I grip her hip with my free hand.
“What do I want?” she asks, her voice so soft I almost don’t hear her. “I want . . . you, Bram. I want you.”
Before I can respond, she turns in my arms and grips the back of my neck, bringing my lips down to hers.
Christ . . .
I sigh into her hold, moving my hands down her back, just above the spot above the swell of her ass.
My heart hammers, my pulse shooting off to a marathon pace as she works her lips over mine. She’s soft at first, tentative, almost as if she’s trying to gauge my reaction.
I let her know this is exactly what I want—what I’ve so desperately been waiting for—by pulling her in close, but giving her permission to search my mouth.
And she does.
With a light stroke of her tongue along my lips, she asks for entrance, and I waste no time giving it to her. I part my mouth and match the pulse of her tongue against mine. Our mouths mold together and our labored breaths become one as we grip each other tightly.
Fuck, this is even better than the first time I kissed her and there is one big reason why—she initiated it. This was her idea, this connection . . . she wanted it. Thank. Fuck.
I didn’t forcibly kiss her last time, but I did catch her off guard. This kiss, fuck, it rivals all kisses I’ve ever had because it’s coming full-force from the girl I’ve wanted for so long.
When she pulls away, she doesn’t put much distance between us, instead she keeps her hands clasped around my neck, her fingers barely twirling over my short strands of hair.
“I’m scared, Bram.”
“Don’t be.” I drape my hands behind her back, holding her in place. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’ve wanted this for so goddamn long. I’m not going to do something to screw it up.”
“But there are so many factors that go into dating someone.”
I shake my head. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t analyze us dating, just let it be. Set aside the charts and the theories and feel. Live in the moment with me.”
“You’re a red—”
“Jules, forget all of that.” I grip her tighter. “Just feel. What is your body telling you right now?”
She casts her eyes to the side, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “It’s hoping you’ll ask me out on a date.” So cute.
“Yeah?” My brows shoot up to my hairline. “Then let’s remedy that.” I tip her chin up. “Jules, will you go out with me tomorrow night?”
Being the devil woman she is, she doesn’t answer right away. Instead she makes me wait it out. I swear she learned these tactics from Rath, never answering right away, always giving every answer their full thought. It’s infuriating, especially since I’ve been waiting for this answer for a while.
“Tomorrow night I might have plans.”
Chuckling, I pull her in even closer and bring her lips close to mine. “You don’t now. Come out with me, let me show you the kind of man I can be.”
Her eyes soften. “I know the kind of man you can be, the kind of man you are, and that’s what terrifies me because I’ve never felt deeply for someone before.”
“And you think you can feel deeply for me?” I ask, my breath practically catching in my chest.
Slowly she nods. “I do.”
“Well, fuck if that isn’t exactly what I wanted to hear.” I lean down and press a small kiss across her lips. “You can trust me, Jules. This is what I want. You are what I want.”
“But you’ve never been in a relationship before.”
“And yet, I wooed you across town to thank me for a mug. I think I have this romance thing handled.” I give her a wink. “Now get out of here before I defile you, strip you down to nothing, and bend you over the desk.”
Immediately her cheeks redden, causing me to laugh.
“You’ve thought about that?”
I slowly nod, a lazy grin on my face. “Ever since I saw you in a pencil skirt five years ago.”
Her cheeks turn a deeper shade of red.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take my time, because you’re worth the wait. Everything about you is worth the wait.” I nod toward my office door. “Now get out of here. I’ll text you the details.”
She takes a step backward, her legs unsteady, hands awkwardly clasped in front of her, almost as if she doesn’t know how to react right now. “Is this really happening?”
“It is.”
She takes another step back, her hand gripping the edge of the doorframe. “We’re going out tomorrow? On a date?”
“Yup.” I stuff my hands in my pockets.
“And . . . and we kissed.”
Slowly I run my tongue over my lips. “Yes, beautiful, we did, and it was fucking great.”
As if she has to process everything step by step, she looks at the ground and nods, wrapping her head around everything. “Your my brother’s best friend.”
“Another true fact.”
“What’s he going to say?”
I shrug. “I’ll deal with him, so focus on keeping that door to your heart open, because I’m about to sweep you off your pretty little feet.”
The smallest of smiles peeks past her lips. “Okay.”
“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jules.”
She finally meets her eyes with mine. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
With that, she turns on wobbly legs and makes her way down the hall. When I hear the elevator ding and the doors shut, I celebrate, fist-pumping the air, and letting out a less-than-masculine squeal.
I don’t even care that I dropped a testicle along the way.
I’m going out with Julia.
This calls for a plan of action and reinforcements.
Chapter Twenty-Three
BRAM
I need to take pause.
Timeout.
A slight intermission in this journey into my love life because . . .
Holy.
Fuck.
I am one happy man right about now.
She kissed me. Julia Yolanda—pretty sure that’s not her middle name—Westin kissed me. Right on the lips, on the old smackeroos, and her nipples were hard.
Really fucking hard.
