Chapter Twenty-Two
Taylor
Today was the best day I’ve had with my father in a long time.
Seth and I spent the afternoon with him, and he actually rested.
At least for part of it. He still managed to rope Seth into a game of chess, grumbling every time Seth took one of his pieces, but that’s Dad.
He told embarrassing stories from my childhood and proudly showed off his old Gibson guitar.
Seth picked it up and played like he was born with a guitar in his hands.
I swear, every time I think I know him, he surprises me with something new that pulls me in deeper.
After we dropped Barney back at the shelter, we went to a local pub for dinner and enjoyed good food and fun conversation.
Now we’re back at my place, sitting by a roaring fire.
Seth’s sweater is slung over the armchair, and he’s on the couch beside me, sleeves rolled to his forearms, legs crossed at the ankles, laptop balanced on his legs.
I’m trying to finish a design for a client on my drawing tablet, but I can’t stop looking at him—barefoot, focused, and a little rumpled.
I thought we’d gotten close on the island, but without the lie taking up space between us, we’ve brought closeness to a whole new level.
I like this new version of us that doesn’t include watching what I say or trying not to fall.
A chime on my tablet breaks through my thoughts as an email rolls in.
From: Seth Braden
Subject: Urgent work matter
Dear Ms. Nunnally,
I find myself in a bit of a predicament. The woman beside me is breathtakingly beautiful, and I fear she may compromise my productivity. I’m requesting immediate assistance.
Sincerely,
Mr. Braden
My heart skips, and I glance at him. His gaze flicks in my direction, playful and enticingly seductive. My fingers fly across the keyboard.
Dear Mr. Braden,
While I sympathize with your plight, and I’m all for helping my most special client through a hard time, you have a conference call with Jared and Wells in a few minutes. I wouldn’t want to be caught in a compromising position.
Warmest regards,
Ms. Nunnally
His email chimes, and he reads my response, smiles coyly, and starts typing again. Another email rolls in.
Dear Ms. Nunnally,
You underestimate my ability to multitask. I’m fully capable of running a meeting while you compromise me.
Sincerely,
Mr. Braden
Heat prickles across my skin as I type a reply.
Dear Mr. Braden,
I’d hate to be responsible for you saying something inappropriate on a business call. Imagine the headlines: Elusive Billionaire’s Indecent Productivity Habits Exposed.
Warmest regards,
Ms. Nunnally
When he reads the message, he laughs out loud and sets his laptop on the coffee table. As he crawls over me, I say, “Excuse me, Mr. Braden, but I don’t recall seeing this in my job description.” His knees sink into the cushion as he takes my tablet and puts it on the coffee table.
“It wasn’t.” He brushes his lips over mine and says, “It was in mine.” His eyes spark with wickedness.
“When I first reached out and asked if you’d take me on as a client, I promised to make sure you’d have everything you need to stay challenged, supported, and stimulated.
” He kisses my neck. “I take my commitments very seriously.”
I push my hands beneath the back of his shirt, reveling in the feel of his muscles, and say, “Should I be worried that you made that promise when you thought I was a guy?”
His eyes narrow, but his mouth curves up as he says, “I was trying to be clever.”
“So was I.”
I pull his mouth to mine, the scrape of his stubble and the feel of him as he lowers his body over mine have lust coiling hot and tight inside me.
He deepens the kiss, and I meet every slick of his tongue, every hungry sound, with one of my own.
His erection rubs between my legs, creating scintillating friction as he pushes a hand beneath my sweater, searing a path to my breast. I arch beneath him, and he kisses me rougher, more demanding, his tongue thrusting in time with his hips.
When he tears his mouth away, firelight flashes across his face. The passion in his eyes takes me higher as he pushes my sweater up and unhooks my bra. When his tongue slides over my nipple, lust overtakes sanity. I bury my hands in his hair, pleading, “Don’t stop—”
He teases and taunts, grazing his teeth over my sensitive flesh, until every inch of my body pulses with need. His mouth blazes a path down my stomach, and he unbuttons my jeans. I lift my hips, craving his mouth on me, and a sharp, villainous ring cuts through the heat.
We both freeze.
“Fuck,” he grits out against my stomach, and lifts his face with an apologetic expression as another ring sounds.
“If you don’t answer it, they’ll think you’re dead,” I say, letting him off the hook.
