In a primitive way that needed no words, he possessed her. He captured her mouth in a searing kiss, and they came at the exact same moment.
A wild energy rocked through her. She’d met all of his Dominant demands with every part of herself, holding nothing back.
Then, after a final shudder claimed him, he rolled to the side and tucked her against him. “You’re mine, sweet Lizzie. Make no mistake.”
His words rocked her. She was certain he meant what he said at that moment, while blinded by the heat of passion.
No doubt he said them to every woman he bedded. But that didn’t stop her from tucking them away so she could replay them again later.
When Braden snuggled her close, she gave herself over to him, determined to enjoy their remaining moments together. In a few hours, she would go back to her real life and force herself to forget him.
Chapter Six
“How about dinner tonight, Lizzie?”
Oh God. Yes. No. She’d been hoping and fearing that he would ask. This was the moment she’d been dreading. Since she couldn’t find the strength to respond, she remained silent.
This morning, she’d awakened in his bed, trapped in the comfort of his arms. And she hadn’t wanted to move.
She expected to feel some embarrassment from the night before, but she hadn’t. Instead, she was at peace in a way she hadn’t been for years. Having sex, scening with him, had been inevitable, at least for her. From the moment she’d been in his closet and discovered he was a Dominant, she’d wanted to experience everything he had to offer.
Knowing she had to protect herself, she’d slipped from his arms and escaped to the closet. By the time he threw back the sheet and sat up, she was dressed and ready to leave.
Braden dragged his hand through his hair in apparent confusion before suggesting they go out to breakfast. Politely she refused, saying she had a lot to get done since she’d spent all of Saturday helping her mother prepare for the party.
Even though she would have preferred to go home before coffee, he popped a couple of frozen waffles in the toaster oven. Those she wanted. Her mother had made them, and they were Lizzie’s favorite. She was tempted to text her mom and ask for a stash of her own. But that would mean admitting she was at Braden’s house.
After eating, she picked up her phone to arrange for a ride, but Braden had been adamant that he was taking her home. His arms were folded, and it wasn’t worth the argument.
The drive to her downtown house took under fifteen minutes, and the conversation in his luxury SUV was awkward. At the curb, she thanked him for the ride, then all but leaped out of the vehicle and hurried up the sidewalk.
She shouldn’t have been surprised when he followed.
“Lizzie?”
With a trembling hand, she stuck the key in the lock, but she refused to turn it. If she opened the door, she might weaken and invite him in. Instead, standing there on the stoop, she turned back to face him.
“There’s a seafood restaurant that Rafe recommends. I’m sure I can get reservations. How’s seven?”
“I’m sorry, Braden.” She shook her head even as she told herself there was nothing to apologize for. He was merely going through the polite formalities that happened after he slept with a woman.
Or maybe he meant it when he said he wanted to see her again. Perhaps he’d enjoyed the sex as much as she did and actually did want to hook up again.
But she had her rules about relationships. Career first. Men second, and then only if they were interested in something long-term. And his reputation proved he was not. Seeing the world’s most scandalous billionaire again would no doubt lead to certain—and maybe unrecoverable—heartbreak.
“Lizzie—”
“Don’t.” She offered a weak smile that faded as quickly as it formed. “Please. I enjoyed it, Braden. Really. But…”
“But?”
Wishing he would leave didn’t magically make him disappear. “Can’t we leave it at this? We had a nice evening—”
“Nice?”
She swallowed. “It was great. Okay?” Lizzie was stumbling all over her words. “Going out, like on a date, is a bad idea.”
Like he had earlier in the day, he folded his arms, making him bigger, more intimidating, and damn it, more appealing too. Today he wore jeans and a tight T-shirt that showed off his strong arms, making her remember the way he’d captured her and spanked her.
“You want to fuck instead?”
Oh God. “No! That’s not what I said.” Intentionally he was twisting her words.
“You came for me, multiple times. You slept in my arms the entire night. What happened between last night and this morning?”
Lizzie glanced around to be sure none of the neighbors were watching. She didn’t want to have a scene here, but she still refused to invite him in. Braden, on the other hand, seemed not to give a damn about anything other than getting the answers he wanted. “Look, not everything needs to be discussed. Let’s agree to be friends. We can pretend it never happened.”
“Absolutely no fucking way, Lizzie. It happened. I’m taking responsibility for it, and so are you.”
“Agreed.” She gave him a second smile, this one so wide and fake that it hurt her face. “Responsibility taken.” Her voice cracked. “Thank you for a great experience.”
“I’d like an explanation. What did I do wrong?”
Nothing. In fact, he’d done everything right. His behavior was perfect, so smooth that he’d obviously spent years practicing it.
“Talk to me, Lizzie.” Then he refolded his arms, the gesture a little uncertain, as if he wasn’t certain exactly what to do.
More than anything, that got to her. Maybe if she was honest with him, he’d show her some mercy and not contact her again. “I’m not going to be one of your numerous women, Braden.”
“What the…” His nostrils flared and his biceps bulged, as if he was fighting back anger. “Is that what you think?”
Shocked by his reaction, she blinked.
