He pushed me away gently, and I went to my suitcase. Unzipping the side pocket where I’d hidden the vibrator, I took the plastic bag with my new lingerie, and hid them behind my back. Sucking in a deep breath, I said, “I’ll be right back.”
Brax nodded. “I’ll be right here.
I retreated into the bathroom and flicked the lock. Placing the bag in the sink, I stared at my reflection. After a long flight, I was a mess, but I wanted to get it over with. I couldn’t stop feeling like it was a huge mistake.
You can do this. Just be honest. Everything else…we can work through it. It could turn out to be a good thing, the next step in our relationship. It might make us stronger.
I shed my clothes and stepped into the lacy purple G-string and matching push-up bra. The bra may have been über expensive, but it made my boobs look a million dollars, turning my C’s to generous D’s that spilled over the top.
I wanted to feel sexy and hot, but I really felt like a fraud. My snowy skin looked virginal against the smutty underwear—God, I look like a wannabe idiot dressed in her mum’s lingerie.
My fingers trembled as I unrolled the fishnets up my leg, and snapped the garter belt clips to keep them in place. Even more ridiculous.
I sighed, scowling at my reflection. I wanted sexy and crude and dirty—what I got was insecurity and regret.
Dammit, this wasn’t how I wanted to feel. New lingerie promised empowerment and sauciness. All I wanted to do was put my flannelette pyjamas on and forget the whole fiasco.
I met my eyes in the mirror. Just get it over with.
Ruffling my hair, I sucked in my belly and stepped out of the bathroom.
Brax was sprawled on the bed. He sat up on his elbows the moment I came into the room. His jaw dropped open, gaze raking over me. Desire exploded in his eyes, sparking something deep inside, overriding the fear of rejection.
Feminine power replaced self-consciousness.
Brax scooted higher, sitting on the edge of the bed. He shifted, readjusting his shorts. “Wow—”
Heat flashed with radioactive intensity, and I rushed ahead before he could say anything else, before my confidence could falter. I pulled the vibrator from behind my back. The little rabbit sticking out from the purple, glittery phallus made my cheeks flame. Oh, God, why was I doing this?
Brax swallowed, his eyes locking onto my most personal possession.
“I want us to be more adventurous,” I mumbled, hating my tongue twisting into knots. “I love you, and I love our sex life, but I just thought—well, I’d like to see—if, um….”
Brax slid off the bed, coming toward me slowly. He ripped his t-shirt off at the same time, leaving me to gape like a love-struck moron.
His face was unreadable as he murmured, “You want more?”
More. Such a dangerous word.
I shook my head. “Not more. Different.”
Pain flashed in his eyes before disappearing just as quickly.
“Not all the time. Only, sometimes…”
His hand shook as he reached for the vibrator. “You use this?” His finger hovered over the sliding power button. I couldn’t swallow—mortification closed my throat.
Sure, Tess, showing him your vibrator will be sexy and fun. I wanted to slap myself, but stood completely still, horrified by what he might say. I’d flayed myself open, bared my desires, only to risk ruining Brax’s feelings for me.
I wanted to yell—I’m joking! This isn’t the real me. But my lips glued shut; I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the vibrator in his grip.
Stupid. So stupid.
Brax slid the power switch upward and a battery powered whir filled the room. I looked away as he pressed the power higher. The phallus sprung to attention, screaming all my secrets.
“Different?” His voice echoed with loss and confusion as he stared at the vibrator. No doubt visualizing me writhing in abandon, using an object to get off instead of him. How could I explain not being intimate for weeks on end was torture?
My heart shattered. This was no longer about my needs. It was about his. I’d made him doubt, made him think he wasn’t good enough. Shit.
I grabbed the vibrator, hating it in that moment. I turned the power off, ripped out the batteries, and threw it all in the bin. “Forget it, Brax. It was a stupid idea. I just want you, okay? Please, don’t hate me.” I’m the biggest bitch in history.
He shook himself, hands falling to his sides. His gaze clouded as he stared at the floor. I knew that look. It was the same look when he awoke from a nightmare—terrified of waking up alone. “Tess, you have me. But if I’m not enough—”
“No!” I charged into his arms, tugging him to the bed. “You’re more than enough. I’m so sorry. Forget it. All of it. Please?” Now, I was the one petrified of being alone. If he didn’t think I wanted him, he’d push me away.
Panic made me fumble, and I lay down, pulling him on top. “You’re enough. More than enough. Brax, please—” Tears burned my eyes, chest straining with emotion.
His eyes dropped to my br**sts, biting his lip. Ever so slowly, he caressed the soft mound of flesh. “It’s killing me to think I’m not giving you what you need.” His finger dipped lower, finding my nipple inside the bra.
My breath hitched, even though so many emotions rioted within me, my body blazed for his. I needed to connect, to put this mess behind us.
“You’re stunning. I always knew you were out of my league, and seeing you in this underwear makes me realize how sexual you are.” His voice dropped with husky undertones as he continued to touch me. “I’m not sure I can keep up with you. I love you, Tess. I love being with you, but I don’t need to f**k you to be a man. I need you as a friend, as my support. Do you understand?”
