Braydon (36 page)

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Authors: Nicole Edwards

BOOK: Braydon
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When he had fully penetrated her with two fingers, he began fucking her incessantly while she continued to thrust back against his hands, moaning as she did.

“Do you like that, Jess? Do you like me fucking your ass with my fingers?”

“Yes,” she cried. “Yes. Oh, please don’t stop.”

He had no intention of stopping. At least not the fucking part, but he did intend to slide his dick inside the tight hole instead of his fingers.

With hurried movements, he managed to retrieve the condom and slide it over his straining cock before guiding himself directly into her ass. Even when he had stopped touching her, Jessie had continued to writhe against the bed, and that’s when he realized she’d slipped her hand beneath herself.

“Are you teasing your clit?” he asked, his voice rough with the need that was building.

“Yes,” she replied. “Fuck me, Braydon.”

“Fuck you how?” he asked. Although he was already sliding deeper into her ass, he still wanted to hear her say it. “Tell me, Jess. Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck my ass, Braydon. Just like . . . Oh, yeah. Just like that.”

Braydon was slowly sliding in and retreating. The tight ring of muscles was strangling his dick, making it damn near impossible to keep from coming too soon, but he focused his attention on bringing Jessie pleasure.

Braydon adjusted his stance, spreading his legs wider, forcing her legs apart and lifting her hips so that she was up on her knees, but her chest was pressed into the bed. Grabbing her hips, he increased his pace, the overwhelming rush of sensation assaulting him, ratcheting up another notch with every one of Jessie’s cries of pleasure. She was begging, pleading for him to go faster, harder. And he couldn’t hold back.

Getting a better grip on her hips, he adjusted the angle and began plowing into her, hard.

“Oh, yes! Braydon!”

“Play with your clit, Jess,” he demanded. “Tell me when you come.”

Braydon’s eyes crossed when Jessie’s fingers brushed against his balls. The little minx knew what she was doing too because she continued to tease him as he tried to maintain a steady, almost punishing pace. But then her hand was once again focused on herself and he was slamming into her ass, the heat of her body gripping him, pulling him closer and closer to the edge until he saw white lights dancing at the corners of his vision.

“Jessie. Oh, damn, baby. I’m gonna come. Do you want me to come in your ass?”

“Yes!” Jessie screamed, her arm moving faster. He couldn’t see her hand as she strummed her clit because it was beneath her body, but he could practically close his eyes and imagine what it looked like.

Between the blinding pleasure and the image now planted in his head, Braydon couldn’t hold back. “Fuck! I’m coming, Jess.” Braydon growled as his release tore through him.

Jessie’s body clamped around him, the pain lancing up his cock, turning to intense pleasure as his orgasm gripped him. And then she was crying out, her body tensing as her release tore through her.

Sweaty and sated, Braydon was tempted to fall on top of Jessie, to let sleep overtake him, because he wasn’t sure he was ready to get up and face the day. But he had to clean himself up, which meant he had to get out of the bed.

Jessie turned her head at that moment, glancing back at him over her shoulder, and she smiled. A grin so big, so wide, he felt it as it pierced his heart.

“Good morning,” she rasped. “I think you should wake me up like that more often.”

“That can be arranged,” he told her, his body suddenly flooded with another surge of energy. “That can definitely be arranged. But first, a shower.”

chapter
TWENTY-THREE

“C
heyenne’s on her way here? Are you serious?” Jessie asked Kylie the following afternoon. Well, “yelled at her incredulously” was probably a more apt description, but whatever.

Jessie had been working on a pricing sheet for Cheyenne’s renovation when she overheard her sister on the phone. Somehow—for the life of her she really didn’t know
how
, because she was busting at the seams with curiosity—she had managed to keep her mouth shut until after Kylie’s call was finished, but as soon as she heard the telltale sound of the phone landing in the cradle, she’d darted to her sister’s office.

“It would seem so,” Kylie said, turning her attention back to her laptop.

“To look at the house with you?” Jessie asked, trying to spur Kylie into dishing up the dirt.

