Making You Mine – the Bradens & Montgomerys (Pleasant Hill – Oak Falls)

by Melissa Foster

  He frowned, but in the next breath his hand moved down her slick belly, over the belly button ring she’d gotten on a dare in college, and he drew her close again. “Must be stressful for Beau, having an erotic romance writer as a fiancée. Nothing like trying to measure up to fictional sex. I wonder if she fakes it.”

  “Please. Beau is the real deal. A woman may be able to fake a few orgasms, but there is no faking the look of an orgasm-induced coma.”

  “Is that a challenge?” He flashed an arrogant smile as his thumb began teasing over her most sensitive area. “But don’t kid yourself, sweetheart.” He rained kisses down her neck. “You do talk a lot after sex. I know all about your Cheetos fixation and love of eighties movies, that business deal gone bad with the asshole producer, and that you had a massive crush on Tom Selleck when you were a teenager.”

  Her eyes fluttered closed. She didn’t care what he knew, as long as he continued his masterful ministrations. He slid down her body, caressing and tasting, tugging on her belly button ring with his teeth, teasing it with his tongue. Her entire body felt like one raw nerve, and when he finally put his mouth exactly where she needed it, she leaned back against the tile wall, giving in to her desires.

  “That’s my girl. Now, stop worrying about what you told me and let me show you what else I know about you.”

  And he did…several times.

  AFTER THE BEST damn shower since New Year’s Day—when he and Aubrey had last woken up together following an insatiable night spent tangled up in each other’s arms—Knox stood before the bathroom mirror in his slacks and open black button-down, wondering how in the hell he could be sated but not satisfied. He watched Aubrey in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. Her black pencil skirt hugged her curves, and the lace bra she wore begged to be ripped off. Long golden tendrils hung loose and a little wavy over her shoulders. He could still feel the silky strands between his fingers and brushing over his chest. There was a time when he’d been sated and satisfied the mornings after he and Aubrey had been together. He’d been fine with their no-strings-attached hookups. But over the past several months, he’d been thinking about her more often, wondering who she was with and what she was doing in between their hookups, what the parts of her life that he hadn’t experienced with her were like. Hell, he’d even begun texting her between hookups, wanting to keep their connection going long after they left their hotel rooms.

  She rinsed her mouth and leaned one hip on the sink. “Why do you look like you’re trying to puzzle out world peace?”

  He hauled her against him. Her amber eyes flamed with heat, but she instantly grew rigid, placing a hand on his chest.

  “Down, big guy. I’ve got a schedule to keep.”

  She was the fiercest businesswoman he’d ever known, and he respected the hell out of her. The trouble was, she was also the most sensual, passionate creature on earth, and he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Not even when he’d gone to Belize with Graham last fall to kick off an investment project. But Graham had brought Morgyn along, and they’d tied the knot while they were there. They were so happy and in love, it only made Knox think of what he wanted with Aubrey even more. He’d remained overseas long after Graham had returned home, hoping to shake the unfamiliar emotions, but nothing had dimmed his desire to be with her. They clicked as friends, lovers, and in business. They were a perfect match, and she’d not only gotten under his skin, she’d also burrowed into his heart, something no woman had ever accomplished. Not for lack of trying on their part. He liked his traveling, no-strings-attached lifestyle, though Aubrey was changing that. He enjoyed every minute they spent together, and it went far deeper than sex. But she was like the deal he couldn’t make, the most precious jewel even his billions couldn’t buy.

  “Let’s go on a real date,” he suggested. If she’d just slow down enough, she’d realize how good they could be together, too.

  She pushed out of his arms, avoiding eye contact as she dug around in her makeup bag. “What is it with you? First it’s babe this and babe that, and now you’re asking me out? Do you want me to make you my grandmother’s love cookies, too?”

  “Hey, sounds good to me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s one recipe I’ll never make. They’re supposed to be made only for your one true love and all that nonsense. I don’t have time for drama in my life, Knox, and neither do you. It’s why we get along so well.”

