So Much More (Made for Love #3) (38 page)

She arrives at the apartment only a couple minutes before I do. I walk in, hang my bike, drop my bag, and then we’re stripping each other of our clothing without a word passed between us. I make her come first with my mouth, then with my cock, loving every damn minute.

“It’s getting late, babe,” she murmurs, hooking one of her legs over mine as she rests her cheek against my chest. “I know you promised me three, but if you want to call it a night, it’s okay.”

I furrow my brow and poke her side, coaxing her to look up at me. She giggles as I shake my head. “Hell no, we aren’t going to
call it a night.
I just need a minute.” I roll us over so that I’m on top of her, propped between her legs. “I intend to sink myself in you one more time, Sunshine.” I trace my nose up the side of her neck and then gently pull her earlobe between my teeth. “Not just because I owe you,” I speak softly, brushing a kiss against her cheek. “I want to get you high—high on me, on my love for you. I want to make you fly, baby. I want you to come so hard that you don't ever want to let me go.”

“I already don’t want to let you go,” she sighs, running her fingers through my hair. “Brandon, I love you so much.”

Before I can respond in kind, I hear her phone. My first instinct is to ignore it, but that's what I thought the last time I heard it. And the time before that. Instead, I smack a kiss against her lips and roll away from her, reaching for her purse.

“Where are you going? What are you doing?”

“Do you know your phone keeps ringing?” I ask, pulling it out to show her.

“Yeah. I don't know that number,” she replies with a shrug. “Whoever it is won't leave a voicemail, either. I'm kind of hoping they'll just give up at some point.”

“It's eleven o'clock at night,” I point out with a scowl. “Do you mind?”

She grins at me as she shakes her head. “By all means, tell them they’re interrupting my flying lesson.”

I chuckle, offering her a wink as I answer the call. “Hello?”

“Hello? Who is this?”

My amusement vanishes at the sound of his voice. “Considering you’ve called a dozen times, I think I have more reason to be asking
you
that question.” Sarah props herself up on her elbows, an unspoken question in her eyes.

“I'm looking for Sarah.”

Somehow I know, without further promoting, that this is that asshole, Luke. As I stand to my feet, I wonder how long I'll be able to keep my shit together. “I gathered as much. She's indisposed. Who are you and what do you want?”

“What do you mean, she's indisposed? Who the hell is this?”

Ten seconds.

That’s how long I manage to keep my shit together. Now, I see red.

Sarah must see the shift in my disposition. In an instant, she’s scrambling to her feet, bringing the sheet along with her. Now I'm even more pissed—asshole has my sweet girl covering herself up.

“Is that Luke?!” she cries softly. “Hang up!”

I shake my head at her and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, her anxiety fogging those perfect blue eyes.

“Hello? Are you still there? I asked you a question!”

“Actually, you asked me two,” I bite back. “As you seem to have a fairly
poor
vocabulary, I’ll let you know what
indisposed
means—she’s in bed.
My
bed, unable to talk right now. At least she
was,
until she guessed that your dumb ass was on the phone. Now she’s just indisposed to speak to
you
—as in,
reluctant
. Seeing as how I like to keep my girl happy, I’m just going to go ahead and let you know that I won’t be handing over this phone.”

“Listen—I don’t know who the hell you are—”

“I’m her boyfriend—her faithful,
unwed
boyfriend. Now, is there something I can help you with, or are you about ready to lose her number?”

“Put her on the damn phone!”

Worry tugs at Sarah’s brow as she takes a step closer to me. “What if it’s about Micah?” she whispers. “Maybe I should take it?”

By the grace of God, the memory of our first kiss pops into my head. I remember finding her in the kitchen, making a batch of monster cookies.
Micah’s favorite
. No matter how much she might despise Luke, I know she misses that kid. She misses all of her kids. It’s who she is.

“You don’t have to talk to him,” I tell her, pulling the phone from my ear.

“I’ll get rid of him,” she assures me, taking the device from my hand. As she presses the phone against the side of her face, she leans against my chest. Looking into her eyes, I see what she needs.

Me
.
My strength. My fire.

I wrap my arms around her, keeping my gaze locked with hers as she begins to speak.

“Is Micah okay?” I regret that I can no longer hear what he’s saying. Even still, it doesn’t take me long to form an assumption. Micah’s fine. His reasons for calling are purely selfish ones. “You’re joking—you’re fucking
joking,
right?”

Her eyes fill with tears and it takes every bit of willpower I’ve got not to snatch the phone away from her and rip this guy a new one. This is her fight, now. I’ve got to let her battle it out.

“You’re a lying bastard—I hope you know that! You never loved me. You’ve only ever loved yourself. Well, I’ve moved on and I sure as shit don’t plan on going backwards. Don’t ever, ever,
ever,
call me again!” She hangs up and drops her phone before she buries her face in my chest.

“Hey, are you alright?” I ask, tangling my fingers in her hair as I gently squeeze the back of her neck. “What’d he say to you?”

“His wife left him,” she sniffs.

“So, what? He thought he could get you back?” She nods as she slides her arms around my waist. “Fucking asshole.”

“I’m so sorry,” she cries, titling her head up to look at me. “I’m sorry that he called and ruined—”

“Hey—I don’t want to hear it, Sunshine. I don’t want to hear you
apologizing
for his behavior. It’s done, it’s over. It’s not your fault. Don’t be sorry for anything.” I wipe away her tears before I grip her face between my hands and lean down to kiss her lips. “And you
sure as shit
better not be crying over him,” I tease, using her line.

