Should she mention the wedding? Hmm. Probably not a good idea. She really had no intention of marrying, or even dating, Gordon again at this point.

  “So I gather,” her mom said. “Which I think is great. You know how I feel about him. In fact, I hope you dumped that loser on his pasty ass. I just wish you would have called us sooner.”

  Pasty ass. Not for the first time, she questioned whether she might have been adopted. Her parents were just so outspoken, so raw, so…hmm. Almost like Marco.

  “Brandy? Are you there?”

  Brandy grimaced and snapped her attention back to her mom. Evil, stupid tangents.

  “Yes. Sorry.”

  “Where are you? Do you want us to send the plane to pick you up?”

  Send the plane. While most people would consider sending a driver outlandish, she’d grown up with send the plane if she strayed more than a few hours from home.

  “I’m still in Nevada,” she admitted. “And no, I don’t need the plane. I need a break. I met someone—”

  “You met someone?” And just like that the dynamics of the conversation changed. “Have you gone to bed with him yet?” Her mom giggled. “Wait, of course not, this is you we’re talking about.”

  Brandy bristled, but resisted the urge to get offended. “Mom—”

  “I bet he owns a casino.”

  Try a bar. “Mom—”

  “Have fun with him, Brandy. You’re young. You need to experience life! Go out and party for once.”

  Brandy closed her eyes and counted to three.

  “Why I’ll bet you’ve never stepped foot into a bar in your entire life,” her mom went on.

  “Actually I have.” In fact I just had sex in one the other night. Brandy stopped herself before she could say the rest.

  “Good. It warms a mother’s
heart to hear that. Anyway, my point is I want you to enjoy your time with this young man.”

  Brandy sighed and shook her head. “I don’t recall even saying this person was a he.”

  There was a pause. “Okay. So it’s a she? Well if you do decide to go that route, know that your dad and I completely support your choice—”

  “For fuck’s sake, Mom, I’m not dating women!”

  Another pause. “Brandy Elizabeth Summers. Did you just swear?”

  Brandy winced. God, she had. What the heck was happening to her? The Marco influence. Or wait, no, she’d learned that one from Sebastian. You got around those guys and you couldn’t help picking up their habits.

  “Sorry, mom. I just—”

  “No don’t apologize, honey. That’s wonderful.” She could hear the smile in her mom’s voice. “This man is good for you. I can tell you’re loosening up a little already.”

  Only her mom would think drinking and swearing were good traits. In moderation, of course. Everything in moderation was her mother’s motto.

  “Look, I’m going to go, mom.” She sighed. “But will you do me a favor?”

  “Sure. You name it.”

  “Tell the media that I went on some spontaneous trip to the Mediterranean or something. Don’t tell them I’m in Nevada.” She gripped the phone tighter. “And whatever you do, don’t tell Gordon where I am. If he calls, you can tell him the same thing. Just please…please don’t tell him where I am.”

  “All right, honey. I won’t. You just be sure to check in with us.”

  A pair of denim-clad legs suddenly appeared in front of her, and Brandy raised her eyes until she found Sebastian grinning down at her.

  “Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

  “We love you, too. Have fun, honey. Oh and use a condom.”

  Brandy slammed her phone shut, her cheeks heating with color.

  “Having fun, luv?”

  Chapter Twelve

  “How much did you hear?”

  “Not as much as I’d have liked.” He winked and put out his hand.

  “Good. Eavesdropping is considered in poor taste.” She took it and let him help her up. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “So,” she folded her arms across her chest. “I take it you know who I am now?”

  “Yes, I have to say I do.”

  “And you’re not really imagining me naked, are you?” She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes with amusement.

  “Only for the briefest of moments.” His grin broadened. “But I don’t have a death wish.”

  Brandy’s lips twitched. “So can I trust you to keep it quiet?”

  He placed his hand over his heart and winced. “You wound me, Brandy. Truly you do. To think I’d utter a word to anyone.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “I didn’t say you’d out me. I just had to cover my bases.”

  “Another baseball term?”

  “Of course. So if anyone asks, no I am not the same Brandy as that heiress chick who ran off to the Mediterranean.”

  “You went to the Mediterranean?”

  “No.” She gave him a pointed look. “But that’s what the media will be saying within the next few hours.”

  “Got it. Well, my lips are sealed,” he promised and shoved his hands into his pocket. “Look, I came back to talk to you, because I wanted to make sure you and Marco are still cool.”

  “Ah, Sebastian. You were worried?” she teased and started back toward Marco’s office.

  “A little.” He stopped her, placing a hand on her shoulder before she could pass him.

  “That’s sweet. We’re fine, I smoothed things over. Though I think he was a little hurt that I didn’t confide in him.”

  “He was,” Sebastian said quietly. “I don’t think you have any idea how good you are for him.”

  Her heart did a little flip, but she shook her head and tried to sound casual. “It’s only been a few days. We’re just having fun.”

  “Right. You both just keep telling yourselves that.” Sebastian stepped back, letting her walk by.

  Brandy moved past him, trying to ignore Sebastian’s laughter that followed her.

  Porcelain exploded into hundreds of pieces as Gordon threw the seventeenth century Chinese vase against the wall.