  She opened her lipstick and leaned closer to the mirror as she applied it. Why the hell did he enjoy watching her do that? And why couldn’t he stop wondering how many other men had stood where he was? He gritted his teeth and buttoned his shirt, trying not to ask the question that would make him seem pathetic.

  “What?” She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes.

  “You tell me.” He rolled his shoulders back and ran his hand through his hair. When she said nothing, he tried a softer approach and put his arms gently around her, drawing her closer again. “We’re great together, Aubrey. Why not take it out of the bedroom? Give it the weight it deserves. No drama, just dinner.”

  She sighed. “We had dinner at the event last night.”

  “Yeah, with about two hundred other people. I mean just the two of us.”

  “Knox…”

  He pressed his lips to hers, the hell with her freshly applied lipstick. If he couldn’t talk sense into her, he’d remind her how good they were together in other ways. She returned the kiss but was still holding back. He took the kiss deeper until she went soft in his arms. And then he intensified it even more, grabbing her ass and holding her against his hardness. Her fingers dug into his shirt the way he’d come to adore when she wanted more.

  He lifted her onto the counter and slid his hands along her thighs, taking hold of her panties. “Tell me to stop, Aub, and I will.”

  She panted, her eyelids at half-mast, lipstick smeared over her plump lips. “I hate you right now for making me late.” She lifted up, allowing him to take her panties off.

  He wedged himself between her legs and said, “Sure you do.” He brushed his thumb under her lower lip, wiping off the smeared lipstick, and then he kissed her again, slow and sensual. As their lips parted, he trapped her lower lip between his teeth, giving it a taunting tug. He knew his lips were smeared with lipstick too, but he didn’t care. The greedy look in her eyes was what he craved.

  She started unbuttoning his shirt, and he pressed his hand over hers, stopping her. Her brows knitted.

  “We’re good together,” he said again. “Say yes to one date.”

  Her brows rose in amusement. “Knox Bentley, are you saying no to sex unless you get a date?”

  Damn. Was he? “Just say yes, Aubrey.”

  “No,” she said with a seriously hot look in her eyes. “I won’t be blackmailed.”

  “I think you know me better than that.” He took a step back, and she hooked her finger into the waistband of his slacks, pulling him closer. “Change your mind?”

  “No.” She pushed her hand down the front of his pants, palming his erection. “I’m hoping to change yours.”

  “Fuck, Aubrey. You know I want you.”

  “That’s what I like to hear. Now, how about you show me how much before I run out of time.”

  He dropped his pants and said, “How long are you going to hide behind that excuse?”

  “About ten more minutes, if I’m lucky.”

  She slipped off the counter, wrapping her legs around his waist, her body swallowing him to the root. Their mouths crashed together, hips thrusting and grinding. She pushed her hands into his hair, pulling just hard enough to cause a sting of pain, shooting heat to his core. He drove into her faster, harder, as they ate at each other’s mouths. Her legs tightened around him, and he slowed his efforts the way he knew drove her wild. Using his shoulders for leverage, she moved with him, clinging and moaning into their kisses as he took her to the brink of oblivion and held her there.

  She tore her mouth away long enou
gh to plead, “Come with me—”

  She didn’t have to ask twice. He sent them both soaring, and his name sailed from her lips like a chant. “Knox, Knox, Knox—”

  Music to his ears.

  When she collapsed in his arms, her heart thundering against his as she rested her cheek on his shoulder, she said, “God, we’re good at that.”

  “We’re good at everything, Aubrey. One day you’ll see what’s right in front of you.”

  She lifted her head with a coy smile and said, “Don’t you mean inside me?”

  “No, babe.” He brushed her hair from her eyes and said, “I’ve got a hell of a lot more to offer than amazing sex.”

  Chapter Two

  AUBREY WAS SITTING at her desk late Friday afternoon, scouring resort websites, when Presley and Libby sauntered into her office. Libby carried a bottle of wine, and Presley carried three glasses. The three of them were different in many ways, but they’d clicked from the first moment they’d met, and their bond was strong as steel. Just the sight of them made the tightness in Aubrey’s chest relax. She’d spent every minute since leaving Knox Sunday morning visiting resorts and trying to charm resort owners, to no avail.

