by Anne Jolin
“Touch,” he confesses. “It’s always made it worse.”
Not sure what to say, I don’t say anything at all. I simply hold him awhile longer. Our touch seems to be helping us both.
I calm him, and in turn, he makes me feel safe.
“I NEED TO call my sister,” I say, stepping away.
I do need to call her, but I could also use the distance from him. I feel so connected to him despite the fact that I barely know him, and it’s a little unnerving.
As I bend down to retrieve my phone from the mess of glass, I hear him curse behind me.
“Sit down,” he demands.
Furrowing my brow, I level him with my green stare. “Why?”
He points to my leg before disappearing into the bathroom. Looking down, I notice the stream of blood on my shin. The tiny cut from earlier is bleeding like a motherfucker¸ appearing much worse than it actually is. Brax returns minutes later with a first aid kit.
“That”—I gesture towards the kit with a cocked eyebrow —“might be a little much for a cut.”
“Just sit down, Beth.” He points sternly to the chair again. “You can call your sister while I clean this up.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I huff at him. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
He holds up one finger. “First of all, I’m your boss, so I can tell you what to do.” Then he holds up a second finger. “Second of all, as your friend, I’m giving you fair warning that if you don’t sit your perfect ass down in that chair yourself”—he pauses and I purse my lips snottily at him—“I’ll do it for you.”
After strutting over to one of the red chairs, I sink down, dialing Hannah’s phone number. It rings twice before her voice floods through the receiver.
“Is everything okay, Beth? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
I pinch my nose in frustration as Brax kneels down in front of me, unzipping the first aid kit. How do you tell your sister that your psychotic, sociopathic ex-boyfriend is not only terrorizing you, but he’s now threatened her and the life of her unborn child?
“Is Greyson home with you?” I ask her.
“No, he’s working the day shift all week. Why?”
I mentally berate myself for not realizing Kyle was a nutjob until it was too late. Yanking the receiver from my ear, I almost kick Brax in the face. “Fuck!” I hiss.
He’s cleaning the cut with an alcohol swab and it stings like a bastard. The pain is countered as his hot breath blows over the throbbing skin. My entire body breaks out in goose bumps.
“Beth?” Dammit.
“I’m here. Listen, please don’t freak out, but I need you to go to Mom and Dad’s until Greyson gets home.” I try to keep my voice calm and even while I talk to her. Stress is bad for the baby and thus, bad for her.
“I can’t, Beth. You have my truck,” she argues from the other end of the phone. Fuck. Kyle knows that too. “Greyson will be home at six. What’s the big deal?”
Now is not a good time for my sister to be stubborn. “Hannah, just—” My speech is cut off when Brax pulls the phone away from me, sliding it between his ear and shoulder as he digs through the first aid kit for a Band-Aid.
“Hi. Hannah is it?” A muffled response comes through from the other end before he continues. “This is Braxton, Hannah’s boss. We’ve had an incident at the office with your sister’s ex-boyfriend and I believe it would be in your best interest if you weren’t home alone for the time being.” More muffled talking. “She’s shaken up but perfectly all right.”
I claw at the phone, but he glares at me.
“No, she hadn’t informed me that she hasn’t gone to the police yet.”
I scowl at him in return. I can talk to my own damn sister for crying out loud. Bossy jerk.
“I’ll take care of it,” he tells her. “There will be a car around to pick you up shortly. Frank will come to the door. Please don’t go outside until he knocks.”
“That’s not possible. We live in—”
He cuts me off again, and now I’m kind of wishing I had kicked him in the face.
“You too. I’ll have her call you later,” he says, ending the call and dropping the iPhone back in my lap.
“That was rude,” I hiss.
Ignoring me, he unwraps the Band-Aid, applying it gently over my cut. Gripping the back of my knee with his left hand and my ankle with his right, he lifts my leg up. I’m all too aware of the fact that I’m wearing a dress and he’s dangerously close to the area that’s wet just from being so close to him. Bending over, he gives me a whisper of a kiss on top of my cut.
