I could hardly argue with that.
30
Aimee
For the first five breathless minutes I clung to Brandon like a terrified baby spider monkey. Then, slowly, I realized I wasn’t dying or flying off onto the pavement. After ten minutes, I was opening my eyes, breathing again, and testing the waters. After half an hour I was leaning into the turns, grinning like a maniac, and having the time of my life.
The rally was a lot less frightening than I was expecting. It was just like any other festival, and only a bit louder and dirtier. It felt nice to abandon the conservative, carefully planned version of myself for a few hours. Even though I knew it was an illusion, riding around with Brandon or holding his hand at the rally gave me a glimpse into a very different reality. One where I wasn’t always having to be in charge, professional, and restrained. It was nice to let my hair down a little bit and forget St. Vincent’s for a while.
Brandon was in his element. He belonged out here, hanging out with the other rebels. Tonight, Brandon laughed louder, smiled broader, and seemed to delight in pushing me past my comfort zone. He was more relaxed and happier than I could ever remember seeing him.
“You like this,” he eventually said to me as I was going full pig on a beer and some popcorn. “Admit it, you do. You’re having fun.”
“I don’t hate it,” I said coyly. I knew I wasn’t fooling him.
“You love it,” he insisted, drawing me closer to him and draping an arm over my shoulders as we walked through the street festival. “I can tell.”
“It’s not awful. I’m beginning to warm up to it a little bit.”
“Do you want to go get some real food?” he asked. “I’m okay eating corndogs and funnel cake, but I did make us dinner reservations.”
I dropped my next handful of popcorn. “Dinner reservations?”
He nodded. “Did you think I’d feed you carnival food on our date?”
I shrugged. “I like this,” I admitted.
He laughed at me. “I knew it!” he told me.
I felt my mouth drop open. He tricked me! “Okay, you win. I’m having fun.”
He grinned victoriously and I felt myself smiling back at him until he swept in and stole a kiss from me that left me breathless. This version of Brandon was more teasing, carefree, and fun than I knew he could be. It was contagious. I felt nothing like myself and it was wonderful.
“You do like oysters, don’t you?” he asked me, taking my hand in his and leading me back toward the bike.
I nodded. I loved them. Plus, they were reportedly an aphrodisiac, not that I was going to need one.
We hopped back on the bike and I let my mind wander off into fantasy land as we rode. There’s something more than a little bit sensual about riding a motorcycle. I mean having a huge, vibrating machine between your legs while leaning up against the firm, muscular back of an exceptionally handsome man is hardly torture. Add in a lovely sunset, fresh air, and city scenery and it’s not hard to imagine this night ending tangled up in Brandon’s arms.
The restaurant Brandon picked was trendy and busy that night. There were a lot of motorcycles downtown tonight thanks to the rally, so the parking lot was also fairly loud. It wasn’t so loud, however, that I didn’t hear the honking horn of the jackass in the bright blue Porsche that cut Brandon off as he was about to pull into a parking spot. Brandon managed to avoid the collision, but I made a frightened little noise and I felt him tense up in anger.
“What the hell, man?” Brandon yelled at the guy when he got out. The driver, a balding fifty-something that reminded me a bit of a younger, fatter Martin, glowered at us. The vanity plate on his car said “LSTN UP.” He positively radiated uptight, entitled, baby-boomer shitty-ness.
“Why don’t you take your trashy slut and your stupid bike and go down the road to Denny’s?” he snapped unapologetically. “You damn biker hillbillies are ruining this city for the rest of us!”
Brandon bristled at the insult to me and I felt my jaw go slack.
“Hey, we’re doctors!” I yelled at his retreating back. “You better not choke on your food because I’m not Heimlich-ing you!” Brandon laughed ahead of me on the bike and turned to look at me affectionately.
“You’re cute when you’re angry,” he told me as he pulled into a nearby spot. “Want to help me vandalize his stupid car?”
Adrenaline was thrumming in my veins, but I paused. “Huh?”
