Chapter 3
KATIE
Bray wasn’t doing anything. I probably stunned him better than any taser. Me, Katie Camden touching him and asking him to pretend something he’d never do otherwise.
Be my boyfriend. As if he’d go for someone like me.
Me, the ugly one. The one who a guy only wanted to fuck if he couldn’t see my face.
Glancing back, I saw the drunk guy wasn’t far behind.
For all he knew, I was asking Bray if he wanted a pitcher of beer for the table.
I wasn’t proving he was boyfriend in any way.
Women were affectionate with their boyfriends.
Flirty. Sexy. They touched and kissed. I had to make it believable because I wasn’t getting fucked over a men’s room toilet.
Taking a fortifying breath, I climbed onto Bray’s lap, pretty much straddling him, if awkwardly. It was harder to do than expected on a stool, but I had to make this happen. I probably looked like a baby giraffe trying to stand instead of something sexy.
Bray’s work-worn hands went to my hips instinctively and he arched a sandy brow. This close, I could see how blue his eyes were as they held mine.
“Hey, ba–by,” I murmured, taking on a sultry voice I’d seen on a soap opera I used to watch with Gran. I grabbed his cowboy hat, plucked it off his head and sat it on mine. It was big and sank low, but I tipped it back.
Then I kissed him.
Holy hell.
I’d dreamed of what it would feel like to have his mouth on mine since I was thirteen. Back then my imaginings had been a peck. Something innocent.
This was nothing like those thoughts.
Nothing. Not a second after my lips met his, he took over.
His big hands slid down to cup my butt and he tilted his head and took over. Warm, full lips. Strong hands. Hard body. This wasn’t a peck.
I gasped and his tongue slid into my mouth.
The rasp of his whiskers tickled my skin.
Between my thighs, I suddenly ached, as if being near him…
on him, woke something in me. This wasn’t the best time to have these feelings, but I’d never hopped in a man’s lap before.
Never imagined I’d do anything like this with Bray Wilder.
I pretty much wilted in his hold. Then, I couldn’t help but roll my hips because I ached between my thighs.
My nipples were hard. I wanted the entire bar to disappear and for it to only be me and Bray.
To have his hands slide beneath my t-shirt and over my skin, moving higher until he cupped my breasts.
Or the opposite direction and he cupped my pussy.
Or both.
My little hip roll had my pussy rubbing against the front of his jeans. It felt so good that I whimpered. Bray helped me do it again.
Someone nearby whistled and shouted something about getting a room. Reluctantly, we pulled apart. His eyes, heavy lidded, dropped to my lips.
“Who hurt you, kitten?” he asked, his voice gravelly and deeper than usual.
Kitten. Oh, I loved it.
He’d never called me that before. He’d never had his hands on my butt before either.
His blue eyes were even darker now. Stormier. He didn’t have a beard, but he was a few days past the need to shave. I’d felt that raspiness when we kissed.
“I’m not hurt, but–”
“Someone bothering you then?”
I nodded. “I’m used to drunk guys working here. Sometimes handsy ones, but he’s different. He gives me the creeps and told me–”
I couldn’t say it.
“A guy’s fucking with you?” he asked, his blue eyes narrowing. Gone was the easygoing guy I knew. In his place, the man was menacing. Intent on meting out justice.
I nodded, suddenly turned on by more than his hands and mouth.
“What’d he tell you?” Bray prodded, his voice dropping even deeper than I ever remembered.
I licked my lips and Bray watched the action. “What he was going to do to me. In the men’s bathroom. I told him you were my boyfriend.”
His jaw clenched and I felt his fingers grip my butt.
“Who?” The one word was dark and sounded even a little dangerous.
I swiveled a little to look over my shoulder. The motion rubbed my pussy against him again, making me whimper. My panties were ruined and my nipples practically throbbed with the need to be sucked and played with.
The jerky guy was less than ten feet away. Watching. I met his gaze, and pointed at him.
Bray stood, holding me as he did. Then he spun around, set me on his stool as if I weighed nothing. He met my eyes and stroked my hair. “Stay here.” Leaning in, he kissed my cheek. “I’ll be right back.”
Then he went over to the guy, people moving out of his way as if they knew better than to stop him.
Bray was confronting the jerk. God, I was so nervous. I’d pulled Bray into this. He was here to hang out with his friends and have a few beers, not get in a fight for me.
“Don’t worry about Bray,” one of Bray’s friends said reassuringly. “He can take care of himself. And you.”
I flicked my gaze to him. He was handsome, with wavy black hair and a quick smile, but wasn’t anything close to Bray.
“I’m Cody,” he said. “This is Ace.”
The other man, Ace, who wore a cowboy hat and a blue shirt, added, “Hey. You hang out with us while he takes care of things.”
They weren’t the least bit concerned about Bray going to take care of things.
I gave them an absent nod. They seemed nice, but I had to focus on Bray.
On his broad back in his snap shirt. His butt in those form-fitting jeans.
He had one hand resting on a high top table and was leaning down right in the guy’s face.
I only wanted the guy to leave me alone.
I didn’t mean for this pretend act to take this turn. Then he–
Oh my God!
He grabbed the creepy guy by his shirt and hoisted him into the air. “No one fucks with my girl,” he said, loud enough for me to hear across the room, then punched him.
I gasped. “Bray!”
I stood to go to him but Cody grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and stopped me. “Stay right here, sweetheart.”
Bray loosened his hold and the guy fell to the floor in an unconscious heap.
The fight drew everyone’s attention. Bray didn’t seem to notice, only turned and focused back on me. Oh my. The dark blue eyes. The square jaw. The intensity. He didn’t look angry. He looked… possessive. Like he protected what was his and I was his.
That couldn’t be true. This wasn’t real. He was pretending. Right?
Step by step he closed the distance. I swallowed hard, unable to look away.
This was not the teenage version of Bray I used to crush over.
He had probably packed on thirty more pounds of muscle and had enough life experience beneath his huge belt buckle for everyone in a one mile radius to know that he didn’t fuck around.
He barely slowed when he got to me, only grabbing his hat from my head and setting it back on his before he leaned down and tossed me over his shoulder.
“Bray!” I cried again as he carried me right out of the bar.