“I wasn’t sure it was you until I was next to you at the light. What were you doing out that way?” he asked.
“I was looking for a drugstore,” she blurted out.
“Oh . . . isn’t there a Walgreens right down the street from your place?” Damn, she should have known he had his brain wired like Google Maps. At least he looked puzzled and not suspicious.
Trying to maintain eye contact, she said, “They weren’t open yet.”
“But there’s also a Walgreens near my house, so wouldn’t both stores have the same hours?” he asked.
“My God, Judge Judy, can we end the questions! I have PMS! Do you need to know what I bought and if I favor pads or tampons?” Emma watched in fascination as a red flush ran up Brant’s neck and settled on his cheeks.
“I . . . shit . . . I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “I shouldn’t have kept pushing you like that.” He turned to go back in his office, then turned back, looking at the floor, “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” She sat on the corner of her desk, surprised at how fast the tide had turned. Brant went from twenty questions to running from her. She hadn’t seen him move that fast since he figured out what kind of book her mom’s book club was discussing. She definitely owed Suzy one. It had saved her from what was potentially a very embarrassing conversation.
Brant leaned back with his feet propped on his desk, taking a moment to relax. The day had been nonstop busy and, truthfully, he had hidden like a coward in his office since embarrassing himself with Emma first thing in the morning. He’d been so surprised to see her near his house on his drive to work and had hoped for a moment that she was stopping by because she wanted to see him. He thought maybe he had imagined the whole thing until he pulled beside her car at the light. She had looked him straight in the eye and turned the other way at a fast clip. He still thought it was kind of strange that she would come to a pharmacy near his house when she lived in a busy area with plenty of stores. He knew, though, that you never questioned a woman about the choices she made at that time of the month. He had only continued to question her because he was disappointed that she hadn’t been in the area to see him. Pathetic, but true.
Emma walked into his office carrying a bag. She plopped it on his desk and settled in the chair across from him. “Hey, babe,” he said before remembering where they were. She smiled in return, seeming to enjoy his slip of the tongue.
“Hey, yourself. I thought you might be hungry since you haven’t had a chance to leave today.” She chuckled as he looked at the bag warily.
“Don’t worry. I actually picked it up in the cafeteria on my way up so it should be fresh. It’s just a bowl of chili and some cornbread. I figured you might like something new,” she finished with a smirk. She knew he hated the soggy sandwiches that she usually brought back for him.
Brant opened the lid, inhaling appreciatively. “Wow, this smells great, thanks.” He swallowed a bite of the chili as she got up to leave. “Wait, Em. I’ve barely talked to you since we got back. Do you . . . want to go to dinner or something tonight? I’d love to see you . . . away from here.”
Her eyes softened. “I’d like that. How about I cook dinner for us?”
Brant smiled, thinking the evening would sound even more promising if she hadn’t admitted to having her period this morning. What the hell, at this point he’d be happy to just spend time with her. They talked while he finished his lunch. He stood to give her a quick kiss of thanks just as Mark DeSanto walked in without warning. “Am I interrupting?” By the leer on his face, Brant could tell that the other man already knew the answer. He was surprised to see Emma looking flustered as she gave Mark a tight smile before walking out and shutting the door behind her.
“Was it something I said?” Mark laughed. Before Brant could answer, he added, “I guess that would be why she wasn’t interested in going out with me. I have to admit, I was puzzled.”
Brant was taken aback by his sudden desire to throttle his old friend. He had always gotten along well with him, although they had few things other than business in common. The only thing that surpassed Mark’s love of women was their love of him. Brant suspected women were probably drawn to the whole emotionally unavailable thing. Mark was rich, a fitness buff, and Brant could grudgingly admit that women probably found his dark looks attractive. In their course of business, he had been out socially with Mark before and while he was completely focused on business when it was important, as soon as the deal was over, he was looking to blow off some steam and that usually came in the form of a woman. Mark worked hard and he played harder.
