Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
CHLOE
Sitting in traffic, I hum along to the song on the radio. Something about hoes meeting down at a trailer park. I groan when, once again, I don’t make it through the light while it’s green before it turns back to red. The traffic right now is insane.
I eye my phone and contemplate calling Olivia to help pass the time.
Oddly enough, I haven’t talked to her since I went to stay at Brantley’s.
Hell, I haven’t even reached out to Brantley to make sure it’s okay that I’m staying at his place.
Olivia and Mason both assured me that it’s okay, so I’ll take their word for it.
Speaking of homes, I’ve been checking online during my lunch break and again at night when I crawl into bed.
There is literally nothing available unless I want to live in an even more unsafe neighborhood or get a roommate.
Could I live with a stranger again? I did that in college, and it was hell.
Helene really didn’t like me and accused me of always creating a mess.
Twenty minutes later, I pull into the driveway of Brantley’s place.
I get out of the car and head inside. As soon as the door shuts behind me, I set my purse on the entry table.
My hands go to my blouse, and I start undoing the buttons.
As I walk, I toss it toward the hamper I found in the laundry room.
The top misses the hamper, and for a moment I contemplate walking over and picking it up.
Fuck it. I’m the only one here. I’ll clean up later, before he comes home.
Next I drop my skirt, leaving it in the middle of the floor, and kick off my heels with it. I’m passing by the couch, heading toward the stairs, when I hear it. A door opening on the other side of the house.
Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Fuck. FUCK!
This is it. I’m going to die.
I’ve thought about this moment a lot over the years. Olivia told me that I was overreacting by coming up with random scenarios where I met my untimely demise by a serial killer, but here we are.
Take that, Olivia Williamson. I was right all along.
Did he follow me back here? Did he break in while I was gone and lie in wait?
How long has he been hunting me? Have I met him?
Is he the guy I bumped into at the coffee shop last month and spilled my coffee on?
Is he one of the guys I met on that godforsaken app?
Oh god, what if he swiped right and I swiped left?
Is this happening because I rejected him?
My heart races a million miles a minute while my mind goes wild. I know I should move, but I can’t.
Oh god, they are going to find me naked. Poor Olivia is going to have to claim my naked body.
That is if they ever find me.
Will he ditch my body on the side of the road? Will he drop me in a body of water to become fish food?
My heart beats in time with the footsteps as they come closer and closer. My breath catches.
This is it.
Instead of my killer, Brantley steps into view. He jerks to a stop, and his eyes widen.
“Well, this is one hell of a welcome home,” he murmurs.
Screeching, I turn toward the couch and grab a throw pillow. Turning back toward him, I chuck it at his face. Brantley laughs as he catches it, right before it hits him.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I screech.
“I live here,” he says as he moves closer.
“You weren’t supposed to be home until, well, I don’t know when!”
He raises a brow and tosses the pillow back onto the couch. “I finished my meetings early and caught an earlier flight home. Is that okay?”
“No, it’s not okay!” I cry out.
His eyes drop as he takes his time checking me out. I can feel myself turning red under his gaze, which only pisses me off more.
The fucking curse of being a redhead.
“Eyes up here, buddy.” I snap my fingers.
His eyes meet mine. “Do you really want to be having this conversation while standing naked in my living room? Do you want me to take mine off as well to even the playing field, or would you rather go put something on?”
I look down and see that my nipples are hard, and my skin is flushed.
Motherfucker.
I look back over at Brantley and see the outline of his cock in his slacks.
Well, at least I’m not the only one affected.
I tilt my head to the side as I study it. It’s quite impressive. I wonder how it would look in my hand.
“Would you like a better look?” he murmurs, breaking the moment.
Groaning, I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re an asshole.”
Before he can say anything, I turn away and march up the stairs. I’d never admit it, but I add a little extra sway to my hips as I go, knowing he’s watching.
“I’ll be down here when you’re ready to come back out,” he yells right before I slam the bedroom door.
Chest heaving, I go to my suitcase and start grabbing clothes.
Asshole. What a fucking asshole.
He knew I was staying here, and yet he never thought to tell me he was coming back early. Yes, it is his house, and he can come and go as he pleases, but it’s the principle of it all. You don’t scare a woman like that. When you have a houseguest, you keep them updated.
I thought I was about to die, for Christ’s sake!
The more I think about it, the angrier I get.
How fucking dare he?
All he had to do was send a text. He didn’t even have to call!
I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.
Still seething, I toss on the clothes and head for the door. I rip it open and march down the stairs. I don’t care if I have to pack up and go somewhere else by the time I’m done going off on him. This was completely unacceptable, and he needs to know it.
brANTLEY
I run my hand over my mouth as I watch her ass sway as she stomps upstairs. Out of all the ways I imagined coming home, this wasn’t it. I knew she was beautiful, but fuck me, is she stunning. The way her body turned slightly red with anger turned me on more than it should have.
When I hear the door slam shut, I chuckle softly.
My laughter dies, though, when I look around the house.
The place is a fucking mess. I’ll give her credit, she found a laundry basket somewhere and pulled it into the room, but that’s it.
All the clothes she’s stripped off are scattered around my front entry and living room.
