by Tessa Teevan
Her voice sounds a little shaky, and I have to think on how I want to approach this. I decide to go for complete honesty. “I guess, for most people, it might seem weird. But do I think it’s a mistake? Hell no. Do you?” I ask, though I’m not sure I want to hear the answer.
“No,” she answers instantly. “I don’t. I guess I just wanted to hear that you agree.”
I hold my arm out. “Come here,” I request, and she scoots in close, snuggling against my chest. “Here’s what I think. We were drawn together the first time we met, even if I do only remember bits and pieces. For some reason, even though I was an ass, you still spent time with me, though I have no idea why. And then we just went through something pretty damn traumatic together. I think it’s natural that we have this connection. There’s no one else I’d rather be with right now. Nowhere else I’d rather be. And if it fizzles eventually, like I know most relationships do, then it’ll fizzle. Until then, I want to explore this attraction.”
“I know you’re right and I want that, too. It’s just been kind of a whirlwind. From the accident, to opening my big mouth with my lie, and then by default ending up moving in with you.”
I bring my hand up to her mouth, tracing an outline over her lips. “Hey, I happen to love this big mouth. And while I love the lie you told, I can’t wait to see what else it can do.”
She laughs and pushes my hand away. “Okay, you perv, I think those meds are kicking in. Let’s get some sleep. Who the hell knows what tomorrow will bring?”
“Tomorrow will probably bring a few nosy females from my family and hopefully their men to rein them in,” I tell her, knowing that Mom won’t be able to resist stopping by. Since it’s the Wellington brunch day, I’m half expecting them to decide that brunch will be here.
Ariana shifts, her hand coming to rest on my chest. My fingers absentmindedly stroke her arm. “I don’t know everything that happened in the past,” she says. “Just the few things you mumbled on about when we met. But, Branson, your family loves you. Whatever happened in the past, I think they’ve left it there. I hope that, with time, you’ll be able to do the same.”
Swallowing hard, I still my fingers. “I know,” I say simply, leaning down and placing a kiss on her head.
“Good. Now get some sleep. Night, Branson,” she says sleepily.
“Night, baby.”
She sighs, and I close my eyes, thinking about what she said. She’s right. I know that my family loves me. And I’m finally starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, one of these days, I’ll deserve it.
SOFT STUBBLE is tickling my face as I wake up the next morning, and before I even open my eyes, I’m smiling. I’m pressed up against a warm body, my leg tangled over Branson’s good one, my arm wrapped around his lean waist. After having had the most amazing night of sleep, I roll over and away from him as I stretch my limbs, feeling like a cat who’s just had the most relaxing nap in the warm sunshine. Only it was a full night’s sleep and the warmth was radiating off a gorgeous man, not some giant orb in the sky.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I hear, and I can’t resist the urge to smile again.
I pop one eye open and see that Branson’s still lying flat on his back, watching me with a heated expression. As my eyes wander down his body, I spot the tent in the sheet and pull my lower lip between my teeth, a nervous habit I’ve never been able to break.
Pushing up from the bed, I move until I’m sitting next to him with my legs crossed. “Not going anywhere. I just didn’t want to crowd you.”
He grins, and it’s mouthwatering. Panty melting. Heart squeezing. “You aren’t crowding me, baby. I mean, yeah, it’s been a long damn time since I’ve woken up with someone in my bed, and I’m a bit out of practice, but I sure as hell like it.”
“Yeah? Well, this is a first for me, waking up with someone, so I wasn’t sure how to act.”
His eyebrows draw together. “What do you mean? You’ve never slept in the same bed as someone?” he asks, his tone incredulous.
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep my face straight. “I’ve never slept with anyone,” I tell him, ready to double over in laughter as his eyes widen until they’re as big as saucers.
He sits up¸ wincing from moving too quickly, then rests his back against the headboard. “Wait. What? You haven’t? So when I mentioned not consummating until the wedding night? You actually were waiting for that?”
