It’s when he handles those kinds of calls that I’m particularly proud of Brandon. It’s at those moments that I get to see how he must have been with me, when I was too out of myself to appreciate it. I get to see how kind and loving he is; how patient and warm he is. How dependable and strong he is. And how easily these people relax, get a grip and make a plan to get better. To get well, and to blossom.
It’s through doing this full-time charity work that I’ve actually learned to love it here in Albuquerque, despite all of the bad memories that happen here in the past. Losing my dad, almost losing Brandon. But all that is overshadowed now.
I’m thinking about all this as I’m getting William ready for bed. I’m putting him in his onesie — his favorite with dinosaurs on it. Stegosaurus, T Rex to be exact. As I put him in it, he makes a little roaring noise, and makes his hands like T Rex.
“Yes, roar! Oh, what a terrifying dinosaur you are, William!” I give him little love bites and kisses. Make noises like I’m eating him as I do, and he giggles. “But it’s time for all little good dinosaurs to go to bed. To get their sleep, so that they’re good at terrorizing other dinosaurs in the morning!”
With this, I lay William down in his crib, tuck them under the blanket and sheets, and give him his favorite plushy. Yes, it’s another dinosaur. A velociraptor. His favorite part is the big claw. He likes to hold that. Sometimes suck on it.
“Sleep well, baby,” I whisper, giving him a kiss. “Mama loves you.”
At this, he fusses a little bit. Particularly when I walk away from the crib, and turn the light off, but he settles down once he hears Brandon. He’s just said I love you, and is taking me out of the room and quietly close the door.
Once we’re out and away from his room, Brandon hugs me around the waist kisses me. He nibbles the back of my neck, and walks me into the living room. “Now that the little tyke’s asleep, you and I can get to some long overdue time together.” He gives me another kiss, but this one starts a chain down my shoulders and back. Down my spine. As he kisses, he begins to undress me. Pants and underwear first, believe it or not.
Before I know it — I’m too busy reaching around to kiss and fondle him while walking the same time — I’m in the living room. The fire has already been built in the hearth. It’s a nice warm glow.
“I was thinking we could get to work on baby number two tonight,” says Brandon, laying me down on the floor. As he does, he peels off my shirt and my bra, immediately putting his mouth on my breasts. My nipples. And the reaction is instantaneous. The minute I feel his lips on me, I’m wet. I’m ready for him.
“Sounds like a plan to me,” I say, sighing in pleasure, and moaning of it as he runs his big hands down my tummy and into my pussy. “But why stop at making baby number two? Why not go for three?”
This gets Brandon to press his mouth on mine, and free his cock from his pants. Already erect, I can see it shining softly in the firelight. “Let’s do this.”
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Hold Onto Me is a standalone novel in the inter-connected Bradford Brothers series. The rest of this series is included as bonus books for your continued reading enjoyment, so that you can read the stories of Harlow and Whitney, Jensen and Riley, and all the rest!
SEAL's Virgin: A Bad Boy Military Romance
Copyright © 2017 by Juliana Conners; All Rights Reserved.
Published by Sizzling Hot Reads
Chapter 1 — Riley
Okay, I can do this. I can have an orgasm.
I lie back on my bed, feeling stupid. This is definitely not how I'd expected to start off my morning. But my friend Brynn had dared me to try it, after last night had turned out a lot more disappointing than I'd expected.
I was supposed to go on a date with my boyfriend Charles but he never called. He'd been at a golf tournament with some clients of our law firm and he'd texted me at around eight o'clock p.m. to say that the "entertainment" of said clients was running late.
So, I'd called Brynn and she'd told me come over for a bottle of merlot. Of course I went right over, since I had nothing better to do and since Brynn is my BFF. Also, because I needed wine.
"I really thought Charles might be the one I’d lose my virginity to," I'd confessed to Brynn.
Brynn's one of the few people who know that I still have my virginity. We've been friends for a long time and she’s never teased me about it like the few others had when they'd first found out.
"Now I'm thinking that's a lost cause. Just like the few other boyfriends I've had, he's just not special enough. He'd rather blow me off than… let me blow him."
Brynn had laughed and then said, "I think that's your problem, Riley. You want your first time to be so special, with 'the right guy.' You should just let loose and go with it, see what happens."
"With Charles?" I'd asked her, scrunching up my nose skeptically.
She shrugged.
"Well, if you guys can work out whatever's been going on with you this time around, then maybe. Although, it seems like maybe you both know it's time to call it quits, but neither of you wants to be the one to push the 'End’ button."
"Again," I’d added her to her statement. "Neither of us want to be the one to push the 'End' button once again, after we've re-started it so many times."
Charles and I had broken up so often it wasn't even funny. I don't even know why we keep trying. Except that his dad, Jack Holt, is the founding partner of our law firm, and pressures him to stay with a "rising star" at the firm, such as myself. He thinks my ambitious attitude will rub off on his son, who would rather play video games than write briefs.