“Yes and no.”

“What does that mean?” Jessie knew what it meant, but again, she wanted Kylie to ’fess up because she could see on her sister’s face that she was holding something back.

“Travis called her. He told her about Brendon. She’s worried.”

“She’s
worried
? Why the hell is she worried?” Jessie knew she sounded indignant, mostly because she was, but this was a woman who’d blown Brendon off more times than not, so for her to be worried all of a sudden didn’t seem appropriate.

“She likes Brendon,” Kylie offered.

“Likes him? Like a friend? Like a friend who tries to push his buttons every time she sees him?”

“It’s not like that,” Kylie argued, her voice rising with her apparent frustration. “Cheyenne has always liked Brendon. We’ve even talked about it once or twice. She just doesn’t . . .”

“Doesn’t what?” Jessie implored.

“She’s not interested in the threesome thing.”

Well, that was a damn good thing because as far as Jessie was concerned, that wasn’t even a possibility anymore. At least not with Braydon being the third.

Oh, God.
The thought of Braydon and Brendon with Cheyenne . . . Jessie was pretty sure she was going to be sick. Rather than sit around and piss off her sister any more, Jessie left as quickly as she came, heading directly for the bathroom.

After washing her face and running cold water over her wrists and hands, she managed to pull herself together. But even then she didn’t leave the bathroom until Kylie was knocking on the door.

“Are you all right?”

“No,” she replied.

A second later, the door was opening and Jessie flew up from her perch on the closed toilet seat. “What are you doing?”

“I’m checking on you?”

“I wanted some privacy, Ky,” Jessie disputed.

“You’ve had enough. Now come on, let’s go to the break room.”

Unable to find any objection that would get her sister off her case, Jessie followed Kylie into the break room.

“I want to introduce you to Cheyenne,” Kylie told her after she had retrieved two cans of Diet Coke from the refrigerator and planted them on the small table.

Jessie dropped into one of the chairs and reached for the drink. She didn’t bother opening it, but she wrapped her hands around the cool aluminum.

“I don’t want to meet her,” Jessie mumbled.

“Oh, come on. Quit being a brat.”

Jessie glared at Kylie for a moment. “Fine, I want to meet her. But I don’t want her to have Braydon.”

“What the hell are you talking about? She doesn’t want Braydon.”

“No, but she apparently wants Brendon. And . . . God . . . I know it sounds stupid, even when I think it, but what if Braydon . . . ? What if he decides . . . ?”

“Lord have mercy.” Kylie sighed. “Do you hear yourself right now?”

Yes, she did. And yes, she thought she sounded crazy and paranoid—which so wasn’t the case—but she couldn’t help herself.

“Braydon loves you,” Kylie stated.

“I don’t know why, if that’s really the case,” Jessie returned. He had mentioned that once, but he’d never brought it up again. Granted, she hadn’t shared her true feelings with him then, and especially not now, so she couldn’t necessarily blame him.

“Have you told him?”

“Told him what?” Jessie asked, pretending not to understand.

“That you love him?” Kylie smirked.

“Well, no,” Jessie said in an
isn’t it obvious we
don’t talk about that stuff
sort of way. “We’re taking things slow.”

“Yep, that hickey on your neck sure tells me that you’re taking things slow.”

Instinctively, Jessie reached up and covered the hickey that Kylie was referring to. She hadn’t even realized he’d left a mark on her until she made it into work that morning. And at that point, she’d already put in too much time getting her hair piled on top of her head, so she hadn’t bothered to mess with it. Clearly she was going to have to be more careful.

“Okay, fine. You win.” Jessie didn’t know where Kylie was going with this.

“I don’t want to win,” Kylie said, reaching across the table and touching Jessie’s hand. “I want my sister to be happy. I want you and Braydon to have a chance at this. I personally don’t see Cheyenne as a threat.”

Jessie considered that for a moment. She couldn’t disagree, although she desperately wanted to, but that was her inner five-year-old talking. She wanted to argue for the sake of arguing. Mainly because she was scared. “I love him, Ky,” Jessie blurted.

