Chapter 21
MADDOX
Hiding a boner in the middle of a busy waiting room isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.
Braxton has me hard enough I fucking ache, and all from some harmless banter. I blow air out my nose and spread my legs as far as they’ll go in the chair I’m sitting on and lean forward, covering the mountain in my pants with my forearms.
Several sets of curious eyes fall on me before quickly flicking away, and I do my best to smile pleasantly at a few people. After a few minutes of awkward silence and forced smiles, my leg starts to tap, and I check my watch again.
Five minutes feels like fifty.
Pushing out of the seat, I walk around the front desk and down the hallway back to Braxton’s office. The door is still shut, so I lean against the wall to wait. A dim, quiet hallway is better than out there, being watched like an animal in a zoo.
I fiddle with the buttons on my shirt, undoing one just to do it back up again.
The tattoos that paint my chest flash each time I undo the button, and I stare down at the corner of the one I do my best to keep hidden.
From everyone, myself included. I cautiously circle the tip of it with my thumb and close my eyes tight at the pain that grows with each second I focus on the design.
On the memory forever etched on my skin.
The sound of the door clicking has me quickly doing up the button, tucking the design away again.
As I look up, my lungs pull in tight, painfully. I swallow, but my throat is dry.
“Is it too much? Not enough? Be honest.”
Braxton runs frantic hands down her body, and I follow their tracks eagerly. My fingers twitch, wanting to take over for hers and touch her all over. Beautiful feels like an insult. It’s not enough.
Barely tamed curls, shiny pink lips, fluttering black lashes. The deep green dress hugs her body like it was made for her, and for the first time in my life, I’m jealous of a piece of clothing. All the way down to the pair of dirty, well-worn sneakers, she’s a vision. And she’s mine.
For tonight, she’s mine.
It hurts to breathe, like my chest is too tight to expand for a full breath. I rub at my mouth, at the start of a playoff beard, and mutter a quiet “Fuck me.”
Her brows furrow, and she twists her mouth. “That bad? Crap. I didn’t bring a backup outfit.”
I push off the wall, take a step toward her, then abruptly stop. Huffing out a breath, I stare at her puffy lips as they untwist.
“No. You’re perfect,” I say roughly.
Colour fills her cheeks as her teeth sink into her bottom lip. My cock throbs, and I reach down to adjust it in my pants, not thinking twice about it. She watches me do it, eyes hot with desire, and fuck if that doesn’t make me even harder.
“We need to go,” I rasp.
She nods slowly, distractedly, until finally, her eyes travel up my body and find mine again. “We do.”
Fuck it all to hell, but I want her right here, right now. No amount of inner scolding or self-preservation can convince me otherwise. Time changed so much between us, but it didn’t touch how desperately I want her. If anything, it’s only made it worse, that much more intense.
I feel like I could drown in her presence. Like I can’t breathe unless she says I can.
I’ve been holding back for days, and this feeling right here, it’s shaking the ground beneath me, threatening to send my walls toppling over.
I’m aware of all of this, but I can’t find it in me to run. Not from her. Not again. Not right now.
“Come here, Curly,” I beg.
Her throat bobs with a swallow. “No. You come here.”
I was right earlier. It only took a few days, but my Braxton is back. The quick-tongued, fiery girl who never took my shit and could give it back just as good as I gave it.
Before she has a chance to prepare herself, I’m moving, leading her back into the office with my confident steps and kicking the door shut behind us. I don’t stop moving until her ass hits the desk, and she gasps, staring up at me with wild eyes.
In one quick movement, I grip the backs of her thighs and lift her onto the smooth wood, setting her down as gently as possible.
I place my hands on the desk and move in close, selfishly filling her space with my presence.
A small part of me expected her to fight me on it and maybe push me away, but instead, she shifts, and I glance down to find her legs spreading just enough that I can move my body between them.
Finding her eyes again, I lick my bottom lip and exhale a long breath.
“There will be reporters watching us tonight, making sure we’re really together. We should practice so everything looks believable,” I breathe, nudging her nose with mine.
It’s a copout. An excuse to kiss her. And it’s obvious.
We’ve already practiced. I’ve already felt her against me, tasted her mouth and ached for more. But I need more. I need it right now.
I press my mouth to her cheek and fight off a shudder. The feel of her against me has me losing my mind. Our closeness is almost too much but also not nearly enough. I kiss her cheek and then trail my lips across her skin to her jaw, kissing her there too.
She grabs at my sides and breathes out shakily, digging her fingers in. “Practice how? We already kissed. Twice.”
I shake my head and bury my face in her neck. She smells so fucking good. “Those were different circumstances. This is big time. Their attention will be solely on us. Those kisses won’t cut it this time.”
“Okay.” She shudders against me, and I move one hand from the desk to her back, bringing her to my body. “So, what will?”
I drag my nose up the column of her throat, breathing her in one last time. When our eyes meet again, they lock and hold as tension makes the air crackle around us.
“It has to be real. Passionate. Sexy. Reporters can smell a fake relationship from a mile away.” My lids fall to half-mast as I hover my mouth over hers and slip my hand from her back to her waist. “Tell me you want me to show you.”
I watch her lips as she says, “I want you to show me.” And then her mouth is mine.
A rough, strangled groan escapes me the moment our lips touch, and she leans up, offering herself to me. I tighten my grip on her waist and grab the back of her neck with my other hand, threading her hair through my fingers and using the silky strands to pull her head back, giving me easier access.