He’d known him for years and in that time, there had never been a serious relationship in his life that Brant was aware of. Hell, he knew he wasn’t much better, but he had never dealt in the sheer quantity of women that his friend seemed to. He decided to ignore the line of questioning concerning Emma and change the subject. “Did we have a meeting today?”
Mark quirked a brow, seeming to notice the subject change. “No, we didn’t. I stopped by to drop off some paperwork with Jason and thought I’d see if you were free for lunch. I see you’ve already eaten, though. I don’t guess you’re free for a drink tonight either.”
Brant knew the last question was a challenge and he didn’t give a damn. If this had been business, he would have worked something out, but he wasn’t going to change his plans with Emma tonight just to prove something to Mark. He shuffled some papers on his desk, saying, “I’m tied up, sorry.” Brant silently cursed his choice of words, knowing exactly what Mark was picturing him doing with Emma now.
Mark was at the door before he turned to ask, “How’s Ava been? I was disappointed she couldn’t make it to dinner last night.”
“She’s fine.” At that, Mark finally smiled and walked out. Brant heard him talking to Emma for a few minutes before the outer door clicked shut. The last thing his sister needed was to get mixed up with Mark DeSanto. She didn’t need any more trauma in her life, and that was all someone like Mark would offer her. The one man she needed was Mac. Brant just hoped she opened her eyes and realized it before it was too late.
Chapter Sixteen
Emma opened the door to her apartment and felt her jaw drop open at the sight of Brant standing on her doorstep looking like the man she had fallen for in Florida. Gone were his work clothes and in their place were the cargo shorts and T-shirt that showcased his broad chest and muscular arms. In a suit, Brant looked good; in casual clothes, he was beyond handsome . . . incredibly hot. They both stood there uncertainly for a moment before he walked toward her and pushed the door shut behind him. God, she wanted him to kiss her.
It must have been written all over her face because suddenly he was there. His lips were on hers and his arms were encircling her waist. Her heart raced, her toes curled and her body hummed. Well, hello Mr. Florida, welcome back! When she felt his fingers pinch her nipple through her bra, she started pulling him toward the bedroom. She was desperate to rip his clothes off and run her hands all over his firmly chiseled body. “Em,” he groaned as he pulled her body tightly against his. She felt the firm ridge of his arousal pressed against her. She dropped her hand, palming and lightly squeezing his length. “Fuck,” he growled, pushing back against her.
“I need you inside me . . . now,” she whispered.
He had just literally ripped the shirt from her body when he froze. “Fuck . . . Damn it! Em, stop! We can’t . . . remember. . . .” He was taking deep breaths and trying to get himself back under control. She had no idea why he paused or what he was talking about and she knew she would probably explode if they stopped. She unclipped her bra and let the straps slide from her arms. She lifted Brant’s shirt and slowly, deliberately, rubbed her erect nipples against his hairy chest. He shuddered against her as if in physical pain. “Em . . . baby, I’ve never . . . um . . . you know . . . had sex like this.”
His words penetrated her sexual fog and she pulled back to look at him. “What are you talking about? Sex like what?”
He rubbed her shoulder almost consolingly as he shifted around nervously. What the hell was wrong with him? “During . . . that time of the month.”
She looked at him blankly before it hit her. Oh shit! She had told him this morning that she had been near his house looking for supplies for her period. Crap! What a tangled web you weave when first you practice to deceive. No kidding! “Oh, that’s finished,” she said before reaching for him again.
“Whoa, what?” He was clearly confused.
She couldn’t meet his gaze as she continued adding to the lie that had gotten her in this mess in the first place. “It was a false alarm. I was all crampy this morning and I thought it was, you know . . . coming, but nothing ever happened, so I guess I was wrong.” He was still giving her a skeptical look, so she decided that a distraction would be the only thing to save her and she went for it in a big way. She lifted the short skirt she was wearing and gave him an eyeful of what she was wearing underneath . . . nothing. She saw his face go blank and no more words were exchanged between them. He pushed her backward until her bed was against her knees. He paused only to strip off the rest of his clothes before following her down. She started to pull her skirt off when his hands stopped her.
