He’d taken me by complete surprise that night, moving against me in the dark, the truck’s headlights illuminating the look on his face while his hands roamed my body and ignited me. Braden wasn’t known as a romantic guy, in fact—he’d been known as a dirty player. I had never seen him dance at a single school dance, but I’d watch him make out with countless girls against his locker, which happened to be three down from mine.
He used to pull my hair and drive me crazy, then he started being nice to me and flirting with me. The make out sessions with girls against his locker stopped and he started asking me out. His persistence got me interested—I couldn’t figure out why he wanted to take me out so badly. I’d always found him attractive, there wasn’t a single girl in Parry Sound that didn’t—except maybe Tessa, but it turned out she just had an eye for the other Miller brother. In the end, my curiosity got the best of me and I said yes.
We had our first kiss during that dance, and never in my whole life had I been kissed the way Braden Miller kissed me. His hands tangled in my hair and his lips softly pressed against mine. He barely put any tongue into it, but it was the most erotic kiss I’d ever had, only ever matched by future kisses from Braden. I felt that kiss in every fibre of my body, and I knew then and there that I wanted every single thing he had to offer me.
I started to fall in love with him that night, propelled by the way he looked into my eyes and the way he kissed me.
Being in his arms again like this had me remembering all of the good times we had, every little romantic thing he’d do for me to show me that he cared. We had a lot of wonderful moments, before we fell apart.
Was it fair to completely shut him out for the one mistake he’d made during our time together? A mistake that had been made when he’d just lost his mother and was beside himself with grief?
Granted, it was a big mistake. A huge mistake, and forgiving wouldn’t come easily, but Braden had made it perfectly clear that he’d be patient.
And in that particular moment, with his hands still on my hips and our bodies flush together; all I could think about was how badly I wanted to lose myself completely in him.
I wanted to turn off all of my fears and insecurities and escape into the way he loved me; into the way I loved him.
The song ended and For The Outlaws by Moonshine Bandits kicked on, the bass vibrating the dance floor. Tessa screeched and ran at me, the grin on her face ecstatic. She dragged me to the centre of the oak floor, and we started rapping the verses back and forth. Braden watched us, an amused grin on his lips and his eyes lighting up.
Back in the day, this had been a regular occurrence, Tessa and I going nuts over songs we loved and singing like it was karaoke night at O’Riley’s bar. Braden would watch our antics with a bemused smile.
Every single body was on the dance floor, which wasn’t all that surprising considering the oldest guests invited were my mom and Tessa’s dad—and both of them could out dance us all.
They reminded us of that fact when Country Girl (Shake It) by Luke Bryan pumped out of the speakers and they started to do the cowboy boogie together, practically burning up the dance floor with their moves.
“Oh snap! Look at Dad and Sue! I think they’re challenging us to a dance off!” Tommy laughed into the microphone, the music fading as he spoke and returning as soon as he stopped.
Those of us brave enough to remain on the floor formed a line and joined in. I danced beside Tessa and Braden, with Brock on Tessa’s other side and Krista on Braden’s right. It was hard to keep up with Bill and Mom, but every single person on the dance floor was having a blast trying.
Mom’s experience came from years of beauty pageant concerts and dance competitions, so her talent didn’t surprise me. Luckily, she had passed on her love of dance—and her rhythm—to me. She’d enrolled me in dance classes as soon as I could walk, and I had no problem keeping up. Tessa struggled a little bit more, forever off rhythm by half a second, but she knew the routine like the back of her hand from years of dance parties in my living room whenever she slept over.
Bill though, Bill surprised me. “I didn’t know Papa Armstrong could dance!” I exclaimed to Tessa, delighted with the whole thing. She seemed every bit as surprised as I was by this development.
When Everly Daniels joined us on the dance floor, Tessa made room for her between us. She fell into step effortlessly, her gaze focused on her fiancé as he stood just off to the side. She kept motioning for him to join her, but he shook his head, an indulgent smile on his face as he held his hands up. “I would do anything for love, but I won’t do that,” he joked, backing away to the sidelines.
