“For my mouth?” I asked, a bit breathless.
His eyebrows rose, and then he lowered his gaze to my thighs. “For my feast.”
I clenched my legs together and nearly let out a moan when he slowly removed my feet from his lap, then got on his hands and knees so we were at eye level before he whispered, “But since you’re injured…”
I licked my lips. Was he going to kiss me?
“Since I’m injured,” I repeated breathlessly.
He cupped my face with both hands. “I’d be tender. So tender, you’d barely feel my lips brush across yours.”
I gulped. He was inches from my face. His eyes darted toward my mouth. My entire body ached for him to close the distance; he was too far away.
I must have leaned in first because he met me halfway. His lips were soft, molding to mine like we were made to fit. I could taste wine on his tongue as it slid across mine, igniting a fire in my soul that I’d never felt from a kiss before. It was like I would never be the same again.
He pulled away. His hooded gaze was so sexy that I wanted to grab him by the shirt and jerk him against me. “I take it back.”
“Take what back?” I whispered.
“The whole thing about not being on drugs. I think I just found mine.” And then he kissed me again and again until I lost count. Until he was suddenly next to me on the couch. Until we were making out like we were in high school.
I lost all track of time, but at some point, he pulled away with a cheeky grin and whispered, “Netflix and chill, any questions?”
“Not anymore.” I grinned back at him.
He slowly got up from the couch. I was so disappointed he wasn’t taking things further. While at the same time, I wondered how I was going to find my footing and go back to being his life coach after he’d gotten so deep under my skin by way of kissing like a god.
He grabbed my pills, changed the number on the bottle, crushed up another one, and put it in peanut butter, then handed it to me.
I took it and then grabbed my bottled water to wash everything down. He was staring at me funny.
“What?”
Braden grinned. “I was just wondering if it would be gross or insanely erotic if I lined your lips with blueberry jam, took a nice lick, then sucked off your tongue until you orgasmed by way of peanut butter…”
“You—you—” I sputtered. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”
“You say, ‘good idea, Braden, let’s do that next time. But for now, my lips are bruised, and even though I know you want to see me naked, I’m injured. So, let me sleep—but stay.’”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Good.” He left the room and returned with two pillows and a blanket, then lay down right next to the couch and handed me one of the pillows.
I got as comfortable as I could, and then I dropped my hand toward his head and ran my fingers through his hair. “I like your hair.”
He snorted. “It’s bright.”
“It’s yours.” I shrugged, earning a genuine smile from him.
“Yeah, you need to stop looking at me like that. I’m trying this new thing called self-control, but you’re beautiful, and you taste like heaven, and it makes me wonder what you taste like everywhere. I’m pretty sure the damn coffee table is gonna make me hard whenever I glance at it because all I’m going to picture is devouring you on top of it. Sorry, what was I saying again?” He winked.
I burst out laughing and squeezed his hand tighter. “Thanks for carrying me today.”
“We all have moments we need to be carried, Piper,” he said softly. “I’d be honored to carry you anywhere.”
I fell asleep holding his hand and silently wondering how I would ever eventually let it go.
When I woke up, it was to find Braden on the floor, sprawled out and shirtless, allowing me an incredible six-pack-fueled view. His hands were tucked under his pillow, giving him a devastatingly handsome look with his ruffled hair and inked-up skin.
My rock star.
No. Not mine.
Client. He was my client.
Ugh, even my brain was on board with my heart.
I’d known him for what? Almost a week, and already we were kissing. Already, I was breaking so many rules. And for the first time in years, I didn’t care. I was putting myself first instead of my job.
It wasn’t like we’d slept together. We just kissed. Okay, so we made out, a lot. And flirted. And yeah, I was tempted to grab my pillow and scream into it. I was so in over my head.
I wanted the fantasy of waking up next to him, of being able to just hang out with him. But I needed to help him—by any means necessary. So today I was going to wake up and attempt to keep from begging him to stay home and kiss me all day. Because as good as it sounded, sometimes a person needed saving, even if it was just from themselves. Braden needed that right now more than my kisses.
He turned to his side, making the blanket fall even farther down to his hips. I leaned a little closer to the sofa’s edge and studied this new development. Was he in boxers? Briefs?
I gave my head a good shake. I’d never done this before, crossed the professional line with a client. But with Braden, it was like I wasn’t even aware it was happening until it was already over.
I finally did grab my pillow and put it over my face, ready to scream when I heard Braden’s low chuckle.
“You freaking out or something? Let me know if I need to make chocolate chip pancakes. They solve everything…” His lazy look gave me shivers.
“You should put on clothes.” I finally found my voice.
His eyes narrowed. “But do you really want me to? Because I’m pretty sure you were staring mighty hard for the last three minutes while I pretended to be asleep.”
“Ass!” I threw my pillow at him but lost my balance and went tumbling off the couch, landing directly on top of him.
“That’s better. Why didn’t I think of that?” he whispered, running his hands down my back and clenching my ass. I could feel his erection through the blanket, and I was one hundred percent hating my job at the moment.
Wasn’t there a song called Sexual Healing? I mean if a song’s been made about it, it must be true, right?
I groaned and laid my head on his chest. “I’m pretty sure if my boss knew I was straddling you, I’d be fired.”
“And I’m pretty sure if you stopped, I would fire you. So…that leaves us with you, straddling me and giving me my favorite good morning hug.”
I squeezed a biceps muscle. “You’re impossible.”
“Thank you.” He kissed the top of my head. “So, what torture do you have in store for me today? More glitter dicks? Another eulogy—that was cold, by the way—or are you finally changing your ways, leaving your uptight pantsuits at home and ready for some fun?”
I yawned. “I’ll make you a deal. Participate today, and later, we’ll do something fun.”
“Fun of the sexual variety, or fun like video games? I’m a guy. You gotta make it pretty black and white because my brain is definitely not thinking about Donkey Kong. Then again…”
I burst out laughing and lifted my head. “I promise it’s going to be fun, and it will also be a learning experience. As to the rest of it, play your cards right and you may just get to hold my hand.”