Follow Me Darkly (Follow Me #1) - Helen Hardt Page 0,9
a normal first kiss.
No. This is a kiss of untamed desire, a kiss of two people who want each other desperately.
A kiss that drugs me, takes away my will.
A tiny groan, more a vibration than a sound, echoes from his throat and into me, fueling my desire. My hands, seemingly of their own accord, drift up his arms to his neck and I entwine my fingers in his dark-brown hair. He wears it long for a businessman, and it feels like silk against my fingers.
He growls into my mouth and roughly tugs on my ponytail, his tongue still tangling with mine. We kiss and we kiss and we kiss, until—
“Bedroom,” he gasps, breaking the kiss. “God, I want to fuck you so bad. I need to get inside that tight little body of yours.”
Tight little body? That’s Addison, not me, but I don’t care at the moment. He wants me, and I want him. I’ve lost capacity for rational thought. I don’t care that I know next to nothing about him except what everyone else knows. At the moment, I don’t care if he’s a serial killer.
All I know is I want him. I yearn for him more than I’ve ever yearned for anything.
I’m out of control. Completely.
And that’s why I know I can’t do this, no matter how much my body is aching for his touch.
Not now. Not until I’m myself again.
Skye Manning doesn’t lose control. Not ever.
What will I say to him? What will he say to me? He’ll probably call me a cocktease, and he’ll be right.
I’m playing Push Me Pull You with myself, my body going one way, my mind going another.
He takes my hand and yanks me down a hallway toward a closed door at the end.
His bedroom.
Braden Black’s bedroom.
If I go in, it’ll be all over. I’ll go to bed with him. I’ll give up the discipline I so desperately covet in my life.
He touches the brushed brass doorknob, ready to turn it.
I bite my lip, nearly drawing blood. “No.”
His sapphire eyes are on fire, and they’re shooting flaming darts at me. “Excuse me?”
I clear my throat. “No. I can’t do this. We barely know each other.”
He stares at me, but his eyes seem different somehow, like he’s looking not at me but through me. Unease sweeps over my flesh. I’m still turned on, still hotter than ever, but now something icy exists between us, and though we’re only inches away from each other, the distance seems like miles.
I expect him to argue with me. To tell me I’ve already agreed. To pressure me to change my mind.
He says nothing. Instead, he takes my hand and leads me back to the living area. Sasha prances around us, and Braden leans down to give her a pet on the head.
“I’m sor—”
“Not a problem, Skye,” he says, tapping into his phone.
Not a problem? After he said he had to have me? Loved my sexy mouth? My tight body?
This was truly just a fuck to him?
Of course it was. Braden Black can have anyone he wants. He’ll have someone up here to replace me at a moment’s notice. He’s probably calling one of his standbys. Maybe a tall blond supermodel type with legs a mile long. She’ll take my place tonight because I gave up the chance for the night of a lifetime—all for control.
And control is something I can’t ever afford to give up.
I’m a fool.
I changed my mind.
The words hover on my lips. I open my mouth—
Braden clears his throat into the phone. “Christopher? Ms. Manning needs a ride home.”
Chapter Six
“I can’t believe you.” My best friend, Tessa Logan, echoes my own thoughts at breakfast the next morning. “You’ll never get this chance again. Plus, he might have been the one who could help you with your little problem.”
I roll my eyes. I don’t want to think about my “little problem” at the moment. I try to never think about it. It’s not a huge deal, anyway. Why should I miss what I’ve never had?
“I’m not that easy,” I say.
“So what? This is Braden Black, hottie extraordinaire. Not to mention billionaire. When Braden Black wants you, you do it.”
“I just felt so—”
“Out of your element?” she finishes for me, tilting her head so her brown-black hair grazes her shoulders.
Tessa knows me better than anyone and is the only person outside of family who understands why I have a need to be in charge all the time.
“Well…yeah.”
“Skye, let me tell you something. I get your history,