We continued to dance, the songs rolling from one upbeat country tune to another. I only paused to down champagne when I got thirsty.
An hour, maybe even two hours, passed and Tessa’s dad stepped up to the microphone. The DJ stopped the music, and everyone turned to see what the big deal was. “Alright, now I’m not sure how many of you are familiar with the Dance of the Unwed Sibling,” he started, pausing to let the words sink into the crowd.
“Hell no, Dad!” Gordon and Tommy’s protests came quickly, and Bill chuckled into the microphone, his eyes twinkling.
“This tradition was intended to embarrass the happy couple’s older, unwed siblings by forcing them to wear ugly socks while dancing to raise money for the bride and groom. Gordon and Tommy, Tessa’s older, unwed brothers, get your asses out on the dance floor. Sue’s got your ugly socks, hand knitted by Myrtle Henderson herself!” Bill grinned wickedly, scratching at his auburn beard. I snorted with laughter—Myrtle Henderson was nearly ninety-eight years old and still knitting up the storm. I think everybody in town had something hand knitted by Myrtle, myself included.
“Come on Dad!” Tommy grinned, shaking his head.
“Lord knows, you two knuckleheads have embarrassed Tessa enough, so it’s time she got some revenge. Your dancing skills should suffice.”
Gordon and Tommy tugged on the florescent coloured woollen socks while the opening rift for Boot Scootin’ Boogie played. Sue tossed fuzzy blue cowboy hats at them.
While they couldn’t dance, Gordon and Tommy certainly knew how to entertain. Guests were throwing down crisp bills like crazy. I clapped along with everyone else, praying that Tessa’s videographer was getting this all on film.
When I looked back out to the dance floor, I saw Braden laying down with a twenty-dollar bill between his teeth. Tommy saw him and danced his way over. He dropped down over top of Braden and did some kind of horrifying stripper inspired dance move, shaking his chest in Braden’s face before he leaned down and grabbed the bill with his own mouth.
I was doubled over, my stomach aching from laughing so hard.
“Was this your idea?” Tessa asked me, tears in her eyes, her cheeks flushed and glowing.
“Nope, I think it was all Bill,” I answered, lifting my eyebrows, impressed. “Possibly with a little help from my mom.”
Another two hours passed. The cake was cut, multiple bathroom trips with a drunk bride were made.
The champagne kept flowing, and I had gotten further and further away from the guilt I’d felt over Alex. It wasn’t that I no longer felt bad, because I did…but the alcohol just made me focus on the good things, like how much fun I was having at Tessa’s wedding, with Braden, with the way he was looking at me, and the feeling of his hands on my body as we twirled around the dance floor to Lee Brice’s I Don’t Dance.
Tessa hadn’t been the only person forced to endure learning dance routines. Admittedly, I had spent one summer afternoon on the front porch, teaching Braden how to do the country swing. He had more rhythm than Tessa, and picked up the moves quickly, although swore me to secrecy and only danced like that with me around.
Except, Braden didn’t seem to care that we weren’t alone, that every eye in the large glittery tent was on us. His eyes remained on me, on my body, reading it and anticipating all of my moves.
It was getting closer to
two o’clock in the morning, and my feet were beginning to ache. Only a handful of guests had disappeared, Brock and Tessa being part of that small group. They were supposed to be at the airport for four a.m. to catch their flight to the Dominican Republic to celebrate their honeymoon.
I wanted to leave too. I was having fun, but the alcohol and the desire in Braden’s molten gaze had me practically withering with need. I wanted to kiss him, I wanted to rub my body against his arousal. I could feel his hard length pressed against my stomach.
“Let’s get out of here,” he murmured, his lips grazing against my earlobe. I shivered, goosebumps erupting and desire throbbing everywhere. I took his hand and weaved around the bodies on the floor, keeping my head low to avoid having to stop to talk to someone. We made it outside, the chill of the night doing nothing to cool off how much I burned for him.
We raced to his truck, both of us impatient to get back to his place. He held my hand the entire drive, his thumb tracing patterns against my palm. Every once in a while, he’d toss a look at me as if he couldn’t believe this was happening.
