On Dublin Street: The Bonus Material

by Samantha Young

My eyes scanned the room, looking for my fiancé. He didn’t know I was coming tonight and under my short Snow White costume was sexy white lingerie to match the white silk thigh highs I was wearing. My hope was to distract him for a little while in his office, on his nice and big desk. I shivered in anticipation remembering the last time I’d distracted him on his nice and big desk.

  In the wig, slightly powdered face, thick black eyelashes and bright red lipstick, Braden’s doormen hadn’t recognized me. I wondered how Braden would fare?

  Slipping past Barbie and Hercules as they almost went at it on the dance floor, I edged nearer to the bar. Braden wasn’t much for costumes so he’d chosen to wear a tuxedo. He’d told me that if anyone asked him who he was, he was going with ‘James Bond’.

  Where is James Bond? I frowned, slowly turning on my heels. “Oh.” I stumbled back to stop from colliding with Braden who’d suddenly appeared behind me as if out of thin air.

  He looked hot in his black tuxedo.

  Yum.

  “Snow White?” his lips twitched with laughter. “Really?”

  My hands flew to my hips. “You recognized me?”

  Braden laughed. “Babe.”

  “I could be Snow White,” I insisted, holding up the apple. “I make a very good Snow White. I was stupid enough to bite into the apple that is you.”

  “I’m not the one doing the tempting tonight.” His eyes drifted over my body, growing darker with intensity at the sight of my white silk stockings. “You make a sexy as fuck Snow White.”

  “You should see what’s underneath this.”

  He reached out, his large, warm hand smoothing around my waist to pull me close. “I’m supposed to be working. I have an important deejay setting up for tonight.”

  I touched his bow tie, pressing my lower body deeper into his. “You’re the owner. Technically, you don’t need to be here at all. I’m just suggesting you take a break for a little while.”

  “A break?” he murmured, his hand coasting down over my ass.

  Cocking my head to the side I grinned up into his face. “On that nice and big office desk of yours, perhaps?”

  Braden’s hand tensed on my ass. After a mere second of contemplation he pulled a plastic card out of his pocket and handed it to me. “The key to my office. I’ll meet you there in five.”

  “You got it.” I grinned, easing gently from his hold.

  I’d only walked a few steps away, feeling his eyes on the skin revealed by the short blue and yellow mini version of Snow White’s dress I wore. I turned back to him. “Oh and Mr. Bond,” I raised an eyebrow at him, “I expect to be shaken, not stirred.”

  Braden threw his head back in laughter, attracting attention from nearby dancers, but he didn’t even notice. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll shake you and the desk you’re on,” he promised, giving me a cocky smile before heading back into the crowds toward the other side of the club.

  Feeling pleased with myself, I strutted up the stairs to Braden’s office. I shut the door behind me, my eyes lighting up at the sight of the desk.

  “Good times.” I sighed happily, knowing tonight we’d add a few more memories to this room.

  Reaching behind me, I caught hold of the zip on my dress and eased it down. The taffeta costume slipped off easily and I shivered in the chilly office air, standing there in nothing but a bra, panties, thigh highs and heels. That was familiar too.

  Dumping the dress on Braden’s chair, I sidled around the desk and began clearing what little was on it to the very edges. Satisfied, I hopped up onto it and crossed my legs. Facing the door, I waited.

  And waited.

  And waited.

  I was just sliding off the desk, ready to find my fiancé and kill him, when the office door opened and he walked in.

  I immediately burst out laughing.

  His eyes washed over me as he shut the door and seeing me in my underwear made his glower darken.

  That just made me laugh harder.

  Dripping down his face, pooling across his broad shoulders and falling in icky glops down his tuxedo was green gunk. The look on his face was priceless.

  “Stop laughing,” he warned me.

  Of course like always I did not heed the warning. I finally calmed enough to wheeze out, “What happened?”

  “My doormen let the Ghostbusters into the club. They brought ectoplasm.”

  I let out another cackle of laughter. “Oh man,” I struggled to breathe, “I’m going to pee myself.”