“Don’t. I want to lift this skirt and fuck you. Do you have a problem with that?” Before she could answer, he grabbed the foil pack he had thrown on the bed and tore it open, rolling the condom down his length.
“God, no,” she moaned. With no more preliminaries, he proceeded to lift her skirt, wrap her legs around his waist and push into her, hard and fast. Her breath left in a whoosh as her body stretched to accommodate him. Just when she had settled into the hard rhythm, he put an arm around her, turning them both so that suddenly she was on top. He was even deeper now, hitting against her cervix. She put her hands against his chest, trying to control his thrusts. When he reached a hand out and started rubbing his thumb in circles against her clit, she forgot all about control and rode him hard . . . over and over until she was screaming his name. Her body came apart in an explosion of spasms and with another few quick thrusts into her quivering body, Brant joined her in release.
She collapsed against his sweaty chest, gasping for breath, too spent to separate her body from his. She had no idea how long they lay there, both trying to catch their breath and calm their racing hearts. When Brant’s stomach growled against her ear, they both started laughing. He smacked her butt and asked, “Any chance you could feed me now like you promised?”
They took a quick shower together, soaking the bathroom floor as they teased each other. She was surprised by the end of their shower that one of them hadn’t slid down and broken a bone. She slipped a short sundress over her head and left off the bra and panties. She thought Brant might enjoy that surprise later. Soon they were both sitting on her couch with bowls of shrimp pasta balanced on their knees. “So how’s Alexia? Is she still staying with you?”
The fork that had been going toward Brant’s mouth paused in midair before continuing on. He slowly chewed, seeming to drag it out as long as possible before answering. “She’s fine and, yes, she is still there.”
“Hmm, I see. That all still seems a bit strange to me.” When it became obvious that Brant wasn’t going to add any additional explanation, she decided to change the subject. Truthfully, she couldn’t imagine that any man could make love to her with the intensity that he had exhibited and be having an intimate relationship with someone else at the same time. He definitely hadn’t just been going through the motions. He was just as focused and in the moment as he had been in Florida. Maybe he did have the desire and stamina to go home now and do the same thing with Alexia . . . but she just didn’t see it. Sure, she wasn’t comfortable with the other woman living with him and she felt like there was more to the story than he was saying, but the alarm bells in her head had dropped to a light ping now. He still wanted her and that went a long way toward quieting the inner stalker within her, at least for tonight.
Chapter Seventeen
Emma rubbed her temples, trying to soothe the headache pulsing there. To say it had been a hectic day would be a grave understatement. Both Jason and Gray had been called away on some emergency, which meant that many of their meetings and obligations for that day had been shifted to Brant, Declan and Nick. She had spent the morning running back and forth to Gray’s and Jason’s offices gathering files that Brant needed. They had worked steadily throughout the day with little time for any personal interaction. He had spent the night with her last night and left before dawn to go home for a change of clothes before work. She had given him a huge grin when he left her bed in the early-morning light, thinking of him making the walk of shame that was usually reserved for a woman leaving a man’s apartment in the same clothes she had arrived in.
She studied him as she dropped another file on his desk. His eyebrows were furrowed and his jaw was flexed in concentration. He jotted notes in the notebook in front of him as he asked what seemed like a hundred questions. He looked like a perfect picture of every uptight name she had ever called him. The problem now was that she knew there was more to him than that. He could completely immerse himself in work to the exclusion of all else, but he could also burn hotter than any man she had ever known. He looked up to give her an absent-minded smile, catching her in the middle of staring at him. He was so sexy to her in that moment that she wanted nothing more than to grab him by his paisley tie and drag him on the floor with her. Just one sharp pinch to the nipple like he had given her last night and she would orgasm right here on the beige carpet in front of his desk.