Brandon pulled a knife out of an ankle sheath I hadn’t noticed.
“What are you doing?” I asked, looking around to see if anyone was watching. They weren’t. “Brandon!” I squealed. “Don’t!”
He rolled his eyes at me and grinned. “Still a goody-two-shoes under that leather jacket and windblown hair, huh Aimee?” he taunted. Then his expression went affectionate and serious. “I’m afraid I have to do this after he insulted you. It’s required by the man-code. You can look away if you want.”
He went up to where the little metal letters spelled out “Porsche” on the hood of the guy’s car. With the confident strokes of a surgeon, some strength, and a little creative flair—and while I stared in alternating pride and horror—he sliced and diced until they spelled “prick” instead. He stood back proudly and raised an eyebrow at me. I should have scolded him, but instead I just laughed and snapped a picture.
31
Brandon
After dinner I suggested that we have drinks at the nearby Four Seasons Hotel, pushing my luck just a little bit, but I was too entranced to fear rejection. Aimee was incredible tonight.
I knew there was a regular girl under all that serious work ethic and genius intellect. Oh, who am I kidding? There was nothing regular about Aimee. She was magnificent.
She embraced every challenge I threw at her tonight. Riding a motorcycle? Cool. Socializing with a bunch of rough neck bikers? Yes. Two stepping to country music? Sure. Stale beer and cheap food? Done. Vandalizing cars? Okay. I was starting to wonder where the line was, or if there wasn’t one. I was hoping for the second option.
“What made you want to pick this place for drinks?” Aimee asked as we climbed the stairs to the hotel bar.
The bar had a wonderful view of the lake, and even though the sun was down below the horizon, it was still beautiful. Plus, I had a personal connection here. I was about to tell Aimee about it, but I didn’t get the chance.
“Doc?” a voice asked from the landing above us. A familiar face in a dark suit rushed over to shake my hand. “It is you! It’s great to see you! I’m so glad you accepted my invitation.”
Aimee was looking at me interestedly. “Aimee, this is Isaac,” I explained. “Isaac’s the general manager here. We served together.”
Isaac was a few years younger than me, with unusually vivid auburn hair and a matching beard. He also had the attention span of a goldfish and the infectious energy of a puppy. “Pleased to meet you, Aimee,” he said excitedly. The man still had a lot of energy. “Any friend of Brandon’s drinks for free here.” He laughed his manic, contagious laugh.
Aimee smiled sweetly. “It’s nice to meet you too.” She paused and looked sidelong at me. “What did Brandon do to earn free drinks?”
Isaac grinned and I tensed. This damn story again. Maybe bringing her here was a mistake. “He saved my dog’s life.” Isaac’s voice was reverent, like I was some kind of hero. Aimee looked confused and he elaborated. “In Afghanistan I was a military working dog handler. My MWD, Shadow, got an infection from a cut off some shrapnel. Brandon saved her life.”
“I gave her some amoxicillin and removed the shrapnel,” I explained. “It was nothing fancy.”
Isaac shook his head and looked seriously at Aimee. “They told me Shadow had to wait two weeks until the vet would be on base. I knew she’d die if we did that, and she was suffering. Brandon broke the rules, smuggled out the medicine, and saved her.” His voice was earnest and infused with obvious love for Shadow.
Aimee’s expression softened. “
Do you still have Shadow?”
Isaac nodded. “She’s an old lady now, but I managed to adopt her when I got discharged. Want to see a picture?” He pulled out his phone and showed us his lock screen. A beautiful blue-eyed German shepherd all but grinned from the photograph. That dog was like his child. I was glad she was enjoying her retirement.
“She looks happy and healthy,” Aimee told him. She looked over at me. “You did good, Brandon.”
I shifted uncomfortably. “So… drinks?” I asked Isaac, eager to get this part of the conversation over. Being praised always made me feel uncomfortable.
