Because of You (Playing with Fire 2)

I notice a black and blue mark on his chin that’s roughly the same size and shape as the one I currently sport under my eye. I immediately reach out and touch him.

“Was this from tonight?” I ask, my fingers grazing back and forth over the bruise.

Brady sucks in a sharp breath when I touch him again, his eyes roaming over my face, down my neck, and glancing heatedly over the cleavage showing at the top of my tank. I feel my nipples tingle and tighten as I watch him looking at me. He swallows thickly a few times as his gaze slowly makes its way back up to my face. There’s nothing more sensual than watching a man struggle to keep himself in check when he’s looking at you, nothing more arousing than seeing his eyes darken with desire and his tongue slide out to lick his lips because you know he’s thinking about kissing you.

I can feel the heat from his body radiating off of him since we’re sitting so close. All I can think about is pushing him back on the bed, straddling his hips, and feeling him between my legs, rubbing against this ache that has blossomed into full blown need.

“It’s nothing, just a bruise. I’ve had worse.”

Dropping my hand from his face, I jump up from the bed and stalk to the middle of the room, needing to put some distance between us so I can gather my bearings and think straight.

He can’t stay here. I’ll never get any sleep or be able to concentrate on anything, but there’s no way in hell I can tell him that.

“Whatever you’re thinking in that pretty little head of yours, you can stop right now. I’m not leaving. Not until that asshole is behind bars,” Brady states, standing up from the bed and walking towards me.

“I hate this. I hate feeling helpless. I hate feeling like I have to rely on other people to protect me,” I tell him angrily, trying to focus on something other than how good he looks standing half naked in the middle of my bedroom in bare feet like he belongs here.

“You’re not helpless,” he argues softly.

“Yes I am! He HAD me. I couldn’t move my arms. I couldn’t get away. I couldn’t do anything but let him drag me away and do whatever he wanted to me.”

I let the anger flow through me, preferring it much more right now than the desire of moments ago or the fear from this evening.

“You were in shock and scared to death. You can’t blame yourself for not being able to take a man down that was three times your size. The important thing is that I got there in time.”

Laughter laced with an edge bubbles out of me, and I and roll my eyes.

“You’re not always going to be there. What the hell happens the next time?”

He clenches his hands at his sides, and his body tightens even more than it already is.

“There won’t be a next time. You can count on that.”

His voice is low and deep, and I can tell he means it. I believe that he means it, but he isn’t Superman. He can’t be everywhere at once, and he can’t stop every threat that comes my way.

“But what if you aren’t?”

I can see the battle he’s waging with himself, and I instinctively move closer to him, wanting to soothe the rage he obviously feels when the thinks about not being there to keep me safe.

“You can’t attach yourself to my hip, Brady. I’m a public figure and I have a demanding job that goes along with it. You can’t be on stage with me, in my dressing room with me, or next to me for every interview or fan meet-and-greet I do.

“Teach me,” I tell him, a sudden idea occurring to me.

He looks at me questioningly, pursing his lips as he rolls the idea around in his head. I can see him getting ready to tell me no, to reassure me that he won’t leave my side, but I need this. I need him to understand and to help me.

“I feel powerless enough on a daily basis with my life. Please show me what to do. Teach me how not to be so defenseless. I need to feel like I have control over something,” I plead with him.

Brady rubs his hand against the back of his neck and sighs and I know I have him.

“You weren’t helpless when he had his arms around you,” he finally says.

He drops his hand from his and neck reaches out to grab my shoulders, turning me around so that my back is to him.

He steps closer until I can feel his bare chest against my back, his mouth near my ear as he bends down to speak, his hands still holding onto my shoulders.

“He may have had your arms pinned,” he tells me, sliding his hands down my arms and then wrapping them around me, “but you still had a very powerful weapon at your disposal.”

My heart rate picks up, and my mouth suddenly feels dry as I try to remain focused on what he’s telling me and not how good it feels to have his strong arms holding me against his hard body.