  “Thank God the cavalry has arrived,” she said as Presley set the glasses on her desk. “I swear I’m ready to ask Charlotte to change her mind about filming the movie at her resort, and I know that’s the last thing she wants to do.”

  Presley lowered herself gracefully into one of two plush leather chairs in front of Aubrey’s desk and crossed her long legs, holding up her glass. “Fill ’er up, Libs.”

  With her vibrant burgundy hair and love of everything designer, Presley always looked like a million bucks. She was a shrewd professional, but beneath her posh exterior was a sensitive woman who had spent years battling her weight, until after college graduation, when she’d dedicated herself to becoming healthier. Aubrey, Libby, and their friend and personal trainer, Trinity, had been with her every step of the way. Presley had always been beautiful, but strength looked amazing on her, and it carried over into every aspect of her life. In addition to Charlotte, Presley was Aubrey’s go-to friend for no-bullshit answers. Presley didn’t coddle. She gave it to her like it was—the good, the bad, and the ugly. Aubrey was happy for her friend’s newfound love, Nolan Banks, who adored everything about her and treated her like gold.

  “My pleasure.” Libby, the demurest of their trio, was the caretaker. She’d lost her brother to spina bifida and honored him by running the Wish Network, one of the state’s most successful charities. She was the sensible, strong, silent type, and when she spoke, everyone listened.

  Libby tucked her wavy brown hair behind her ear, turning a soft gaze to Aubrey, and said, “I checked with Treat Braden, one of our largest donors. You met him at the Christmas party with his wife, Max. He owns several resorts.”

  “Yes, I remember. I asked if he’d played basketball because he was so tall.”

  “That’s him,” Libby said. “He said you can use any of his resorts; just say the word. But he didn’t seem to have any that were as secluded as you’d like. He’s putting out a few feelers for you, though.”

  “Thanks, Libby. It’s a hard location to find, but it’s even harder to find a place that’s willing to close down during filming.” She took a sip of her wine. “Why couldn’t Char have fallen in love at a busy inn instead of one that no longer functioned as a resort?”

  Charlotte had lived in her family’s inn ever since losing her grandfather—her last living relative—right after college graduation. Before Beau came into her life, Charlotte had rarely left her office, spending all her time crafting her novels. They were getting married in June and had begun renovations with plans to reopen the inn. Charlotte seemed happier than ever, but she didn’t want to have the movie filmed at the place she called home. She didn’t want that type of attention, and frankly, Aubrey didn’t blame her.

  Libby settled into a chair and said, “Too bad we don’t have the budget to build a set for the inn, like you’re planning for Snow White’s cottage.”

  Like Charlotte, her great-grandmother had loved fairy tales. Charlotte’s great-grandfather had replicated Snow White’s cottage on the grounds of the inn, and her great-grandparents had lived there. Beau was renovating that cottage for him and Charlotte to live in. Aubrey knew it would be impossible to find anything remotely similar to the unique cottage, which was why they were building their own for the movie.

  “Where would we build an inn?” Aubrey asked. “Besides, this is for Char. It needs to be perfect. I’m just going to keep plugging away until I nail it down.” She had to work fast. They needed to pin down the location and secure the filming dates within the next ninety days or they risked losing their lead actors. No pressure or anything.

  “I knew it would be a massive undertaking. Have you tried sweet-talking one of the resort owners?” Libby suggested.

  Presley scoffed, eyeing Aubrey with amusement over the rim of her glass.

  “Like I’d ever lower myself to that? Hell no, Libs.”

  “I’ve gone through all my connections,” Presley said. “Nolan said he’d ask Carter to see if he knew anyone.” Carter was Nolan’s very competitive brother. He and Nolan had both worked in finance, with high-profile clients, prior to following their passions and opening a pub and brewery in Port Hudson.

  “That’s mighty big of him, asking Carter for help,” Aubrey said. “Then again, the man would do anything for you.”

