Redemption

by R. R. Banks

  Still – there are times when he looks at me or says something that makes me think there could be more there. Something underneath the surface. There's some small piece of me that genuinely wonders if he could actually be into me.

  It's unlikely. It's probably even highly doubtful. But still, those thoughts persist and I'm left to question whether it's a product of wishful thinking or because it's true.

  “We're home,” he says.

  The driver opens the door and we slide out, Brady carrying a limp and sleeping Nicholas up the short set of stairs to the front door of the house. The door opens before we get there and I see Miss Delia standing there with a smile on her face.

  “Looks like somebody had a big day,” she says.

  Brady nods. “He was out before we even left the park.”

  “Bless his heart,” she says.

  “Amanda, why don't you go grab a drink and I'll meet you on the back deck,” he says. “I want to go put Nicholas to bed.”

  I nod and follow Miss Delia out to the back deck, as instructed. “What can I get you to drink, dear?” she asks.

  “Oh, water will be fine,” I say. “Thank you.”

  She nods and disappears back into the house. The sky overhead is dark and there's a bit of a chill in the air, but it feels wonderful. A moment later, Miss Delia appears and hands me a glass with some ice water in it.

  “Thank you,” I say and take a drink.

  Miss Delia stands there looking at me, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. The way she's standing there reminds me of somebody holding on to a secret they're just bursting to tell.

  “What is it, Miss Delia?” I ask.

  “Brady really likes you.”

  “I hope so,” I say, knowing I have to play my role. “I'm – pretty fond of him as well.”

  “You're the first woman he's ever introduced to Nicholas,” she says. “He's always so careful about that.”

  “Nicholas is a great kid,” I say.

  “He is,” she replies. “He's a very special little boy.”

  I give her a smile and take another drink of water. As I stand there, I can't help but feel like Miss Delia is taking my measure. That she's weighing me, judging my worth and my value. It feels a lot like how it would feel to have an overprotective mother eyeballing me. And I realize that she's as protective about Brady as she is Nicholas.

  “You know,” she says. “I've known Brady since he was a little boy. I probably know him better than he knows himself. And I can tell you that he seems to really like you.”

  I give her a smile. “And what makes you say that?”

  “The way he talks about you. But mostly, the way he looks at you,” she replies. “Especially when you're not looking. He just seems to have this look of adoration on his face that I don't think I've ever seen.”

  “Thank you for telling me that,” I say as heat rushes into my cheeks.

  “Of course,” she replies, and then whispers conspiratorially, “we girls have to stick together and look out for one another in this man's world, don't we?”

  I laugh and nod as she turns and walks back into the house. What she's saying makes my breath catch in my throat. I've been operating under the assumption that we're doing our best to sell this illusion of our impending marriage. That we're creating a detailed and intricate facade – a fact that was underscored by him telling me he had his personal assistant anonymously tip off the paparazzi that we'd be at the zoo today. Our first official coming out appearance.

  Because he is who he is – Brady Keating, San Antonio's most eligible and sought-after bachelor – the news that he was at the zoo with some new mystery woman drew the paparazzi there like moths to the flame. I was a little put off at first, but had to reel it back in and remember that this is a deal we struck – our relationship has to be public. Which isn't all that hard to accomplish, given the fact that he's such a public personality.

  Miss Delia, so far as I know, doesn't know about our little arrangement. Doesn't know that we're setting this all up to have a sham wedding – and that this is nothing more than a mutually beneficial relationship. So, it's possible that we're just selling this illusion incredibly well.

  But the fact that she's known him since he was a kid – and according to her, knows him better than he knows himself – makes me wonder if she's seeing something more. Something I'm not. Could Brady actually be interested in me? Is it possible?

  I shake my head, telling myself that no, it's not possible. That I'm nothing more than a business arrangement for him. A means to an end. But still, there's that nagging little voice in the back of my mind that makes me wonder. Is it the voice of pointless hope? Or the voice of my intuition – something that's rarely wrong.

