Take (Need #2)(33)

“Yeah, I agree. Next.”

We move to the adjacent row, and I barely sit down before I’m back on my feet.

“Hell no, unless you want to sit on a rock.”

There are probably over thirty couches and by the time I’m halfway through, I’ve lost him. After standing, I look around and spot him a row away and up. As I get closer, I have to shove my nails into my palm.

His long body is stretched out, arms crossed over his chest, and eyes closed.

“Hey.” I bump his elbow with my knee. “What are you doing?”

One eye pops open. “Nap test.”

I quirk a brow. “Nap test?”

“Yeah, come on down.”

He grabs hold of my wrist and tugs, making me fall on top of him. I let out a surprised squeak as his other hand flips my legs onto him as well like they weigh nothing.

“What are you doing?”

“You’ve got to try it out. Let me know what you think.”

“Idiot, I think I’m not going to get a good idea about the couch if I’m on you.”

Get off.

Get the f*ck off.

Get off his motherf*cking perfect chest and the bulge growing in his pants.

My body is unwilling to listen to the signal my brain is sending. It’s getting as wet as a bitch in heat and ready to make a scene.

Especially after his stunt in the shower. He made so much noise all I could think about was him tugging on that beast of a cock he’s got with enough strength to jack off a rhino.

Bastard.

I manage to push against his chest and slap his stomach. “Sit right, jerk.”

The corner of his mouth draws into a half smile.

And I remember.

Back before he knew I liked him, before he kissed me.

The names. The teasing.

Once he’s upright I fall down on the cushion, using it to cover the emotions from his stupid face that are forcing themselves on me.

When I look up, Brayden’s eyes are heavy lidded. He’s rubbing his fingers across his lips, an action that brings back memories I’ve tried to forget. Those lips eating me out on my birthday . . . and that night in the restaurant bathroom . . . on his bed.

He steps away, moving to one of the stations set up with maps and pencils.

“This one,” he says as he writes down the information from the tag.

Once he’s done, he holds out his hand and pulls me up.

“Are you buying it?”

He nods and starts walking away, his hand seeming to reluctantly release mine.

We make our way through accent tables and chairs where he writes down another number from some plain square end tables in red. I don’t know what he’s doing, so I just walk with him, looking at everything and making a mental checklist of possibilities for my dorm room.

The kitchen setups have changed since the last time I was in, and I fall behind. By the time I catch up, he’s almost to the dining room displays. I stay behind him, trying to keep my distance, to keep the itch down, when he begins to meander through the tables, pushing on them as he passes.

My brow knits as I walk over to him.

“What are you doing?”

He blinks at me, then puts his hand on my hip, moving me until I’m in front of him. Before I can ask again, he lifts me onto the table and steps between my thighs.

“B-Brayden?”

His lips twitch into a smirk, and I swear my * starts gushing. The way we’re positioned is so sexual, the urge to link my legs around his waist and pull him closer is impossible to resist.

He looks around before leaning forward, resting a hand beside me, the other on my hip as he rocks into me. His breath is harsh and I grab onto his shirt, but I don’t know whether it’s to push him away or pull him closer.

“Have to make sure it’s a stable surface.”

“For what?” I stare into his eyes. They’re dark and alluring—hypnotic.

His lips ghost mine, threatening to touch. Threatening to melt me.

“To f*ck you on.”

The heat of his body, his scent, and his words are a perfect symphony of torture. My thighs squeeze his hips, drawing him closer. I need to feel the hard cock he’s keeping from me.

I want him to do what he says. It’s the perfect height, and I want him to f*ck me on it.

He clears his throat and steps back, licking his lips as my hands loosen their grip.

A small whimper leaves me, the tension in my muscles falling away, making me weak.

What the hell is going on?

I’m turned still on from his teasing me in the shower, that’s what. He’s using it to his advantage.

I hop down, refusing to look at him as he writes down the table’s, information.

“Don’t you have a table? Why are you buying all this stuff?”

He glances at me, then away. There’s something he’s hiding from me. I know his tells.

“For my new apartment,” he says, clearing his throat again.

“You’re not keeping the old one?” With Ryan gone, I just assumed Brayden would get a new roommate.

Walking back to the pathway, he turns back to me. “No. We sold everything.”

“Everything?”

He nods. “The furniture. It was too much to move.”

I catch up to him and grab onto his arm, stopping him. “Why didn’t you put it in storage, then? That’s cheaper than buying all new.” What is he hiding from me?