Isaac gave me far too much credit anyway. I didn’t deserve it at all. Breaking one small rule to save Shadow had obviously been the only thing to do in that situation. The poor dog was about to go septic. She was an innocent victim and Isaac had been beside himself with worry. The two of them were like a single organism, working seamlessly together to sniff out bombs. We were all safer and better off with Shadow than without her.
“Drinks.” Isaac confirmed, turning to take the stairs two at a time. “Come on!”
32
Aimee
By the time we finished the drinks, I felt like I’d met an entirely new Brandon tonight. This Brandon was miles from the morose, brooding, angry man I thought I knew. He was courageous, mischievous, and bold, but still sensitive, compassionate, and kind. The way Brandon’s friends talked about him held a lot of weight to me. Isaac, like Mark and Lara, adored him. I found myself starting to feel the same way.
Brandon held my hand in his and I found myself wondering where this night was going. Before I could dwell on it, he broke the silence.
“Do you want to go upstairs with me?” he asked. His gaze was direct, and I felt the pressure of it against my skin almost as if he were touching me.
Even though I’d been hoping he’d suggest it, my heart still leapt, and I felt myself flushing yet again.
“Okay,” I heard myself saying. It was a forgone conclusion. I was helpless to resist Brandon after the night we’d had.
Brandon and I walked from the bar over to the front desk to get a room, and as we stood in line, I became distantly aware that an argument was taking place at the desk. The clerk was trying to calm down a balding, paunchy fifty-something man. I froze. Wait. Wasn’t that the guy who almost mowed us down with his Porsche?
“This prick,” Brandon whispered to himself, figuring it out at the same time I did. He looked over at me. “Hold on,” he told me, smiling like the devil. “I have an idea.”
Brandon rushed off back towards the bar, leaving me in the line alone. I caught wind of bits of the fight going on as I waited.
“I wanted a lake view, not a city view,” the guy was explaining to the harried-looking clerk. “This is unacceptable, and I want an upgrade immediately.”
“We’re all out of the lake view rooms,” the clerk replied. “I’m sorry but your reservation didn’t have a preference on it.”
“Then give me a suite instead!” he insisted.
The other guests in the line yawned, tapped their feet, and looked annoyed. It was late, and everyone probably wanted to get settled for the night. The clerk looked worried that he was about to have a mutiny on his hands.
Just a few seconds later and Brandon returned with Isaac. The clerk looked instantly relieved, and Isaac exchanged a small nod with Brandon.
“Sir,” Isaac said to the rude man, “why don’t you have a seat and I’ll be right with you to assist.” He gestured toward the lobby sitting area and its plush, leather chairs. “Please.”
The man frowned and complied reluctantly, looking at Brandon in belated recognition and frowning even more deeply. His face looked like it might fold in two from the force of it. I could only assume that he knew who’d vandalized his vehicle earlier tonight, unless he just went around pissing everybody off.
The clerk and Isaac quickly worked through the line’s backlog and Brandon and I were issued our room.
“You two will be in a lake view suite,” the clerk explained to us. “It’s up on the top floor and you’ll use the penthouse button. The elevators are over to your—”
“Excuse me!” The rude guy was back at my elbow. I winced away from his nearness. “I’ve been waiting for ages and did I just hear that they were given a lake view suite? I’m going to have to insist that you give me that room.”
Isaac swept in from the side, placing his imposing size between me and the guy. He backed up, obviously physically intimidated.
“I’m so very sorry, sir,” Isaac told the man insincerely, “but the room is already taken. We’re actually all out of rooms tonight. The last three were just taken by the people waiting in line. You can either keep your original room or check out.”
Brandon winked at him and we watched him turn a bright, livid purple color as we walked to the elevators hand in hand.
33
Brandon
Having Aimee in my arms didn’t feel real. Our first sexual encounter in the locker room had been surreal too, but somehow, this was even more like a fantasy. This wasn’t a hate fuck. This was a dream. The bright lights of the city reflected off the smooth lake water and filled the hotel room with a soft, inviting glow. I bet it was a nice view. But it was Aimee’s soft skin, hot breath, and lush curves that had all my attention.