She frees an airy, halfhearted laugh as she shakes her head. “He just made me really angry. I don’t miss him, I don’t want him.”

“I know you don’t,” I state, propping my forehead against hers. “Can I tell you something?” She nods, moving my head along with hers. A smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth before I continue. “Hearing you call him on his shit…it was kind of sexy.”

She chuckles as she reaches up to wrap her arms around my neck. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Want to bet?” I ask, tugging the sheet from around her body. She absentmindedly runs her tongue across her bottom lip when I press my hardened length against the bare skin of her stomach. “You’re mine,” I mutter, my mouth grazing hers. “Now he knows.”

She pushes herself up onto her tiptoes and kisses me fiercely.

“Brandon?”

“Yeah, baby?”

She pulls away from me, reaches for my hands, and backs her way to the bed.

“I’m ready to fly.”

“A
RE YOU GOING TO
Brandon’s tonight?” asks Aria as we make our way out of the gym. I’m surprised either of us can still walk at all.

Well—I suppose she must be used to it now. As for me, four weeks in Josh’s class and he’s still kicking my ass. On the flip side, though, I think I might be able to do some ass kicking myself, now that I’ve got a few moves under my belt.

“You know what? Don’t answer that,” she says, holding up a hand. “I already know you are. Have you been home at all this week?”

I grin at her as I shake my head. Aside from the pit stop I made on Monday night after class, I haven’t been at home. I would say that I’ve been happily living out of my bag, but that’s not true. When I got off of work on Tuesday—
Brandon finally surrendered to my insistence that I close without him three nights a week
—I walked into the apartment to find my bag empty and in the closet. He made room for my stuff in his dresser.

It’s like he loves me and he doesn’t want me to leave, or something…

My heart does a happy dance.

“You might as well move in with him.”

“He doesn’t have enough room for all my baking stuff. You should see his kitchen—every nook and cranny is filled with some sort of essential baking gadget. It’s actually quite amazing.”

“Do you
hear
yourself?” she asks with a laugh. “Not enough room for your
baking stuff?
God—you two are so fucking adorable. Would you just get married already? And pop out some gorgeous baking geniuses while you’re at it.”

“How about I meet his mom, first?” I ask with a laugh.

“Oh, yeah! You’re doing that this weekend, right? Are you nervous? Don’t be nervous,” she continues without pause. “I remember when I met Josh’s parents. Shit—his mom is like the mama bear from hell. He’s her only son out of four kids
and
he’s the baby. The first time I came over for family dinner, I was afraid she was going to attack at any second.

“But Josh was perfect. He knew how to handle her. I remember thinking, if she was a bear, he was my lion. I have no idea what Brandon’s mom will be like, but I know for a fact that he’ll be your lion, too.”

I don’t know too much about Brandon’s mom, either. From what I’ve gathered, I don’t have to be afraid of her
mama bear
instincts. The unfortunate reality is that those traits went into hibernation years ago. I know that it’s had a detrimental impact on their relationship. He loves her anyway, though. She must love him, too; otherwise, she wouldn’t be interested in meeting me.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t be so nervous. I just really want her to like me.”

“He loves you. At the very
least
she’ll like you.” We stop just beside my car and she wraps me in a hug. “Ignore my sweat and I’ll ignore yours,” she demands. We laugh together and give each other one more good squeeze. “Tell Brandon I say
hello
and thanks for sharing his girl.”

“I will!”

Brandon’s not home when I arrive. Since he gave me his spare key earlier this week, I’m able to get inside and strip down for the shower I so desperately need. I know he’ll be home any minute and I’d much rather I smell like
Brandon’s Sunshine
than
Sarah’s workout
. The hot water feels amazing beating against my tired muscles—so amazing that when the song that’s in my head begins to play, I start to sing it aloud.

I used to sing in the shower all the time. I didn’t realize it then, but it was a sign that I was happy. I know that I suck and my friends think I sound horrendous, but I don’t care. It’s fun; and when I belt out the lyrics to my favorite jams, it’s a reflection of my mood. Right now, I’m glad that I’m overcome by my desire to sing Megan Traynor at the top of my lungs.

Knowing that Brandon will be home soon, I don’t stay in the shower for too long. As soon as I get out, I give my hair a quick towel dry before wrapping myself up and making my way out of the bathroom. I’m still humming as I go. That is, until I see Brandon leaning against the doorframe, his bike half in, half out of the apartment. I jump, startled by his sudden appearance, and squint when I see his helmet hanging from the handlebars. I wonder if he wore it home. Then I notice that he’s not coming inside.

“Hey, welcome home. I didn’t hear you.” He smirks at me but still doesn’t make a move to come inside. “What are you doing, babe?”

He runs a hand down his face as he shakes his head at me. I knit my eyebrows together, expressing my confusion.

“It was a long night. I don’t know why, but it was one of those nights where shit just happened. I left pissed off. The whole ride here I was trying to shake it, but I couldn’t. Then I opened this door and—all I could smell was you. It immediately made me feel better. Then I heard you singing—or whatever you want to call that—and it made me laugh. For a second, I just wanted to stand here and listen to you
be
at home.

“Then you walked out in that towel. Now the only thing I can think about is bending you over that couch so that I can fuck you. I don’t want to be slow. I don’t want to be gentle. I just want to
fuck
my woman.”