7. Braxton #2
Her hands found the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head. Her palms skimmed my chest, then followed the lines of my arms until her fingertips caught on the old burn scars.
"From the fire," she whispered.
"Yeah."
"They don't hurt anymore?"
"No."
She lifted my wrist and pressed her lips to one scar. Then the other. Something in my chest cracked open. I caught her cheeks between my palms and kissed her harder.
She melted into me without hesitation, her breasts pressed to my chest, fingers sliding into my hair as I worked open the snaps of her shirt one by one until I could push the fabric from her shoulders.
My hands followed over bare skin. The curve of her waist. The softness of her breasts under my palms.
Her breath broke against my mouth. "Braxton."
Damn, I wanted to hear my name like that again. I lowered my mouth to her throat, then her collarbone, taking my time while her hands moved over my back. When I kissed lower, she arched into me and tangled her fingers in my hair.
"You're beautiful."
"You're supposed to say that."
I lifted my head as I slid one hand down her side and over her hip. "I'm supposed to keep my hands off you."
"Clearly I've stopped worrying about what I'm supposed to do." Her smile disappeared when I kissed her again.
This time she reached for my belt. Her fingers made quick work of it, and the scrape of the leather through the buckle sent a fresh rush of heat through me.
"Damn, woman."
"What?"
"You're making it very hard to take this slow."
"Then don't."
That nearly finished what was left of my control. I backed her toward the bed. She sat on the edge and pulled me between her knees, kissing my stomach before looking up at me.
There wasn't anything polished about her now. Her hair was tangled, lips swollen, and shirt hanging open. And those green eyes told me exactly what she wanted… me.
I eased her back onto the mattress and followed. Clothes came off between kisses until there was nothing left to hide behind. Then I let myself look at her. All of her.
She shifted under my stare and brought her hands up to hide herself.
"Don't."
Her eyes narrowed. "You said that before."
"And I meant it."
I ran my hands slowly along her sides. "Don't hide from me."
Her expression softened. Then she pulled me down.
I kissed my way over her body, learning every place that made her gasp, every touch that made her move closer instead of away. Her hands tightened on my shoulders when I settled between her thighs, and the sound she made nearly destroyed me.
I lifted my head. "Tell me what you want."
"You."
"You’ve got me. Can you be a little more specific?"
Heat flashed through her eyes. “I want everything."
I moved back over her and braced myself above her. "You sure you won't regret this?"
Her hand curled around the back of my neck. "Never."
That ended whatever restraint I had left. I kissed her hard. She met me with the same hunger, wrapping herself around me and pulling me closer until every inch of us was pressed together.
I still watched her. Couldn't help it. Watched every change in her face. Every catch of her breath. Every little sign that told me she wanted more.
She opened her eyes and caught me doing it. "Stop thinking."
"That’s not really how I'm built."
Her mouth curved. "Then think about how much I want you."
I groaned and dropped my forehead to hers. "That's not helping."
"It wasn't supposed to." She kissed me again, slow and deep, then whispered against my mouth. "Stop asking and start doing."
So I did. I slid inside her, giving her time to adjust and take me inch by inch. Fuck, she was tight. And wet. And hot. And when she said my name again, there wasn't a damn thing controlled or careful about either of us.
We moved together, setting a rhythm that was painfully slow and too damn fast at the same time.
I wanted to last all night, to take her to the edge over and over again.
She came apart once, her fingers gripping my shoulders hard enough to bruise.
Then she flipped us over, hovering above me and taking control.
I held out as long as I could as she took me deeper and tightened her core around my cock.
With her head tossed back and her palms flat against my chest, she was irresistible.
As soon as she gave in, I chased after her and we fell together.
She was mine, I was hers, and in the moment, nothing else mattered.
Afterward, she curled against my side, her head on my chest, one leg thrown over mine. I traced patterns on her bare shoulder and tried to remember the last time I'd felt this settled.
"That was—" she started.
"Yeah."
She let out a soft laugh. "You don't even know what I was going to say."
"Doesn’t matter. Whatever it was, the answer is yeah."
I could have laid there looking at her all night long, this version of her that belonged just to me. But then her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
"Could be nothing," I said.
"Could be."
But we both knew it wasn't. She reached for it slowly and pulled up the message. Every muscle in her body tensed.
"What does it say?"
She turned the screen toward me.
Don't go looking for the other album. He won't be able to save you.
Only one person knew about the other album.
"Evie," Addison whispered.
"Yeah."
She sat up and clutched the sheet to her chest. "What do we do now?"
"Now we know who. We still need proof and the missing historical material."
"So I still go to the stock office."
"No."
"Braxton—"
"Together," I amended. "We go together. And we go prepared."
She looked at me for a long moment, then nodded. "Together."