My heart quickened as we pulled into the driveway of the Miller house. He was out of the cab quicker than I could blink. I unbuckled the seatbelt as he opened the door.
I slid out of the cab, my body against his. He took a step back, then pulled me back against him. Our mouths crashed together hungrily. His hands were everywhere; in my hair, on my breasts, my hips, my ass as he lifted me up and pulled me against his erection. He held me like that for several minutes, kissing me like he’d never stop. I didn’t want him to stop, but I wanted him to hurry up and get me inside.
He regretfully put me down and we practically ran around the side of the house, to the door that led to the basement. He unlocked the door and led me down the stairs. He turned on the light on his bedside table while I looked around, my heart racing.
It was like stepping back in time. Everything was the same way it was in high school, right down to the photo booth pictures on the mirror above his dresser. I swallow hard, remembering the day they had been taken.
Back then, we couldn’t get enough of each other. We didn’t care about getting caught. We were locked in our own world together. I’d never wanted to leave that world, not even when he pushed me out of it.
He took a step towards me. The back of his hand ran up my shoulder, and I closed my eyes as he swept my hair aside and brought his lips to my neck. He kissed me, his mouth worshipping the soft skin there. His hand moved along the back of my neck, searching for the zipper to my dress.
The room was filled with the sound of our bated breath and my zipper dropping. He stopped kissing me for a moment and rested with his forehead pressed against mine. His eyes bore into me, searching. “Are you sure you want to do this, Elle?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life. I need you, Braden,” I whispered honestly. All I could think about was him. Tomorrow, I’d deal with everything else. I just wanted to get lost and forget everything but him for a while.
My body trembled beneath his hesitant fingers. At my words, he pushed the dress over my shoulders and it fell to the ground. I was wearing nothing but a white lace thong. Braden drew in a shaky breath, his finger brushing the inside of the material against my taunt stomach.
His eyes drank me in, his lust filled gaze dragging across every inch of my exposed body. He brought his hands up to cup my breasts, rolling my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. I moaned, leaning into his touch.
Braden brought his head down and took one of my nipples in his mouth, I arched my head back, my hands instinctively going to stroke the front of his pants, finding him hard and straining against the thin material. He involuntary jerked into my hand, his breath hissing out. Tipping my chin back up, he claimed my mouth possessively.
Desperate to have skin to skin contact, my fingers fumbled to free the buttons of his white dress shirt as he continued to kiss me, starved for my taste. I pushed the shirt off his shoulders, letting it drop wherever it fell, and raked my fingers against the hard muscles of his abdomen. I bit down firmly on his bottom lip, trapping his moan with another kiss.
I pushed his pants down over his hips. His dick sprang free, his hot erection falling straight into my waiting hands.
“Commando?” I asked, arching a brow.
“Why not?” he grinned wickedly. His amusement evaporated when I stroked his thick length slowly and brought my lips back up to his.
Suddenly, his hands were back on my hips and he was effortlessly spinning us around. The back of my knees hit the mattress, and I fell onto it, Braden falling with me. He kissed me for a few more minutes, his hand running up and down the length of my body as if he wanted to touch me everywhere and couldn’t decide where he should start first.
His index finger and his thumb dropped to stroke against my damp panties. Every nerve was pulsing with need as he stroked me leisurely, still kissing me like he couldn’t get enough of me.
He tugged aside the fabric and sank two fingers deep inside of me. I stopped kissing him, letting another moan escape my lips as I arched against the palm of his hand.
The look in Braden’s eyes when I finally opened my heavy lids nearly sent me over the edge. He was so concentrated on pleasuring me that the sight of me arching against him made his eyes darken with need.
“You’re so wet and tight,” he said, his voice straining. “God, I want to bury myself in you.”
“What’s holding you back?” I challenged, needing to feel him inside of me.
“The fact that I need to taste you,” he almost growled.