As he continued to study her expression, seeming to know what she was thinking, she was gratified to see his hand shake even though he never stumbled during his telephone conversation. She understood then how it was that he set her body on fire. Brant excelled at everything he touched . . . including her. Just as she was considering doing something drastic to rattle him such as taking off her panties and putting them on his desk, the door opened in the outer room and she turned to see Alexia Shaw standing there smiling shyly.
Emma smiled through clenched teeth even though she wanted to roll her eyes and do something completely juvenile like stick her tongue out at the other woman. Alexia was dressed in understated but obviously expensive clothing, and her hair was perfectly styled without a single hair out of place. In comparison, Emma felt like an underdressed slob in her simple black slacks and baby-doll top. Of all days, she had even worn flats, so Alexia seemed to tower over her.
Brant saw Alexia standing in the doorway and gave her a polite smile that didn’t contain any of the heat that it had just moments ago. Thank God, maybe she wouldn’t be forced to stab her with a pencil after all. Then Brant finished his call and motioned Alexia into one of the seats in front of his desk. Emma escaped to her office, leaving the door open behind her. She was surprised a few moments later when the door closed quietly. Maybe it was time to start sharpening those pencils after all.
Brant was surprised to see Alexia once again in his office. He had a feeling from the strained look on Emma’s face that she was less than thrilled with her reappearance. He had been pondering dragging Emma out of here at five o’clock and into the nearest hotel before Alexia’s impromptu visit. “What’s up, Alexia?”
Alexia smiled in return, seeming to be more comfortable around him again. He would guess that it would be hard to remain on formal ground when someone knew most of your secrets. “I was hoping I could take you to dinner. I wanted to thank you for the last few days. I wasn’t sure if you were . . . planning to come home tonight.”
He settled back in his chair, noticing that Alexia seemed calmer today, more relaxed. He hated that he felt guilty about not calling to let her know where he was last night, but truthfully he hadn’t wanted to imply an intimacy that wasn’t there. She needed to get back to her life with Carter. “That’s not necessary, Lex. I am happy to help. Are you feeling okay today? You look great.”
She s
miled, seeming happy over the compliment. “Thanks, Brant, not just for that, but for everything. I know that I had no right at all to come to you and expect you to solve my problems after what I put you through.”
When he started to protest, she held up her hand. “No, just let me finish, please.” She took a deep breath and continued. “I was horrible to you. It doesn’t matter that I was strung out on drugs. I still knew what I was doing, at least in the beginning. I lied to you, I took money from your wallet on more than one occasion and I . . . God, I cheated on you, too.”
Brant shut his eyes briefly, finding that he could still feel a twinge of pain over her confession even though he didn’t love her anymore. He had suspected at the end that she was cheating, but hearing her confirm it was still a sucker punch to the gut. No man liked knowing that someone he loved had slept with another man during their time together, regardless of the circumstances. He rubbed the back of his neck, working on the knot of tension that had formed there.
“Lex, that was a long time ago. We’ve both moved on. Does it bother me? Sure, of course it does. But it’s in the past. If you’re looking for absolution, then I forgive you.”
“I’m not looking for forgiveness, Brant. I guess I just needed to come clean with you. Even though you probably knew what was going on for the most part, I still just walked away from you in a restaurant parking lot.”
Brant was afraid that the tears in her eyes would soon turn into full-blown sobbing if he didn’t stop the conversation that had left them both so uncomfortable. This wasn’t the time or place for this discussion. He leaned forward, getting her attention, and said, “Lex, stop doing this to yourself. It’s over now. I don’t hate you. You have far too much on your plate right now to rehash the past. If you want to do something for me, then take care of yourself. If you love Carter, then don’t waste time second-guessing yourself. Build a life for you and for him.”
No Denying You Page 15