On Dublin Street - By Samantha Young Page 0,48

of your business, that’s what it was.”

“Are you fucking him?”

“None of your business!”

He made a low, irate sound under his breath and tugged on my arms. “Considering I want to fuck you, it is my business. And considering you definitely want to be fucked by me, I think it’s in your best interest to answer me.”

“You are an arrogant, egotistical asshat, you know that!” I raged, determined this alpha male douchebag was not going to control me. “I wouldn’t have sex with you if you were the last man on earth!”

It wasn’t the most original comeback. I know that. And it was definitely the wrong thing to say.

With my hands still pinned Braden kissed me again, nipping angrily at my mouth, rubbing his hard cock against me in torment. My body keened and my lips fell open letting him in. I tried to put up a pretense of a struggle but my hormones were far more interested in getting laid than having control over the situation.

“Are you sleeping with him, Jocelyn?” he murmured sexily, his lips trailing lush kisses along my jaw.

“No,” I breathed.

“Do you want to sleep with him?”

“No.”

Vaguely I was aware of the grasp around my wrists disappearing and my hands – with a mind of their own – reached for purchase against Braden’s taut stomach.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he growled in my ear.

I shuddered hungrily. Yes!

Instead of telling the truth, I shook my head, trying to maintain some kind of control.

And then his hand was cupping me between the legs, two fingers rubbing hard against the seam of my jeans. Excitement flooded me in a torrent of shivers. “Oh God…” I moaned, trying to press closer.

His lips brushed mine and I reached for something deeper, something wetter, but Braden pulled back. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

Anger exploded over me and I snapped my eyes open to glare at him. “What the hell do you think?”

I tugged his head down, our lips crashing together as I pulled out of him what I wanted. His arms encircled my waist, pressing our bodies together as our mouths fed hungrily on each other. Impatience raged between us, and Braden’s strong hands slid their way down my back and under my butt, lifting me easily. My body understood what he wanted and my legs automatically wrapped around his waist as he turned around and took two steps to press me against the wall, his erection rubbing against the v of my jeans as his hips thrust into me. Satisfaction and need slammed through me and I gasped against his mouth, silently begging for more.

“Oh fuck, sorry!” Alistair’s startled voice penetrated the fog and I jerked back from Braden, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I tried to catch my breath.

I gazed at Alistair in horror as reality returned.

What. The. Hell.

Oh fuckity, fuckity, fuck fuck fuck! I sucked at self-control! “Shit,” I breathed out.

Alistair’s confused gaze flew between me and Braden before coming back to me. “Break’s over.”

I swallowed past the panicked and sexually aroused lump in my throat. “I’ll be right out.”

As soon as he was gone, I felt the room close in on me. I was still wrapped around Braden. I unwrapped my legs, and Braden lowered me to the ground. As soon as my feet were stable, I pressed a hand to his chest, pushing him back. “I need to get back to work.”

Gentle fingers grasped my chin and forced my gaze up to his. His expression was granite, determined, controlled… and completely at odds with his swollen mouth and mussed up hair. “We need to talk.”

About my complete lack of control and willpower? “I don’t have time right now.”

“Then I’ll come over tomorrow night.”

“Braden-”

His grip on my chin tightened, quieting me. “I’ll come over tomorrow night.”

This was not happening. How could I let this happen? “Braden, I don’t want anything to happen between us.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Tell that to your damp knickers, babe.”

I narrowed my eyes on him. “You are such a dick.”

He grinned widely and leaned down to brush a soft kiss across my lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I grabbed a hold of his sweater, stopping him from leaving. “Braden, I mean it!”

Chuckling, he patiently uncurled my fingers from his sweater and stepped back. “I have a proposition. I’ll come over tomorrow to discuss it.”

Argh! Was he deaf? “Braden-”

“Good night, Jocelyn.”

“Braden-”

“Oh.” He turned back to me at the door and his expression hardened. “I’ll be waiting until the end

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