Emma Chase (16 page)

The next morning, I wake to a warm tongue in between my legs.

Oh my. 

I look down to see Braden spreading my legs farther apart.  I’ve always loved his mouth, and what it can do to my body is obscene. 

And I like it.  So I tell him that.

“I like your mouth on me,” I point out. 

A low laugh comes from his chest, and the rumble it sends between my legs is amazing. 

“Good, because I plan on putting my mouth on you a lot.”  Braden licks my clit.

My head slams back against the pillow as I moan in satisfaction.  My hips arch toward his tongue.

He looks up at me and winks.  “A lot,” he repeats, and he dives in.  He is licking and teasing that one spot that needs licking and teasing.

Damn.  I lose all thought. 

Braden comes up on his knees and draws one of my legs over his shoulder, placing a hand on the inside of my other thigh to hold it down so that I open myself more to him.
He continues his teasing and sucks my clit into his mouth.

That is the trigger.

I fist the sheets, call out his name, and explode in his mouth.

Braden growls as he
laps his tongue against me.

“Good morning,” I sigh.

“Good morning, baby,” he laughs.

Indeed it is a good morning.  Hell, it is a great morning.  Last night was the best night of my life.  Braden and I connected on a whole different level, and I know we are in this for the long haul. 

Braden crawls up my body and kisses me. “I love you,” he whispers.

Smiling, I
kiss his entire face.  First his forehead, then his cheeks, his nose, and his chin. “I love you too!”

“Good.  You.  Me.  Shower.”  He pulls us out of bed and leads me to the bathroom.

We are in the shower until the water gets cold.

Best.  Shower.  Ever!

Chapter Fifteen

Murphy is an hour and a half late, and by the time he shows up, not only am I busy, but I am pissed.  Juice had to stay to cover because we were smack in the peak of happy hour.

He stalks in wearing a wine-colored t-shirt, which, if I didn’t dislike him so much, would look fantastic as hell on him.  It goes well with his dark hair, goatee, and darker complexion. He has on dark blue jeans and black motorcycle boots.  The jackass rides a Harley, which—again— if I didn’t dislike him so much, would be sexy as hell.

When he makes it to the bar, I am pouring a round of shots for table twelve.  Table twelve has been here for two hours and they are a drinking bunch.

“Hey, boss,” he greets, pulling on an apron.

I eye his shirt and tilt my head at him. Extending my hand to him, I point my finger, running it in a sweeping motion.

“What are you wearing, Murphy?”

He looks down at his shirt and gives me a shit eating grin.  No answer. 

He thought he was just going to come in late, not dressed in uniform, and continue on like none of that matters.

Oh
hell
no.  Those days are done.

“You’re over an hour late,” I inform him.

“Sorry, but—“

I go on. “You’re also dressed out of uniform.”

“Whoops,” he responds.

I deliver the shots to the wait station,
face him, and cross my arms over my chest. “You’re over an hour late, you aren’t dressed in uniform, and when you are here, you don’t do anything but flirt with the town whores.  You don’t have anyone’s back around here but your own.  Why do you think you still have a job here?”

His head drops to the side as he sizes me up with a grin on his face.
“I suspect it’s because of my good looks and charm, boss.”

I cock
a brow.

His grin gets wider.
“I said I was sorry.”

“
Your apology means shit, Murphy.”

His smile drops and his face goes slack.  He opens his mouth to speak but
, nope I’m finished!

“You don’t even have an excuse.  As far as I’ve seen, you don’t take this job seriously.”  I
gape at him. “Take your apron off, and get to steppin’ right out the way you came in.  I’m done with you.”

“What?  Are you
firing
me?” His eyes grow big as his body gets rigid.

“I am,” I reply.

“But you can’t fire me.  Jim hired me,” Murphy responds.

“I’m here now. Jim knows you’re not worth the money he pays to keep you on board. Braden knows you slack on the job, Olivia has been dying for you to take a flying leap, and Juice thinks you’re an asshole.  We don’t need you anymore.  Go.”

“You’re serious?”

“I am.  Go.”

Murphy glares at me with his eyes wide and mouth wide—shock. He reaches around his back, unties his apron, puts it on the bar, and storms out the door.

My eyes slice to the regulars sitting a few feet away at the bar who quickly
avert their eyes and take pulls of their beers.

Juice rounds the bar and pulls me into a bear hug.
“I’ll stay on and help out,” he offers.

I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Thanks, Juice.”

“Daayyyyuuum, homegirl.  That was amazing!” Olivia skips up to the bar, giggling and slamming her tray on the wait station.  “That asshole had it coming to him for a long time now.”