Like two lost little pebbles, seeking out my fingers. I wanted to pinch them, take them into my mouth, show her everything I can do with her body.
But she wants to take it slow. She wants romance. I can do romance. I’ve been doing romance for the past few weeks, or at least I thought I had been. Looks like I need to step up my game. And it starts with a good-morning text.
That’s how all the great romances start, with a good-morning text.
Hell, I’m about to send Julia Regina—that sounds a little better—Westin a good-morning text.
*Ahem*
Twiddles fingers.
Ponders . . .
Aha, I got it.
Flexes fingers . . . types.
There, classy and sexy. She’ll love it.
I skip the suit coat since it’s a Saturday, and head down the elevator to my waiting town car, phone in hand.
When Carly had the crazy idea of me going to Julia and taking what I wanted, I never really thought it was going to happen, and then one foot fell in front of the other and before I knew it I was knocking on her door. And when we kissed, fuck, I know it’s going to sound really fucking cheesy, but I swear on my dick I heard angels sing. A choir of hallelujahs rang out, providing a climactic moment, a moment where my entire life shifted into place, like that was where I was supposed to be all this time, in her arms.
And that choir of hallelujahs sang even louder last night when, after a torturous week of trying to act cool and calm, it finally paid off.
Now, this isn’t something I can tell her. I might not have ever been in a relationship before, but I’m not an idiot. I know when you keep your mouth shut and this is the time. I can’t possibly run over to her apartment, pound on her door until she opens it to tell her that w
hile she was kissing me, I felt the soft spirit of an angel whispering in my ear, telling me all was right with the world.
She’d think I’m crazy.
But I know . . . those crazy bitches—the angels—and I know.
Julia and I are meant to be.
Cupid struck me in the ass last night, gave me a wallop of a zinger, and flooded me with infatuation for one person and one person only.
Julia Margaret—that could work—Westin.
My phone buzzes in my hand, and like the giddy motherfucker that I am, I quickly read the text.
Julia: You’re really going to ask if my nipples are still hard first thing in the morning? That’s going to be your good morning text to me?
I chuckle. Boy, does she have something to learn about me.
Bram: I thought it was nice, sincere. This part of me has been suppressed, Miss Westin.
I make my way to my town car where my driver holds open the door for me. Like always, I give him a high-five and then hop in.
Julia: I just made a mental note to remember that.
Bram: So . . . do I get a good morning? How’s your dick? Did it fall off from blue balls?
Julia: You’re impossible.
Bram: I’m waiting . . .
Julia: [eye-roll emoji] Good morning, Bram. Did your dick fall off last night?
Bram: Almost, but I patted the old guy and told him you’re worth the wait.
Julia: Why is that gross but still somewhat romantic?
Bram: Because it is romantic, and there’s more where that came from. I have a whole slew of romantic sayings stored up for you.
Julia: Oh I can’t wait.
Bram: Are we still on for tonight? You didn’t wake up and change your mind, did you?
Julia: We’re still on.
Bram: and . . .
Julia: These texts are too exhausting for the morning. And I didn’t change my mind.
Bram: See, that wasn’t so hard. Don’t worry, there should be a chai latte delivered to your apartment in about three minutes. Good morning [wink emoji]
Julia: Chai delivery? Is this what dating Bram Scott is like?
Bram: Bet your sweet nipples it is.
Julia: Well, thank you.
Bram: You’re welcome. Now go send me a nude picture.
Julia: Bram . . .
Bram: Just testing to see if you stand firmly on that.
Julia: I do.
Bram: Okay, just checking. I’ll text you later. Have a good morning.
Julia: You too. [kiss emoji]
Bram: Oh, BTW, what’s your middle name?
Julia: Ann, why?
Bram: No reason.
Holy.
Fuck.
I kissed Julia ANN Westin last night.
* * *
“Sit down, Linus.” I point to the chair in front of me. The rest of the office is quiet because it’s a Saturday, and I’m not a bastard who makes people work on the weekends, unless you’re my assistant, then I make you come in so I can squeal like a little girl about how I made out with the girl of my dreams last night.
Cautiously he takes a seat and grips the arms rests, looking a little nervous. I don’t ever call him in on weekends unless it’s a red-alert, DEFCON 1, the-world-is-about-to-implode-type emergency. So, I can understand his trepidation.
I stand from my desk and start to pace back and forth, hand in my pocket. “How long have you been working for me, Linus?”
“Five years, sir.”
I nod. “And in those five years, have I ever once disappointed you?”
“No, sir.” He shakes his head, looking far too scared, poor fella.
“That’s what I thought.”
“Is there something I did wrong?” God, I feel bad for him, if only I didn’t have a flair for the dramatics.
I nod and walk to the hidden fridge in my wall. “You doubted me.”
“Doubted? Oh no, never. Mr. Scott, I can assure you, I’ve never doubted you. Is this about the Polly Project? I told you it was a big undertaking, but if anyone can do it, it’s you.”
