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“And why fantasy and paranormal?”

“Because reality has no authority there. My imagination controls everything.”

To my surprise, Braden’s hold on my waste loosened a little, like I’d said something that surprised him. I looked up at his profile to see he was staring ahead, wearing a frown.

“Braden?”

He looked down at me.

“You okay?”

After a moment’s contemplation, he said quietly, “It’s funny … I like that I can’t work you out. At the same time, it makes me nervous.”

“You? Nervous?” I laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

He smirked but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You meant it when you said you were complicated, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

He cupped my face in his hands and leaned his forehead against mine. “Fuck, I want to know you, Jocelyn Butler.”

I gripped his waist. “What if you don’t like what you find?”

Something like fear flickered in his gaze but I shook that thought off. Surely Braden Carmichael wasn’t afraid of anything.

“I don’t think any reality exists in which I wouldn’t like you. Even if you make trying fucking impossible.”

I found myself pressing my body into his, loving his words … but wishing that I didn’t see the pleading in the back of those eyes.

He needed me to not make it fucking impossible.

And I knew the reason why.

She deserves all my attention, my focus. I will always put her first.

Abby.

***

The rest of our date was more relaxed. Our “getting to know you” part of it became more lighthearted. We talked about the little things, like movies and music and pet hates.

“You? Mr. I-Tell-Women-I-Want-To-Fuck-Them-In-Public hates it when men don’t open the door for women?”

“Open doors for them, pull out chairs for them, carry luggage for them … It’s called being a gentleman. And technically, you’re the only woman I’ve ever said that to in public.”

“I’m honored.”

He grinned. “What can I say? You bring it out in me.”

As we laughed and talked, I let the beginning of our date fade out and enjoyed myself. Braden was affectionate and I relished his touch, even if it was driving my sexual frustration to new levels.

He even made us stop on the Royal Mile to take a selfie.

I’d flushed with this unknown, overwhelming feeling at the image of me standing cuddled into Braden. He grinned into the camera with that crooked smile while I gave a bemused, half-smile.

“You’re sexy as fuck,” he said, putting his phone back in his pocket.

I grinned up at him, pleased and amused by how annoyed he sounded. “That’s a problem?”

“It is when you’re trying to be a gentleman. Woman can’t even take a fucking selfie without making me want to screw her against an alley wall,” he muttered, grabbing my hand and marching me up the mile.

I laughed so hard, he had no choice but to join me.

The Winner

Our next couple of dates went similarly well. We couldn’t see each other the following weekend because it was Braden’s weekend with Abby, so we’d chatted on the phone a lot. It wasn’t the same as being together in person, and when we saw each other the following weekend, one date wasn’t enough time.

For the most part, we focused on lighthearted banter, only getting serious when Braden talked about Abby and Kiersten. It turned out the whole suitcase thing was a ploy. Kiersten had said she was packing up to go home to Dundee because she couldn’t afford to live in Edinburgh anymore.

This was the third time she’d tried this.

And it was the third time Braden had threatened to go for full custody of Abby, ensuring that Kiersten lost the child support she already got, which wasn’t an insignificant amount.

She’d then tried to win him over to her side by sobbing.

It only made Braden angrier and I knew he was worried about his kid.

“A little girl needs her mum,” he’d said helplessly.

“A little girl needs a stable mum,” I’d said gently, sliding my fingers through his.

His hand had curled around mine. “I know. I don’t know what I should do.”

“I think … I think you should start keeping a record of Kiersten’s erratic behavior.”

His eyes had snapped to mine as he processed my words and he’d lifted his hand to my face, his thumb caressing the outline of my lower lip. “Aye. I think you’re right.”

I’d kissed him to comfort him because I couldn’t imagine how messed up it must be to have to think about taking your kid away from her mother.

The kiss had turned heated within seconds and at the sound of laughter behind us, I’d pulled back, remembering we were in a pub.

“I don’t know if I can wait much longer,” Braden had said, his words practically a growl.

“I’m not asking you to.”

***

“You didn’t have to hold my hand all the way up here,” I said to Braden as I turned the key in my door. “I can make it up the stairs when I’m tipsy.”

We’d spent most of the afternoon and early evening in the pub. We’d eaten lunch there first and then sat in a cozy corner enjoying a few drinks and banter that was turning increasingly sexual in nature.

As I pushed my flat door open, I felt Braden’s strong hands on my hips and his warm breath on my ear as he asked softly, “Tipsy, or drunk?”

My breath caught as we stepped inside, Braden close at my back. “Tipsy.”

It was true. I was feeling a little giddy and more talkative than usual, but my vision was clear and my coordination was intact.

And I wanted him.

“You sure?”

Turning around, I reached past him and shoved my door shut, leaning my breasts into his chest as I turned the lock. I tipped my head back to meet his heated gaze. “If you’re wondering if I’m sober enough to fuck without feeling like you’re taking advantage, the answer is definitely yes.”

Braden grinned. “What a mouth you have on you.”

I pressed deeper into him. “You have no idea.”

His hand tightened on my hip and I watched as the teasing glint in his eyes disappeared, replaced by the most intense look of need I’d ever seen.

“Strip,” he uttered quietly, deadly serious.

Shock and excitement rushed through me at the demand, and I felt my legs tremble. Arousal had seized every part of me and I felt very impatient for him. He didn’t need to know that, though.

Indignant, I huffed, “You really are a bossy son of a bitch.”

“Jocelyn …” He dipped his head so his lips were inches from mine, and I had nowhere to look but deep in his gorgeous eyes. “I’ve been fantasizing about seeing you naked since we met. I don’t want to play games. I don’t have the patience for them. I want to watch you take your clothes off and I want to savor the moment. Then I’m going to take you to your room and I’m going to kiss and suck and lick every inch of you. After which we’ll fuck. Hard. Deep. Slow.”

Holy fuckity fuck fuck.

Arousal shot between my legs, making me wet, and it tingled across my breasts, tightening my nipples into hard points.

And I was sure all this man had to do was brush his thumb over one aroused peak and I would come.


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