“All better, babe.” He pulls me up out of the chair, snagging my purse from the couch, and then starts walking towards the door. “Time to go.”
“What? Why? You can’t fire me,” I spill out in rapid succession. Seriously? After all that, he’s going to fire me? Hell no.
He clenches his jaw. “I’m not firing you, Beth. I’m taking you to the police station. Something you should have done yesterday.”
“Why don’t we cool it on the judgment there, pal?” I snark, placing a manicured hand on my hip. “I had a pile of shit the size of Texas to deal with last night, so no, I didn’t get around to going to the police station at ten o’clock at night because I was afraid to drive my fucking car.” Here I go all crazy girl again. “So before you swoop in and tell me all the things I should have done better, why don’t you tell me who exactly is picking up my sister and how exactly they are doing to get from here to Rock Falls”—I make bunny ear quotations with my fingers—“’shortly.’”
He half-grins at me. It’s the closest thing I’ve ever seen to smile from him and it only irritates me further. He thinks I’m fucking funny.
“I rarely ever use Frank, my driver, and when I don’t, he prefers to stay at the Rock Falls estate versus in the city. He will be there the moment I text him, which I’ll do now if you’re ready to go,” he announces as if it’s the most normal thing on the planet. Rich people.
“And?” I propose, waiting for an apology.
He sighs. “And what?”
“And what about the Judgy McJudgerson thing you’ve got going on? I’d like an apology for that.”
He walks back over to where I’m standing, bending over to look me in the eye. He’s not touching me per se, but if either of us breathes heavily, our chests would touch.
“You won’t get one, babe. I get that you were scared, but someone should have taken you. So now, I am.” Turning on the heel of his Gucci shoe, he strides towards the door, unlocking it and pulling it open. “Now, Beth.”
His demanding attitude has me worked into a tizzy in more ways than one.
“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath as I pass by him.
After a grueling three hours at the police station, all I want to do is curl into a ball on the couch and watch movies about other people’s dramatic lives instead of living in my own. Brax put pressure on the few higher-ups he knew but it didn’t help. There still wasn’t any way to prove Kyle had been behind any of the threats. The texts had been sent from untraceable burner phones and the surveillance cameras in the garage had been disabled. There was no way to see that he’d been the one to leave the note on my car. The note itself didn’t prove helpful either. There weren’t any fingerprints on it—he must have worn gloves—and he’d typed it on the computer, so there was no way to match his handwriting. Needless to say, I filed another report that would go nowhere and am back to square one.
Hannah was safely deposited at my parents’ house by Frank, and now, we are pulling into the underground parkade of the law building in Brax’s black Ferrari. It seems like almost everything he owns is black for that matter. It occurs to me now that I could swear he took me to the hospital in an old muscle car. It certainly wasn’t this swanky ride.
“Do you have another car?” I blurt out.
“Several,” he answers vaguely, parking the expensive car in his stall by the elevator.
&nbs
p; Wait. What? “Where the fuck is Hannah’s truck?” I explode, searching the stalls around us.
“It’s gone,” Brax says simply, turning off the car. He begins to open the door when I grab his large forearm.
“What do you mean it’s gone exactly?”
“I had two of the interns return it to your sister’s house this afternoon.” He tries to exit again and I yank back on his arm. This controlling prick is taking over my life.
“How the hell am I supposed to get home now?” I snap at him, losing count of the number of times I’ve wanted to ring his pretty neck today.
“I’ll drive you,” he declares, this time effectively getting out of the car.
I scramble to undo my seatbelt before climbing out so I can yell at him some more. My heels clack on the concrete as I stalk up to where he’s standing in front of the car.
“What if I don’t want a ride from the Disney princess?” I sneer. Dropping the Cinderella reference was a low blow, but I’m past caring about anything at this point.
“Too bad, babe. You don’t have a choice,” he quips back, not missing a beat.
“This isn’t the eighteen hundreds. Of course I have a—” I start to argue.