“I know you do.”

“I don’t even know how to tell him. And I don’t think that we can do anything until we get Brendon under control.”

“Brendon’s a big boy. He’s going to figure this out. We just need to make sure he goes about that the right way.”

“And how do we do that?” Jessie asked. “Braydon’s practically babysitting him.”

“I think that’s why Travis called Cheyenne. He asked for a favor.”

“What sort of favor?”

“We were talking and we think it might be a good idea if Cheyenne can assure Brendon that she isn’t pissed at him. He hasn’t been right ever since he called her out at Moonshiners, treating her like a slut. He feels like shit about what he’s done to her.
And
to you.”

“To me?”

“Yeah, to you,” Kylie answered. “He wants to be friends, but he thinks he’s messed that up.”

“But he hasn’t,” Jessie assured her. “I’m his friend.”

“Have you told him that?”

“Well . . . no. I haven’t really talked to him though.”

“Maybe that’s the problem.”

“So what? Are you suggesting some sort of intervention?”

Kylie laughed. “God, no. That won’t work with Brendon. Even I know that much. I just think he needs some reassurance. Everyone seems to be talking, but they aren’t talking to him.”

Jessie thought about that. Her sister was right. Jessie had kept all her feelings guarded, bottled up inside. Especially when Braydon had been gone.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t make things right. After all, she was dating Braydon, and that was going to be a long-term thing. So it only made sense that she reach out to Brendon.

After all, they all had to shoulder some of the blame.

BRENDON HAD JUST
stepped out of the shower when he heard a knock on the front door. He wrapped a towel around his waist and listened for a moment, wondering if Braydon had made it home yet. When he didn’t hear his brother moving around, he opened his bedroom door in time to hear the knocking once again.

Reluctantly, he made his way across the living room. Figuring one of his brothers had come by to check on him, he pulled open the door, ready to blast them with all the reasons they needed to just leave him alone.

Instead of yelling, Brendon damn near swallowed his tongue.

“Hey,” Cheyenne greeted him softly, her eyes weary as they locked with his. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he answered reluctantly. “Uh . . . Fine. Why?”

When her gaze strayed, Brendon felt a heated trail down his chest, and that’s when he realized he was standing there in front of Cheyenne Montgomery in only a towel.

“Shit,” he bit out. “Sorry. I had no idea you were coming.”

“No, I’m sure you didn’t,” she said with a smile.

“Want to, uh, come in? I’ll go change, er . . . put clothes on. I just got out of the . . .”

“I get it, Brendon,” Cheyenne said with a strained laugh. “Go get dressed, and yes, I’ll come inside.”

Brendon stepped out of the way, allowing Cheyenne to come inside. The fresh, floral scent of what he assumed was her perfume tickled his nose, and for the first time in weeks, he felt something strange flickering in his chest. Hope?

God, he hoped not.

Shit.

“Give me two minutes,” he told her. Without waiting for her response, he made his way to his room and shut the door behind him.

Grabbing a pair of shorts and a T-shirt from his dresser, he managed to pull on his clothes. It wasn’t until he was dressed that he actually took a breath.

Okay, so this was really unexpected. What the hell was Cheyenne doing there? Especially after the last time he’d seen her at Moonshiners. Out of habit, he reached up to touch his eye. He knew the bruising was pretty much gone, but he still felt the ghost pain of the black eye Sawyer had given him the last time he had been in Cheyenne’s presence.

He wasn’t sure whether he should be pissed or excited about her arrival on his front porch.

“Want something to drink?” he asked when he forced himself back into the living room. He couldn’t very well hide out in his bedroom all day, now could he?

“Water?” she suggested.

Brendon nodded and then made a beeline for the kitchen. After retrieving two bottles of water, he again took a deep breath. Something inside of him said he shouldn’t get his hopes up about this visit. He didn’t think Cheyenne had come to see him of her own accord. For some reason, Brendon got the impression that Travis might have had a hand in this.

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