My hands twitch with the urge to pick them up, but I stop myself. She’s already mad enough that I saw her naked, I can’t imagine how she would react if I touched her clothes without asking. Still, the urge is riding me hard.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, hoping it calms me down. She doesn’t know I have a mild case of OCD and need order.
Spinning on my heels, I head back into the kitchen, which is shockingly clean. If I didn’t know better, I would think that she hasn’t eaten since she’s been here. Standing at the island, I drum my fingers against the countertop.
I can’t pick up her things.
I can’t.
Chloe comes storming into the kitchen with a look of fury on her face. Her red hair is down but a mess, and her hazel eyes are blazing. She’s so fucking gorgeous it makes my chest ache for an entirely different reason.
“We need to talk,” she demands.
“What’s up?” I keep my tone light.
“How did you get in here?”
“Through the garage.”
“After I got here or before?”
“After.”
“Then you should have announced yourself when you entered. You saw my car in the driveway, it’s not like you didn’t know I was home.”
Hearing her call my place home has my dick twitching.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“I won’t knock before entering my own home.”
She tosses her hands up in the air. “You could have called to give me a heads-up. Sent a text. It’s not like you don’t have my number.”
“Could I have? Yes, but it honestly didn’t cross my mind. Should I have? Absolutely.”
I stop myself from telling her that I wanted to surprise her. That I wanted to see her genuine reaction to seeing me without a heads-up.
“Besides, it’s not like I expected to find you here naked,” I add.
“Well, I was.” She huffs as she crosses her arms over her chest.
“Yes, clearly you’ve made yourself comfortable here.”
Hurt flashes across her face.
Shit.
“Chloe, that’s not what I meant.”
She rolls her shoulders back. “It’s fine. Now that you’re back early, I’m going to pack up my things and find somewhere else to stay.”
She turns to go back toward the living room, and I step away from the island.
“Chloe.” I walk over and place my hand on her shoulder.
She tenses under my touch, but I don’t let that stop me. I move in front of her, and with one hand, I tip her chin up so she’s forced to look at me.
“Don’t do that,” I tell her softly.
“Don’t do what?”
“Run.”
Her breath catches. “I’m not running,” she lies.
“Then if you aren’t running, you’ll stay,” I challenge her.
She bites her bottom lip as she tries to come up with an excuse to leave.
“So what’s for dinner?” I ask as I take a step back.
“I don’t cook.”
I laugh at her admission. I’ve known for a while now that she doesn’t cook, thanks to Olivia. I just wanted to see if she would admit it.
I take a step back and pull my phone out of my pocket. Unlocking my screen, I hand it over.
“Here.”
“Why are you giving me your phone?” she asks hesitantly as she takes it.
“Because I have all the places that deliver nearby saved along with my order. Pick one and order dinner for us.”
“No, absolutely not. You order,” she tells me as she shoves my phone back into my hand.
I sigh. “You like pasta, right?”
“Love it,” she admits.
“All right, I’ll order for us then.”
“You don’t have to get me anything,” she says right when her stomach makes itself known.
“Fucking traitorous body,” she mutters quietly.
I wisely don’t say anything as I tap at my screen.
“There. Ordered. Give me a few and I’ll be right back,” I tell her.
She frowns. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to go jump in the shower. You’re always welcome to join me,” I tease.
Her eyes darken for a split second. “Don’t fall. I’d hate to have to call Mason and the guys and tell them that the shower took you out.”
I tip my head back and laugh as I walk away.
“Trust me, sweetheart, you would be their prime suspect.”
Chloe huffs but doesn’t tell me I’m wrong. I enter my bedroom that’s right off the living area. When I bought this place, I thought it was weird that the primary bedroom was on the main floor and not upstairs with the rest, but I’ve grown to like it.
I don’t shut my bedroom door behind me and head toward the bathroom. My dick is painfully hard. It always is when I argue with that woman. At first, I blew it off as some kink of mine, but I’ve found that it doesn’t feel like this with everyone.
Only one infuriating little ball of chaos.
I turn the shower on with a little more force than necessary. I’m pent up and need to get this out of my system before I do something crazy like pin Chloe against the counter and show her how good hate sex can feel.
The water is nice and steamy within minutes. I get in, enjoying the heat on my back. If I thought my cock was going to forget about the bombshell in the other room, I was mistaken.
Wrapping my hand around it firmly, I start to stroke, giving in to my desires. I let my eyes close as I think about the beautiful redhead in the other room ready to verbally spar with me. I both love and hate it.
I love it because anytime I am with her, it is exhilarating. She treats me like no other woman ever has. At first, I worried she was a gold digger trying to convince her best friend to go to mine for money.
Then I realized the truth, which is why I hate it too. She is so damaged from those who have come before that she uses her words as a weapon. Her only goal? To keep people as far away from knowing who she truly is so she doesn’t get hurt again.
Little does she know, I enjoy a challenge.
I imagine her pouty lips spitting venom at me as I stroke my cock faster. The way she would tease me about being so hard for her. The shit she would give me for wanting her.
It’s enough.
I release all over the shower wall. I barely am able to hold back from saying her name out loud. Fuck, she’s got me in a chokehold, and she doesn’t even know it.
I shake my head, letting the relaxation only a good nut can provide me.
Chloe is here in my home.
Now I just need to figure out how to keep her here.