Snaking an arm around my waist, he drags my body flush against his. “Will you please shut up,” he demands before his lips crash onto mine.
The tension in my body is feverishly replaced by lust. Cupping the back of my neck with his other hand, he licks the seam of my lips, which causes my body to shudder. Greedy to taste more of him, I eagerly allow his tongue entrance to my mouth. Dropping my purse onto the ground beside me, I run my hands up his chest and into his unruly, black hair. My breasts feel heavy, and the sensitive space between my thighs aches for him. It’s as if there’s a hum of electricity coursing through my body.
Angel or demon, princess or villain—hell, it doesn’t matter. He could be a fairy fucking godmother for all I care. Kissing Braxton Bennett for the first time is like jumping from the plane when you skydive: terrifying, exhilarating, and the most exquisite kind of adrenaline rush.
There isn’t a high you can buy that feels this good.
THE ELEVATOR BINGS before the doors open to a rush of chattering voices that take over the empty space. Unlocking our lips, we both pant heavily, still clutching each other’s bodies like they’re lifelines.
“Mmm,” he hums across my lips. “I should have shut you up this way yesterday.”
Fisting his hair in my hand, I tug slightly. “You’re such an asshole.”
“Always.” He eyes me cockily, moving a hand down to grab a handful of my ass.
After releasing me, he allows me to pick up my purse before slipping his rough hand into mine. Then he presses the call button for the elevator as I inspect myself in the reflection of the doors. Swollen lips, hooded eyes, and messy hair. It’s a look I could get used too.
When the doors open, he tucks me into his side and we ascend to the twenty-fifth floor.
I’m even more certain now that kissing him is exactly like skydiving. It’s over too quickly, and the moment your feet it the ground, you want to go straight up and do it again.
I try to release his hand when we reach our floor, but he grips it firmly, shaking his head. Not even bothering to argue with him, I find myself stifling a laugh. He really did shut me up. There are a few looks tossed our way, but most people appear too terrified of Brax to even risk a glance at him, let alone at what we’re doing.
Should I be a little concerned that it seems like I’m sleeping with my boss? Probably. Am I concerned? Not in the fucking slightest.
After sitting me down at my desk, he retreats into his office, closing the door behind him. It takes me a few minutes to shake off my lust-induced haze before I’m ready to settle into work. Being that we’ve been gone nearly half the day, there’s a stack of messages, unopened mail, and unanswered e-mails. I separate all the urgent information from the rest, forwarding those directly to Brax. It takes me a little more than forty-five minutes until I can readily attack the pool of potential jurors again. The afternoon flies by, and before I know it, the clock is rounding on nearly six in the evening.
“How are you?” Nikki asks, leaning her petite frame against my desk.
Recognizing that she doesn’t know anything about what happened yet had to witness all of it, I feel a pang of guilt for keeping her in the dark. “I’m all right. Let’s go to lunch tomorrow. I’ll fill you in?” I suggest, not wanting to talk about it now.
“Whenever you’re ready, Beth. We all have dirty laundry we don’t want to air,” she says softly. “I’m going to go home. See you tomorrow.”
I watch her press off from the desk before she starts to speak again. “Oh, I had the janitor clean up the, uhh”—she motions towards the frosted office behind me—“accident.”
“Thank you.” I smile at her before she walks down the hallway.
After I shut down my computer and organize my paperwork for tomorrow, I knock twice on Brax’s office door. When he doesn’t answer, I walk in. He’s on his cell phone, his back turned to me, and he’s speaking in a hushed tone.
“It needs to be tomorrow, Marty,” he demands. “No, not next week. Tomorrow. I need it.”
I can’t hear what the other man is saying as I walk slowly up to the desk. Am I eavesdropping? Maybe.
“Whatever. I’ll take it. Tomorrow at nine.” He ends the call, resting his head against the back of his chair, sighing heavily.
He hasn’t noticed I’m here yet and it’s starting to feel a little creepy watching him, so I clear my throat.
