The Wrong Right Man(11)
Panting for breath, I call out his name, and he stops to look at me. His eyes are so dark with desire that I know he’s feeling just as desperate as I am. I try to tug my hands free from his hold, but his grip just tightens.
“Dakota…”
“Braxton.” My chest rises and falls rapidly as he stands and walks across the room, carrying me with him.
The moment my back hits the bed, he comes down on top of me, kissing me deeply before pulling back to look at me. “Keep your hands above your head.”
My inner walls tighten at the command, and I lift my hands above me and watch him lean back then stand. I see him kick off his shoes then remove his belt and pants before leaning over me, kissing my stomach. He grasps my leggings at the waist to pull them down my thighs.
I’m not ready for his mouth as he spreads my legs and buries his face between my thighs. It kills me to keep my hands where they are, but I do, and he rewards me for my efforts by sliding two fingers inside me and using them against my G-spot. My thighs shake as he sucks on my clit, and then my mind blanks as I fall over the edge into blinding white light that licks across every inch of my skin. I come back to myself as he kisses my inner thigh then my stomach and breast.
When he reaches my mouth, he smooths my hair back away from my face, and I watch him smile. “You listened.”
“I did.” I wrap my legs around his waist then move my hands to his biceps as his hand glides up my side, making my skin tingle. “I’m a very good girl.”
“I think I should test that.” He kisses me before rolling us so that I’m straddling his hips, and feeling all that is him between my legs, I swallow hard. “Tell me you want this, Dakota.”
I look into his eyes and know without a shadow of a doubt I want this. I want him. “I want you.”
The moment those three words leave my mouth, he leans up to kiss me. Then for the rest of the night, we get lost in each other.
________________
The smell of coffee seeps into my unconscious mind, pulling me from sleep. I slowly blink my eyes open, seeing nothing but the edge of my pillow and the empty expanse of my bed. I shift from my stomach to my side and bite back a whimper. I feel like I’ve been branded from the inside out, and every muscle in my body feels deliciously used.
Braxton.
I lift my head slightly off my pillow and scan the open room of my studio, in search of the man responsible for making me feel the way I do right now. When I find him in my kitchen, I hold my breath as I study him, wanting a moment to take him in before he realizes I’m awake.
Even leaning casually, with his back to the counter, one hand with his long fingers curved around his bare hip and the other holding his cell to his ear, he looks like he owns the place. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but his lips are moving quickly as he speaks, and from his expression, it seems serious. Despite his intensity, Maggie was right; he’s perfect—maybe even perfect for me.
I can’t remember a time when I’ve felt so at ease around a man. Even when Troy and I first got together, I was on edge, waiting to do or say something that didn’t go along with his plan and would piss him off. There was always a silent demand for me to act a certain way, because of his job and his father’s position.
Last night with Braxton, I felt like I could be myself, like he wanted me to be exactly who I am. It was refreshing and freeing, and if I’m honest, he made me feel like I’m good enough.
“Gorgeous, are you going to stare at me or are you going to come give me a kiss and get a cup of coffee?”
I blink at those words and focus on him, watching his lips tip up into a roguish grin.
“Umm…” I bite my lower lip then let it go to mutter, “I could use some coffee.”
“Then come here.” He motions me forward with one finger, and I know that if he was any other man, I might not think that was hot. But coming from him, I feel my body respond.
I toss back the covers, and cool air hitting every inch of my skin makes me freeze in place. I quickly pull the blankets back over me and swear I hear him chuckle. I don’t even look at him as I search the bed and floor for something to cover myself with. Not seeing anything within reach, I decide the sheet will have to do. I tug it with a grunt from the end of the bed and wrap it around me before pushing the covers back once more.
I blow a piece of my hair out of my face when I stand then look at him, catching him smiling. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here.” He lifts his cup of coffee toward me and winks.
I give him a nervous smile then look down at my cell phone when it lights up with an incoming message. I pick it up, taking it with me to my bathroom, and quickly put on a robe and brush my teeth. When I’m done, I look at my phone and notice I’ve got a few messages and missed calls—something that isn’t normal.
The first text I open is from Maggie asking why I stood up Adam. The messages to follow are from Jamie asking if I’m okay. I shake my head in confusion and text both of them back, letting Maggie know I did meet up with Adam, and telling Jamie I’m at home and fine. Before I even have a chance to set my cell down, Maggie messages back in all caps.
Mags: HE WAS SITTING ON A STOOL AT MY BAR ALL NIGHT, SO YOU DIDN’T MEET WITH HIM.
I glance at the bathroom door as a heavy weight starts to fill the pit of my stomach. If Adam was at View all night, who the hell is the man in my kitchen right now?