“Aren’t you going to ask me about my evening last night?”
“I already know how your evening was. You plucked an Ames twin. You got laid. That’s why you have that dumbass smile on your face.”
Ben kind of always had that dumbass smile on his face, but this morning it was more dumbass than usual.
Man, six o’clock in the morning came early.
Ben seemed raring to go, though. Getting his rocks off agreed with him. Of course it pretty much agreed with all men.
Braden poured himself a cup of coffee and took a drink. “Damn!”
“You burn your mouth every time,” Ben said. “Think you’d learn by now.”
“It’s what gets me moving. Come on. We’re going to be late.”
Ben nodded.
One thing the Black boys had in abundance was work ethic. They both had their issues with their dad, but he’d taught them that much. He’d learned the hard way, burning their house to the ground when the boys were little. Their mother never fully recovered, but she’d saved both their lives.
…
“She saved you?” I ask.
Braden nods.
“There’s so much you haven’t told me about your mother.”
“It’s all related to the story I’m telling you,” he says. “Be patient.”
Patience isn’t my strong suit, but I’m getting better. I nod.
…
No clouds at all that day. None. The sun was blistering hot, and by the end of the nearly ten-hour day, Braden was dehydrated, fatigued, and sunburnt. Ben had gone out for a beer with some of the guys, but Braden only wanted to get home and take a cool shower.
So he was more than a little surprised when someone was waiting for him at his truck.
Addison Ames. The heiress from the party last night. She wore denim cutoffs and a hot pink crop top. Her belly was flat and her navel sported a pink jeweled piercing.
“Hello there, Mr. Black,” she said.
“It’s Braden. What can I do for you?”
“I could use a ride.”
“Yeah? How did you get here?”
“Just happened to be in the area.”
Okay. That could be true. They were working on a mall near the Ames house. But she was lying. Braden could tell.
“Sorry, I have somewhere to be. I’ll be happy to call you a cab.”
“Don’t be like that.” She batted her long brown eyelashes. Then she went around to the passenger side and slid right into his truck.
Shit. Now what? He was tired and dirty and really didn’t need this distraction.
He got in. “Fine. I’ll drive you home.”
He did, only to find her waiting for him again at the end of work the next day.
This went on for four days straight, until he finally said, “No dice today, Ms. Ames.”
“Call me Addie.”
“No dice, Addie. Find your own way home.” Braden got in his truck and left her there, hands upon her hips.
He hadn’t seen the last of her. He knew that. But he was tired of her games.
He hadn’t given her any reason to think she had a chance, though he was close to losing control around her. She was beautiful, and she was offering.
His age, which he’d used the first night to keep himself in check, wasn’t working anymore. He was still damned young with a damned strong libido.
So this had to stop now.
Unless…
Could she possibly give him what he wanted?
He wasn’t looking for love, but he wouldn’t mind a roll in the hay. Several rolls even, as long as they were on his terms.
The next day, she wasn’t waiting for him after work.
Good enough. No roll in the hay, and that was okay, too. She’d finally gotten the message.
He drove home, and—
“Fuck,” he said under his breath.
Addison Ames, this time dressed in a trench coat—yeah, a trench coat in this heat—was waiting outside the door to his apartment.
Braden’s jeans were covered in sawdust, and what seemed like five layers of grime covered his body and lay beneath his fingernails.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“What do you think?”
“I’m exhausted.” He unlocked his door. “I don’t have time for these games. Go slumming somewhere else.”
She pushed out her lower lip, and he couldn’t help himself. He thought about biting it.
Hard.
“You sure that’s what you want?” she teased.
No, he wasn’t sure at all. In fact, despite his fatigue, he was getting hard.
Fuck. Just what he didn’t need.
“That’s what I want,” he said gruffly.
She opened her trench coat. “Still sure?”
Chapter Forty-Seven
“Seriously? She flashed you in the parking lot?”
“She did.” Braden nods.
“And since you’re a guy…”
“I was younger then,” he says, as if that’s a good excuse. “Hey, you wanted to know all this.”
I sigh. “You’re right. Go on.”
…
Mother fuck.
She wore a leather bra with holes for her nipples. And those nipples were clamped. Already clamped. Fucking god damn.
She’d replaced the pink jewel in her navel with an onyx barbell, and the only thing covering the rest of her was a black leather thong.
She pulled a black riding crop out of her pocket.
“You’ll never use that on me,” he said.
“I know.” She inched closer to him. “You’re going to use it on me.”
He was tired. So tired. And horny.
He didn’t know this woman. Hell, she was barely a woman. But she was legal, and that was all that mattered.
“I need a shower,” he said, more to himself than to her.
“Fine. Take one.” She closed the distance between them, her clamped nipples nearly touching his chest. “And it doesn’t have to be cold.”
He was done fighting her. She wanted this? Fine. He’d give it to her. But on his terms.