"When I really face the truth, Charles and I are together for all the wrong reasons," I'd confessed to Brynn. "I used to think he only stayed with me because his dad wanted him to, and that's probably true. But then, why do I stay with him when he keeps ditching me for better plans? I suppose I like that the founding partner of the firm wants me to be dating his son. I'm afraid I won't be able to stand on my own two feet without him propping me up."
"Don't be ridiculous," Brynn had said. "You've always been a straight-A student. You’ve worked so hard on all your cases and you've more than earned your place at the firm. But I think change is just hard. It's easier to stay with the wrong person than take a step to be alone or find someone better."
"Yeah," I'd sighed, downing the rest of my wine.
Brynn had happily poured me another glass. And that’s why I love her.
"If you're going to break up with him, do it soon, so you can lose your virginity to someone else," Brynn then said, in her no- nonsense way. "And in the meantime, at least treat yourself to a mind-blowing orgasm."
I'd just looked at her, before finally finding the nerve to confess a secret even worse than the fact that I'm still a virgin.
"I… don't exactly know how to do that, either," I'd finally said.
"What?" she'd exclaimed, her eyes growing wide. "You don't masturbate?"
"It's not that I never have," I'd told her. "I just… haven't had the best luck so I don't get what it's all about."
"Girl, you've got to be kidding me," she'd said, standing up.
She went over to her bedside table, pulled something out of a drawer, and came back.
"Here," she said, handing me a silver, egg-shaped contraction wrapped in plastic. "Don't ever say I never gave you anything."
"What is this?"
I'd held the egg in my hand, realizing that I had an idea what it was, but feeling rather embarrassed.
"It's a
magic bullet," she'd said. "Your own personal vibrator. Don't worry— I haven't used it. I just ordered a new one from Simple Pleasures because I wore my old one out. That’s how much I masturbate. And it’ll be hard not to have another one for a little while. But for you, I can wait and order a new one."
"Oh, my God," I'd said, blushing. "I can't believe you just have these things laying around."
"Whatever," she'd said, rolling her eyes at my innocence, as usual. "There are entire sex toy parties based off these things now. I'm hardly the only woman in America with a vibrator— or six— in my bedside stand."
"Six?"
"Riley," she'd told me, shaking her head. "Just try it. You'll love it. I promise."
So here I am. After way too much wine and too little sleep, I'd woken up at Brynn's house at five a.m. and bolted home. I hate trying to sleep after I've had too much to drink— I always wake up early and can never go back to sleep.
After lying down in my own bed and trying to fall back asleep for a while, I gave up. There's still half an hour before I have to start getting ready for work, so I take the "magic bullet" out of my purse and stare at it.
This is really it. My first orgasm. Here it comes.
I lie back on my pillow and spread my legs. I hit the "on" switch and put the vibrator up to my clit.
Mmmmm. That does feel good…
It hums against me, cold and metallic as it works its magic. I suppose it’s aptly named. I still feel silly getting so up close and personal with an inanimate object. I decide to think about Charles.
But I can't. After trying to picture him, all I can think of is the text he’d sent me last night, which had let me know once again exactly how unimportant I am to him. Not to mention the fact that he’d never followed up with another text.
How I wish I could be with a different guy— one who appreciates me and who wants me to be pleasured. Not just someone who is with me because his dad wants him to be. Because he's used to life being handed to him on a silver platter and to doing whatever Daddy wants, to make Daddy happy and his own life easier.
I can't think about that right now, though. I have an orgasm to accomplish.
Instead, I try to conjure up images of celebrities I think are hot. Muscular, toned guys— strong and courageous and not afraid to take risks. The exact opposite of Charles.
Finally, I feel a tingling down below. It feels like a small current of electricity. I draw my breath in, waiting for something more.
But nothing else comes.
I stop the vibrator.
Was that it?
Damn it. I don’t even know.
I was expecting erupting fireworks, but that was just a little fizz.
I should keep going. Try again.
I know that if Brynn was here she'd be saying, "Don't give up. You deserve this."
But it's time to get ready for work. At least I felt something. It was a step in the right direction.
I wash the vibrator and open the drawer of my bathroom sink to put it away. I place it inside an old makeup bag that has a bright red and turquoise elephant print on it, and then, just for good measure, I cover it up with a tin box that holds barrettes. If for some reason any guest ever needs to use this bathroom, hopefully they’ll never find my dirty little secret.
I'll have to try it again another time. Maybe it's one of those things I'll get better at with practice.
For now, it's time to go to work, and see Charles, and start dealing with things I'm not sure I'm ready to deal with.
The tough guys I was thinking of just a moment ago are only for fantasy. My real life awaits.
Chapter 2 – Riley
When I get to work, Charles is nowhere to be found. I try to nonchalantly meander on over to his office to look for him, but a fellow associate named Trina stops me before I can even get there.
"Looking for Charles?" she asks, grinning.
Damn it.
She is so not the person I want to see right now. She's always had a crush on Charles and I'm sure she's taking great pleasure in the fact that I'm unsuccessfully trying to track him down.
