“I wasn’t with you.”
“You are now, and I aim to keep it that way.”
His words both anger me and make me hot.
“Have you thought any more about coming back to my bed?” he asks.
Those words just make me hot.
“I don’t want to talk about that here,” I say.
“Why?”
“Why? Because we’re nearly screaming at each other to be heard above the band.”
“Let’s go out to the lobby, then.”
“I can’t. I have to watch Tessa’s bag.”
“Tessa’s bag will be fine. If it’s not, I’ll replace everything in it.” He stands. “Come on.”
“She’d never forgive—”
“For God’s sake.” He reaches for my hand and tugs me along behind him.
We walk along the outer edge of the ballroom to the entrance and then through the hallway into the lobby.
“Why did you come here, Braden?”
“I already told you. To keep you from getting into someone else’s bed.”
I tilt my chin upward. “Why is that any of your concern?”
“Because I want you in my bed, Skye. Haven’t I made that clear? And I’m not very good at sharing.”
“What about what I want? Has that occurred to you?”
“You seemed to have a good time in bed with me.”
Oh, yes, I did. The problem occurred when it was over.
“You’re not denying it,” he says.
“No, I’m not. The actual act itself was…acceptable.”
He lets out a boisterous laugh—the first time I’ve truly heard him laugh—and I mean really lets it out. His whole face lights up, and God, he’s handsome.
He finally curbs his laughter. “Acceptable? You’re something else, Skye.”
I cross my arms, trying not to frown. “Making fun of me again?”
“No, I’m not, actually. You are a challenge, Skye Manning, and I never back down from a challenge.”
Okay. Not sure what to say to that, so I say nothing. Just stand my ground, hoping I can keep up this charade of being in control.
Because I’m not in control. Braden strips me of it.
“The act itself was acceptable,” he says. “Are you saying something else about our time together wasn’t acceptable?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
He smiles. “Don’t leave me in suspense.”
Now or never, Skye. Time to fess up. I want this man. I want to go back to his bed, but not if kicking me out afterward is his habit.
I clear my throat. “Fine. I didn’t like how it ended.”
“I seem to recall it ended with both of us climaxing. What was wrong with that?”
“That’s part of the act. The act was acceptable, as I’ve told you. I’m talking about after the act.”
“I believe you left.”
“That’s not how I’d phrase it. You didn’t say a word to me other than to tell me Christopher would take me home. You left me alone to get dressed—”
“Did you want help dressing?”
I uncross my arms and extend my fingers, trying to ease the tension that’s overtaking me. “Would you let me finish? God.” I pull my hair off my neck. It’s so hot in this lobby. Except the temperature in the lobby is fine—it’s Braden who’s supplying the heat.
“Fine. Go ahead.”
“You kicked me out, Braden. It was…”
“It was what?”
“Humiliating, all right? It was fucking humiliating. I felt…disposable.”
“I don’t regulate how you feel, Skye. You do.”
I shake my head, anger rising in my gut. That’s the whole problem. I don’t have any power with Braden.
And I don’t like it at all.
Except that I do. And I really hate that I do.
I glare at him.
“I don’t consider you disposable, so why do you?”
I curl my hands into fists. Seriously, fists. I really want to punch his superior nose. Another way I’m not in control. So much for releasing the tension.
“I don’t consider myself disposable, which is why, Braden, if you want me in your bed so badly, you can’t treat me as if I am. You can’t just kick me out when you’re done.”
“We were both done.”
“Maybe you were,” I say. “Personally, I had several more orgasms left in me.”
What a fucking lie. The only two orgasms I’ve ever had took place that night, but he doesn’t know that, and I’m not about to clue him in.
He seems to struggle with what to say next before finally running a hand through his hair, mussing it up and looking extremely sexy. “I don’t normally let anyone spend the night at my place.”
Why? What made you this way? Will I ever be able to get close to you other than sexually?
The words hover on my tongue, but I can’t ask the questions. Instead, “Then don’t. I won’t go back to bed with you if you’re going to make me leave afterward. Simple as that.”
He sighs, rubbing his forehead as if in resignation. “Fine. If that’s what it takes to get you back in my bed, you can stay until morning. Does that suffice?”
No. It doesn’t suffice. I don’t even know what would suffice. “I don’t have to stay. I just would like the option.”