I slipped her new leather jacket off her shoulders, kissing the delicate, sweet-smelling skin at the base of her neck. She shivered, stepping closer to me and wrapping her arms around my neck in response. She looked up at me with an expression I couldn’t describe but felt in my bones. She wanted this. For once, we weren’t arguing. For once, everything was right.
We maneuvered to the huge, soft bed, shedding exterior clothing like it was going out of style. Aimee was wearing sexy lingerie under her cute little outfit. Black lace. A tiny thong. A pushup bra. It was lovely. It was also gone in an instant. Then she was beneath me, perfectly naked, and I was spreading her legs wide to kiss between them. Her creamy white thighs were like silk.
Her back arched and she stared down at me, first in surprise and then in excitement. She was openmouthed and wide-eyed. She was already so ready. So right. Her tight little body responded to me like it was built for me, and she tasted so incredibly sweet. I was ravenous for her. Having her at my mercy like this was sweet torture. I worked her swollen, needy clit with my tongue until her blue eyes squeezed shut and her breathing went shallow. She made little breathy, incoherent noises, and I loved hearing them. She was always so careful and restrained. Except now. Now she was wild and free. I slid two fingers inside her, teasing. I knew she was close. Very close. Right on the edge.
“I’m not going to make it that easy for you,” I growled against her. She whimpered. “You’re going to have to work for it.”
My dick was so hard it was painful. I was desperate for her heat, her wetness, her friction. So, I took it. I reversed us, putting her on top of me. She was so small and light it was easy to put her where I wanted her. A little line of frustration appeared between her eyes, but when she realized what I was up to, it vanished. She smiled down at me shyly from our new angle.
“You did such a good job on my motorcycle today, baby,” I told her. “Now I want you to ride me.” She nodded and took me eagerly, working her tight pussy down my shaft with a long, satisfied exhale. We were a perfect fit. “Good girl,” I managed breathlessly.
She felt beyond perfect, and she looked even better from this angle than she had from down between her thighs. I held her hips as we moved together, hypnotized by the rise and fall of her tits as she bounced and grinded. Aimee’s chin tipped up and her eyes slipped closed again as she found her rhythm and really started to move. My fingers stroked over her nipples, her ass, her slender throat.
She was mine. All of her. Every sensation and every inch of her belonged to me. Even if it was only tonight and she’d go back to hating me tomorrow. Tonight, she was mine.
Her orgasm came before I was ready
for it, clenching tight around me and making her shake with the force of it. A little moan escaped her mouth and then I was sitting up and claiming those wet, full lips with my own. I pulled us into a more upright position, so that we were nose to nose with her still atop me, gripping her hips to drive into her harder and more vertically. She was so tight after she came, so impossibly wet and hot, that my own climax was only seconds behind. I emptied myself into her body, joyfully letting all my anger, fear, and insecurity evaporate into one moment of perfect pleasure.
Rationally, part of me knew that this wasn’t real. Aimee could never really be mine. There were so many reasons it wouldn’t work. I was too damaged. We were chasing different dreams. But it felt real. And just for tonight, that was almost enough.
34
Aimee
“I heard a fucked-up rumor you’re going to want to hear,” Lucy told me. She’d just stormed into my office and offered me a welcome respite from yet more boring paperwork. “But first, I have news. Big news. Like, really big.”
Lucy was positively vibrating with excitement and she was grinning from ear to ear. She’d been down lately, so it was good to see. I could feel myself smiling in return. My recent date with Brandon had eaten up all my attention recently. Reliving the night and the mind-blowing sex had taken up my entire weekend. And most of last night. And all of the morning. I couldn’t stop thinking about Brandon.
“Sure, what’s up, Lucy?” I asked her, beckoning her in with a wave of my hand. She shut the door behind her and sank down into the chair opposite my desk.
“I’m quitting,” she told me. “I just emailed my letter of resignation to Melinda. Effective tomorrow because fuck this place.”
Bad For You: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 14