Light Me Up (3 page)

Her mother. 

Brian froze, but instead of the alarm she expected to see flash across his face, his mouth broke into a giant freaking grin. He hadn’t locked the bedroom door? She should’ve asked, sure, but she’d kind of assumed he’d known what would happen with the two of them alone in private. Jesus!

“Hello?” Footsteps came closer, and then she heard Sylvia muttering about the maid leaving the bathroom light on.

“Mom! Uh…don’t come in, I’m not feeling well,” she called.

Thank God, the approaching steps halted, but the irritation in her mother’s voice made her grit her teeth. “Oh, Candace.
Jennifer just told me she saw you looking as if you were about to pass out earlier. Have you drank too much?”

Brian’s face became a mask of silent laughter. She gave him a little punch in the shoulder. “Um…could be, I guess. Sorry.”

Sylvia sighed. “Are you okay?”

“I…yes. I’m okay.”

“I’ll get Brian and he can take you home. I didn’t see him downstairs, though. Do you know where he is?”

He took that moment to give her a little thrust, reminding her exactly where he was. She
stuck a warning finger in his face. He promptly bit it. Oh, this was kind of sick. “I’m sure he’s…down there somewhere.” At that, she was afraid he was going to lose it completely. But somehow he maintained his composure.

“Well, all right. I’ll go look. When you leave, don’t let everyone see you looking unwell. Go out the back.”

“Okay.”

“And about the talk we had earlier…I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just that I know what he means to you, and whether you believe it or not, I want to see you happy. Whatever that means to you. So you just…do what you feel is best.”

Candace suppressed a cringe as Brian’s jovial expression smoothed out then pinched into a frown. She watched the transformation with a sinking heart. “Thanks,” she said to her mother. A moment later, Sylvia shut the bedroom door, and absolute silence descended.

Brian slipped from her body and stepped away, not speaking at first. Candace licked her lips and eased herself down from the vanity, letting her skirt fall around her shaking legs. Her heart beat a painful rhythm in her chest.

“What exactly is it you’re supposed to do?” he asked, trying to sound casual as he zipped himself up. She knew him, though. He couldn’t hide the little edge in his voice from her.

Her brain replayed her mother’s words and she wondered how he’d taken them. “We just…she was asking me, like, what our…future plans are.”

“What did you say?”

She shrugged, turning to check out her reflection and take stock of the
damage for the first time. Holy hell. No, she really couldn’t let anyone see her looking like this, hair all bedraggled and lipstick smeared liberally around her mouth. “I mean, you and I haven’t …discussed anything lately, so I just told her to back off. We don’t need her trying to intervene in our lives.”

“She doesn’t like you being shacked up with me.”

As usual, he cut to the heart of the matter. Candace began jerking bobby pins from her hair. Better to just let it tumble down. “I don’t care what she likes.”

“You do a little, or you wouldn’t be yanking half your hair out with those pins.”

Sighing, she tossed the pins down and set about fixing her face, sharing glances in the mirror with him every few seconds. He buttoned his shirt and made a few quick adjustments to his own appearance, running his fingers through his thick black hair. Then he moved toward the door. “Guess I’d better go make myself available for her to find, or she might come back.”

She hated the uncertainty in his eyes. It shouldn’t be there, not about
her
. She reached for his hand before he could go, rubbing it gently between her own. “Hey. I love you.”

“I love you too, babe.” He pulled away and was gone.

Dammit. She cleaned up the remnants of their pleasure from between her legs, then continued trying to tame her hair into something presentable in case they didn’t manage to slip out unnoticed. And what the hell to do with her ruined panties and the tiny vibrator? She couldn’t hide them in the empty wastebasket for the housekeepers to find, and she had no pockets.

Maybe she’d just slip them in Brian’s when he came back to collect his sloppy-drunk girlfriend.

Chapter Two

The drive home was too quiet. The lighted houses Candace usually enjoyed looking at slipped past the windows of Brian’s truck virtually unseen. She focused on him, his every breath, every movement, even when she wasn’t looking right at him. He didn’t seem upset that he was still a subject of dissension between her and her parents—hell, he was used to it by now. But it shouldn’t have to be that way. He didn’t deserve it. He was amazing and wonderful and if they would just pull the reindeer antlers out of their
asses, they would see that.

Maybe they were making progress, though. At least the word “wedding” had actually dropped from her mother’s lips. It was a far better word than some of the others she’d uttered about him in the past.

She reached over and laced her fingers through his. He gave her a smile, but it didn’t have its usual spark. For some reason, that more than anything else shredded her heart.

“Brian, she asked when we were getting married. She wanted me to ask
you
that. That’s all she meant when she told me to do what I thought was best.”

If he’d been still before, now he was frozen.
Oh, shit.

“Really?”

Swallowing against the dryness in her throat, she stroked his fingers with her thumb. “Really. I don’t know if it was one of her ploys or not, though. At first I thought it was, but now…I’m not sure.”

