Authors: Julie Brannagh
“We fucked up. Later, guy.”
Emily heard the front door slam and Brandon’s voice again.
“You’re not driving anywhere. I’m calling you ladies some cabs. Grab a seat.” She heard the footfalls of overly large men moving into the living room. A few seconds later, someone tapped on his bedroom door.
“Who is it?”
“Sugar, I need my phone.”
She opened the door enough to admit him. He shut it behind himself. “Don’t you look cute in my clothes?”
“It was that or go naked.”
She saw his mouth curve into a smile. “You know which I’d prefer.”
He reached into his dresser to grab some underwear and clothing for himself, pulling them on as he spoke. She got a great look at his gorgeous butt as he pulled up his boxer briefs.
“Do you need my help at all?” she said. “What happened?”
“They got out of Damian’s before they got arrested.” He nodded toward the window. There were ten squad cars parked around Damian’s house, red and blue lights still swirling. The sound system was off, or significantly turned down. Things appeared quiet. “You’re sweet to offer, but things are under control. They shouldn’t be driving. I’ll make sure they’re on their way home safely, and we can spend some more time together afterward.” He reached out to stroke her cheek. “I’ll be changing the locks in the morning. Make yourself comfortable, and I’ll bring you something to eat or drink if you’d like.”
“Thank you, but I’m fine. Thanks for checking on me.”
“Anytime.” His lips twitched into a smile. He reached out to grab his wallet and smart phone off the bedside table, shoving both into his pocket. “Maybe you should rest up. I intend to make sure you’re exhausted later.”
“I’ll look forward to that,” she managed to say. That voice. It should be illegal.
She wrapped her arms around his waist. He kissed the side of her neck and the sensitive spot behind her earlobe, then let himself out of the room again.
She heard conversation from the living room, a few bursts of laughter, and Brandon giving the address and cross-street to his house. Emily pulled the blankets on his bed back, and wiggled between the sheets. A little nap wouldn’t hurt. The bed smelled like him, too.
She glimpsed a flotilla of cabs arriving in front of his house through Brandon’s bedroom window. Several of the neighbors came out of their houses and stood on the sidewalk, watching men they saw sixteen Sundays each year stuff themselves into the cabs. A few minutes later, the cops joined in on the impromptu block party.
E
MILY HEARD
B
RANDON’S
voice in her ear much too early the next morning. “Sugar. Wake up. It’s gorgeous outside. Let’s go to Icicle Creek today.”
She let out a groan. “No. I wanna sleep.” She pulled the pillow over her head. He took it away from her.
“If we go now, we’ll have the place to ourselves.”
“AaaaaAAAAGH.” This time, Emily pulled the blankets over her head. Her chances were better of escaping detection this way. Actually, it would be moments before Brandon tore off the blankets, too, but a girl could dream.
He let out a laugh. “We’re playing the pillow game today.”
“Why do you have to be so cheerful when you wake up?” she complained.
“Because you’re not.”
“Please tell me you have a hangover,” she moaned. His typically sunny outlook was adorable. Well, it was sweet after ten
AM.
The rest of the time, it was annoying.
“Hell, no. Don’t make me haul your pretty little ass out of bed.”
“Let’s snuggle for a while instead.”
He pushed her hair aside, and kissed the back of her neck. His lips lingered on one of the more sensitive spots of Emily’s body. “We can stay in bed all day if you’d like.”
“Mmm,” Emily purred. He pulled her closer. Finally they were alone, and they were about to get naked.
The bedroom door flew open, hitting the wall with a bang.
“Hey, McKenna. Top Pot says ‘hi.’” Greg shoved a paper tray with two cups of coffee and a box of doughnuts onto Brandon’s dresser. “Breakfast in bed, guy.” He nodded at Emily. “Hey, Em.”
“Hey,” she said weakly, and pulled the blankets up over her head again.
I
CICLE
C
REEK WAS
located ninety minutes east of Seattle, and just outside of Leavenworth, WA, a small town with Tyrolean flair. Brandon had promised Emily an “easy hike,” but his idea of an easy hike would probably incapacitate the average woman. They’d walked for a couple of hours already. Despite working out five days a week, Emily was getting tired. Her steps slowed. She pulled the water bottle off her belt, and took a swallow.