His hand dropped from my breast, skirting my stomach, dragging me into a suffocating embrace. I let him squeeze the life out of me—I needed it. I needed him to convince me he wasn’t leaving, that I didn’t just ruin our relationship.
“All I need is you. Honestly, none of that matters. I’m content, so happy, when I’m with you,” I whispered.
My chest ached so badly. Could he hear the words we’d used? I was content and he used me as support. No mention of passion or unbridled lust.
It doesn’t matter. Stop being so foolish. That’s for movies, this is real life.
Brax pulled away, eyes turbulent with embarrassment and need. I reached up, pressing my lips against his. He kissed me back like I always wanted him to—with ferocity, violence bordering on pain.
I moaned, wrapping hands in his hair, tugging closer. That’s what I needed—passion laced with pain.
He broke the kiss, breathing hard. “So, all of this? Can we pretend it never happened?”
Relief ballooned in my chest. Gone was the disappointment I would never be possessed or owned by Brax in bed. I hadn’t ruined us. I couldn’t be more thankful. “Already forgotten.”
He exhaled in a huge gust, smiling crookedly. Kissing the tip of my nose, he said, “Thank you for loving me enough to take what I can give.”
My entire body vibrated with remorse. I couldn’t reply.
Brax reached behind and undid my bra. He drew it off my br**sts slowly, dipping his head to suck my nipple. Heat exploded in my core.
Brax still loved me. That’s all that mattered. Nothing else. Not kinky sex, or spicing up the bedroom. I was a very lucky girl. I am so lucky. Lucky.
I bit Brax’s collarbone and he groaned. He shifted so his rapidly hardening erection pressed into my belly.
Trembling, I eased his jeans down his hips. He arched upright, helping me get them off. Once he sprung free, he ripped off the fifty dollar knickers I’d worn for all of ten seconds, and threw them to the floor.
Brax settled between my thighs, gaze locking with mine. I bit my lip as he pressed inside. I wasn’t as wet as I should’ve been and the invasion was pleasure as well as pain.
His eyes snapped closed as he settled deep inside. His erection, stretching and filling, sent waves of safety rather than mind-shattering passion.
We rocked together, and he peppered me in delicate kisses, sweet affection. I grew slick around him, warming, building.
My n**ples ached for attention, and I wished he’d bite me just a little, maybe then I might be able to cli**x.
“Tess,—” he breathed in my ear, picking up speed. His h*ps pressed harder and I fought the urge to touch myself, to help reach an orgasm.
With another thrust, Brax moaned, his back shuddering as his butt clenched hard. He came inside, wave after wave of ecstasy for him and simple acceptance for me. I stroked his chest, so happy he was able to find release after everything I put him through.
He collapsed on top, sandwiching me between his bulk and the mattress.
I stared at the ceiling, battling so many thoughts, not all of them making sense. Brax huffed, snuggling his face into my br**sts.
Within moments, he was fast asleep, leaving me lonely and confused.
Chapter 3
*Robin*
“Sign here, please.”
The concierge handed us the compulsory waivers. I gulped, reading the fine print. If we injured, maimed, or killed ourselves while using the hotel provided scooters, the hotel would not be held accountable. If it was such a good idea to rent these things, why the huge disclaimer?
I glanced at Brax. “You sure you want to explore Cancun on a two wheeled death machine?”
Brax bit the top of the pen, frowning at the hire contract. He flashed me a grin. No residue of fear or sadness from yesterday lingered in his face. Thank God.
“You promised this morning. You agreed today was all about what I wanted to do, and tomorrow is all about you.”
I smiled. “Fine. But, tomorrow, you are so going to put up with getting a massage with me. No moaning.”
He drew a cross over his heart and signed the paperwork with a flourish. He laughed, excitement glowing in his blue gaze. “Do you want your own bike, or dinky on the back of mine?”
No way in hell did I trust myself to weave in crazy, un-choreographed traffic in a foreign country. “I’ll go on the back of yours. You do know what you’re doing, right?”
Images came to mind of us being impaled on the bike rack on the front of a bus, or run over by a truck carrying piñatas. I shuddered.
Brax scoffed. “I’ve driven a Harley. How hard can a moped be?”
Pretty damn hard, especially with maniacs driving circles around us.
I scowled playfully. “You drove the Harley for all of ten minutes.”
Bill, a building colleague, encouraged Brax to join the local motorcycle group. Brax tried, and promptly said no, which I was super happy about, as driving without doors and a roof freaked me out.
Brax rolled his eyes, tapping the signature bit of my contract. Sticking my tongue out, I signed.
The concierge beamed and walked around the desk. We were in the lobby, and more guests had arrived, a wave of shuffling bags and smiles. The soft murmur of excitement weaved around us, layered with holiday vibes.
“Follow me, please.” The concierge, in his crisp white shirt and bright orange waistcoat, led the way.
Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. Hell, we might even get off the beaten tourist track and find something local and new.