Fast Burn (Body Armor #4)(57)

Wow. So she’d managed to distract him last night, only to have him jump right back to it first thing in the morning? She glanced at the clock. It was only seven fifteen.

Unlike many people, she woke sharp, so she sipped her coffee, then said, “I promised to take her shopping.”

A black scowl marred his handsome face. Mouth tight, he bit out, “No.”

“Now, Brand—”

“I told you not to interfere.”

Uh-oh. He sounded far angrier than she’d expected him to be. Trying to explain that she’d been acting in his best interest wouldn’t work. Currently, he didn’t look receptive to any explanations. It’s why she’d chosen to admit to the shopping trip she’d planned, but not the makeover.

She could find a way around shopping...

“I’m sorry.”

Standing away from the bed, his face set, Brand folded his arms. “Why do I have trouble believing that?”

Easy enough to answer. “Because I’m headstrong and usually determined to get my way.” Placing the coffee on the nightstand, she swung her bare legs over the side of the mattress. “Please believe me that I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

His hand slashed through the air. “It’s not about hurting me.”

Of course it was. Men like Brand didn’t want to discuss emotions or feelings, but she knew his mother’s betrayal had cut deep. How could it not? Gently, she promised, “I won’t take her shopping.”

Reluctantly, his gaze went over her body. “It’s fucking unfair of you, Sahara. How can I argue when you look like that?”

Relief took the knots out of her stomach. “I was hoping you couldn’t.” She brushed back her hair and tried a tentative smile. “We have forty-five minutes before I have to be at work.”

He groaned—then took the two big steps necessary to reach her. “I need ten.”

“That works for me.” She’d have to really rush it, but she’d manage.

“God, you make me nuts.”

Before she could reply to that, Sahara found herself thoroughly kissed, her body stroked all over, and then Brand bent her over the edge of the bed and took her hard and fast. Her fists grabbed the sheets, anchoring herself as pleasure pounded through her.

More than that single sip of coffee would have been nice.

But sex with a scruffy, hard-bodied hottie? That beat the hell out of coffee as a wake-me-up any day.

Precisely ten minutes later, her body still humming, Brand carried her into the bathroom and set her on her trembling legs.

Leaning against the door frame, he asked, “Anything I can do to help?”

“You’ve done enough,” she promised him.

He smiled. “I’ll warm your coffee.”

“Thank you.” She took a two-minute shower, brushed her teeth and was rushing through eye makeup when someone rang the doorbell.

She stalled.

At the same time that she realized it had to be Leese, Miles or Justice, it hit her that she and Brand had left their clothes thrown all over the entry.

Oh crap.

Dashing out of the bathroom, she shouted, “Wait...” then slipped to a halt on the polished floor when she saw all three of the men standing inside the door.

Looking around.

Brand followed their gazes, and an “oh” expression hit his face. He shrugged an apology to Sahara and, pretending it didn’t matter, said, “Come on in. Sahara is scrambling to get ready for work. We’re running a little late today.”

Brand had pulled on fresh jeans and a casual black button-up...that he hadn’t yet buttoned. He hadn’t yet shaved either, but his hair was damp, so she assumed he’d caught a shower as well.

When the silence penetrated, she tore her gaze away from Brand and found the other three staring at her. “What?”

Justice cleared his throat. “You look nice with your hair down.”

“That’s what I told her,” Brand said. Then bold as you please, he walked over and gave her a kiss. “I’ll put on more coffee. Why don’t you guys come into the kitchen so Sahara can finish up?”

“Wait,” Sahara said. “They’re here for a reason, right?”

“I don’t know.” Brand looked at them. “Something up?”

Leese shook off the stupor. “Yeah, actually. We have something to share.”

“Should have waited until she made it to the office, though,” Miles said. “I told them that, but did they listen?”

“Apparently not.” Sahara strode around the living room snatching up articles of clothing—including her bra and panties, which, thankfully, were with her dress over the back of a chair rather than on the floor. She planned to wear the same shoes, so she stepped into them. “Give me thirty seconds before anyone says anything. And, Justice, would you let Enoch know I’m going to be a few minutes late?”

“Sure thing.”

“You’re the best.” She hustled down the hall to the bedroom, dumping the clothes inside. Going into the bathroom and bending at the waist, she flipped her hair forward, secured it with a band, and then twisted it around to form a casual chignon. She slipped in earrings, gave her makeup one last look and joined the men.

Brand was looking at something on Leese’s laptop and she gasped. “You started without me!”