And I’ve never been so satisfied in my life.
With a whoosh, Braden removes the blindfold. “You can speak now and move your hands.”
But I have no words.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Have I truly rendered you speechless?” Braden says, a glint in his eye. “Seems unbelievable.” He’s on his side, his head propped on his hand. He stares down at me.
I reach forward and push a stray hair over his forehead. “What do you want me to say?”
“You can start with, ‘Wow, Braden. You rocked my world.’”
I laugh. “Isn’t that pretty obvious?”
“See what happens when you give in to me?”
I smile but say nothing. Because I’ve stumbled upon a secret.
I haven’t given in. I used my control to keep from speaking, to keep my hands in place. I used my control to be certain I ended this evening with an orgasm.
He may think he controlled me, but he didn’t.
The glint in his eye remains, but a cloud hovers over us. Does he know my secret? Does he care?
Finally, I speak. “It was amazing.”
He kisses my lips softly. “Go to sleep.”
…
I wake to light streaming in through the wall of windows in Braden’s bedroom. As promised, he didn’t make me leave. But where is he?
I’m still stark naked. I wander to the bathroom quickly and then into Braden’s closet. I grab a white shirt and put it on. What can only be 100 percent cotton is cool over my shoulders. I find my panties—still in one piece, thank goodness—on the floor and hastily don them. Then I leave the room.
This place is huge. My nose helps me find my way to the kitchen. Braden is sitting at the island drinking coffee and reading something on his iPad, while a woman—his chef, presumably?—stands at the stove frying bacon and eggs.
And I’m wearing nothing but black panties and one of Braden’s shirts. Since it’s doubtful a hole will open up and swallow me to save me this embarrassment, I clear my throat softly.
Braden turns toward me. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
“Coffee?”
“Absolutely. Thank you.” I walk in and take a seat next to Braden.
The woman at the stove turns. She’s young and gorgeous, with brown hair and eyes. “Good morning. I’m Marilyn.”
“Hi,” I squeak out.
“How do you take your coffee?” she asks.
“Black.”
A moment later, a cup of steaming black coffee slides in front of me.
Braden turns to me. “Hungry?”
“No. I’m good.”
“Are you sure? Marilyn always makes enough to feed a small army.”
“That’s because you have the appetite of a small army.” Marilyn smiles and sets a full plate of bacon, eggs, and toast in front of Braden. “Sure I can’t get you anything?”
“No.” Seriously, if I try to eat right now, I’ll puke.
This is the part I’m really bad at—the small talk after something intimate. I’ve never known quite what to say the morning after, and this time it’s worse because first, I’m starting to really like Braden, and second, there’s another person in the room—who knows Braden and I fucked all night long.
I take a sip of coffee and burn my tongue. I set the cup down quickly and spill a few drops on the marble counter. “Sorry,” I mumble.
“Not a problem.” Marilyn wipes up my mess with a flourish.
Braden places his iPad on the counter. “Could you excuse us for a few minutes, Marilyn?”
“Sure, Mr. Black. Just buzz if you need me.” She exits the kitchen.
He turns to me. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re acting strange. Are you uncomfortable here?”
“No. Not exactly.”
“You’re the one who wanted to stay. To leave on your own terms.”
I nod. “Yes.”
“Okay. Just so we’re both on the same page. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. I have a few hours of work to do.”
“Oh. Okay. I should check in with work, too.” I take another sip of coffee, being more careful this time. “Braden?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m going to need something to wear home.”
His lips curve up slightly. Just slightly, but I’ll take it. “Of course. Find out where Tessa got the black dress, and I’ll have it replaced. You can wear the cardigan I gave you last night.”
“Okay… What about pants?”
He nearly smiles again. “I guess I didn’t leave your dress in working condition as a skirt.”
“No, you didn’t.”
He stands. “I’ll find you something. Next time, bring a change of clothes.”
Next time? A thrill surges through me.
“In fact,” he says, “bring over several things. Or if you want to leave me your sizes, I’ll have some stuff delivered.”
He wants to buy me clothes? “That’s okay. I have plenty. I can bring some over.”
“Good,” he says, his voice going darker, “because I plan to destroy a lot of them.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“I’m still wearing his sweatpants and shirt,” I tell Tessa on the phone once I’m home. I turn the phone to speaker and hug myself. Wearing his clothes makes me feel…close to him, but it’s more than that. It’s like he let me take part of him home with me. “I can’t bring myself to take them off.”