“Ploy for what?”

“Maybe to get me to bring it up to you and scare you off? You know how she is. I don’t know. We don’t have to talk about this.”

“Baby, that
ain’t happening. So put it out of your head.”

Relief blazed a trail through her chest. She’d known, she
had
, really, but…to hear him say it was more beautiful than all the Christmas carols in the world. “You’re a saint to put up with all this. I swear, Brian, they’re my family, but if you say the word—”

“Stop that.” He drew her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “As long as they stay the fuck away from my business, I can handle them.”

She fell silent. He referred to the incident that happened shortly after they got together—her older brother Jameson being so outraged his little sister was sleeping with Brian Ross that he trashed Brian’s tattoo parlor. Her family’s hatred and animosity toward the man she loved had nearly sent her running, because she didn’t see any way out from them—at least not for the foreseeable future—and she didn’t want to put Brian through their wrath.

In many ways, she was different now. She’d graduated college. She’d abandoned the career path she’d planned for in deciding to help Brian with his parlor—a decision made solely for herself and for him, not her parents. She didn’t live under a roof they paid for. She was free of them financially. If her relationship with them
was going to consistently drive wedges between her and Brian, she would just have to free herself from them altogether. The thought was one that had loomed for a long time, and it saddened her, but what else could she do?

“And,” he said as he turned into the parking lot of their apartment complex, “as long as you love me and aren’t planning to cut and run, then there’s nothing at all to worry about.”

“I would have to be insane to leave you. God, Brian. Don’t you know that?”

There was the spark
she’d been missing. The smile from him that lit up her entire world. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. “I know it, but I still like to hear you say it.”

Of course, she knew just what he meant.

Their apartment—his apartment that she’d moved into not long after they got together—was a sight for sore eyes. Decorated mostly with his art and a few of her girly touches, it was small but she considered it the first real home she’d ever had. Her parents’ house was like a museum: gigantic, cold, and while you could look, you could never, ever touch. Her first apartment had been paid for with their money and while she’d decorated it herself, it had been under her mother’s critical eye. But Sylvia had never stepped foot here, and probably never would. That was fine with Candace.

She moved around turning on some lamps and then plugging in the lights on their Christmas tree. Brian started some music.

“So ready to get out of this dress,” she said, heading for the bathroom to do just that.

“I’m ready too,” Brian called after her, giving her a shiver of happiness.

“Want to help?”

“You know it.”

She flipped on the bathroom light and curled her lip at her appearance. “I suppose that’s a part of the plan you have for me tonight?”

“A big part.” He appeared behind her, and she smiled at his reflection in the mirror.

“Want to clue me in yet?”

Without giving a reply, he slid his hands up her bare arms, leaving gooseflesh in their wake, then pulled the straps of her dress down. “You’ll put your hair back up for me?”

“Of course. You just like messing it up, don’t you?”

“I do, but not this time.”
A tug at the back of her dress, then a loosening as he pulled down the zipper. She stood still as he let the fabric slip down her body and pool at her feet, glad to be rid of it. In short order, her strapless bra followed, leaving her naked since he’d demolished her panties in her old bathroom.

She watched in the mirror as his gaze slowly slid down and up again, seeming to caress her every curve and lingering on his favorite ones: her breasts and nipples with their silver rings. His fingers lightly traced around her waist to her belly, hands forming a V as he moved them down to the bare juncture of her thighs. He watched the slow progression intently, and she loved watching
him
. Before she knew it, her breath was coming in shallow pants as arousal tightened her muscles under his seeking fingers.

“I’m going to draw you like this,” he said, and her knees went weak. Again.

“Like…this?”

“With your hair up, that beautiful neck bared. Along with everything else.” Gently, he gathered her hair at her nape and lifted it, grazing the side of her neck with his lips.

“Oh my…God.”

He’d drawn her before; it was something he loved to do. Right now, a portrait he’d done of her during their turbulent inception as a couple hung over their bed. More than once, she’d been relaxing and watching TV with him while he doodled on his sketch pad, only for him to lift it up later and show her the breathtaking profile of her he’d sketched out while she hadn’t even known. But he hadn’t done that in a while, and well, he’d never asked to draw her nude.

She closed her eyes as his hands released her hair then traveled all over her body, almost as if he were memorizing her lines and curves to better help him transfer them to paper. “Is that okay, sunshine? Just know if you say no, you spoil all my carefully made plans.”

Was he crazy?
No
had never even occurred to her. She was too busy trying not to go up in flames, shove him onto the bed in the next room and ride him to ecstasy. His hands covered both her breasts, kneading lightly. She inhaled to drive them further into his touch. “You know my answer is yes. My answer is always yes to you.”

He grinned at her in the mirror, his smile white and beautiful against his olive complexion. Hopefully this would involve him getting naked too, at least before the night was over. “Let’s hope so. Now get ready for me.” He kissed her cheek, then turned and left her melting, watching him go adoringly.

