On Dublin Street The Bonus Material - Samantha Young Page 0,25

forlorn look. “Maybe next time.”

“Definitely next time,” Braden promised, slipping up behind me. He pressed a kiss to my bare shoulder. “Once I get you in that shower, you’ll forget all about the desk.”

Very much looking forward to that, I quickly dressed, took Braden’s outstretched hand, and followed him back out of the office.

We were heading through the crowds when the glow of white caught my attention. I turned my head, spotting the four Ghostbuster guys in the corner. My gaze moved over them, landing on the water gun that had been modified to hold goo, and I pulled on Braden’s hand. He stopped, looking over his shoulder at me in question.

I held up a finger. “One second.”

With that I pushed through the crowd and ripped the water gun out of Ghostbuster number one’s grip.

“Hey!” he yelled, his face scrunching up in petulance.

I held the water gun up as the four came toward me.

I let fire, swinging it back and forth until it was empty.

The Ghostbusters stared at me in shock through layers of glopping green slime.

Handing back the water gun to a dazed number one, I shrugged. “That’s for ruining sexy desk time.”

Making my way back toward Braden I looked up into his eyes. He stared back at me calmly and held out his hand. “Feel better?”

“I will do once we have sexy shower time.”

He nodded and pulled me into his side as we walked down the stairs toward the exit. “Sexy shower time coming up.”

“Happy Halloween!” Two drunk girls dressed as fairies yelled at us as we exited the club.

I touched my hair, grimacing at the clump of goo Braden had mushed into it. I looked up at him, eyeing the goo in his own hair. At least we were gooey together.

“Happy Halloween.” I kissed his cheek and wrapped my arm around his waist letting him lead me home.

8

An On Dublin Street Christmas

The smell of coffee and cinnamon teased my curious eyes open and I pushed lazily up onto my elbow, grinning at Braden. He stood over our rumpled bed wearing a long-sleeved pajama top and matching pants.

Boo to winter for stealing my naked Braden time.

Strands of his gorgeous, dark hair flew out in different directions courtesy of my fingers and the rough treatment they’d given it when Braden had gifted me my first Christmas present of the morning. A stocking filler, he’d called it before he’d pushed my legs open and well… filled me.

Sigh.

I eyed the mugs of cinnamon-topped coffee in his hands. “Another present?” I asked as I took my mug from him. He placed his coffee on the bedside table before getting back into bed with me. I snuggled into his side as he reached back for the coffee and once he was settled I knocked my mug against his. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured and pressed a soft kiss to my lips.

Mmm, he tasted good. He tasted Christmassy.

Braden shot me a teasing look when he pulled back. “Definitely better than last year so far.”

Un-amused at the reminder, I flipped him the bird. He threw his head back in laughter.

Last year we’d spent Christmas day barely saying a word to each other, passing time in awkward conversation, swapping overly expensive Christmas gifts, and lending support to Ellie as she anticipated her upcoming surgery to remove tumors from her brain. The surgery part had obviously not been my fault. The weirdness with Braden had been. I’d broken up with him. I’d messed up hugely, terrified of being in love with him, and terrified of losing him.

I’d given him the run-around and it hadn’t been easy on him.

Every now and then he’d mention it and my guilt transformed me into a rampant sex goddess, bent on making it up to him.

Well, he’d already gotten sex this morning and I was getting wise to his manipulation.

“It’s Christmas. You can’t pull that card. You get presents instead.”

Braden pouted comically. “I just want sex.”

“Tough. You’ve had sex. Now you get a sweater.”

“A sweater?”

“It’s cold outside.”

“I own plenty of sweaters.” He eyed me in disappointment. “You seriously bought me a sweater for Christmas? And then told me before I opened it? Why bother wrapping it?”

“Maybe it’s a special Christmas sweater.”

“Does it have a reindeer on it smoking a hash pipe?”

I snorted. “No.”

“Then it’s not a special sweater.”

Laughing, I shook my head. “Maybe it’s pieced together with Velcro so that when I feel like having my wicked way with you I can just tear the damn thing off. That’s pretty special.”

Braden took