When he spoke again, his voice was sharp with accusation. “You’re fucking making that up.”
“No. I’m not. And I resent your implication that I’m lying.” Anger raced through her, but she wouldn’t slow down to take a breath. Instead, she rushed on. “I’ve seen what happens to the women you’re involved with. You…you fuck them in the back of limousines and then smile for the cameras when you’re caught. I won’t have my name dragged through the muck in the gossip rags. I have to work for a living. I have a job that matters to me, one that I can’t lose. My reputation matters.”
He took a step toward her, but she stood her ground.
Convincing herself that she needed to end this was as difficult as convincing him. “More than anyone you should understand that I’m not from your world. Secret societies, scandalous liaisons that don’t have real-world consequences.”
Finally she drew that much-needed gulp of air. “You probably know that my dad abandoned us. My mom spent most of her time at your house, and I saw how many hours she worked to take care of me. She made endless sacrifices. We lived with family members, and the two of us shared a bedroom.” Lizzie forced herself to go on. “I swore I wouldn’t make bad choices when it came to men. I don’t date a lot, and I never have casual sex. I’m not willing to settle for anything less than total commitment from any man.” Tears built in her eyes, but she refused to spill them. “Last night meant something to me. And that’s why it can’t happen again. I can’t be number six thousand on your list of one-night stands.” Fuck, fuck. Don’t cry. Do not cry.
“You know, Lizzie”—his voice was low, dangerously so—“I’m damn tired of you insulting me. The other day, you intimated that I would fire your mother because you were in my closet.” He leaned toward her, so close that she could feel the heat that came off him in waves. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about me. Yeah. You’re right that I’ve made mistakes. A pile of them that I regret. But sleeping with you is not among t
hem. And you’re wrong—so very wrong—if you think it meant nothing to me.”
She wanted to believe him, but she couldn’t take a risk that he wasn’t being truthful. After all, he had a reputation. He knew women. He knew her.
“You’re special, Lizzie. What we shared was spectacular, and so was the trust you placed in me. I want to take you out—see where this goes, give you a chance to see for yourself who I really am instead of believing salacious narrative crafted by the paparazzi. Fuck it all. I deserve it. We deserve it.”
“I’m…” Tempted. So very tempted. But she couldn’t take a chance on being ensnared in his web with no way out.
While she was still able, Lizzie turned away. While she fumbled with the lock, he made no move to help her.
Finally, the tumblers fell into place.
“Lizzie, please.”
“Goodbye, Braden.” She dashed inside and slammed the door closed. With a flick of her wrist, she slid the deadbolt into place before collapsing against the wall and letting her tears fall in a rush of anguish.
Braden had never allowed himself to get stupid over a woman. He didn’t drown his sorrows, never mourned the loss of a relationship.
But this time was different.
This time the woman in question was Lizzie.
And he was no longer on top of his game.
Rafe had arrived at the downtown bar near Buffalo Bayou several minutes ahead of Braden. He’d already chained up his bike and removed his helmet when Braden rode up.
“Pull a muscle or something?” Rafe asked.
Braden ignored the question. He’d poked at Rafe in the past when he was first smitten with Hope. Now that things were different, Braden wasn’t as jovial.
After securing his own bike and unfastening the strap beneath his chin, he followed Rafe inside the bar. The host waved them in when they said they wanted their usual table on the patio.
Fans hung from the overhead beams, and the blades churned through the humid late-afternoon air.
“Business problems?” Rafe asked when they both had cold glasses of beer in front of them.
“No.” That was fine. “Better than usual.” Maybe because of the hours he’d been putting in. Generally he took a few evenings off a week, but since Lizzie had closed the door in his face almost a month ago, he’d worked eighteen hours a day, and twenty on several occasions.
Rafe took a drink and waited.
Irritated, Braden slammed his glass onto a coaster. “What’s to say there’s something wrong?”
“Besides your riding speed and the fact your eyeballs look like you dragged them across sandpaper?” Rafe took a drink. “Or perhaps it’s your general asshole-ish attitude. If we wanted that, we could have invited Jax.”
Jaxon Mills was an internet marketing guru, and Braden didn’t understand the man’s appeal. Asshole was a great word for him. His staunchest allies said he was blunt, even to the point of rudeness—but that he was only being honest and telling people what they needed to hear. Some called him a motherfucker. Still, people who did as he ordered tended to have extraordinary success. He had some sort of intuition that the rest of the planet lacked. And recently, he’d taken a mighty fall from the sacred bachelorhood platform. Of course, he’d done it in Jaxon style, telling the entire world Willow was the world’s greatest woman. He ranted about how fortunate he was and how his recent marriage was the best in the history of the planet.
“Gonna tell me about it? Or should we just stare at one another as we get drunk?”
This was tricky. Lizzie was more than just the woman he was obsessed with—she was one of Rafe’s most important employees.
“It’s under lock and key.”
The reference to the bond shared by the members of the Zeta Society reassured him. “It’s Lizzie.”
“Ah.” Rafe took a long drink.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“She asked to be transferred after the Uptown Sterling opens. Makes more sense now.”
“She…” Braden put down the glass he’d just picked up.
“You didn’t know?”