As they hiked, Brandon was still musing over the beatdown he was going to give Greg at his earliest convenience. He couldn’t actually hit him. Maybe he’d just get Greg in a headlock, or tell his girlfriend about last year’s road trip to Tampa Bay. Greg seemed unfamiliar with basic Man Code: Stay out of another guy’s room without knocking first.
Above all, his house wasn’t a frat.
If that wasn’t bad enough, Brandon was currently feeling the most intense sexual frustration he could remember since he was sixteen and got caught messing around with his junior prom date in the guys’ locker room. If he’d waited till later in the evening, things might have gone better for everyone concerned. Then again, he’d seen Missy at a few school reunions since. She didn’t seem mad about it.
The whole pretend engagement thing had him thinking; only an asshole would seduce a woman he didn’t really have a relationship with. When he and Emily first met, it was a business thing. Somewhere along the way, they’d abandoned “pretend” and went straight for “let’s give it a try.” Their relationship—and they sure as hell had one now—started slowly. The physical side took time, too. Emily’s ex had done such a number on her that at first she had jumped every time he touched her. In other words, he was all for casual sex, but this was something more. Plus, he really liked Emily. Nailing a woman for the sheer enjoyment of it was poor form. Well, unless she wanted him to. He was fairly positive she wanted him to, after last night’s fun in the shower.
If Greg hadn’t come busting into his bedroom right about the time Brandon felt Emily rubbing up against his junk this morning, it wouldn’t be an issue. They would have spent the day in bed, and his frustration would be gone.
He hadn’t spent time with anyone he was more interested in. If he was really honest with himself, he didn’t think he’d meet anyone he’d be more interested in again.
“Asshole,” he muttered to himself.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.” He spotted a clearing off the path. “Hey, let’s rest for a minute.” He pulled a blanket from his backpack, spread it out, and dropped onto it. He pulled his smart phone out of his shorts pocket, noted he had coverage, and dashed off a text to Greg: YOU’RE AT YOUR GIRLFRIEND’S TONIGHT.
“Please tell me you’re tired.”
“Hell, no. I could go another five miles. It’s a gorgeous day and we’re out here all alone . . .” His voice trailed off. It was one of those rarities in Washington—several days of over-seventy degree weather in May, and he could take advantage of the situation.
He turned to Emily, quirking a brow. “Ever been skinny dipping?” She looked alarmed, and he tried to smother his laughter.
She scooted away from him. “No. No, no, no. We have no towels,” she argued. “The water’s cold. I don’t think this is a good idea . . .”
He reached over and untied her hiking boots. She half-heartedly pushed his hands away, which made him laugh even more. Emily pretended to be upset, but he saw the flush slowly climbing her cheeks. She was more shy than fearful.
“Are you scared, little diva?”
“Of course not.”
He half-rolled toward her, stretching across the blanket and moving closer. Initially she scuttled away, but she stopped at the edge of the blanket. She wasn’t frightened of the water. From the way her arms wrapped around her midsection, trying to fold herself in half, she was a lot more afraid of being seen naked in the great outdoors than anything else.
A naked Emily was now number one on his “to-do” list, and he was going to talk her into it. All she needed was some gentle persuasion. Luckily, he excelled at talking shy women out of their clothing.
“Let’s go wading,” he coaxed.
“I don’t trust you.” She wrapped her arms around her knees.
“Oh, you shouldn’t,” he agreed, and reached out to pull off her boots and her socks. “You’re alone with me, and it’s the middle of the week. There’s nobody else for miles, and I have an agenda.”
She tried to brush his hands away, but he tickled the bottom of her foot. She mumbled, “I don’t know about this.”
He stripped off his own hiking boots, socks, t-shirt and shorts. They landed in a pile. The sun felt great on his skin, and he crawled over, sprawling out next to her.
Her voice trembled. “What are you doing?”
She was looking everywhere else but at him, and she blushed even harder, if it was possible. He’d never seen this side of Emily before. He couldn’t believe his bossy little diva was so shy about the whole thing.
“No one’s going to see us,” he reassured. He stroked her cheek with one fingertip. She opened her mouth, shut it, and opened it again.
“We don’t need to take our clothes off to go wading—”
“Oh, come on. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. “This is not a great idea.” Her voice was muffled as he tugged her t-shirt over her head, and unzipped her shorts. “We’re in public. You’re taking my clothes off. Maybe this is an experience I don’t need to have.”
