Follow Me Darkly (Follow Me #1) - Helen Hardt Page 0,11
see me? Surprised? Angered? I can’t tell.
His full, firm lips twitch slightly, and I flash back to the memory of them sliding over mine, of his tongue diving into my mouth for a deep, raw kiss the likes of which I’ll never experience again.
“May I help you?” I ask.
“Sure. You can open the door.”
I quickly retrieve the key from my purse and unlock the office. “Addie’s not here.”
“Good,” he says.
Okay, then. I open the door, walk in, and set my purse on my desk. I take out my phone quickly and check the comments on today’s post. Everything’s in order so far. I’ll respond to a few later. After he’s gone.
My heart is racing. Really racing. When I turn around, away from the desk, Braden Black will be there, standing tall, his glorious body filling out his blue suit in all the right ways. My blood pulses through my veins, heating to boiling.
“Skye,” he says, his voice dark.
I turn. “Why are you here?”
“For this.”
He grabs me and kisses me. Hard. I gasp, and he thrusts his tongue into my mouth, exploring at first but then taking. Another raw kiss, and my pussy is already pooling with desire. My nipples tighten and harden, and I push my breasts into him, move my hips without thinking.
He groans into my mouth, the hum like a bass clef crescendo on a piano. Is this truly why he came here? To kiss me again?
He tastes of morning coffee and peppermint, different from the wine-laced kiss we shared last night. Fireworks explode inside me, and soon my thoughts turn to mush, obliterated by Braden’s lips.
Only feeling remains—pure, raw emotion that coils through me and leaves me like a coyote trying to keep from springing on its prey too soon.
Control. Maintain control.
Fuck control.
I grab his head and thread my fingers through his silken hair. I pull him toward me and explore him as he explores me, our tongues locked in a sword fight, our lips sliding against each other. Nothing matters. Nothing except this amazing kiss.
Until he breaks away, sweat dotting his brow.
His full lips are sexy and swollen, and they glisten from our kiss. His hair is mussed from my fingers, and yes…his cock is bulging against the blue wool of his trousers.
“Dinner tonight,” he says huskily. “I’ll pick you up here at seven. And this time, Skye, you’re coming to my bed. Get used to the idea. It’s going to happen.”
He turns and walks out the door, leaving my legs wobbling.
…
Sitting next to Braden in the back seat of his car, I clear my throat. “Where are we eating tonight?”
“My place.”
My body turns to melted butter. “Oh? You cook?”
“I have a personal chef. She’s taking care of everything.”
I nod. Of course he does.
Everything’s okay. I’ve been to his place. I’m safe there. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. Which doesn’t really matter anyway. I do want to go to bed with him. Hell, I wanted to last night. I never dreamed I’d get another chance with Braden Black. Seriously, he can have whoever he wants.
So why does he want me?
Is it the thrill of the chase? Does he only want me because I got away the first time?
Probably.
Does it matter?
You need to let your hair down, phantom Tessa whispers in my head.
I know one thing. I’ve been given another chance for the night of a lifetime, and this time I’m not going to blow it.
My skin tingles—with excitement or fear, I’m uncertain. Get ready to give in, Skye.
We arrive and take the elevator to his place. Sasha greets us at the door.
“Hey, sweet girl,” Braden says, petting her. “Annika will take you out, okay?”
“Is Annika the chef?” I ask.
“No. She’s my housekeeper. She’s probably upstairs.”
There’s an upstairs? Braden taps something into his phone. Within a few minutes, a gray-haired woman enters the room—where did she come from?—leashes Sasha, and walks her out, never saying a word.
A sweet yet pungent fragrance punctuates the air—tomato and basil. We must be having Italian. Great. I love Italian. Except at the moment I’m feeling like anything that goes into my mouth will come right back up.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Braden says.
I stop myself from laughing. Comfortable? Here? Does he know how impossible his request is? We hardly know each other. We’ve shared one meal and two kisses. That’s it. Besides, for a girl who grew up in a modest farmhouse and now lives in a tiny downtown Boston studio, this glitz will never be comfortable.