“As soon as the adrenaline kicks in, it will seem like everything is happening in slow motion. If you remember to breathe, stay calm, and focus, it will feel like you have hours to make a decision about what to do instead of just seconds,” he says softly, his breath fanning the side of my face as his arms tighten around me just a fraction, holding me in place. “You can’t use your hands, and your legs can’t reach him, but what part of your body is closest to him right now?”

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I notice a black and blue mark on his chin that’s roughly the same size and shape as the one I currently sport under my eye. I immediately reach out and touch him.

“Was this from tonight?” I ask, my fingers grazing back and forth over the bruise.

Brady sucks in a sharp breath when I touch him again, his eyes roaming over my face, down my neck, and glancing heatedly over the cleavage showing at the top of my tank. I feel my nipples tingle and tighten as I watch him looking at me. He swallows thickly a few times as his gaze slowly makes its way back up to my face. There’s nothing more sensual than watching a man struggle to keep himself in check when he’s looking at you, nothing more arousing than seeing his eyes darken with desire and his tongue slide out to lick his lips because you know he’s thinking about kissing you.

I can feel the heat from his body radiating off of him since we’re sitting so close. All I can think about is pushing him back on the bed, straddling his hips, and feeling him between my legs, rubbing against this ache that has blossomed into full blown need.

“It’s nothing, just a bruise. I’ve had worse.”

Dropping my hand from his face, I jump up from the bed and stalk to the middle of the room, needing to put some distance between us so I can gather my bearings and think straight.

He can’t stay here. I’ll never get any sleep or be able to concentrate on anything, but there’s no way in hell I can tell him that.

“Whatever you’re thinking in that pretty little head of yours, you can stop right now. I’m not leaving. Not until that asshole is behind bars,” Brady states, standing up from the bed and walking towards me.

“I hate this. I hate feeling helpless. I hate feeling like I have to rely on other people to protect me,” I tell him angrily, trying to focus on something other than how good he looks standing half naked in the middle of my bedroom in bare feet like he belongs here.

“You’re not helpless,” he argues softly.

“Yes I am! He HAD me. I couldn’t move my arms. I couldn’t get away. I couldn’t do anything but let him drag me away and do whatever he wanted to me.”

I let the anger flow through me, preferring it much more right now than the desire of moments ago or the fear from this evening.

“You were in shock and scared to death. You can’t blame yourself for not being able to take a man down that was three times your size. The important thing is that I got there in time.”

Laughter laced with an edge bubbles out of me, and I and roll my eyes.

“You’re not always going to be there. What the hell happens the next time?”

He clenches his hands at his sides, and his body tightens even more than it already is.

“There won’t be a next time. You can count on that.”

His voice is low and deep, and I can tell he means it. I believe that he means it, but he isn’t Superman. He can’t be everywhere at once, and he can’t stop every threat that comes my way.

“But what if you aren’t?”

I can see the battle he’s waging with himself, and I instinctively move closer to him, wanting to soothe the rage he obviously feels when the thinks about not being there to keep me safe.

“You can’t attach yourself to my hip, Brady. I’m a public figure and I have a demanding job that goes along with it. You can’t be on stage with me, in my dressing room with me, or next to me for every interview or fan meet-and-greet I do.

“Teach me,” I tell him, a sudden idea occurring to me.

He looks at me questioningly, pursing his lips as he rolls the idea around in his head. I can see him getting ready to tell me no, to reassure me that he won’t leave my side, but I need this. I need him to understand and to help me.

“I feel powerless enough on a daily basis with my life. Please show me what to do. Teach me how not to be so defenseless. I need to feel like I have control over something,” I plead with him.

Brady rubs his hand against the back of his neck and sighs and I know I have him.

“You weren’t helpless when he had his arms around you,” he finally says.

He drops his hand from his and neck reaches out to grab my shoulders, turning me around so that my back is to him.

He steps closer until I can feel his bare chest against my back, his mouth near my ear as he bends down to speak, his hands still holding onto my shoulders.

