He stopped suddenly. “What?”
I looked longingly at the buffet table. “I didn’t get to try any of the yummy things over there. . . .”
He chuckled beside me, his posture immediately relaxing. “Give me one sec.” He kissed my cheek and then rushed over to the tuxedo-clad attendant restocking napkins at the buffet. Within minutes he was handed a large brown paper bag that I could only assume was filled with to-go treats. My hero.
My smile widened as he approached, the bag clutched in his hands. “Now we’re ready. No more stalling.” He grabbed my hand and all but hauled me out the door.
Once we reached my apartment, Braydon gathered the plates and silverware from the kitchen while I unpacked the sack of treats on my small dining table. We ate and laughed and caught up about the past several weeks, avoiding any heavy topics. It was crazy how easily we could fall back into our old routine. I knew there was a big conversation we still needed to have—about where we stood—but even I seemed reluctant to start it. This felt too good and I wasn’t ready to ruin it.
“Are you going to finish that slice of cheesecake?” He looked longingly at my plate.
“Every last bite,” I confirmed, grinning wickedly as I shoved a big piece of the cake into my mouth. “But . . .” I pulled the last container from the bag. “There’s another slice, and I’ll split it with you if you make coffee.”
“Deal.”
I loved that I could be myself with him. I’d forgotten how easy we were together. Like two old friends who taunted and teased each other endlessly, and of course had great sex, too. My stomach flipped at the thought. I wouldn’t be giving in to him tonight. Couldn’t.
After our meal, we washed the dishes and then settled in the living room. The conversation soon died down and a comfortable silence settled in around us. A steaming mug of coffee, a belly full of cheesecake, and Braydon back in my life. Things were good. Maybe we could do this—even if it was just as friends. Things felt too natural, too easy with him, and I didn’t want to lose that.
Braydon pushed my hair back behind my shoulder. “Come here. I don’t bite.”
I glared at him, but moved closer. I knew in fact he did bite.
Although I had removed my killer heels, I hadn’t yet changed out of my dress. And my body suddenly realized that only a thin scrap of fabric was separating Braydon’s skin from mine.
“I’m going to go change out of my dress,” I informed him, hopping up from the couch.
“Need a hand?” he asked, rising.
“No.” I pushed his shoulders so he returned to sitting. “Sit. Stay. Good puppy.” I patted his head.
He lifted a dark sexy brow at me.
“Boys are like puppies,” I explained. “You have to have lots of patience, plenty of discipline, house-train them . . .”
“Is that so?”
I nodded, feeling satisfied.
“Does that mean girls are like kittens? Give them lots of snuggles and give them cream to lick up so they don’t get ornery and claw you?”
I giggled. “Something like that. Be right back.”
Once inside my bedroom, I didn’t bother with closing the door. I heard the television flip on and figured Braydon was making himself comfortable.
I unzipped my dress and stepped out of it, crossing the room in bare feet to hang my dress in the closet. I was humming the tune from the commercial I could hear coming from the living room and spun around to a rich grumble. Braydon was watching me from the doorway. I sucked in a breath as our eyes locked.
He remained motionless in the door, his dark blue eyes possessive and hungry.
“What are you doing?” My voice came in a rush of breath.
“Take off your bra.”
What?
His gaze dropped to the swell of generous cle**age that spilled over my pink push-up bra.
My body obeyed his command, my traitorous hands finding the clasp behind my back and releasing it. I let the straps fall from my shoulders, but palmed the cups of the bra before I was left completely exposed.
Braydon crossed the room and lightly gripped my wrists. “Don’t hide from me. I don’t know where this is headed, but this thing between us is real. I know you feel it, too.”
My brain latched on to his statement that he didn’t know where this was headed—wouldn’t make me any promises, but he was right, I felt more for him than I had for anyone in a long, long time. And not to mention, my body was humming for his touch. It had been so long, and no one knew my body quite like Braydon. I craved him. Even though I knew he was bad for me. “We shouldn’t,” I murmured, finding my voice.
“Don’t you think I know that? I don’t mean to mess with you like this—I never meant for things to get so complicated. But I want you. I want your friendship, and f**k, I want this body too, if you’ll let me have you.”
I chewed on my lower lip, weighing his words.
Braydon gently tugged my wrists away and my bra fell to the floor.
He inhaled sharply and cursed under his breath. He cupped my naked br**sts, his thumbs lightly grazing my ni**les. Darts of pleasure shot through me, sending a rush of warmth to my core.
Braydon watched my reaction with interest, his dark eyes missing nothing—not the rosy blush that was crawling up my neck or the way my breathing came in soft pants. He lowered his head and with his eyes still locked on mine, he pressed a tender kiss to the top of one breast, then the other. I ached to feel his mouth against my sensitive ni**les and he didn’t deny me. His hot mouth closed over a nipple, his wet tongue loving it with soft strokes. A cry broke from my lips and my knees trembled. His hands pressed the weight of my br**sts together and his mouth moved from one to the other, licking, sucking, and biting gently all while I writhed against his talented mouth.
Braydon pulled away, rising to meet my lips. He pressed a tender kiss to my mouth, then rubbed his thumb along my lower lip. The dampness he’d left behind on my br**sts puckered my ni**les in the cool air. He looked me over, his blue eyes alive with arousal and his slacks heavily tented in the front.
Not expecting anyone to see my panties tonight, I had on a pair of comfy black boy shorts. But the way his hands found my ass cheeks, which peeked from the bottom, he didn’t seem to mind in the least. He knew how to turn me on until I was soaking wet and nearly ready to beg. His fingers toyed with the waistband of my panties, dipping barely inside with featherlight touches to tease and arouse. The skin on my hips and stomach broke out in chill bumps. I rubbed a hand over the front of his pants, feeling his fully erect manhood, and my sex muscles clenched.