  The narrowing of his eyes was the only warning I got before he moved across the room faster than I thought was possible. He folded around me, squeezing me in a bear hug as he rubbed his goo-covered face over mine. I squealed, trying to get away from him, but Braden laughed, scooping ‘ectoplasm’ off his tuxedo as he pushed my wig off and rubbed the gunk into my hair. We got into a wrestling match, except the goal was to cover the other as much as possible in the green crap.

  My shoe slipped on said gunk, my leg flying out beneath me. In Braden’s attempts to right me, his own feet slipped. “Whoa!” He wrapped his arms around my waist as we fell so that he landed on the floor and I landed on him.

  A few seconds after impact and Braden’s pained grunt, I pushed up off him to look into his face. As soon as our eyes met we burst out laughing again.

  We laughed so hard my stomach hurt.

  Wiping at my eyes, I rolled off him so I could lie on the floor at his side.

  “So much for sexy desk time.”

  Braden huffed. “What’s not sexy about ectoplasm and James Bond?”

  I chuckled. “Now there’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear.” I pushed up onto my elbows to gaze down my body at my now ruined lingerie. “This was expensive underwear.”

  “Well this tuxedo was a rental.”

  I glanced at it, smiling. “Woops. There goes your damage deposit.”

  “Note to self: Ban anyone dressed as the Ghostbusters next year.”

  “Yup,” I agreed. “So what now?”

  His gazed roamed over me. “Now I get you home so I can wash the ectoplasm off you.”

  “Ooh… will you replace the ectoplasm with an orgasm?” I grinned. “See what I did there?”

  Braden nodded solemnly. “My girl is sexy and smart.”

  “I did go to college you know.” I attempted to get to my feet elegantly, but slipping again in the goo kind of destroyed my efforts. Luckily I managed to keep my balance this time. Carefully, I walked around the desk and retrieved my dress. I shot the desk a forlorn look. “Maybe next time.”

  “Definitely next time,” Braden promised, slipping up behind me. He pressed a kiss to my bare shoulder. “Once I get you in that shower, you’ll forget all about the desk.”

  Very much looking forward to that, I quickly dressed, took Braden’s outstretched hand, and followed him back out of the office.

  We were heading through the crowds when the glow of white caught my attention. I turned my head, spotting the four Ghostbuster guys in the corner. My gaze moved over them, landing on the water gun that had been modified to hold goo, and I pulled on Braden’s hand. He stopped, looking over his shoulder at me in question.

  I held up a finger. “One second.”

  With that I pushed through the crowd and ripped the water gun out of Ghostbuster number one’s grip.

  “Hey!” he yelled, his face scrunching up in petulance.

  I held the water gun up as the four came toward me.

  I let fire, swinging it back and forth until it was empty.

  The Ghostbusters stared at me in shock through layers of glopping green slime.

  Handing back the water gun to a dazed number one, I shrugged. “That’s for ruining sexy desk time.”

  Making my way back toward Braden I looked up into his eyes. He stared back at me calmly and held out his hand. “Feel better?”

  “I will do once we have sexy shower time.”

  He nodded and pulled me into his side as we walked down the stai
rs toward the exit. “Sexy shower time coming up.”

  “Happy Halloween!” Two drunk girls dressed as fairies yelled at us as we exited the club.

  I touched my hair, grimacing at the clump of goo Braden had mushed into it. I looked up at him, eyeing the goo in his own hair. At least we were gooey together.

  “Happy Halloween.” I kissed his cheek and wrapped my arm around his waist letting him lead me home.

  8

  An On Dublin Street Christmas

  The smell of coffee and cinnamon teased my curious eyes open and I pushed lazily up onto my elbow, grinning at Braden. He stood over our rumpled bed wearing a long-sleeved pajama top and matching pants.

  Boo to winter for stealing my naked Braden time.

  Strands of his gorgeous, dark hair flew out in different directions courtesy of my fingers and the rough treatment they’d given it when Braden had gifted me my first Christmas present of the morning. A stocking filler, he’d called it before he’d pushed my legs open and well… filled me.

  Sigh.

  I eyed the mugs of cinnamon-topped coffee in his hands. “Another present?” I asked as I took my mug from him. He placed his coffee on the bedside table before getting back into bed with me. I snuggled into his side as he reached back for the coffee and once he was settled I knocked my mug against his. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas,” he murmured and pressed a soft kiss to my lips.