Knowing that my laughter is about to bubble over, I look away to try and compose myself, but it’s no use. I shake my head, and he looks even more confused. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. The look on your face when you thought I was a virgin? That was freaking priceless!” I fall back onto the bed, lost in my giggles. When I finally calm down, I open my eyes and see him glaring at me.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” he growls, and I go still, finding that I love the sound of it.
I shake my head, and he just cocks an eyebrow as he crooks a finger at me, beckoning for me to come closer. I readily comply, crawling across the bed until I get to him. He pats his lap, and I straddle his waist as he grabs hold of mine.
“I should spank you for that,” he threatens, moving a hand down from my waist to cup my ass.
A shiver runs down my spine at the thought. I’ve never experienced that. I’ve only read about it in my romance novels, but the idea of Branson’s palm coming down hard on my ass actually turns me on.
“Maybe you should,” I whisper, pushing my ass back into his hand, daring him to do so.
He leans up and peppers kisses along my jaw then down my neck, biting and sucking before retracing his kisses until his lips land on mine. “Is that what you want?” he asks, his lips still pressed against my mouth
My mind is dizzy as my heart races, and his lips still as he awaits my answer. “I… I think I do,” I mumble.
I barely get the words out before his tongue slides into my mouth, tangling with mine. My hands move up to the back of his neck, my fingers gripping his hair as his hand continues to grip my ass.
All too soon, he pulls away, leaving me breathless and wanting more, so much more. He grins up at me, seemingly unaffected, and if his hard length weren’t currently pressed up against my boxer-covered pussy, I’d nearly be offended. But even if he looks calm, cool, and collected, I know he’s not.
“Well then, baby, I guess we’ll be spending a lot of time in here. Seeing as how you’re a virgin and all, we’ll have to work up to the kinky stuff,” he says, giving me a wink.
I laugh, pushing against his shoulder. “Must you ruin every single moment, Branson? You’re such a mood killer,” I tease.
His expression changes and I sober almost instantly. “I didn’t like waking up in the living room without you,” he reveals, causing my heart to sink.
“Bran—” I start, but he pinches my ass and shakes his head.
“Let me finish.”
I shut up immediately so he can continue.
“I’d been dreaming, and when I woke up alone, for a split second, I thought I’d dreamt you. Or that you’d left me.”
His hand moves up to the hem of the boxers I’m wearing, and he’s now stroking the skin on the small of my back. That, combined with his sweet words, makes me want to melt.
Leaning in, I press my forehead to his. “I won’t leave, Branson. Not until you tell me to.”
His eyes rise to meet mine, and there’s a strange mixture in their expression that’s hard to read. Hopeful. Fearful. Surprise. I’m not sure what, but it’s unnerving. “And what if I never do?”
I suck in a deep breath at his question. Then I sit up and give him a small smile, not sure if I know how to answer it. “Well…then I guess eventually we’ll have to redefine temporary.”
He rests back against the headboard, shaking his head. “I can’t do anything other than temporary, Ari. That’s all I can offer,” he says, causing my heart to constrict.
He’s contradicting himself in the
worst way, and I have a feeling that he’s just as confused as I am. Part of me wants to reel myself back in before my emotions get the best of me and I start to fall for a man who’s emotionally unavailable. The other part of me doesn’t care if my heart gets broken, because at least, for a little while, I’ll know what it’s like to truly be wanted. It’s an internal struggle, but the latter eventually wins out.
“I get that, Branson. And I have zero expectations. We’ll have fun while this lasts, and then we’ll part ways. No harm done.” Even as I say the words, I know I won’t walk away from this unscathed. But the damage will be more than worth it in the end, and if I crawl back to Atlanta with my tail tucked between my legs, at least I’ll be doing it with the memories of my time with him.
He nods then runs his thumb along my jaw. “Good,” he says, his voice husky. He clears it before giving me a cocky smirk. “And while you’re here, you’re with me.” I nod, and he shakes his head. “I mean with me. As much as I want you, I won’t push you on the sexual stuff. Much,” he says, that grin letting me know that he won’t entirely let it go. Not that I want him to. “What I mean is, no more waking up alone. Whether it’s in my bed, on the couch, or on the fuckin’ floor, you’re mine. In my arms. You got that?”