“That wasn’t fun,” I mumble.

Olivia lets another giggle escape her.  “Dad never had it in him to fire that douchebag.  Too nice.  Now we got ourselves a pit bull behind the bar.”
She bounces up and down and bounds off to her customers.

Juice’s body starts shaking with laugher.

I look to the customers at the bar who are also laughing.

I get back to pouring beer and mixing up shots for a very thirsty table twelve, making a mental note to put a “Help Wanted” ad in the paper.

It’s a
couple of hours later when SHE walks in.  I am still hustling behind the bar.   It is Sunday night with a healthy crowd. 

My back straighten
s when I see her.

Tara
is strutting to the bar in a short, short black miniskirt, sleeveless red silk blouse, a pair of silver high-heels, and bling.  Holy cow—a lot of bling.  Her blond hair is pulled back in a complicated twist, and she has a huge Coach bag slung around her shoulder.  She is way too dressed up for a joint like this, which leads me to believe that she’s going to start a shit show.

Her heavily lined blue eyes roam around the bar until she spots me.
She heads straight for me.

She
plants herself onto a barstool, a look of disgust on her face.

Shit.

Olivia is running around and Juice is serving up libations to a group at the other end of the bar, so I put on my brightest, fakest smile.

"Hi, what can I get for you?" I greet,
getting a bar nap and sliding it on the bar in front of her. I was going for sweet and chill. 

She eyeball
s me from top to bottom. "A glass of chardonnay."

I nod, reach up, and snag a wine glass before turning to the mini wine fridge, removing a bottle of chardonnay, popping the cork, and pouring. I place the wine glass on the bar nap in front of her.

She
grips the glass, takes a big gulp, draining half of it, and looks around the bar without even so much as a thank-you. 

Bitch.

My eyes find Charlena and big Pete, whose eyes are on Tara.  I hurry down the bar, checking glasses and making sure we have plenty of bar naps and straws in the caddies. Never minding the fact that I did this just before she walked in the door.

I return to the spot where Tara
is sipping her wine and practically snarling at everyone. 

Uppity bitch.

"Do you know why Braden isn't answering my calls?" Tara shoots.

This surprise
s me.  Apparently, she wants me to claw her stupid eyes out before the night is over.

I
continue stuffing bar naps in the caddie next to her, eyes on the naps.  I shake my head.  "Sorry, I don't.  Maybe you should ask him."

"I would i
f he answered my calls," Tara clips.

Ok
ay, this is my cue to stock the clean glasses in the freezer.  I get three steps away when she pushes the wrong damn button.

"Don't walk away from me," she order
s in that uptight voice of hers that I am already finding ridiculous and annoying.

I
face her, hands on my hips, and close those three steps back to her.

Tilting my head to the side
, I ask in my bitchiest tone, "Excuse me, darlin'?"

She laugh
s at me.  It's on.

"I'm not your darlin'."

I open my mouth to respond, but she beats me to the punch.

"Word in town has it that you and him are an item now," she bit
es.  "The thing is, I don't know why he wants you when he can have and
has
had me."

I roll my eyes.  She
is trying to goad me into a fight.  I am going to let her.

"He's been mine for a long time
, Tara. We just had to get our shit sorted out."

Her eyes
get big and round. "I see he told you my name," she responds.  She goes on to say, "He wasn't yours a few months ago when his mouth was between my legs."

My neck
gets tight.  My hair is about to go up and the jewelry is coming off before I connect my fist to her face. 

Juice come
s up behind me, putting his hands on the bar on both sides of me, caging me in.   "And I think you need to get your prissy, too-good-your-shit-don’t-stink ass off that stool and be on your way, Tara," he suggests.

Olivia
appears, getting into her space. "Now," she clips.

Tara ignor
es both of them, putting her elbows to the bar and crossing her arms in front of her. Now it is her turn to tilt her head.

"So let me get this straight
. Braden had this"—she takes one hand, rotating it palm up—"and now he's settling for that?" She points at me.  "He decided to go slumming."

I move in
. So does Olivia and Charlena, who I hadn't noticed made her way over to where we are all standing.

Juice wrap
s his arm around my middle.  "You see, Tara, Braden put up with your ass because you were making yourself available to him.  You were actually a bit desperate from what I can remember.  When a man has a piece of ass that makes herself as readily available as you did to him, he's gonna hit it.  The only problem with that was"—he leans us both in—"he was thinking about Emma here the whole time."

Tara's mouth damn near hit the bar
, Olivia giggles, Charlena flat-out laughs, and I take in a sharp breath.

Tara
stands from the stool and says, "Fuck you."

"I'm busy
, sugar, but I'll keep you on speed dial," he shoots back at her.