“It’s after six. I was planning to head home, but...”
“But I’m your ride,” he finishes.
“Yes, you are.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “Being a bossypants not working out quite how you expected?” I mock him.
He stands, raising his arms over his head and stretching his lean body. I follow the definition of his muscles under his dress shirt and subconsciously lick my lips.
“Oh the contrary, babe. I think it’s working out just fine,” Brax teases, grabbing his coat from the back of the chair. Then he walks beside me through the office, his large hand sprawled at the base of my back in a possessive manner.
“Isn’t it a little absurd though? You driving to Rock Falls and back tonight? I really could just take a cab,” I argue with him, thinking that it seems like a bit of a drastic measure.
“Who says I’m coming back tonight?” he challenges, pressing the call button on the elevator. “Who says I’m not staying in Rock Falls tonight?”
I stammer. “Y-you’re not staying with me.”
Moving my hair off my neck, he runs his fingers along my collarbone. “Not tonight.” The feeling of his rough hands along my soft skin makes me shudder. “But I am picking you up in the morning.”
“To hell you are! I’m a grown woman. I can get myself to and from work Brax.” I stomp my foot in irritation.
“I’m well aware of just how grown you are, Beth,” he growls.
It takes everything I have to focus on my train of thought. Angry. I was angry. Stay angry. Independence. Driving myself. I collect all of my points for the argument I’m about to launch as we step into the elevator.
“Stop,” he groans, trapping my body against the elevator wall with his. “I can see the gears working in your head, babe. I’ll drag you from the house kicking and screaming, or you can come willingly.”
“I suppose I don’t get a choice in this either, then?” I purse my lips.
He trails a finger down over the swell of my breasts. “That was a choice.”
The elevator doors open before I get to feel his lips on mine again. Brax opens the passenger’s side door to his car, helping me inside before sliding in behind the steering wheel.
Pulling out onto the highway, he turns on the radio before wrapping his hand around the stick shift. “Till It’s Gone” by Yelawolf spills through the expensive speakers, and a pool of heat settles
between my legs as he changes gears. As he opens up the powerful vehicle on the mountain road, my heart rate increases. It’s exhilarating and freeing. The sun is setting over the ocean, and I admire the profile of his chiseled jaw in the fading light. He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen—this side of him and his dark side equally as enthralling.
The hour drive is comfortable, neither of us finding a reason to talk. He makes the turns to my house effortlessly before I recognize I never told him where I live.
“How do you know where I live?” I question.
Looking over, he winks at me. “It was on your employment application, babe.”
“Hmm,” I murmur under my breath.
After parking the car in my driveway, he gets out, walking around to open my door for me.
“Thank you for the ride,” I say softly, as if finally realizing the strangeness of our situation.
Realizing, but not necessarily caring so much.
“I’ll pick you up at seven thirty.”
“Okay.” I smile at him before turning to walk up the stairs to our front door.
Sliding the key into the lock, I look over at him. He’s sitting on the hood of his car, his thick arms crossed over his chest. There’s barely any light left outside, and the darkness suits him. The sleek edges of his black Ferrari, the fine cut of his grey suit, and the hard line of his jaw. He looks every bit the lethal lawyer tonight. I feel untouchable when I’m with him, completely safe.
He waits for me to go inside before I hear the engine roar to life again. The house is quiet, so Peyton must be out. I take advantage of the alone time, kicking off my heels in the living room and stripping my way down the hallway to the bathroom. I turn on the shower, peeling off my bra and panties before stepping under the hot spray. My body is half writhing in need from being around Brax all day and half feeling dirty from Kyle’s threats.
Peyton returns home sometime while I’m in the shower and starts dinner. As we eat, I fill her in on my eventful day. The concern is etched on her face, and from anyone else, I’d hate that look, but from her, it doesn’t bother me. Somewhere behind her beautiful eyes, it’s like she understands how I feel. After watching a show on TV and checking in on Hannah, I decide to call it a night.