I shouldn’t like this, but his possessive tone is like an aphrodisiac, and moisture floods the boxers I’m wearing. It’s ownership in its most primal form, and I like the idea of being his for the time being.
As I struggle not to rock against his erection, I raise an eyebrow. “You know, I’ve never been really good at taking orders. Look how well it worked out for the last guy.”
It’s obviously the wrong thing to say. A scowl forms over his gorgeous features, and this time, both hands move down to my ass, gripping tightly. “That’s because he wasn’t man enough to know the difference between knowing how to possess his woman body and soul and having her be a possession. There’s a huge fucking difference. Make no mistake, baby. I love that you’re seeking your independence. That you left the asshole who thought he could control you. I don’t want that. But when you’re in my home, in my bed, I will own you. I’ll own this,” he growls as he digs his fingers into my ass. “You will be completely and utterly mine. And I can admit I like to have full control. That doesn’t mean there won’t be times where your mouth is sucking my cock so good that I can’t help but surrender to you and let you do your thing. That’s how a real man owns his woman, baby, and that’s how I’ll own you.”
“Wow,” I whisper then blush crimson red, not having meant for the word to escape my lips. He chuckles then loosens his hold on me. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Let it marinate, baby. I know this is new for you.” His grin is cocky and knowing.
“It’s new…but wow. That was hot,” I murmur, causing him to chuckle again.
He leans up and presses a kiss to my lips. “Marinate,” he orders.
I nod in compliance. Hell, there won’t be anything else on my mind for the rest of the day, and I already know that no marinating is necessary. I’m primed and ready to go.
My finger comes down to his chest, trailing along the hard ridges of his muscles. “You know, you did say there was a lot for us to work up to. Since we don’t know how long I’ll be here, maybe we should start right away?” My voice is hopeful, and I’m about five seconds away from channeling The Temptations, because this girl sure as hell ain’t to proud to beg.
His hand slides around to my front and rests on my bare thigh, just below the bottom line of his boxers. I inhale sharply as his hand slides up my smooth skin, our eyes locked as he gets closer to my core. He doesn’t make me wait as his forefinger softly brushes over me, and his smile deepens.
“You really are ready, aren’t you, baby?”
I breathe out as his finger slides up and down, closing my eyes, enjoying his touch. “Mmmhmm,” is all I manage to get out.
“So wet,” he grumbles. “So fucking ready. All I’d have to do is pull my dick out and it’d slide right into you. You want that, baby?”
“God, yes,” I moan, and it’s almost like an out-of-body experience. Stitches be damned. I’m too far gone to care anymore. All I want is him. All of him. Inside me, right fucking now. My hand comes down the waistband of his basketball shorts, ready to feel him with my bare hand, but he takes hold of my wrist just before I graze his erection.
“Wait,” he says, and I shake my head. This is one order I don’t want to comply with.
“No, Branson. Don’t tease me. I want you,” I breathe as I try to pull my hand out of his grasp so I can touch him.
“Ari, stop,” he orders.
I open my eyes at the gruffness of his tone, finally registering that, while his finger is still touching me, it’s no longer moving. I have no idea what his problem is, but humiliation washes over me as I wonder if I was reading too much into things. Oh God. What if he doesn’t want me after all?
Yanking my wrist out of his hand, I go to move off him, but he takes hold of my waist and holds me still.
“Stop,” he says, but I keep wriggling. “Woman, stop it. Now.”
And I do. Looking down at him, I see amusement in his eyes, and I feel even more like an idiot.
“Sorry. I thought… I mean… God, I just threw myself at you,” I wail, covering my eyes with my hands. “I’m an idiot.”
His answering chuckle does little to appease me. His hands come up and he takes mine away from my face. “Look at me,” he says.
Even though I don’t want to, I know he’ll just make me anyway, so I lift my eyes to meet his. The desire is still there, and now, I’m more confused than ever.