“He may have had your arms pinned,” he tells me, sliding his hands down my arms and then wrapping them around me, “but you still had a very powerful weapon at your disposal.”

My heart rate picks up, and my mouth suddenly feels dry as I try to remain focused on what he’s telling me and not how good it feels to have his strong arms holding me against his hard body.

“As soon as the adrenaline kicks in, it will seem like everything is happening in slow motion. If you remember to breathe, stay calm, and focus, it will feel like you have hours to make a decision about what to do instead of just seconds,” he says softly, his breath fanning the side of my face as his arms tighten around me just a fraction, holding me in place. “You can’t use your hands, and your legs can’t reach him, but what part of your body is closest to him right now?”

I don’t want to say my ass, which is nestled against Brady’s erection, which I can easily feel through the thin material of my shorts, even though it’s all I can think about. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, forcing my heart to stop beating out of my chest and think about what I would do if this wasn’t a gorgeous man I’m slowly beginning to trust with his arms secured around me.

“My head,” I tell him quietly.

“Good,” he states encouragingly. “With one hard bash of your head against his face, you could break his nose or stun him long enough for his arms to loosen so you can get free. All you need is to connect once or twice to his face or collarbone, and he’ll be howling in pain.”

His arms drop from around me, and I want to whimper when I no longer feel their warmth cradling me close.

Brady moves from behind, slowly circling around me, making me nervous as he stares me up and down.

“When you fight back, use the strongest parts of your body: your head, your fists, your elbows,” he explains, touching his hand to each of those parts on me as he makes a full circle and is back behind me again brushing his body against mine in the process. “If all of those things are incapacitated, use your entire body.”

In a flash, his arms are caging me tightly against him, and one of his hands is around my throat. “Don’t think. Just act.”

I begin struggling as hard as I can, twisting and turning to get out of his grasp, but I’m nowhere near as strong as he is. I can’t get free no matter how hard I try, all of this exertion is just tiring me out and forcing my ass to rub against him and feel how much harder he’s gotten since this self-defense lesson began. My body freezes in its struggle as I feel how turned on he is.

“Roll your shoulders forward,” he says in a husky voice. “Don’t try to strain or push away from your attacker.”

I do as he instructs, hunching my shoulders.

“Now fall to the ground.”

I slide out of his arms and down the length of him until I’m free, turning my body and jumping up to face him.

“Holy shit, that worked,” I whisper, staring at him in awe.

“It works when your attacker is behind you. What about if he comes at you straight on?” Brady asks, bending his knees and putting his hands up in front of him, getting ready to charge.

I swallow nervously, my brain a jumble of emotions as I try to think about the things he’s just taught me and if I will ever be able to fully focus when he’s standing in front of me looking fierce, his eyes blazing a trail down my body.

I run out of time to get my thoughts in order as he rushes me, wrapping his arms around me and pushing me backwards. My feet stumble over one another, and I lose my balance, falling backwards and taking him with me. One of his arms shoots out behind me to stop me from hitting the carpet. his body slams on top of me instead.

A thrill shoots through my body, feeling him touching me everywhere from chest to toe, and it's like nothing I've ever felt before.

Brady pushes up on one arm to ease some of his weight off of me, his other arm still wrapped securely around my waist.

“If you fall, there’s no way he’ll be able to keep both of his arms around you. You’ll have at least one of yours free. Go for his vulnerable spots,” he encourages, his warm breath floating over my parted lips. “Eyes, neck, groin.”

As soon as he mentions that last spot, it’s all I can focus on. His groin is resting right on top of mine. Trying to surprise him, I bring my hand up quickly, my fist going for his throat. He catches it in his hand right before I make contact, pushing my arm up and over my head and securing it on the floor. Breathing heavy, my other hand flies up towards his eyes. He catches that hand just as easily, trapping it beside my head just like the other one.

“Good. Really good,” he praises softly, his eyes moving to my lips as I lick the dryness off of them.