  Mmm, he tasted good. He tasted Christmassy.

  Braden shot me a teasing look when he pulled back. “Definitely better than last year so far.”

  Un-amused at the reminder, I flipped him the bird. He threw his head back in laughter.

  Last year we’d spent Christmas day barely saying a word to each other, passing time in awkward conversation, swapping overly expensive Christmas gifts, and lending support to Ellie as she anticipated her upcoming surgery to remove tumors from her brain. The surgery part had obviously not been my fault. The weirdness with Braden had been. I’d broken up with him. I’d messed up hugely, terrified of being in love with him, and terrified of losing him.

  I’d given him the run-around and it hadn’t been easy on him.

  Every now and then he’d mention it and my guilt transformed me into a rampant sex goddess, bent on making it up to him.

  Well, he’d already gotten sex this morning and I was getting wise to his manipulation.

  “It’s Christmas. You can’t pull that card. You get presents instead.”

  Braden pouted comically. “I just want sex.”

  “Tough. You’ve had sex. Now you get a sweater.”

  “A sweater?”

  “It’s cold outside.”

  “I own plenty of sweaters.” He eyed me in disappointment. “You seriously bought me a sweater for Christmas? And then told me before I opened it? Why bother wrapping it?”

  “Maybe it’s a special Christmas sweater.”

  “Does it have a reindeer on it smoking a hash pipe?”

  I snorted. “No.”

  “Then it’s not a special sweater.”

  Laughing, I shook my head. “Maybe it’s pieced together with Velcro so that when I feel like having my wicked way with you I can just tear the damn thing off. That’s pretty special.”

  Braden took a sip of his coffee. “You didn’t buy me a sweater, did you?”

  “No! Who do you think I am? Your Aunt May?”

  “I don’t have an Aunt May.”

  “I know that. I’m just saying that only Aunt May’s buy sweaters. If your girlfriend buys you a sweater on your first freaking Christmas together you kick that tool to the curb.”

  Lips twitching, Braden’s eyes glittered as he stared into mine. “Even if you’d bought me a sweater I wouldn’t kick you to the curb.”

  I felt my stomach flip flop and wondered if I’d ever get used to his scrumptiousness. “Really?”

  “No way. Far too uncomfortable to have sex on a curb.”

  “Oh, ha ha.” I rolled my eyes at him. “Funny man.”

  He was still grinning as he nodded his head towards the door. “Let’s open our presents before Ellie and Adam get here.”

  I reluctantly got out of our warm bed, shrugging on a thick robe and slippers, hugging the mug of hot coffee to my body as I followed Braden out of our bedroom and into the sitting room.

  Ellie had complained to me about our Christmas decorations. Last year the flat had a big ass Christmas tree in it, as well as strings of tinsel arching every door, hanging from every window, and trimming the mantel on the fireplace. All Ellie’s doing. Braden and I were a little more low-key. This year there was not a single rope of tinsel to be found. Instead we’d bought a classy non-traditional white Christmas tree that stood in the window and had our little pile of presents under it. The window was lined with pale, twinkling fairy lights and I’d draped more fairy lights through decorative reeds I had in a large vase in the corner of the room.

  I liked Christmas and this was Christmassy enough for us. Ellie and Adam’s flat looked like Santa had dropped around for a party, had too much to drink and puked up Christmas everywhere.

  That was Ellie. Clutter freak.

  God love her.

  I sat down on the sofa and waited patiently, content, as Braden brought out piles of presents out from under the tree and placed them at our feet. “You go first,” I murmured, pointing to one of his smaller gifts.

  We commenced the unwrapping of presents, having bought each other silly little things that made one another laugh, and things we’d overheard the other saying we needed. Braden had also bought me some very lovely and very expensive jewelry. I thought the diamond earrings and matching necklace was my main present, but he insisted he’d kept the most important gift for last, just as I had.

  We stared at the last two gifts.

  “You first,” I said again, feeling a little nervous.

  Braden took off the paper and then opened the slim box, his eyes lighting up when he saw the Rolex Submariner in steel with the emerald green dial. He’d been ogling the damn thing online for months but couldn’t bring himself to buy it since he didn’t need it. It was a nice gift, one I knew he loved, but it wasn’t the whole gift.