“I’ll make it up to you.” He kisses my stomach and buttons my jeans.
Another ring cuts through our disappointment.
He stands, adjusts himself, and grabs his phone from the coffee table. Putting it to his ear, he says, “Jared, Wells, how are you?” all confidence and self-control. He says something about profit margins and sits down as I grab my drawing tablet.
I settle back against the arm of the couch with my feet on the cushion beside him.
He tosses me a smile, and his hand circles my ankle, sliding up my leg as they discuss the grand opening of their restaurant.
I try to concentrate on the picture I started earlier, but my mind is a whirl of desire, and the way he’s caressing my leg isn’t helping.
“I reviewed the projections…”
He squeezes my leg, drawing my attention.
His voice is all business, perfectly composed, but his face tells a different story.
His jaw flexes, muscles ticking as his eyes find mine, the heat in them barely contained.
It’s the look of a man fighting two instincts at once.
Close the deal and conquer me. The faint curve of his mouth is part warning, part promise, and when his tongue drags across his lower lip, my pulse forgets its rhythm.
The little dare in his crooked smile emboldens me.
I slide my foot over his leg and drag my toes along his inner thigh, testing him.
He doesn’t flinch, his breathing barely changes, and when he speaks to his business partners, it’s with calm precision.
Only the subtle flare of his nostrils gives away his mounting heat.
He moves his hand up my leg, along my thigh, and squeezes, sending flames licking up my core.
Let’s see just how in control you really are, Mr. Braden.
I slide my foot higher, resting it on his rock-hard cock. His eyes narrow, the fire in them spurring me on. I stroke him with my foot, and his jaw clenches. He grabs my foot, adding pressure as it moves along his erection. I mouth, You want to play?
He presses my foot harder on his rigid cock and mouths, Fuck yeah.
My entire body pulses with desire. I’ve never done anything where people might hear me. Knowing we have to be quiet and he needs to remain in control so Jared and Wells don’t catch on heightens my arousal.
Gathering my courage, I make a split-second decision to pull out all the stops.
I climb off the couch, strip off my sweater and the T-shirt underneath, and toss them on the chair.
Seth’s eyes flame. He tracks my movements as I shimmy out of my jeans and tug off my socks, standing in front of him in my sexiest black lace thong and matching bra, which I chose this morning for him.
I put my hands on his knees, pushing them apart, and lower myself to my knees between them.
He watches as I unbutton his jeans and lifts his ass as I tug them down.
But I don’t stop there. I move back and pull them all the way off, leaving his boxer briefs on.
Then I unbutton his shirt and push it open, kissing his chest and running my fingers over his pecs, loving the way they rise with his deeper inhalations.
I tease his nipple with my tongue and teeth, the way he does to me, and he buries one hand in my hair, pressing my mouth tighter against his flesh.
I suck, and he clears his throat. The guttural sound is accompanied by a rocking of his hips.
I kiss my way down his stomach, tracing his abs with my tongue, watching his jaw tighten, his eyes narrowing, restraint riddling his entire body.
When I strip off his boxer briefs, he fists his cock, but I shake my head, pushing his hand away, and mouth, Mine. My eyes remain locked on his as I wrap my fingers around his hard length and swirl my tongue along the broad head.
“Yeah, Jared. The PR team has that covered,” he says, his voice taut.
I lower my mouth over his thick cock, taking him deep, holding his gaze as I stroke and suck.
His restraint vibrates around us like a living thing.
His shoulders are locked, jaw tight, every muscle wound like he’s holding the entire world together by sheer will.
His eyes implore me, begging for what he can’t take.
I work him faster, stroking tighter, sucking harder, and God help me, I love watching him come undone one breath at a time.
Seth
Ellie’s mouth is sin and salvation rolled into one, every suck and lick obliterating another inch of my sanity. I grip the phone tighter, forcing my voice to stay level as I rattle off information I couldn’t care less about right now, while my pulse tries to punch through my throat.
Jared interrupts, going on about another restaurant site he’s got his eyes set on. I’m barely able to track our conversation as Ellie’s hand tightens around my cock, and she slows her strokes, nearly sucking the come right out of me.