  Becca rushed into the office like a whirlwind, carrying a giant bouquet of Cheetos and peach roses. She set it on Aubrey’s desk and placed her hands on her hips, surveying their drinks. She embraced her hourglass figure—and fashion from every era. Today she was rocking a seventies minidress with swirls of purple, yellow, orange, white, and aqua. She wore white knee-high boots, and her long blond hair was ironed pin straight and pulled back with a matching colorful headband. From her ears dangled enormous gold peace signs. She was also a graduate of Boyer, and though she was younger than Aubrey and her friends, she’d been an LWW sister, too.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but this just arrived. Drink up, ladies, because there’s more to this little delivery ensemble.” Becca turned and sashayed out of the office.

  “What the heck is that?” Aubrey stood and fished out the card.

  “Looks like someone knows you pretty well,” Presley said. “Libs?”

  Libby held her hand up. “Don’t look at me.”

  Aubrey silently read the card. All the resorts sucked, huh? Figured you needed this today. Knox. “I’m going to kill Becca.”

  “Who’s it from?” Libby came to her side and read the card. “Oh, Mr. Bentley sure does know you.”

  “Becca Nunnally, get your pretty little ass in here,” Aubrey hollered.

  Becca hurried in carrying two six-packs of Stewart’s Orange ’n Cream soda, Aubrey’s favorite. She set them on the desk and said, “Sorry. These came, too, and one more thing.” She stepped out of the office and returned carrying a gift-wrapped box tied with a pretty gold bow and handed it to Aubrey. “Now, you were about to yell at me?”

  Presley and Libby laughed.

  Aubrey narrowed her eyes. “Exactly how does Knox Bentley know the resorts didn’t work out?”

  “Was that a secret?” Becca gasped. “I’m so sorry, Aubrey. I swear that man could charm the panties off a nun. He called while you were at that meeting yesterday afternoon, right after you vented about the resorts to me. I gave you his message when you got back. I believe you crumpled it up and tossed it in my trash can. Anyway, he asked how you were and how the search was going for the resort. He mentioned the places you were visiting like you had already discussed them with him.”

  “Oh boy, Aubs. That’s very boyfriendish. This man is not going to take no for an answer.” Presley reached for a bag of Cheetos, and Aubrey slapped her hand.

  “Hands off. I need them now more than ever. I thought I was firm enough with him that he unders
tood where I stand on the whole dating thing.”

  “If you’re done reprimanding me, I have to run to my boxing class. Okay?” Becca backed toward the door and added, “For what it’s worth, I really like the guy. Like all of Taylor’s clients, he thought she was a guy when he hired her, and when he found out she was a woman last month at the New Year’s Eve party and that her online male personas were for her protection, he didn’t get mad like some of her bosses have. I like a guy who rolls with the punches.” Becca’s sister, Taylor, cared for their ailing father and worked as a virtual assistant for several busy executives.

  Becca flipped her hair over her shoulder and said, “Ciao, ladies!”

  Aubrey’s phone vibrated on her desk as Libby said, “Open the present. You have to admit, Aubrey, he does know you. Most guys would send red roses.”

  She saw a text pop up from Knox and turned her phone upside down. “I hate red roses.”

  “No kidding,” Presley said. “Which is why there’s a massive bouquet of Cheetos and peach roses on your desk. You know, maybe you should give him a chance.”

  Aubrey sighed as she opened the gift box and lifted out a handwritten note taped to a smaller box. She read it aloud. “‘Because I like watching you put it on.’” She lifted her eyes and said, “I’m not sure I want to open this in public.”

  “My ass.” Presley jumped up and grabbed the box.

  “Presley Cabot!” Libby shook her head.

  “You’re no fun.” She handed the box back to Aubrey.

  Aubrey laughed and opened the box slowly, surprised to find a black and gold lipstick container.

  “Oh my gosh.” Presley snagged the gift and inspected it. “Yup. Tom Ford’s Original Sin. You’ve got yourself a classy dirty boy.”

  “Give me that.” Aubrey grabbed the lipstick and set it on the desk. She lifted another note from the box and read it. “‘Because putting on lipstick usually leads to taking these off.’” She shot a look at her friends. “This ought to be good.” She whipped off the lid, and her body tingled at the sight of a black lace thong and matching bra nestled within the tissue paper.