  Things have been chaotic and a whirlwind in my head for a little while now and I'm beginning to doubt that I can trust myself. Especially when it comes to anything Brady-related. The man has me all twisted up like a pretzel and there are times I don't know up from down.

  “Did you have a good time today?”

  His voice cuts through the maelstrom of thoughts in my head and I turn, giving Brady a smile and he hands me a glass of champagne. I don't necessarily feel like drinking – especially since I have to drive home soon – but I feel compelled to take it anyway.

  And as the bubbly hits my tongue, I realize in that moment that everything today has been so perfect and I just want this evening to last.

  “I had an amazing time,” I reply. “Thank you, Brady. I still can't believe you rented out the entire park for us.”

  He shrugs. “I really don't like crowds.”

  “Apparently.”

  He turns to me. “I'm glad you had fun,” he says. “I had a wonderful day with you as well.”

  I'm staring into his light blue eyes, feeling my pulse quicken. We stare into each other's eyes for several long moments, a companionable silence between us. But there's something more there than a companionable feeling. Something below the surface. A feeling of anticipation. Expectation.

  And before I know what's happening, Brady leans forward and presses his lips to mine, kissing me with a feeling like burning desire.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I pull away and take a step back, stunned. The warm tingling from his lips is still upon mine and I feel lightheaded – and not from the champagne. I look at him with wide eyes and see the same expression on his face mirrored back at me.

  “I – I'm sorry,” he says weakly. “I don't know what came over me right there.”

  I shake my head. “No, it's okay,” I reply. “No need to apologize.”

  I take another sip of champagne and stare out into the darkness of the night, my heart thundering in my chest. I can't believe he kissed me. And maybe I'm just thinking like an idiot girl with a crush, but that kiss felt – different. There was a genuine passion and heat, and yet a tenderness, to it – something I never would have thought Brady could have felt for me.

  I feel dazed. Confused. But also, something more. Something I can't place or define. I feel like the high, thick walls I've constructed inside of myself have started to crack, to crumble, and I don't know what to do. Let them crumble and give myself over to him? Or take a step back and reinforce them somehow?

  Business arrangement? Or genuine feeling? Those questions – and the emotions that come with them – continue to swirl in my head leaving me feeling dizzy.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  I nod but don't say anything. I drain the rest of the glass of champagne and try to quell the storm of emotions inside of me. I turn to Brady and find him looking at me, a strange look upon his face. All at once, a powerful wave of emotion surges up within me. And before I can stop to think about it, I close the distance between us and kiss him.

  He seems shocked at first and the kiss is hesitant, but the awkwardness quickly fades and the kiss becomes more intense. More passionate. Our tongues swirl and dance together as he runs his hands through my hair, gently pulling
on it. I press my body to his and feel his cock, already stiff, press against my belly. It ignites a fire between my thighs and sends a rush of tingles through my body.

  I take a step back and laugh to myself. Brady lifts my chin with his fingers and stares into my eyes.

  “What is it? Are you okay?” he asks.

  I nod. “I was just – it's just been a long time since I've been with anybody,” I admit, not meeting his eyes. “And I guess there's part of me wondering if I still know what to do.”

  He laughs. “Don't worry about a thing, sugar,” he says, his Texas drawl pouring over my body like the sweetest honey. “We'll figure it out as we go.”

  He takes my hand and leads me into the house. We're walking softly across the wood floor and I can't help but feel like two teenagers sneaking into the house after curfew. We head up the staircase and Brady leads me down the hall to the bedroom at the end and I have to stifle my giggling.

  Brady gives me a smile as he shuts the door behind us. Walking into the room, I feel my eyes grow wide and a gasp escapes my lips.

  “This is – your bedroom?” I ask.

  He nods. “It used to belong to my folks, but after they died, I moved into it.”

  I turn a circle in the room, taking it all in. It's enormous. It's probably bigger than my whole apartment. And done in dark woods, and deep, rich greens, it is elegant. There's a sense of peace and tranquility that saturates the air in here.