I grab ahold of her. The fire in her eyes sharpens, and she puts her hand over mine, pushing, giving me the green light to take control. Holy fuck. I guide her along my dick until it touches the back of her throat and try to stifle a groan as she relaxes those muscles, taking me impossibly deeper.
Jared says something, and Wells laughs, but I have no idea what was said.
My focus is fractured, hanging on by a thread, and this incredible woman is the reason.
On her knees, hair wild, eyes daring me to keep pretending I’m in charge, while every breath feels like it’s being dragged through fire.
There’s nothing civilized left in me. Just hunger, greed, and the sound of her name beating in my head.
“Guys,” I say, strained to near breaking. “Gotta put you on speaker.”
I hit the button, mute the line, and toss it on the chair, their voices turning to white noise against the thunder in my ears. “Your mouth fucking wrecks me.”
“Then use it,” she challenges.
I grab her hair with both hands, and she lets me fuck her mouth like I own it. “That’s it. Take my cock.” The raw pleasure staring back at me nearly does me in. But fuuck, it’s never enough with her. I tug her head back, and she releases my dick. “On the couch,” I demand. “Hands and knees.”
“Yes.” She scrambles into position, looking over her shoulder at me as I kneel behind her, aligning our bodies.
“So fucking sexy, desperate for my cock.” I grab her hips and drive into her. She cries out, and I silently give myself hell. “Too hard?”
“No,” she pants out. “Fuck me, Mr. Braden. Fuck me like I’m yours.”
“You are mine, Nunnally, and don’t you forget it.” Driven by possessiveness, desire, and the soul-deep ache of Ellie Nunnally drilling into my heart, I grab a fistful of her hair and pound into her. “So fucking wet,” I growl.
“For you,” she pants out.
“Fucking right.” I thrust faster. “So tight and perfect. You were made for me.”
“Yes—”
The sounds of our passion fill the room as I reach around her, playing her clit like a fucking guitar, until her pussy clamps down on my cock, and she practically screams my name as “Ellie—” charges from my lungs, and I come so hard, it feels like it was ripped from my bones.
We ride out our pleasure, moaning and cursing.
When her head drops between her shoulders, I come down over her back. Using one hand for balance, I wrap my other arm around her and kiss her spine. “Ellie,” I rasp, the firelight flickering across our bodies. “Jesus…”
As the room slowly comes back into focus, the only sounds our hampered breathing and the crackling fire, I hear a slow clap. It takes a moment for me to realize it’s coming from my phone, growing louder, faster, into fucking applause.
Ellie goes rigid, her head snapping to the side. “Seth?”
“Fuck.” I grab the phone as Jared and Wells start cheering and end the call with a violent swipe.
“Tell me that didn’t happen,” Ellie pleads, mortified.
I sit back, pulling her onto my lap. “Hey.” My voice is still rough, wrecked. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Okay?” An incredulous laugh falls from her lips. “Your business partners just got the after-hours version of us.”
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I thought I muted it.”
“You didn’t.”
“Obviously.” The situation is so fucked up, I try to make light of it. “At least they clapped.”
She groans and buries her face in my neck. “I think I just died.”
“Not on my watch.” I hook my finger under her chin, drawing her eyes back to mine. “That was incredible.”
“It was, but I never say things like that, and now Jared and Wel—oh God. I can never meet your family. We have to break up.”
“Sweetheart, stop. They don’t even know we’re together.”
She deadpans. “You practically shouted Ellie.”
“They don’t know who Ellie is. I’ll call you Taylor around them, and they’ll never know.”
“They’ll think you were with someone else?” She wrinkles her nose. “I kind of hate that idea.”
“Me too, but if it’ll make you feel better, I’m happy to do it. Or we can change our names, move to a foreign country, and go into witness protection. Do you think witness protection covers public indecency via speakerphone?”
She’s half laughing as she says, “Even if they don’t, I’m in. You handle the paperwork. I’ll pack snacks.”
“My perfect partner in crime.”
She touches her forehead to mine and whispers, “I’m so embarrassed.”
“If you knew how beautiful you were in those wild moments, you wouldn’t be embarrassed. You’d be proud.” I brush my lips over hers. “Think of it this way. Some people have couple goals. We’ll be their passion goals.”
She smiles. “You’re crazy.”
“Maybe.” I tuck her hair behind her ear and kiss her. “But if this is what crazy feels like, I never want to be sane again.”