CHAPTERSIXTEEN
Anne
Whew! I made it through the first half-hour of living in Bran’s home. I didn’t spontaneously combust, in anger or lust. And while there had been a tense moment, it didn’t end in me calling him a shithead.
Progress, right?
I turned on the water in the tub and put in some of the bath salts. The fragrant smell filled the room making me feel decadent. As I waited for the tub to fill, I used my phone to research hot baths and pregnancy. As it turned out, there were warnings against spending too much time in a hot tub while pregnant. However, there were less concerns about bathtubs because bodies weren’t as submerged in baths as in hot tubs and the water cooled in baths.
I rolled my eyes at Bran’s concern and yet, I found it sweet how caring he was for the child that wasn’t even conceived yet. I could see he’d be an attentive loving father.
The question was, would he be able to let go enough so his child be his or herself? Would the child end up resentful like Harper was?
Then again, Bran had a point that Harper flitted through life without any real direction. Was that his fault because he was so controlling or was he so controlling because she needed some boundaries?
I undressed and stepped into the tub. A loud sigh escaped me as I settled into the warm water. This was living. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a lovely bath. I had to admit, there were going to be a few perks living with Bran.
Bran. I didn’t know what to make of him anymore. He was right that my opinion of him was formed by stories from Harper as well as the few run-ins I had with him when he was trying to bully Harper into accepting security and bodyguards.
Now seeing it from his point of view, I felt like Harper could do more to understand his side of things.
I dunked my head under the water wondering what the heck I was thinking of taking his side. He might care for her, but he could still be overbearing and annoying.
And sweet and sexy.
Ugh! No.
I couldn’t think of him like that. But good golly it was hard. Nearly every time I’d ever seen Bran, he wore a suit. It added to the image of him being a stiff. But today, he’d answered the door in jeans…and not just any jeans. Faded jeans. Faded jeans that were worn until they looked as soft as butter. Plus, he had on a pale blue t-shirt that made his eyes look more like crystals. The t-shirt outlined the muscles on his chest making it clear that he used his gym on a regular basis.
How could someone so irritating look so deliciously sexy?
I wondered what he looked like without his clothes. When we’d had sex on his couch in his office, I’d gotten glimpses of his chest and his impressive dick, but I hadn’t seen all of him.
No, Anne. Don’t think about the grumpy, sexy man naked.
I picked up the washcloth, marveling at the softness of it. What a difference money could make in the little things like washcloths.
I dunked it in the water and caressed it over my skin. Skin what was sensitive now that I’d been thinking of Bran naked. The cloth brushed over my nipples, making me gasp as a shock of sensation tore through me.
Damn that man for turning me on even just in my thoughts.
I did it again because clearly I was a glutton for punishment.
Then again, just because I said no sex in real life, didn’t mean I couldn’t have it in my fantasies.
I tried to think of another man just so I didn’t have to worry about blushing or feeling embarrassed around Bran for thinking about him. But every man, male model to movie star to athlete quickly morphed from dark hair to blonde. From brown eyes to pale blue. Dammit, Bran.
Giving up, I closed my eyes and remembered the surprising passion and heat of his kiss as my hands slid over my body. I pinched my nipples as the memory of his doing the same came to me.
For a man who was so tense and closed off, Bran was the opposite when he’d taken me on his couch.
Imagining it now, my body heated to inferno levels. My hips rocked as my fingers pinched my nipples and kneaded my breasts.
In my mind, Bran was sucking them. He was in all his naked glory in the large canopy bed in my room, hovering over me with his magnificent hard body. He drew his lips along the skin of my belly, making it quiver. He pushed my legs open and inhaled a breath, just like he had on his couch.
“I’m going to eat your pussy, Anne.”
“Yes.” I arched in the tub as my fingers teased just above my clit.