She pushes her chest out and tries to move closer, seeking my body, and I ache to give her what we both want, but her dress stops me.
The way it’s pulled tight at her thighs keeps me from pressing us together, and without thinking, I’m splaying my hands on her thighs and curling my fingers in the velvet.
A barely audible whimper hits my mouth as she pulls back just enough to look down between us, at my fingers that are pushing the bottom of her dress up her thighs, inch by fucking inch.
“It’s staying on, baby. It’s just in my way,” I murmur, breathless. This is the most intimate we’ve ever been, and my chest feels crowded, like my heart has grown five sizes.
Her nails dig into my side. “It’s okay. Keep going.”
We both watch as it climbs higher and higher, exposing more of her bare thighs and making it harder to keep from dropping to my knees and kissing the soft, creamy skin over and over until she pushes me away.
Once it’s no longer in my way, I leave it so that it still hides her panties and drift my hands back down her legs, stopping just above her knees. Then, I step closer, parting her legs further and finally pressing us together.
Her gaze flies up at the brief feel of my cock against her centre, and then she’s capturing my mouth again, this time slipping her tongue between my already parted lips.
A rumble grows in my chest when she covers one of my hands with hers and starts to move it to her inner thigh, holding it in place.
I squeeze it but keep it right where it is. Caution has me stumbling around in my mind, unsure of what to do next. Suddenly, my confidence is gone, and I’m breaking the kiss and rearing back, breathing heavily.
“I think that’s good,” I wheeze, staring behind her at a blank wall. “Good job.”
“I shouldn’t have done that,” she rambles, her voice quivering with hurt.
“No, I shouldn’t have. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. This wasn’t right.”
Angry with myself, I drop my forehead to her shoulder and tense my jaw. I want to keep her close but also run as far as possible. Expecting to feel guilt and regret for what just happened, I wait for it to hit me, but it doesn’t. I don’t know if that makes me feel relieved or even more confused.
Silence, and then she mumbles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I didn’t mean it like that . . . I just—”
“No, I got it. It won’t happen again,” she says, softly pushing at my chest to get me to back up. I do, and she slides off the desk, quickly adjusting her dress. “We’ve already missed our reservation. I hope you have a backup.”
The next few moments happen in slow motion. Braxton collects her purse, flattens her hair, and then brushes past me on her way out of the office, not even checking if I’m behind her.
It’s not until she’s saying goodbye to her co-workers that I make it back to her side, grabbing her hand and refusing to let her get away. She lets me lead her outside in silence, but I only make it to my truck before breaking.
“I have no idea what I’m doing here,” I admit.
Sighing, she turns to face me. “What do you mean?”
“This.” I wave between us. “You and me. God damn, Braxton. It’s been eight years, and I still can’t keep myself in check when I’m around you.
What happened back there was a prime example of that.
I mean, come on. Look at you. You look fucking amazing, and I just needed .
. . I needed to touch you, feel you. You drive me utterly insane.
And when I said the kiss wasn’t right, it wasn’t because it didn’t feel like it.
I said it because that’s not what we should be doing right now.
Kissing like that? That’s a disaster waiting to happen. ”
She leans her back to the passenger door and stares at the concrete. I want her eyes on me, and frustration bubbles when she refuses to look up. Still, I listen to her next words intently, trying to dissect each one as it comes.
“I feel like we just keep going in circles. Hot and cold. Yes and no. You haven’t forgiven me for everything in the past, and that’s something I just have to accept, but I can’t turn it off as easily as you can.
I thought I would be able to handle seeing you and being with you like this, but I feel like a teenager all over again.
I don’t want to be the girl who falls for the guy who won’t give her what she wants again.
And I’m wise enough now to know I’ve stumbled down that same path.
I have to turn around before I get lost, and that means we need boundaries. Clear-cut ones.”
I fist my hands in my pockets and frown.
“What are you talking about? I wanted to give you everything. You’re the one who didn’t want that.
You never gave me any clear idea that you wanted what I wanted until suddenly, everything was going to shit, and you were begging me not to tell the world about your father.
I thought I was pretty damn obvious with my feelings. ”
“If you wanted me as much as you think you did, then why didn’t you make a move? I loved you so much back then, and all I wanted was to be yours. Not just Maddox Hutton’s best friend. But after years of friendship, I assumed that maybe I was misreading you.”
“Misread me? Braxton, I have a tatt—”
She shakes her head and interrupts me. “Please, let me finish.”
I close my mouth and nod stiffly.
“When you got drafted to Florida, I panicked.
Then my father brought up the idea of you not signing with them, and I made a rash decision.
The wrong one. I thought that maybe if you just stayed a bit longer that you would finally tell me how you felt, and then after you got redrafted, we would be a couple, and I could just find a school wherever you wound up.
“When we were seventeen, I told you that I couldn’t chase you, but my idea of my future changed so quickly I couldn’t keep up.
And then suddenly, I was eighteen and rash and desperate.
Definitely a bit toxic. If I could go back, I would do everything differently.
I wouldn’t have sided with my dad, and I would have made the first move.
But that’s not what happened, and I need you to forgive me and move forward, or I don’t know if I can do this. ”
She lifts her head and finds my waiting eyes.
“I’ve lived with a mountain of guilt and pain for nearly a decade.
Please don’t make me carry it any longer.
I can’t take seeing that hate in your eyes every single day for the next few months.
If you can’t put it all behind us, then we need to make peace with going our own ways for real this time. ”