  “Fuck!”

  He dragged his palms across his cheeks and paced in front of the living room windows of his Hollywood home.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  The Summerses were lying through their billion dollar teeth. Brandy needed time alone and had fled to the Mediterranean? Bullshit!

  Brandy didn’t want to be found, by him or anyone else. It was obvious she’d asked her parents to cover for her.

  He was running out of time. If he didn’t come up with the money, he might as well pack his bags for that long walk in the desert his bookie had threatened him with.

  Sweat trickled down the back of his neck and he eyed the broken vase with regret and guilt. He could have easily gotten a million at least for that. Not that it would have even made a dent in the money he owed.

  He had to find Brandy. She was his only option. But how the hell did he find her? It was like she’d disappeared off the damn planet.

  “Shit.” Grinding his teeth together, he picked up his phone again and dialed an old contact.

  “I need a favor,” he snapped when the man answered. “I need help locating a woman and want you to track a credit card for me…Yes, I know it will cost me…Well they fucking lied, I have plenty of money…Look, just do it.”

  He gave him the details and disconnected the call. With unsteady hands he went to pour himself a shot of whiskey.

  Marco dumped their dishes from dinner into the sink. What the hell was taking Brandy so long?

  “What are you doing in there?” he called out.

  “I need to brush my teeth.”

  He grunted at her response and went to sit down on the couch. The remote was just inches away on the table, and he reached over to grab it, flicking on the news.

  Across the screen flashed an image of Brandy’s parents speaking to the media again. He turned the volume up until he could hear what was being said.

  “Brandy? When are you going to the Mediterranean?” he asked, his mouth curving in amusement.

  “I’m not. I just want everyone else to believe I’m there.” Her voice grew closer.

  He turned his head, expecting to see her in another one of his baggy T-shirts. At the sight of her, his dick stirred, and he couldn’t stop the strangled groan that escaped.

  “Do you like it?” she asked hesitantly. Each step closer to him displayed more of her body under the short, flimsy red negligee. His attention first caught on those perfectly shaped legs to her toenails, now painted a dark red to match the lingerie.

  Dragging his gaze back up her body, he locked on the hard tips of her full breasts pressing against the see-through fabric.

  “I thought you were brushing your teeth,” he choked.

  She grinned and placed a hand on her hip. “Well, yeah, I was doing that too. You never answered my question. Do you like it?”

  “Hell yeah I like it.” He swallowed hard and resisted the urge to just undo his fly now and ease the discomfort.

  The lingerie was sexy, tiny and looked expensive as hell. It had to have come from her parents’ shop. Had she had it the entire time? Jealousy pricked deep as he realized why she likely had it.

  “Do you wear that for Gordon?” he asked, before he could stop himself.

  “What? Of course not. Gordon and I had sex maybe a handful of times, and I can guarantee you neither of us put any effort into it. Kind of like the handful of times I tried yoga.”

  Surprise took the place of jealousy, but he didn’t dwell on it as she crossed to the couch and straddled his thighs.

  “I picked this up at Sugar and Spice the other day during the shopping trip with Val.”

  He barely managed to lift his gaze from her
breasts that were now in his face. “Before we’d slept together?”

  “I was thinking positive.” She took his hands and slid them up her belly until they covered the soft fullness of her breasts. “Oh God. Marco I’ve needed this all day.”

  He kneaded her flesh, feeling her nipples firm against his palm.

  “You can say that again,” he muttered and lowered his mouth toward hers. Brushing his mouth across her parted lips. “You’re my Lingerie Goddess.”

  “Goddess? Really?” Her body tensed against him, and she pulled back. “That’s not funny.”

  “What’s not funny? Hey, wait a second.” He grabbed her wrist when she tried to step away. “What’s wrong? What did I say?”

  Her cheeks flushed and she shrugged. “Nothing. I mean…it’s just you don’t need to call me a goddess, okay? I know what I am.”

  “Oh yeah? And what are you?”

  “I’m plain. I’ve got a little extra meat on my bones—”

  “Stop it.” His grip around her wrist tightened and he drew her forward, pulling her onto his lap. “Brandy, you are a sexy woman. Don’t you have any idea what you do to me?”

  When she didn’t respond, he traced his thumb over the fast-beating pulse in her wrist.

  “Brandy.”

  “I do, it’s just….” she grimaced. “You know who I am now. The kind of women I grew up admiring. The ones I always compared myself to.”

  Realization dawned and he nodded slowly.

  “Why would you compare yourself to them?”

  “How could I not? I was immersed in that world. I mean, I figured out from a very young age I would never match up—”

  “Jesus, Brandy, no one matches up. They’re fucking supermodels—”

  “I know that. Now.” She cleared her throat. “When I was a teen I made a decision to not even try. I knew I had the smarts to be whatever I wanted, but I doubted my looks.”

  “You shouldn’t have.”

  “Maybe.” She lowered her gaze. “But I remember the first time it hit me. That I was the ugly duckling heiress to a business that was created for beautiful women.”

  He stayed silent for a moment, letting her finish.

  “So I decided to focus on music, and not my looks. I just downplayed my looks so I wouldn’t stand out.”

 

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