“It’ll be fun. Getting naked is always fun.”
She let out a groan, which made him laugh again. He unhooked her bra, slid it off, and pulled her panties down her legs. She looked like she wanted to argue with him some more, but she shut her mouth just as quickly. She lay on her side facing him, crossed her arms over her abdomen and her legs at the ankle, and reluctantly met his eyes.
“It’s warmer out here than I thought.” She sounded surprised. Her face was still flushed, but the rest of her—God, the rest of her . . .
He looked at her, and then he stared. He hadn’t seen much last night, but right now he was seeing it all. His eyes traveled over her with glacial slowness, from toenails painted candy-apple red, up pale thighs she probably thought were too large, and over parts of her that never saw the sun. He reached out to brush her arms away.
“Let me see,” he breathed. She lowered her eyelids under his scrutiny, and he saw her eyes fix on the bulge in his shorts.
She was going to short out if this kept up. She colored. She stammered. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him.
He looped a lock of hair behind her ear.
“You look like one of those paintings I saw in Art History class,” he said. Emily was Christmas morning, and the presents were all for him. “You’re beautiful, sugar. You’re all lushness and curves. I can’t wait to touch you.” He watched her lips move into a smile, and reached out to tickle her.
B
RANDON LOOKED LIKE
a sun-kissed version of Michelangelo’s David, with better abs. Even though her fiancé still wore his boxer briefs, David suffered in comparison. Emily reached out to lay her palm on the mother of all six-packs. His skin was warm and his abdomen rock-hard; the hair curled around her fingers as she slowly drew them over the rippling muscles.
She was rapidly losing whatever resistance she’d mustered up.
“Come on, sugar.” He pulled off his boxer briefs, dropped them on the pile of clothing, and held out his hand. “Try it,” he coaxed. She struggled to her feet. He scooped her up in his arms and waded out into the water.
Emily crossed her legs and pulled herself up against him, hoping to stay dry. “Aren’t you cold?”
“Of course not,” he said, but his teeth were chattering. “It’ll be okay in a minute.”
He waded out until the water was above his waist and glanced down at Emily. She grabbed for herself. “You’re looking at my boobs. Quit it.”
“Make me.” He pulled Emily closer and kissed her.
One of her feet slipped and dangled in the freezing water, but she didn’t care. She forgot she was naked. She forgot she was in a public place. She forgot everything but his lips and his tongue and the way he tasted.
Then Brandon tossed Emily through the air and into the water.
She came up sputtering. It was freezing. She’d never experienced anything so cold. She got to her feet and yelled, “What the hell was
that
?”
Brandon waved a wet finger at her. She splashed him. Emily’s hair dripped liquid icicles down her back. The water was up to her ribcage as she moved slowly toward him.
“You’re gorgeous when you’re mad,” he said.
“You are
so
getting dunked, NFL Boy.” She hurled herself at him. He didn’t move.
“Now you’re talking trash. Bring it.” He shook the water out of his curls like an overgrown golden retriever. His teeth weren’t chattering anymore. He was too busy laughing at her. She didn’t miss the gentle amusement in his eyes.
She hooked her foot around his ankle, managing to pull his leg out from under him. They both fell into the water again.
He came up laughing. “That’ll teach me.” He pulled Emily closer. She felt something against her leg that wasn’t either one of them.
“Ewww. What was that? I don’t like it!” she shouted.
“It’s a fish saying hello, sugar.” He rubbed his ear. So, she was a little loud when startled. “Take it easy.”
Emily was getting used to the freezing cold. They were in one of the most beautiful places she’d ever seen. The mountains rose around them; the sky was a brilliant azure blue. The water flowed white over various boulders.
Suddenly aware of the water’s currents, Emily said, “We’re floating.”
“I’ve got you. Look over there.” He nodded toward the shore.
Two young deer stood in the clearing where they left their things. The doe regarded them with liquid brown eyes. The young buck bowed his fur-covered antlers toward them as if he were tipping his hat. He ambled to the blanket and nudged Brandon’s backpack with his nose. His lady friend followed him. They delicately picked their way to the water’s edge, and dipped their muzzles into the rushing water.