Big Pete laugh
s.  I have no idea when he got here either.  I hear others nearby laughing too.

Her bag
slips off her shoulder, which she pulls up and slings back.  She never even took her bag off her shoulder tonight.  She planned to spew her poison and walk right back out the door. The problem with her plan is that it didn't go nearly the way she expected it to.

She glare
s at each of us one last time, throws one to the rest of the bar, and stomps out.

"Shit," I breathe.

Juice laughs, gives my middle a squeeze, and heads down the bar.

We all g
et back to work.

Chapter Sixteen

I don’t go home after work.  I go to Braden’s.  We made this decision—or for a more accurate choice of words,
Braden
made the decision—earlier in the day when he was very adamant on us spending as many nights together as possible.

It
isn’t that big of a deal considering that his house is closer to the bar than the apartment.  He lives in a beautiful home nestled into the foothills.  It is a two-level brick home with wall-to-wall windows that overlook the valley.  I love it.  The view is amazing from his back deck.  I can see myself living here.

When you first walk in, you come into the great room, which is half the length of the house. 
Well, I call it the great room. Braden calls it his man cave.  Here he keeps all of his biggest and best gadgets, TV, stereo system, and a huge black leather sectional couch.  Off to the side, he has a treadmill and a weight bench.  The back sliding glass door leads to a patio with a swimming pool and lounge chairs.

After you walk through the great room
/man cave, the home has a formal living room, which houses an old dining room table that stays riddled with mail, men’s health magazines, and other junk.

Just beyond that is a huge yet outdated kitchen.  I imagine gutting this kitchen and replacing it with hardwood flooring, all updated stainless-steel appliances, and a double wall oven.

Down the hall are the master bedroom, two smaller bedrooms, and a door leading down to a two-bedroom apartment that has a huge living space and also houses a flat screen TV, more exercise equipment, and a tan couch and loveseat set.

When I
get there, he wastes no time getting me undressed and into his bed. 

Braden rolls his hips against my body, the head of his dick teasing my entrance.  He raises himself up and over me, holding his cock in his hand.  He settles between my legs as I bend them and bring them wider.

Braden enters me and a groan escapes him while his head lowers into the crook of my neck. I gasp, and he moves slowly.

“Braden,” I breathe out, barely audible.

He lifts his head and closes his eyes, grinding his hips back and forth.  H
e is moving so slowly that it’s like torture.

He threads his fingers with mine and brings my arms above my head and together so that he can hold them with one hand while his other finds my hips.
His hooded eyes look into mine.

I wrap my legs around him to bring him closer and urge him to go faster.

“I love you,” he groans.

“Me too,” I reply.

“You are so beautiful,” he smiles, staring down at me.

I
am losing control of my emotions.  My heart is so full.  I am smiling again, laughing again. 

I place my hands on both sides of his face and whisper, "I finally feel again.  Because of
you
, I can feel again."

Braden pick
s up his pace, bending down to lick the skin behind my ear. I moan, and he starts thrusting inside of me—harder, faster.

“Oh my God, Braden!” I scream as I felt my orgasm erupt through my entire body.

“Keep your eyes open, baby.”

Braden pumps faster, burying himself deep as I
gaze up at his beautiful face.  His eyes are hooded, lips parted.

He growls loud and deep.  The pace of his hips slows and he stills, planting himself deep, keeping his eyes on me the entire time.

Wow!

He lowers his forehead to mine and closes his eyes a
s we come down.  I close mine and struggle to catch my breath.

Braden kisses and sucks his way down my neck, stopping at my shoulder and lightly nipping it. I smile and let out a little giggle.
He glances at me, flashing a hot, sexy grin and bringing his mouth to mine.

He rolls slightly, pulling out slowly and I gasp from the loss of him.

“I’ll never get over that look.  That look that you are completely satisfied and I was the one to put it there.”

I try to smile but
yawn.  Braden moves down to the foot of the bed, pulling the covers up over our bodies. 

I
flip on my side, pulled the cover up to my chin, and look over my shoulder. “Without you, I don't think that I would have made it through this hell I've been trudging through.”

"That's where you're wrong.  It was all you
. You didn't let anyone or anything that life threw at you to define you.  It's all in you, which has to make you the sexiest woman I've ever known.
I didn't do anything—just there for support."

If only he knew how wrong he really
is.

A moment later, he
extends his arms around me and pulls my body across the bed, my ass curling into his hips as he lifts his knees and settles into the crook of mine.  His front is pressed into my back.

“I love you
, baby,” he whispers, kisses and smiles against my ear.

I fall asleep safe in the arms of the man I love.