  “Turn it over,” I murmured, and my heart rate sped up as I awaited his reaction.

  Brows furrowed, Braden turned the watch over and held it up in the light. On the back of the Rolex he found the inscription: Braden, Yours Forever, Love Jocelyn x

  It was the most sentimental gift I’d ever given him. I didn’t say I love you a lot, and though I knew he knew that I loved him, I wanted him to know that I had no plans to ever stop loving him.

  When he looked up from the inscription his eyes were dark with heat and emotion. “It’s beautiful, babe, thank you.”

  I smiled shyly. “You’re welcome.”

  “Open yours now,” he ordered gently, shoving his sleeve up so he could put on the watch. He looked up at me from under his long lashes, sensing my gaze was still on him. He grinned. “It’s never coming off.”

  Relieved my gift had gone over so well with him I smiled and then picked up my last present. I unwrapped it. It was a box. It felt pretty heavy. I opened it, my hands freezing over the contents. Nestled in tissue paper was a photograph inside a modern, clear crystal photo frame. The photograph was of me and Braden standing by Mons Meg at Edinburgh Castle. We were wrapped around each other, kissing.

  Ellie must have taken it when the four of us visited the castle during the summer. I thought I’d seen all the photographs Ellie had taken that day but clearly Braden had asked her to keep this one aside. Only he knew what the cannon meant to me, that it was my special place, and that made his gift that much more special.

  I loved it. It wasn’t one of those cheesy, ‘hey, look how cute we are as we pose for the camera’, pictures. It was a candid shot of an unaware couple stealing a kiss.

  I picked it up, about to tell him how great I thought it was, when I realized there was more. Und
er the photograph was another framed photograph. I lifted it, my fingers trembling, and I saw that underneath this one was another.

  They were photographs taken out of the photo album I’d retrieved from my family’s self-storage unit in Virginia at the beginning of the year. I’d thrown away a lot of stuff, but I’d taken the photo album home back to Scotland with me. For the past ten months I kept saying I was going to get some frames for my favorite shots and put them up in the sitting room, but I’d kept putting it off, still fearing the thought of going through the album again.

  So Braden had done it for me.

  I gazed down at the photograph of me holding my baby sister, Beth. I looked so different, and not because I was just a kid. There was a light in my eyes that had since gone out. Braden and Ellie had done a lot to try and put it back and it was almost there, but there would always be that tiny shadow in the back of my eyes. I missed the eyes of the girl in this photograph. The other photograph was of my mom and dad kissing. It too was a candid shot, but one I had taken during a picnic down by the river.

  They photos were perfect.

  Absolutely perfect.

  I looked up at him, determined to keep the sheen of tears out of my eyes. I think I failed.

  “Shouldn’t I have…?” Braden asked quietly, seeming worried.

  Shaking my head, I wrapped my hand around the nape of his neck and pulled him down for a long, slow kiss. When I pulled back I rested my forehead on his. “They’re perfect.” I sighed, smiling teasingly. “You know, I think I might kind of love you.”

  He chuckled against my lips. “I think I might kind of love you, too.”

  Our front door suddenly slammed and Ellie’s voice rang through the flat, “Merry Christmas!”

  Braden cursed under his breath. “We need to take that bloody key off her.”

  The rest of the day was relaxing and fun and exactly how Christmas should be. Braden and I made breakfast for Ellie and Adam, swapping Christmas morning stories without mentioning the naughty parts since that would just freak Braden and Ellie out, seeing as they were brother and sister and all. Afterwards, once Braden and I were washed and dressed for the day, we jumped in a cab and headed over to Ellie’s mom’s house for Christmas Day. Elodie Nichols was an awesome cook and the rest of the Nichols was kind of my adopted family now. It would be weird to spend Christmas without them. Declan, Ellie’s ten year old half-brother was hyper as all hell, bounding from one present to the next and one person to the next, showing off his presents to anyone who could be bothered to listen. He had a captive audience since we all thought he was pretty cute. Although I did learn that giving a kid that much chocolate in the morning wasn’t the best idea if you were looking for a headache-free day.