God, she loved that man.

Repairing her hair wasn’t such a chore this time, as she wasn’t striving for perfection. For this, she left it soft and a little disarrayed, some tendrils still hanging in loose ringlets. She hoped he would like it. Donning her fuzzy pink robe, sh
e headed toward the living room where she found him rearranging the throw pillows on their couch.

He’d changed into a pair of ripped, faded jeans, but he’d lost his shirt, for which she’d be eternally grateful since she was more than a little obsessed with his body.
His ink, his piercings. Lord. She swallowed thickly.

“How is this?” she asked, more to get his attention than his opinion. She already knew what he would say.

“Gorgeous. Perfect.” The way he smiled told her he genuinely thought so.

Candace took a deep breath and moved closer, fingers clenched on her robe. Given her thudding heart and ragged breath, it was almost as if she’d never been naked for him before. “I think this’ll work,” he said, eyeing the pillow arrangement critically. “Go ahead and lie down and we’ll work on pose.”

She licked her lips and slipped out of her robe, which he took from her. As soon as the air hit her nipples, they tightened—or maybe it was because his gaze automatically went there. “This may very well be the greatest idea I’ve ever had,” he said as she stretched out on the couch.

She would’ve laughed if she weren’t so damn turned on. Every inch of her body felt incredibly sensitized, and if he’d touched between her legs, he’d have found her slick and swollen. Hell, if he touched between her legs, she’d end up needing to fix her hair again.

He urged her onto her left side and a little more upright, resting her elbow on the arm of the couch and adding another pillow under it to make her more comfortable. “Put your hand here, like this,” he said, moving her hand so that it was against her cheek. “Can you hold that?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

As he continued to work, she simply went limp and let him situate her however he wanted. He brought her right leg forward over her left and bent it at the knee so she wasn’t showing
everything
, then paused in his task to stroke his hand over the curve of her hip. “Damn. That’s hot. This is going to be perfect.”

“And for your eyes only, right?” she teased.

He gave her a wry look. “Given that I’d beat the fucking shit out of anyone else who saw you like this, yes.”

“You’re not going to, like, have it tattooed across your back or anything?”

“There’s an idea,” he laughed. He moved her right arm so that it lay along her side, not obstructing the view of her breasts. “Are you comfortable? Seriously. It shouldn’t take me long but I’d rather you speak now than have to adjust anything.”

Without moving anything except her eyes, she looked up at him. “Yes.”

He stroked her jaw with his index finger. “You’re beautiful. Once you see this you might
want
to show everyone.”

“I doubt that!”

“Tell you what. I’ll do a quick close-up of your face too. Then you can show whoever you want.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

He stood back and looked at her from head to toe, giving her a few minor adjustments. Then he dragged his chair over and sat, propping his ankle on his opposite knee and reaching for his large sketchpad. Of course, after that, he moved his chair three times to find just the right angle. All the while she watched him in amusement, falling more in love with him every passing minute if that were possible. He was never satisfied until his work was flawless, and if he needed another hour to make it that way, he would take it.

“Okay,” he finally announced. “Ready.”

“You know, you’ve drawn me from memory before. I think you just want to have an excuse to stare at me naked,” she said.

“There is that,” he agreed, and she giggled when he didn’t dispute the accusation.

Now came the hard part—remaining still and quiet while he needed total concentration. But that was okay, because it gave
her
an excuse to look at him and nothing else the entire time he worked. Shirtless, intense, his black hair tousled and his dark blue gaze roving all over her body as his graphite pencil roved the paper…yes, this was the greatest idea he’d ever had. Time crept by, and she became aware of her pulse all over, especially between her thighs, and she squeezed them together trying to assuage the building ache. That felt good though, so she kept doing it. The rhythmic movements only worked to encourage her arousal.

He took that moment to look up at her over his pad. His eyes followed the curve of her hip, and she felt that gaze so acutely it could’ve been his hands stroking her skin.
The damp flesh hidden from his view throbbed and burned. “God, I want you,” she blurted.

“Baby, you have no idea,” he muttered, now looking down at his pad. “I could break rocks over here right now.”

Oh, damn, that didn’t help at all. Brian looking so unimaginably hot right now didn’t help, either. All that hard male flesh exposed. His bare feet, which never failed to fascinate her—was there anything about him that didn’t? She could scarcely see the movement of his hands on his pad. Those hands were works of art—big and graceful, they created beautiful things and they never failed to make her body sing.

Turnabout was fair play. “I’m so wet. I would touch myself, but I can’t move.”

He completely stopped and looked up at her. He didn’t have to say a word; she knew what the thought of her masturbating did to him—it was a thing. A thing the mere mention of was likely to get her fucked senseless, to drive all thought of it out of her head.

She undulated her hips in tiny, subtle circles. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it.”