“I get my name with that one. I’ll make a note of it. I think I like it best. Keep your eyes open, Josie.”
“I can’t.”
He bites the top of my shoulder, redirecting my attention.
“Do it. Watch this. God, you’re so fucking gorgeous.”
I can’t help but stare as I grow wetter, and he pushes me not just over the line into oblivion but so far past it, I couldn’t tell you where it was.
The next thing I know, I’m on my back on the bed, and Brax has my hands pinned to the mattress above me as he pushes his cargo shorts down his hips, impatient to get inside me.
When he slides in, we both groan with pleasure.
“Fuck,” he whispers in my ear. He’s moving fast, as if he’s on a mission. As if he can’t help himself.
It doesn’t take long before he pushes in and grinds himself there, coming apart inside me.
When he’s done and out of breath, he grins down at me.
“I guess that was more fun than packing,” I say, making him laugh.
“Hell, yes.” He pulls away and rolls onto his back, setting my arms free. “I couldn’t help myself. You were just strutting around the place practically naked.”
“Uh, I was walking around, wearing a shirt, gathering things for my super-fast trip today.”
“Walking, strutting. Same thing. You’re hot as hell, and I can’t keep my hands off you. Also, that was a gorgeous show in that mirror. I’ll never look at it the same way again.”
“I won’t, either.” I grin at him and see that he’s relaxed and content. “What are you going to do while I’m gone?”
“We have a gig tonight,” he says and reaches over to trace my collarbone. “What time are you heading out?”
“Maddie’s getting off work in,”—I check my watch—“shit, she’ll be here in fifteen minutes. She wants to leave right away so we can get checked into the hotel and have dinner before the game. You made me late.”
“Not sorry,” he says as he links his hands behind his head and watches with a satisfied grin on his handsome face as I hurry to get dressed and throw some clothes and toiletries into a bag. “Jesus, you’re only going for one night, Josie.”
“So?”
“You’re packing for a week.”
“I don’t know what I’ll need,” I reply and shove my curling iron into the suitcase. Granted, I haven’t curled my hair in at least five years, but what if I want to tonight? “I need to be prepared.”
“Is this a fancy ball?”
“No, it’s a basketball game.”
“Then why do you need high heels? Hey, I haven’t seen those before.”
“They’re new.” I cradle them to me and kiss the toe of one red shoe. “I don’t like a lot of fancy things, but these shoes are to die for. I can wear them with jeans.”
I gently slide the heels into their dust covers and place them in the bag.
“Later, I want to fuck you when you’re wearing those shoes and nothing else.”
That makes my head come up. I narrow my eyes at him, and when I hear the front door open downstairs, I toss a towel over his dick area, and he shoots me a grin.
“Are you dressed up there?” Maddie calls up.
“She knows you too well,” Brax says, and I stick my tongue out at him. “Come here and say that, sweetheart.”
“We’re covered,” I call back with a laugh. “And I’m almost ready. Just throwing a few extra things in my bag. I’ll take a shower before the game.”
“Oh, good. You’re bringing your curling iron. Hey, Brax.”
“Hey. You know, I’ve never seen either of you with curly hair.”
“But we might want curls tonight,” Maddie says, echoing my thoughts. “And now we’re prepared.”
“Women are weird,” Brax says, shaking his head as Maddie hurries away to gather her things. “I hope you have a good time. Text me to let me know you arrived there okay.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Okay, Dad.”
“It’s my job to make sure you’re safe.”
Now I raise both eyebrows. “Why?”
“Because I love you.”
It’s said so simply, so matter-of-factly, that I almost stumble. I cross to him and take his face in my hands, staring into those gorgeous eyes of his.
“I love you, too.”
I brush my nose over his and then kiss him long and deep, but before he can wrap his arms around me and tumble me back onto the bed, I back out of his reach.
“No more sex,” I say, pointing at him. “I have to go.”
“We should probably do it again,” he says, “since we just said the L-word.”
“We don’t have to do it every time we use that word.”
“We probably should.”
“No.”
He grins. “You can’t resist me.”
“I am resisting you. But I’ll make it up to you when I get home.”
Brax sighs as if I’ve just shot down all of his hopes and dreams, then stands to get dressed.