He crawled down and nestled between my legs, and I raised my hips so he could pull my panties off. He tossed them somewhere over his shoulder, his fingers sinking into the tender flesh on my thighs, forcing my legs apart. He ran his tongue tentatively against my opening and moaned. The vibration made me tremble. He worked me with his mouth, kissing and licking and sucking like he could do it forever. He slid two fingers in and out as he licked, and I felt my orgasm coming fast and hard. I arched up off the mattress, my entire body exploding in bursts of sensations.
“Braden, please,” I pleaded, but even as I begged he was already lining himself up to my entrance. His tip brushed against my wetness, and he went rigid.
“Fuck,” he growled, rolling over to reach into his night stand drawer. He was on his back, and I couldn’t wait.
“Forget about the condom, Braden,” I ordered. I didn’t want that stupid barrier, I wanted to feel every inch of his thickness. Maybe it was stupid, maybe I was putting too much faith into him, but I was too drunk on him to care. Crawling on top of him, I slid straight down onto his long, hard cock.
”Elle,” he half-exhaled, half-moaned, his eyes flying open as he looked at me. “Are you on the pill?” he managed, his eyes fluttering closed again as I slowly rolled my hips. His hands gripped against my skin, stilling me as he opened his eyes.
“I’ve got an IUD,” I told him. I rolled my hips again, loving the way his brow furrowed together and how electric his eyes seemed as he watched me move against him. His hands gripped my hips and he started moving me faster and faster. I rode him as hard as I could, almost collapsing on him when the second orgasm hit me.
Braden lifted me off, and I let out a whimper of protest. He positioned himself behind me and grabbed my hips. I watched over my shoulder as he sank back into me, his eyes watching as he pulled out and buried himself inside me again and again, harder and harder until I couldn’t breathe, until I was screaming his name and coming around his cock again.
He came soon after, driving into me. He let out a low moan, and I could feel him pulsing as he shot inside me.
We collapsed, barely tugging the sheets around us. Braden pulled me into his arms. I fell asleep with my head on his chest and his hand gently stroking my back.
* * *
The next morning, I awoke with a headache that almost rivaled the one I’d woken up with after Tessa’
s bridal shower. I was still naked, still in Braden’s bed. Daylight filtered in through the small window, illuminating the room enough for me to see that Braden wasn’t in the bed with me.
I could hear low voices murmuring and someone walking around upstairs, in the kitchen. I became acutely aware of the fact that Becky was probably home now too. She’d had a rare night free when one of Aiden’s friend’s mom’s picked him up from the reception, and she hadn’t come home. I tugged the blankets up over my chest, my mind racing with everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. I knew that Braden had meant every single word that he’d said, and I was tired of fighting my feelings for him. Our reunion was everything I knew it would be and more. I knew there wouldn’t ever be another love like ours, and I didn’t want another one. I wanted this one.
But the overwhelming weight of guilt pressed down on me, robbing me of my happiness. In the light of day, all I could think about was the broken heart I’d caused Alex, and how screwed up the rest of my life was. I still didn’t know what I was supposed to do about work, and I knew I couldn’t live with Alex anymore anyway.
I brushed away the few tears that managed to escape when I heard Braden coming down the stairs. He was dressed in a pair of Calvin Klein pyjama bottoms and carrying two steaming mugs of coffee. He sat down beside me on the edge of his mattress. “Morning,” he said, his voice low and deep. I sat up, my hands wrapping around the hot mug that he held out to me. He kissed me softly, while I savoured the feel of his lips on mine.
“Morning,” I practically croaked when he pulled back. I cleared my throat, my cheeks flushing. “Is Becky home?”
“Yeah, she just got in actually,” Braden chuckled. “Looks like you weren’t the only one doing the walk of shame this morning.”
“Who says I’m ashamed?” I challenged, arching a brow at him. There was no way in hell I could be ashamed of what we shared last night. I could be ashamed about how quickly we shared it, and how I’d hurt Alex in the process—but I could never be ashamed of the actual act. He grinned and shrugged, but I could see the uncertainty that he tried to mask behind his dimpled smile. “Who did she go home with?”
Rebel Heart: (Rebel Series Book 2) ((Rebel Series)) Page 21