Brady Remington Landed Me in Jail(16)

"Look at you." His shoulders shook from laughter. "You're so mad at me right now. Anyone else, Rayna, anyone else, and I wouldn't put up with it, but you—you're mad at me and I just think how hot you look."

I flushed and looked down at my lap. Warmth flared in me, but…anyone else…there'd been lots of other girls, and there'd still be lots of girls, but for now—no! I was not going to go there. I tightened my resolve. "You shouldn't say things like that to me. It's not right."

"Why?"

He knew. The bastard knew darn well what I meant.

"You know what I mean."

"No. I don't." He wrapped a hand around a corner of the bed sheet and tugged it backwards. It tightened around me and I was pulled against his chest. He wrapped both of his arms around my waist, held me captive and propped his chin on my shoulder. He pressed a kiss to my neck.

"Don't."

Brady grinned against my skin and then shifted so I ended in his lap. "Brady," I tried to chastise, but his fingers distracted me. They slid underneath the sheet and started to massage my stomach. When they slipped lower, I gasped.

Brady chuckled into my ear. "You only live once, Ray. Even Viola agrees with that."

"That doesn't mean…" I was having a hard time remembering my argument. His fingers now rested on the inside of my thigh. The lower they went, the foggier my thoughts became.

Brady kissed the corner of my jaw and caressed my back with his free hand. His hand was cool against my skin. And I was burning up. I was going to burst into flame, literally.

Then my phone rang. Again.

Brady cursed into my neck, but I collapsed in relief. His fingers left when he answered the phone. When I heard Clarissa's voice on the other end, I jolted upright and grabbed a pile of clothes left on the floor before I ran to the bathroom.

Déjà vu.

I hurled into the shower, blasted the water, and slid to the floor as I wrapped my arms around my knees. Yes, the world wasn't ending, but mine was. Everything was different. Me and Brady…we weren't me and Brady anymore. I couldn't deny that anymore. My arms trembled, but I pressed my forehead into my knees. As the water beat down on me, I gasped and took a deep breath. I needed to take a breath, just one. Maybe, just maybe, things wouldn't get so screwed up. Maybe I could go back in there and Brady would be dressed, ready to go party and I could stay home like normal.

When I tiptoed back into the bedroom I saw that Brady hadn't dressed. He sat on the end of the bed with the sheets pooled around his waist. His chest was in shadow while the moonlight beat down on his broad, muscular shoulders.

"I'm not going with you!" I blurted out before I found myself noting how sexy he looked with those broad…shoulders…

"What?" He stared at me, distracted.

"What?" Shoulders.

He shook his head and focused on me now.

"What—you…what?"

"What are you talking about?" Brady clipped out.

"That was Clarissa, right? She called about the party…and I'm telling you that I'm not going."

"Oh." Comprehension flashed across his eyes. "No. I wasn't going to ask about that."

"Oh."

"No, I mean—" Cursing, Brady stood up.

My eyes widened and I squeaked, but the sheets fell to reveal white and blue striped boxers.

"I meant that I'm not going to the party either. So…that's why I wasn't going to ask if you wanted to go."

"Oh…okay." I bit my lip and looked out the window. Brady watched me as I watched the window. Neither of us spoke until I swung my gaze back. His eyes had a gleam in them.

"What are you wearing?"

"What?"

He gestured to my clothes. "You look like a wet clown who's going out clubbing. You look ridiculous."

I didn't think about it, my fist jerked out and I watched in sick fascination as I punched him in the eye. I saw it all in slow motion. His eyes widened when he realized what I was doing and then I saw the jerk of his head as my fist made contact. When he fell back on the bed, it was over so fast that I stood there, shocked.

Not Brady. Brady raised his eyes and saw my shock. He reacted quickly, tucked his shoulder, and rolled off the bed. He picked me up and threw me on the bed and landed on top before I had time to scream. His hand slammed down over my mouth before it ripped from my throat.

"You punched me!" Brady accused me as his eyes danced.

I shoved him back—I tried to shove him back. He held firm and tucked my arms above my head. I was trapped as he stared down at me.

"What?" I huffed, out of breath.

"You punched me. Why'd you punch me?"

"Because."

Brady dissolved in laughter. He tucked his forehead into the crook of my shoulder and stayed there with my hands trapped in his above my head. I was hyper aware of every miniscule of his body that was on top of mine.

He settled so he was more comfortable. "Only you. Only you, Rayray."

"Uh…" My hands were still captive underneath his, but his thumbs softened and caressed my wrists. Then he lifted his head and stared down at me. He was searching for something inside of me, something that I couldn't tell him.