He presses a fingertip to my closed lips. “Shh. And just wait for it.”
I’m puzzled, and I have no idea what he’s talking about…until I hear it.
The damn doorbell.
My eyes widen, and he gives me an apologetic smile.
“How long has that been ringing?” I ask.
“Since right before you tried to touch my dick. And it’s a good thing, too, because if it’d been two seconds later, I would’ve been too far gone from touching you and would’ve have been able to tune it out the way you did.”
“I thought you changed your mind about wanting me,” I admit, feeling foolish.
He takes hold of my hand and places it between us on his rock-hard cock. “Does that feel like I don’t want you?” he asks, and I bite my lip as I shake my head. “Exactly. And if I’m correct, the person at the door is my mom, and if I know her, she probably has the whole family with her. So why don’t you go answer the door so I can try to calm down and get rid of this thing?”
Oh Jesus. “Your mom? You want me to answer the door?!” He nods, and I shake my head. “Couldn’t I just stay here and help get rid of it?” I ask hopefully.
“Sorry, baby, but if one of us doesn’t answer that door in, I’d guess, the next sixty seconds, we’re going to find ourselves in an embarrassing situation, and, well, you’re the one with two good legs.”
I lean down and press a kiss to his lips before I hop off the bed. “You’re going to owe me for this, Branson Wellington,” I tell him.
“Don’t worry, baby. I always make good on my debts.”
“I’m holding you to that.”
“You can hold me to anything you like.”
Shaking my head, I leave the bedroom and make my way down the hall just as the front door opens. I stop in my tracks, and sure enough, in walks Amelia Wellington, a tray under each arm. And behind her, I see the rest of them. The entire Wellington clan has come along for the cock-blocking ride.
At first, they don’t see me, but once they’re all in the foyer, their chatter ends in a domino effect as each pair of eyes falls on me, one second after the other. I don’t miss the way Amelia’s eyes slightly falter—presumably because I’m not wearing that little nightie she left me. But then her eyes rake over me and a huge grin spreads over her face at my ensemble.
A warm blu
sh creeps up my neck when I look down. Even though I’m practically swimming in his T-shirt, my hard nipples are clearing poking through the material. When I look back up, Branson’s dad is looking anywhere but at me and Cohen and Knox both have huge shit-eating grins on their faces. I glare at them and cross my arms, covering the state of my arousal. Charlie’s grin equals her fiancé’s. Well, it does until she turns to look at him, hitting him and then smacking Cohen on the forehand, calling them perverts in the process.
So here we are. I’m stuck like a deer in headlights with the Wellington men reverting their eyes. Amelia’s looking at me like I’m the most beautiful diamond in all of Tiffany’s, and Charlie and Andi, now that their men aren’t looking, are practically snickering. I’m mortified and have half a mind to turn and run back to the room, locking myself in until they leave.
Finally, Charlie breaks the silence and strides towards me, placing her arm around my shoulders and turning me around. “Apparently, we weren’t expected,” she quips, raising an eyebrow in Amelia’s direction. I crane my neck just in time to see her smile sheepishly. “Ari, why don’t you go and get dressed and maybe fetch that man of yours? We’ll set everything up in the kitchen in the meantime.”
I smile and mouth a silent, “Thank you,” then race down the hallway and into Branson’s room, shutting the door behind me with a little bit more force than I expected.
“Jesus Christ, Branson. You could’ve warned me that my nipples were hard. Or maybe about the possibility that your entire family would be showing up at ten a.m. on a Sunday?”
“Oh God, talk about your nipples a little bit more,” he groans.
“My nipples?” I ask as I turn towards the bed, ready to chastise him. I stop suddenly when I see his hand moving up and down under the comforter.
“Oh fuck yeah. Can’t wait to get my mouth on those,” he breathes, which is followed by a grunt.
My eyes widen as I realize what he’s doing, and I move towards the bed just in time to see him rest his head back against the pillow, his eyes closing, his movements stopping. I can’t help the snicker that forms, and he pops open one eye to look at me.