Craving The Player (Amateurs In Love Book 1)(67)

I nod, regardless of the fact that he can’t see me. “Got it.”

The burn in my eyes doesn’t let up, even when the ridiculousness of the situation starts to settle in. I should be embarrassed to have called him, but I’m not. He won’t judge me for this, and the need to have him here, holding me against that strong chest of his is enough to ward off anymore of those thoughts.

Inhaling a shaky breath, I slide down the wall, sitting my ass on the cold floor. I put my phone down on the floor beside me and pull my knees into my chest, tucking my head between them and wrapping my arms around myself until I form a ball. Quiet, subtle sounds come from the phone as Braden drives. I’m not sure how long I stay there, crying silently into my legs, but by the time my cries have turned into small sniffles, I hear footsteps thumping down the hall.

I lift my head slowly, feeling the tense muscles pull, aching from being stuck in the same position for so long. A watery smile forms on my lips when I see Braden running towards me, hair disheveled, eyes wild as they roam my face and body, like he’s searching for even the slightest injury. I think he becomes even more worried when he sees that I’m not physically injured.

A squeak escapes my dry mouth when he bends down and swiftly lifts me off of the ground, holding me tightly against his chest like he’s trying to protect me by shoving me inside of him, someplace nobody can hurt me. My back touches the wall and I wrap my legs around his waist as he holds me, one arm looped beneath my butt and the other in my hair, his face in my neck.

I press my wet face to the soft cotton of his t-shirt and breathe him in, letting the scent of laundry detergent slither under my skin and calm me. We don’t speak for a long time, too busy soaking in each other’s comfort.

“What happened, sweetheart?” Braden’s finger’s tighten in my hair and his nails scratch at my scalp, the sensation making me whimper.

“It’s not as bad as it seems. I just . . .” My vocal chords are scratchy and hoarse as I trail off, unsure of how to describe what really upset me. He probably won’t understand why being given such an amazing position pulled this sort of reaction from me, and if the roles were reversed, I’m sure that I wouldn’t understand it either. But my pride is too big for me to appreciate it when I know that I haven’t earned it.

“I don’t like hand-outs,” I mutter. “And I especially don’t like them when what’s expected of me in return is something I’m not comfortable with.”

I whisper a curse under my breath when Braden turns to stone against me, the arm beneath me bulging and beginning to shake. If I didn’t know better, I would have mistaken his rage for the inability to hold up my weight much longer. Lifting my head, I look at him through damp lashes. The way that he glares at the wall behind me has a ball of emotion clogging my throat.

“What do you mean by that, Sierra?” His words ache in the worst way, settling deep in my gut. I swallow thickly while touching his scruffy jaw, overwhelmed with the need to relax him before he does something stupid. Suddenly his cold brown eyes move from the wall to me, pinning me with a look tainted with the desire to punish. “Did somebody say something to you? Fuck. Did somebody touch you? I’ll kill them.” He spits the words like he’s disgusted by them. I flinch, and his eyes soften slightly, his grip on my hair loosening.

“Nobody touched me,” I promise him, swiping my thumb along his bottom lip. “I was handed a promotion. One that I’m certain I got because of my boss's attraction to me. I don’t want him to expect me to want to owe him for it, but I think that he will.”

“He can’t have you. Tell me what you need me to do and I’ll do it. That pompous prick won’t know what hit him.”

“I don’t know what to do,” I whisper, sounding more upset than I want to.

“We’ll figure it out. I promise. That bastard won’t be getting anything from you.”

Braden pushes me further against the wall while moving impossibly closer to me, like he needs to reassure himself that I’m really here. The possessiveness that he’s showing sags in my stomach before settling between my legs. I tense around him, my thighs beginning to shake.

Embarrassment and shame are two feelings that I should be feeling while I attempt to dry hump Braden in a dark hallway at work, tear stains on my cheeks and snot stuck to my nose. But lust and an aching appreciation have taken over, blinding me.

Braden’s face falls in my neck again and he shutters a breath against my skin, thrusting up slowly between my legs. “We need to go home, baby.”

I nod quickly, anxiously, unable to pretend like that’s not exactly what I want. “Then take me home.”





Chapter Twenty-Seven





BRADEN





“Almost there,” Sierra sobs, clenching her thighs tighter around my head. The reflex encourages me to suck harder on her clit, knowing that’s all it takes to send her flying into oblivion. Her squeak of approval echoes in my ears and makes me grin against her wet flesh, pushing my fingers deeper and faster inside of her before curving them inward and pressing against the place that sends her to space.

“Braden!” Her back arches away from the shower wall, water cascading down the valley of her chest from the shower head above her. When her fingers release their grip on my hair, and she gifts me a lazy smile, I slowly lower her legs from my shoulders and stand up. Her pupils are blown as I push against her, moulding her body to mine.