  “This room is amazing,” I say. “I can live in it.”

  He smiles. “You're more than welcome to.”

  Pulling me to him, Brady kisses me. This time, there's no hesitation. My body melts against his and his hands circle my waist. Our kissing grows more intense driven by passion, desire, and need. The fire inside of me is burning hotter than the sun and all of my inhibitions seem to melt away.

  I'm fumbling with the belt buckle on his pants when he stops me. I look up at him questioningly.

  “Are you sure?” he asks. “About – this. I just don't want you having any regrets.”

  My heart feels like it's about to burst and those walls inside of me are crumbling so fast, I don't know that I can even stop them at this point. Giving him a seductive little smile, I rub his hard cock through his pants.

  “I'm sure,” I say, my voice husky. “No regrets.”

  He smiles and takes his hat off, tossing it onto the dresser against the wall. I raise my arms and let him slip the sundress off over my head, leaving me standing there in my bra and panties. There is a momentary flash of awkwardness that shoots through me, but Brady looks at me like a work of art. His eyes are wide and they roam every inch of my body, taking me all in and making me feel like the sexiest woman he's ever seen.

  As he watches, I slowly unhook my bra and let it fall to the floor. Next, I slide my panties down over my hips and push them down my legs. I step out of them and stand before him completely naked. There is an indescribable look upon his face, but the raw hunger in his eyes is undeniable. No man has ever looked at me the way Brady is, and it makes me wetter than I think I've ever been.

  Brady takes his boots off as I step forward and finally manage to unbuckle his belt. Then I get his pants unbuttoned and push them down his legs. I unbutton his shirt as he kicks his pants off, sending them flying across the room. When he's naked and I get my first look at him, I feel my heart begin to race.

  He's toned and firm in all the right places. Brady is well muscled, but not in that overbulked, steroid sort of a way. I can tell that his physique is from hard work. He's lean and trim, but also ripped. I run my fingertips along his stomach and feel him shudder beneath my touch. I kiss his chest, the tip of my tongue circling his nipple as I slide my hand down and take his firm, thick cock in my hand.

  I squeeze it good and hard at the base, making him gasp. But he moans in pleasure when I start to run my hand up and down his shaft. I give him a flirty little smile as I slip down to me knees. But then Brady surprises me by taking me by the shoulders and standing me up again.

  He shakes his head and a small smile touches his lips. “No, tonight is all about you, Amanda.”

  He kisses me and guides me back to the bed, sitting me down on the edge of it. Brady gets down on his knees before me and pushes me backward so that I'm laying down. I look down at him as Brady parts my thighs, giving me a flirty little smile. He lowers his head and the rush of sensation that hits me in that moment makes me scream.

  He looks up at me with wide eyes and I bite my bottom lip. “Sorry,” I whisper. “I just – sorry.”

  He smiles and shakes his head, lowering his head down again. The feeling of his tongue tracing my lips, sliding into me, and then teasing my clit is overpowering. It's incredible. Brady plunges his tongue deep into me and I cry out again. Reaching up, I grab one of his pillows and put it over my face to keep from making too much noise – the last thing I want is to wake Nicholas up.

  Brady takes my clit into his mouth, sucking and nibbling on it as he slides a finger inside of me. Moving it in and out, he licks and sucks on me harder and faster. I'm biting his pillow and doing all I can to keep from crying out, but damn, it's difficult. The way Brady is moving his tongue and mouth on me, in me, is driving me absolutely crazy.

  He sucks harder on my clit at the same time he drives his finger deep inside of my pussy and that's it for me. I feel my body tense up and the pressure that had been building up low within me explodes. My body bucks and thrashes as I cry out his name, an orgasm more powerful than anything I've ever felt before, tearing through me.

  I grab his hair and push his face down into me, grinding myself against him as wave after wave of sensation rolls through my body. Slowly, the sensations begin to fade and I'm able to catch my breath again. Brady gives me a smile.

