“Or do you need a reminder?”
Oh holy heck. The look in his eyes goes straight between my thighs. I swallow hard.
Braxton’s gaze doesn’t leave mine, not for a second. “Come here,” he demands.
“We really don’t have time,” I say lamely, even though I scoot closer.
“There’s always time to make you mine.” Braxton closes the gap between us. He reaches behind my head, and I feel my hair tug at my scalp before it falls free at my shoulders. He snaps my hair tie around his wrist before he cups my face and closes his mouth over mine. His kiss is deliberate, possessive. My heart hammers wildly in my chest. Yes, yes. This is the Braxton I need. This hardheaded, bold, and powerful man who can’t love me hard enough.
He pops open the back door of the car. “Get in,” he tells me.
I do, lying back. As Braxton stands outside, he shrugs off his grey blazer.
“Lift your hips,” he tells me, so I do like a half bridge. He scoots his jacket underneath me, covering the seat.
I lower back down, lying on his blazer now. Eyes still on me, he takes off his glasses, folds them up carefully, and sets them down on the car floor. My body grows hot with anticipation. Braxton climbs in on top of me and slams the door closed behind him, locking us in. He doesn’t waste time laying claim to my lips, neck, and breasts with his mouth. I sigh contently under his hungry affection and hook my legs around his hips. I feel him undo the button of my jeans, and I hear the harsh hiss of my zipper. He shoves his hand under my pants and I gasp, spreading my thighs wider to give him better access. I open up like a morning glory under his touch, wet with dawn dew and trembling.
Braxton rolls my pants and underwear down to my ankles. Maneuvering the small space is tricky, but I find I don’t mind being cramped against this hot, hard wolf of a man. He pushes his own pants down his hips, lowers his body into the crook of mine, and presses himself inside of me.
I gasp loudly and grip the leather seat to brace myself. Oh my God. He feels so good inside of me, like that’s where he belongs. As though we’re two parts of a puzzle piece, made to be together. When he kisses me, there’s more than rough demand in his lips. There’s love in his kiss. An all-encompassing, greedy love.
“You’re all mine,” Braxton reminds me.
“Yes,” I agree breathlessly. “Yours.”
He positions his hips until he hits a place inside of me that makes my toes curl.
“Oh…just like that,” I whisper and draw my fingers across the cool window. The inside of the truck is hot now, misting the windows from the inside, and my fingers slip. Braxton grabs my hand and pins it there. As he does, his fingers lace in between mine so we’re palm to palm.
The energy between us is palpable. I taste every breath that leaves his lungs and drink in every rough moan that leaves his lips. The leather seat is rough underneath me, and it squeaks with every one of Braxton’s hard thrusts. We’re clinging to each other, limbs and clothes tangled.
I’m so connected to him, my heart beating in time with his, that I can’t even tell which of us reaches our peak first. All I know is that, all at once, we’re shuddering as one, moaning, and he’s covering my lips in sweet, small kisses, each in time with my throbbing, thrumming body. Pleasure hums through my entire being, and I pant wetly as I come down from it.
“I’m pretty sure we ruined your blazer.” I grin against his mouth.
“It was worth it,” he murmurs.
As I come back to reality, a glint catches my eye. A smile breaks over my lips.
“Hey.” I pluck the glittering wedding band from the cupholder and hold it up. “Is this what you’re looking for?”
Relief washes over Braxton’s features. “It must have bounced off the window,” he says as he takes the ring. Braxton pulls away from me to put the ring away. I feel cold without him on top of me. I shift and carefully pull my pants back up.
“You’re amazing,” he says.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I add.
His eyes flicker over to me. “Better or worse than Ace?”
“Ace who?” I ask, batting my eyes.
There’s that look I was hoping for. Braxton looks like he’s trying so hard to bite back a smile, but somehow always loses the battle around me. “Good answer,” he praises me with a kiss.
“As much as I’d love to stay here…and do that all day…”
“I know.” Braxton plucks his glasses off the floor. “Let’s get going.”
31
Susie
On our way to the Holiday Inn, I pull down the passenger-side mirror. I run my fingers through my hair, fix my lipstick, and try to make myself look a little less like I’ve been rolling around in the back seat with Braxton.
Braxton, on the other hand, leaves himself as is. He’s lucky—he always looks ready to take on the world. He could pull out of me, zip up his pants, and go straight into a business meeting and no one would be any the wiser. The thought makes my thighs clench a little tighter. Focus, Susie.
We drive up to the hotel minutes later. Braxton leaves his blazer balled up under the seat, and we head inside. We take the elevator up to Thom and Marlee’s room. I follow the maze of numbers until we get to theirs, and I knock on the door.
It’s only a moment before the door swings open. Thom stands on the other side of it, and immediately, his eyes graze us. His lips press into a frown.
“You two have clearly been having crazy rabbit sex without us,” Thom announces. “How uncouth.”
“We’re not…what?” I fumble.
“Your boyfriend has your lipstick on his neck.”
Braxton’s hand flies to his throat as though he’s been bit, and he rubs the offending smudge off.
“Can we come in?” I ask delicately. Thom is perched like a hawk and clearly in a mood.
“If this is a coup…” Thom starts.
“No. No coup.” I lift my palms to show him I mean no harm. “I’m not here to take over. You’re right. I thought I could handle this and…I can’t.” I shrug. “I’m just here to help.”
Thom watches me skeptically, but then the hardness around his eyes softens and the crease leaves his forehead. “Bollocks. It takes big balls to come crawling back,” he admits. “All right, come on in. Welcome to the front lines.”
Whatever can be said about Thom, he is organized. There is no madness here, only method—unless, of course, a wall full of Post-it notes, magazine cutouts, and invoices looks like madness.
Okay. It does look a little mad in here. But my heart lifts. “It feels like coming home,” I sigh as I take in the wall and slip my cardigan off my shoulders.
Thom is pleased, I can tell, even though he’d never admit it. “Yes, well. We don’t play here.”
“Hi!” Marlee says and waves. She’s sitting cross-legged on the furthest of the twin beds with her laptop in front of her, Bluetooth in one ear. She offers a bag of hotel pretzels. “Want some?”
“No, thank you,” I say. Braxton perches on the edge of the bed beside her, however, and does take a pretzel. “What’s the damage?”