“This has nothing to do with the Polly Project.” I yank open the fridge and pull out two milkshakes from the freezer section. With a huge smile on my face, I turn toward him and hold out the shake. Immediately he exhales in relief and presses his hand to his chest.
“Oh my God, I thought I was getting fired.”
I laugh. As if I’d ever fire Linus. “It’s always good to keep you on your toes.” I wink and hand him the shake.
He takes a sip. “So does this mean you’re finally taking Miss Westin on a date?”
I swallow a huge sip of chocolate and peanut butter milkshake, savoring the flavor. God, that’s good. “Yup, tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Let’s just say after a week of wooing, she finally came to her senses and gave me a chance.” I look to the ceiling in a dream-like state. “We made out for a few seconds, right here in this office.” I focus back on Linus. “But tonight, it has to be better. I have to come up with an amazing date idea and that’s where I need your help. You’re hip, right? You know cool shit.”
“I might have some ideas.” Linus smirks. “Do you want to do something fun? Something extravagant? Something that’s going to blow her mind? What’s the vibe you’re going for tonight?”
I sip my milkshake and think about it. “Hell, I don’t know. I don’t want to flaunt my money, because she doesn’t care about that shit.”
“Okay, so not extravagant.”
“But money isn't a factor when it comes to her, so if we have to lay it down to get what I want, that’s not an issue.”
“Got it, but you don’t want to show off that you have money.”
“Exactly.” I point at Linus. Such a smart guy. “Dinner is obviously involved, but there needs to be something else, something exciting she would never do.”
“I have an idea.” A sly smile falls over Linus as he sips from his milkshake. “It will show you’re down to earth but fun.”
“I like the sounds of that . . .” I pause and hold up my hand. “Wait”—I shake my head—“don’t tell me.”
“Why?”
“Because. What if it’s this really good idea and she asks how I came up with it? I can’t lie to her and say I’m that good. I’d have to tell her you came up with the idea. And what kind of man leans on his assistant to plan the first date with the girl of his dreams? That’s not how I want to start this relationship.”
“Okay, so what would you like me to do?”
I think about it, sipping my milkshake and looking out my window. “I want you to sit there. I’m going to talk out loud about my ideas. I need a simple head shake from you, a basic yes or no, but no talking. Got it?”
“Got it.” He holds up his finger. “Can I just say something really quickly?”
I move to my desk chair and wake up my computer. “Only if it isn’t about the actual date.”
“It’s not.”
I gesture at him. “Then proceed.”
“I’ve worked with you for five years now and this is the first time you’re treating me like a real assistant, like many of my assistant friends are treated, and I have to admit, I like it.”
“You like coming in on weekends?” I ask, brow lifted in question.
“Well, not every weekend, but I was feeling left out when all my friends were complaining about how awful their bosses were. Now I can tell them how dramatic you were about your first date and made me come in.”
I chuckle and type in my password. “Make sure to nix the milkshake thing, as that’s going to give it away. Tell them I forced you to polish my shoes from under my desk while I was still wearing them.”
“That would be an honor of a story to tell.”
“Add that I barked orders a lot.”
Linus holds up his hands. “We have to make this believable. They already know you’re not a barker.”
I playfully pound my desk with my fist. “Damn it, Li
nus, now they know I’m a softy.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
JULIA
“I’m struggling.”
Clarissa looks me up and down, assessing my appearance, which is me in a robe, with five dresses in hand, my hair a mess, and no makeup.
“Oh sweetie, you look like a hot mess.”
In dramatic fashion, I melt to the ground and bury my head in my hands. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I can’t remember the last time I went on a date. And I’ve never been on a date with a guy like Bram before. He’s so, so . . .”
“Dreamy?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “He’s so dreamy. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”
“Well, first of all, stand up and give me a hug because OH MY GOD, you kissed Bram Freaking Scott last night.” Technically I kissed him before last night, but I didn’t get into it when I called Clarissa an hour ago to explain my situation—how Bram asked me out, kissed me, and told me he’s liked me since college.
Clarissa pulls on my hand and helps hoist me to my feet. She holds me at arm’s length and says, “Okay, we need to get to work. What time is he going to be here?”
“He said he was picking me up at seven.”
Clarissa glances at her watch. “We have an hour.”
“Is that enough time?” I cringe.
“Plenty of time. Do you know why?”
I shake my head. “No, why?”
Clarissa puts her arm around my waist and guides me to my bathroom, leaving the dresses on the floor. “Because Bram likes you the way you are, so we don’t have to do much.”
“He never said that.”
“He doesn’t have to. He liked you in college when you were riding the train to Frumpville every day. He likes you for you, and I think we should keep you the same way.”
“I’m not wearing a sweatshirt on this date.” I sit on my bed and cross my arms. “I want to look nice for him.”
“And you will, but I don’t think you should get all gussied up either. Like . . . keep your hair and makeup the same, and if you wear a low-cut dress, then that’s what you wear.” She smirks and nods to the bathroom. “Let’s tame your hair down. I can do that while you put on your makeup.”
The Secret to Dating Your Best Friend’s Sister Page 22