  “You taste amazing, darlin',” he says.

  “Get up here.”

  “Yes ma'am.”

  I slide up onto the bed a little further and Brady climbs on top of me. I wrap my legs around his waist and kiss him hard. Passionately. His mouth is still wet with my juices, so I run my tongue all around.

  “You're right,” I purr. “I do taste amazing.”

  He chuckles. “You're somethin' else.”

  I nod. “Yes, I am,” I say. “And I need you inside of me.”

  Brady reaches into his nightstand dresser and takes a condom out of the drawer. Personally, I'd rather feel him – the real him – inside of me, but it's probably best to be smart about all of this. With the condom on, Brady climbs back on top of me and smiles.

  My body tingles when Brady presses the head of his thick, swollen cock against my hot, wet little opening. And I groan as he slides himself into me, inch by amazing inch. He fills me up completely and when he drives himself forward, deeper into me, it feels like a bomb went off inside of me.

  I wrap my arms around his neck, my head spinning with how good it feels to have Brady moving inside of me. His cock is thick and hard and stretches me wide open. And though there are momentary flashes of pain because of his size, the overwhelming feeling of pleasure more than makes up for it.

  Brady is pumping his hips to a hard, steady rhythm, setting off explosions of sensation every time he drives himself deep into me. I rake my nails down his back and bite his neck as I thrash and writhe beneath him. He feels amazing and our bodies meld together like they were made for each other.

  My breathing is ragged and shallow and my heart is pounding so hard in my chest, I'm half-afraid it's going to burst. The pressure is building up within me again and as Brady keeps thrusting himself into me, he's bringing me to the brink again.

  He looks down at me with the strangest look in his eyes. I don't know what he's thinking in that moment and I wish I did. But as soon as the thought enters my mind, it's gone again, washed away in a rush of sensation as my orgasm, even more powerful than the first, crashes down over me.

  I bite his shoulder to keep from crying out too loud when my body begins to tighten and spasm. And as I co
me hard, I lock my legs around his waist, keeping him deep inside of me.

  My body is tightening and spasming so hard, I can feel the muscles inside of me grip Brady's cock even tighter as he drives himself into me. I hear him grunt and then it turns into a slow groan as I feel his body tense up. He thrusts his cock into me again, deeper than before, and then I feel it begin to pulse. He calls my name as his body seems to let go completely and I feel him coming inside of the condom, filling it up with his hot, wet seed.

  He collapses on top of me, our bodies spent. I feel his cock growing softer and he slides out of me, slipping off his condom and tossing it in a trashcan near the bed. That done, he rolls onto his back and pulls me on top of him, laying my head down on his hard, broad chest.

  “You are amazing,” he says.

  I giggle. “You're not too bad yourself.”

  He kisses the top of my head and trails his fingers down my back. I run my fingertips along his chest, reveling in the feel of his skin. Once again, I'm stunned that I'm even here. That I just had sex with Brady Keating – my soon to be fake-husband and apparent business partner.

  But as I listen to him breathing, I know that it's more than just a business relationship. At least for me. And I can only hope that after what we just shared, that it is for him too.

  “Thank you for today,” I say. “For everything, really.”

  “This is only the beginning, darlin',” he says sleepily. “This is only the beginning.”

  Only the beginning? It has a nice ring to it. I hold on to that and the feel of his warm body pressed to mine as the warm, comforting waters of sleep pulls me down into their depths.

  Chapter Twenty

  Tiffany

  “How did this happen, Mr. Haas?”

  “I – I really don't know, Miss Greene,” he stammers. “Nobody, and I mean nobody saw this coming.”

  The fat, sweaty man across the desk from me looks like he's about to have a heart attack. I could only be so lucky. Carl Haas is a reporter for the San Antonio Beat, one of the city's sleazier tabloids. And he is my employee – an employee that just failed miserably at his job.