"I just needed to talk to him about a case," I say quickly, defensively, as if I had indeed seen or at least spoken to my boyfriend last night as planned, and just need to talk business this morning.
"I see," she says, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow to show she doesn't believe me. "Well, I doubt he'll be in any time before noon. We had quite the night last night."
"You—?"
I trail off, trying not to sound surprised.
What is she talking about?
"Oh yeah, after the Westin Invitational— it's a shame you don't golf, by the way; it's a great way for female associates to be able to woo clients just like the male associates do, and there are some real hotties on the course as well— we took some clients to Closed Door."
She laughs, as if she had just told me that she and my boyfriend had taken clients shopping at Walmart, rather than to the seediest strip club in town.
"Oh, he didn't tell you?" she asks, with pity, reading the look on my face.
From the way she’s smirking at me, I can tell she suspected I didn’t know, and that she’s happy to have her suspicions confirmed.
"I—"
I begin, but I don't really have anything to say. I'm completely taken off guard.
"It's okay," she says, her lip pouting as if trying to be friendly. "I know a lot of— girlfriends— is that what you still are to him?— aren't into the strip club scene so he probably didn't want to hurt your feelings and tell you. I left at about midnight because I had to finish up the Colvert case briefing but he was still partying hard with a few of the clients and a lot of the dancers. That's why I'm betting he won't be in any time soon. Not that he has to— being the boss' son and all, you know?"
"Thanks for letting me know," I tell her, as if I'm truly grateful when clearly I'm not.
I'm about to tell her I have a lot to do this morning anyway, so I'll just catch him this afternoon. But suddenly it hits me. I'm sick of taking crap from other people about my "relationship" with Charles.
"I'm sure his dad will be happy to hear that you guys were keeping the clients entertained," I tell her, with a grin as fake as the one she was just flashing at me.
"Oh, I don't think there's any reason to fill him in on that," she says, with a nervous giggle.
Jack Holt likes when his son entertains clients but there’s no doubt he wouldn’t approve of the strip club aspect of last night’s entertainment. He’s notorious for saying his son lacks judgment and decency sometimes. Trina and I both know that Jack would not be happy to hear about their exploits last night.
As if on cue, Jack’s secretary Cindy rounds the corner. Jack Holt has assistants that will track down anyone he needs, at any time, but when Cindy—who has been with him for over twenty years and is his main secretary who can’t usually be bothered to do such dirty work— is looking for an associate, we know it’s serious business.
"Oh, there you are, Riley," she says, shaking her head nervously. "Mr. Holt has been looking for you. He would like to talk to you in Conference Room B."
Trina looks scared, so I wink at her, as if to tell her I'll be filling in Mr. Holt on everything.
Secretly, though, I'm just as scared as Cindy looks. Cindy coming to get me can only mean that Jack wants to do my evaluation today, and from the nervous look on Cindy’s face, I can tell it won't be completely smooth sailing.
Today just keeps going from bad to worse.
Chapter 3 – Riley
I take a deep breath and then knock on the door of the conference room and Mr. Holt nods at me.
"Come in, Riley," he says, as if I've wasted his time by having his secretary look for me, when I didn't even know I was supposed to be here.
I was aware that there was a round of associate evaluations coming up but I didn't know when exactly mine would be. The partners like to do it this way, to keep us guessing. They’ve definitely
achieved that purpose.
“Good morning, Mr. Holt,” I say to him, but he just nods at me without answering.
I look around, remembering when I first interviewed for this job in this very conference room. And how I was so excited when I found out I had gotten it. I was so naïve back then, thinking it would be a picnic, when sometimes it's more like Hell.
I’m supposedly an up and coming lawyer at this law firm of Holt, Mason and Davis. My goal has been to make partner within the next couple of years. And I think I’ve achieved my goal so far, since I’m not only on the partnership track but according to my bi-annual evaluations, I’m doing sprints around all my fellow associates.
Except for Charles, of course. But he doesn’t have to make much of an effort, considering that he’s Jack Holt's son.
Now that I realize the stringent requirements that exist for everyone except Charles, I'm beginning to wonder if my career is really as secure as I used to think it was. It doesn't seem as if interviewing and getting the job is cutting it anymore. Instead, all associates are subject to strict evaluations and "suggestions" for improvement.
I'm beginning to wonder if I can ever possibly keep up with all the hoops they make associates jump through, or if they even have any intention of making us partners. Maybe their goal is to just find reasons we're not good enough so they can string us along as billable hour drones for seven years before cutting us loose to go work at some second-rate insurance defense firm.
"I'm going to keep this performance evaluation short and sweet, Riley," Mr. Holt says, as soon as I sit down, without bothering with any kind of standard pleasantries first. “Your billable hours are great, your work is solid, your networking is as expected."
I nod, glad that all my hard work is being recognized.
“But your pro bono hours are not on track with the other associates’, and the only misgivings expressed by any partner have related to your fit here with the firm," he continues, making me feel crestfallen.
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