“Step out of them,” he commanded.
I lifted one foot and then the other, leaving my panties haphazardly on the floor.
He slid one finger against my sex, and his mouth curved up in a grin. “You get really wet, don’t you?”
Heat flooded my cheeks and my eyes dropped to the floor. Oh, God.
He tipped my chin up to meet his eyes once again. “Fuck, I like that. A lot.”
I pulled in a shaky breath, relaxing into his touch.
His finger glided along my wet center and a whimper fell from my parted lips. It was laced with need, and Braydon recognized it immediately, his jaw tightening. His eyes danced as he looked into mine, and we tried to calm our ragged breathing.
“All this tension between us, my little firecracker, this electricity . . . don’t you want to see what it will be like when I’m buried balls-deep inside you?” he murmured, his finger lightly rubbing my clit as his eyes met mine. I whimpered and bit my lip. Braydon continued watching me as though cataloging my every reaction as his finger continued to carefully circle the bundle of nerve endings so desperate for attention.
God, if he keeps that up, I’m going to explode . . .
“Can I taste you?” he asked.
All the blood rushed from my brain to my clenching sex, and I nodded wordlessly.
Walking us backward, Braydon guided me into one of the large bathroom stalls and slid the clasp into place, locking the door behind us. My heart pounded in anticipation.
Our eyes connected as he lowered himself to his knees in front of me, pushing my dress up around my hips as he went. Raw desire was reflected back at me as those beautiful blue depths penetrated mine. He hungered to put his mouth on me, and that thought alone drove me absolutely wild.
Balancing on precariously high heels with a poufy satin dress lifted up around my waist, I braced one hand on the wall beside me for support.
“Put your hands here.” He took my wrists, placing my hands on his shoulders instead. Then he slowly leaned forward, planting sweet kisses along my inner thigh. I writhed, trying to push myself closer, and balled my fists into his shirt.
“Hang on, baby. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”
His words instantly soothed me. I knew he would.
What in the world was happening between me and Braydon? I had no clue. But hell if I wanted to stop it. His tantalizing mouth moved to my other thigh, giving it the same treatment, trailing tender, sucking kisses all over the smooth flesh.
I gripped his shirt, my fingers sliding from his shoulders to his collar, to his hair, using it to tug him closer.
“Okay, enough teasing,” he whispered. “You want to come?”
“Yes,” I groaned out.
His mouth closed over my sex, sucking my swollen flesh into his mouth. He certainly wasn’t shy. This wasn’t the timid, noncommittal technique I was used to from most guys—a few flicks of the tongue before retreating to check a box. Oral sex complete. No, Braydon invested himself fully, pinning me in place and worshipping my lady parts until I was moaning and tugging against his hair to get him to ease up.
Hushed voices and footsteps came within hearing range. Braydon didn’t stop his ministrations, despite me trying to wiggle away. His hands clamped down on my hips, holding me in place. The footsteps stopped just beside the door, and I peeked one eye open. I could see black Italian loafers and hot pink satin pumps under the doorway. Holy shit! It was Ben and Emmy.
Braydon and I froze, our gazes locking.
“Ben, I need you,” Emmy whined.
“I know, baby. I want to f**k you so bad.”
Emmy giggled. “Look. There are panties on the floor.”
“Looks like we weren’t the only ones with this idea,” Ben said. “Our romantic wedding makes panties drop,” he said as he chuckled softly.
After a moment’s hesitation, Emmy asked, “Ellie? Is that you?”
Shit!
There was no use denying it. She could see my shoes, and since she’d picked out these strappy sandals for me, I knew we’d been spotted.
“Yeah, um, Braydon’s just helping me, um, find my contact.”
She hesitated just a moment. “You don’t wear contacts.”
Damn. I was hoping she’d be tipsy enough to overlook that fact.
“Yes, but I’m thinking of starting and I wanted to be sure . . .”
Braydon’s hand squeezed mine and he shot me a sympathetic look. “We’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Got it. We’ll see you shortly,” Ben said. I watched as their feet disappeared around the corner, and I sagged in relief.
“Thank you,” I whispered to Braydon. My dumb ass had tried to convince Emmy I was getting contacts. Thanks to his quick thinking, or guy code or whatever, he’d gotten rid of them.
Without another word, Braydon’s mouth returned to my core and I cried out at the unexpected onslaught.
Once my body was pulsing after its second release, Braydon slowly pulled back and lowered my dress into place, smoothing out the wrinkles over my hips with his hands. Then he rose and stood in front of me. A slow, lazy smile tugged one corner of his mouth up. “Hi,” he whispered, his eyes dancing on mine like we were the only two in on a private joke.
I pressed my lips together to hide my smile. “We shouldn’t have done that.”
“You came, right?”
I nodded.
“Twice,” he confirmed.
“I wasn’t keeping track,” I lied. It was two mind-blowing orgasms, more powerful than I’d ever experienced before.
“I was.” His eyes locked on mine, possessive and dominant.
“That’s not happening again.”
“Yes it is.”
Fuck.
I worked my bottom lip between my teeth while Braydon watched me curiously.
2
I waited for regret over my little tryst with Braydon to rise to the surface, yet it was strangely absent in the morning. I couldn’t clear my thoughts of him. Maybe my pride was able to remain intact because we hadn’t had sex and he’d remained fully clothed. I wasn’t sure. I only knew I thought of last night with a warm and pleasant feeling.
After a quick shower, I combed my wet hair and opted for a low ponytail, jeans, and a cozy V-neck T-shirt. I had no one to impress. I was on my way to a casual coffee date with Ben and Emmy before they left for their month-long honeymoon. Of course, as Ben’s best friend, Braydon would be there, too, but I refused to let things get weird between us after last night. I had nothing to be ashamed of.
When I arrived at the coffee shop, I spotted Braydon straightaway. He was waiting at the back of the line, fiddling with his phone. Gone were the tuxedo and shiny leather shoes of last night. Today he was in worn jeans slung low on his hips, beat-up navy blue Converse sneakers, and a light gray T-shirt that hugged his long, lean frame. He looked every bit as edible as the night before. His hair, unstyled, was missing the shiny pomade and was pushed up in the front in a casual yet sexy way. I wished I was immune to him, but seeing him standing there, looking like sex on a stick, it was obvious I was anything but. Damn hormones. I had no choice but to join him at the end of the line.