His breath begins coming out just as roughly as mine as he keeps my arms suspended over my head, his body pushing me into the carpet. Without conscious thought, I spread my legs until they are on either side of his hips, bringing my knees up and cradling him against me.

A moan escapes my mouth when I feel his hardness between my legs, right where I’ve wanted him all night. Before I even have a chance to be embarrassed at my actions, Brady lets out a low, growling curse and ducks his head down to my mouth.

Chapter 12

The reasons why this is an incredibly bad idea fly out of my head as soon as my mouth touches hers. Just being in the same room with her is bad enough. Seeing her scared and frantic is a like a knife right through my heart. Watching her angry and determined as she paces in the middle of the bedroom in that tight tank top and shorts that are so small it should have been illegal is intoxicating—better than any buzz I’ve had in the last year. Holding her in my arms and having her body up against mine is hot and such a turn on I think I may explode from wanting her so much.

But this…being between her legs, feeling the heat of her arousal wrapping around my cock while I attack her mouth is mind blowing.

I can’t get enough of her. It’s impossible to get close enough, taste fast enough. As soon as my tongue touches hers, I know I’m gone. There will be no coming back from Layla Carlysle. She sucks my tongue into her mouth, wraps her legs around my waist, and in that one instant, it's like she was in my bloodstream and I can feel here everywhere. I want to sink inside of her and never come up for air.

Holding her arms in place above her head, I push my hips forward and slide myself against her, swallowing her moan as I strengthen the kiss, sweeping my tongue slow and deep through her mouth. She takes every part of the kiss and gives back equally, her tongue tangling with mine and moving in the same leisurely motion as my hips. Every time I slide against her, she whimpers into my mouth, and nothing else matters right now but having her continue to make those sounds. I want to hear her moan louder, come with my name on her lips.

I don’t want to stop kissing her, but I need more. I need to taste her skin. Pulling my mouth away from hers, I make a trail of kisses across her cheek, down the side of her neck, and pause at her collarbone where I run the tip of my tongue. I let go of her hands and push myself up on one elbow, staring into her hooded eyes as I slide an open palm down the underside of her arm and her side until my fingers meet the bare skin of her stomach. She keeps her arms above her head and tilts her head up, arching her back as I slowly push her tank top up, revealing the creamy smooth skin of her flat stomach until finally her bare breasts are on display. They are full and beautiful, and her hardened nipples are begging for my mouth. I bend over her, holding my mouth an inch away from one of the tight buds, letting my warm breath flow over it and watch as it hardens even more. Layla whimpers softly and her hands fly to the back of my head, clutching my hair between her fingers and urging my mouth to where she needs me. I lean forward the rest of the way, taking her nipple into my mouth and sucking it gently, my tongue circling as I pull her in deeper. I let my other hand gently knead and squeeze her other breast, my thumb rubbing back and forth over her nipple while I continue sucking her into my mouth and listen to her cries of pleasure. I thought just listening to her come would be enough for me, but it’s not. I need to feel her when she lets go. I need to touch her heat as she squeezes around me.

I move suddenly, pulling my lips away from her nipple and placing one hand around her neck, tugging her to my mouth and sliding my tongue past her lips once again. I kiss her until we’re both mindless with need. I tear my lips away and watch her eyes as I let my hand trail down her body and slide the tips of my fingers under the edge of her shorts. I don’t want to do something she doesn’t want. As much as I’m dying to touch her, she’s been through hell tonight and I don’t want her doing this out of some misplaced need to forget about what happened to her.

“Tell me what you want,” I whisper against her lips.

She pushes her hips up a fraction so that my fingers slide further into the soft cotton material.

“You,” she breathes against my mouth. “Touch me, Brady, please.”

I swoop down without hesitation and kiss her lips, my hand sliding the rest of the way inside of her shorts at the same time until I feel nothing but the smooth warmth of her. I immediately plunge two fingers into her wet heat, and now it’s my turn to whimper and moan into her mouth. She’s soft and tight wrapped around my fingers, and I can only imagine how it would feel to have my cock buried inside of her right now, squeezing me and making me lose my mind.