How the hell would he? She hadn’t taken his calls, and her mother didn’t talk about her, even when he asked. “She’s not interested in me.”
“That’s not the impression I had when I saw you two together at your grandparents’ party.”
That was true. The chemistry they shared was combustible. “Seems my reputation is a problem for her.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“The fuck does that mean?” Braden scowled.
“If a man has changed, how would the woman he wants know that? How could she trust it?”
“Roses?”
“Works with some.” Rafe shrugged. “I tried it myself. Painful experience. You ever been in a flower shop? Once is enough.” He took another fortifying drink. “But would the woman in question think he’s just trying to get back in her good graces?”
Was that what he’d be trying to do?
She’d accused him of being a philanderer. And maybe that was true. Or it had been, until her. From the moment they reconnected, something had changed in him. Lizzie wasn’t like any other woman. She was honest, and she’d hidden none of her reactions from him. But there was more. Lizzie was authentic. Over the years, they’d spent hours talking at the kitchen counter. In all that time, she’d never changed. Instead, she’d blossomed into more of who she was. He admired her determination to hold on to that.
“Can you blame her?”
“What?” Braden shook his head to bring himself back to the conversation.
“Some women don’t want flowers or pretty words. They need commitment.”
Lizzie had been absolutely clear about that.
Rafe signaled for the server to bring them another round. “There’s a tradeoff. Always.”
“My parents. Yours. Fuck, even Jaxon’s.” Rafe’s dad had taken off with a younger woman, almost wrecking the family business. Jaxon had grown up in such a screwed-up, dysfunctional house that it was amazing he was even halfway normal.
“No one would blame you if you keep doing what you’re doing.”
Their fresh drinks arrived. As Braden picked up his glass, he studied Rafe. “You happy?”
“Yeah.” Rafe took a long drag from his glass. “Never thought I wanted to be married, but…” He met Braden’s eyes as he shrugged. “Here I am. I like having a partner, someone to talk to. It’s nice waking up next to her.”
Nice wasn’t a word Braden used a lot. But damn it, having Lizzie in his arms every morning would be spectacular.
“And there’s her damn cat.” Rafe grinned stupidly.
“A cat?” Seriously? “A cat?”
“The Colonel. Though she may be due for a promotion soon. She’s even more bossy than ever.”
“An actual real life cat?” What in the actual hell had happened to his friend. “Earth to Rafe.”
“I’ll give it to you straight.” Rafe managed to stop grinning. “Being with a woman who has your back?” He shook his head. “Makes everything worthwhile. My friend, you need to choose your path. Do you want to walk it alone?”
The conversation turned to business, the Astros baseball team, then to football. After nachos and street tacos, they said their goodbyes. Rafe was going straight home while Braden wanted to work off some of his tension.
Hours later, he was forced to admit the exercise hadn’t helped.
“Do you want to go with me to my aunt’s this evening?” Lizzie asked Crystal after they collapsed on the patio of a local restaurant, following their latest outing. Because Lizzie had been so distraught since she left Braden’s home, she’d kept herself occupied with yoga and working out with her trainer. And she’d gone shopping more times than she cared to count.
“Oh my God. Tell me it’s not Triple T night.”
“Yeah. It is.” For Lizzie, it was likely to be heavy on the tequila.
“I knew I shouldn’t have pro
crastinated on my chores. I love your aunt’s tacos.”
“You might be able to talk Aunt Virginia into giving you a to-go box, and then you wouldn’t have to worry about tomorrow’s lunch. That would save you some time.”
“Damn, girl. You know how to tempt me.”
“But no, right?” The truth was, Lizzie would appreciate her friend providing a distraction. Her mother had noticed Lizzie’s listlessness and the tears in her eyes each time she held Sandra’s newborn. Lizzie always managed to make her getaway before Mom could corner her, but earlier Eileen texted to say she wanted to talk. Lizzie’s time was up. And she had no idea what she was going to say.
“Is your man still calling you?”
“Braden Gallaher is not my man!”
Crystal leaned forward. “But you want him to be.”
“That’s not true.”
“Oh, girl. You’re lyin’ and you know it.” Crystal grinned.
“Fine.” Her friend was right, even if Lizzie didn’t want to admit it. “Yes. I’ve heard from him.” Twice, he’d sent flowers to her office. She’d promptly put them on the front desk for others to enjoy and so that she didn’t have to think about him every time she looked at them or inhaled their fragrance.
“So what’s the problem? Is he ugly?”
“No.” She shook her head with a grin. “Definitely not. A full-on hottie.”
Crystal picked up a napkin and waved it in front of her face. After they both succumbed to a round of giggles, she tried again. “Okay… He has to be craptacular in bed, right?”
“No!”
“Ha! So you did sleep with him!”
Instead of answering, Lizzie looked away to hide her embarrassment.
“Still not seeing what the problem is. Oh, wait! He’s unemployed. Bastard needs to get a job.”
“He’s loaded.” In the days right after he took her home, she’d spent hours doing research about him. She learned Braden hadn’t followed his dad into the family business, but rather, he went to work for a brokerage firm, then started his own company when he attained a seven-figure income.
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