“Braden!” I cry out.
“That’s it, baby. Keep coming. Keep coming. You’re so hot. That’s it. That’s it. Fuck!”
He pushes into me, so deep I can almost feel him in my soul.
I’m still spasming as he releases, and we come in tandem. Perspiration glistens on his forehead.
He stays on top of me, our bodies still joined, for a few timeless moments.
And for those few moments, I feel an utter completeness that is foreign to me.
Too soon, he withdraws and rolls onto his back. I snuggle against his shoulder and kiss his salty flesh.
“That was amazing,” I say.
He doesn’t look at me. “You didn’t beg.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Any other woman would have begged me to stop. I know a woman’s body. I know that many orgasms are a toll, pleasure morphing to almost pain.”
He’s not wrong.
“But you didn’t beg me to stop. I’ll say it again. You’re my Everest, Skye.”
I giggle. “I think you’ve already climbed me.”
He opens his eyes and props his head in his hand to meet my gaze. “This isn’t funny.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“You laughed.”
“I was making a joke. About climbing on top of me?” I force a smile. How can he be upset about something so trivial?
“I get what I want, Skye. Always. No matter how long it takes.”
I swallow.
“You gave in to me once. I want it again.”
My body is so sated and relaxed, but still a tingle rushes toward my core. “And in return?”
“You get me. You’re Braden Black’s girlfriend.”
I bite my lower lip. I can’t deny my desire to be his girlfriend and his lover. I also can’t deny how giving up my control in his penthouse that night resulted in the most exciting sensations I ever experienced.
“I think I’m already Braden Black’s girlfriend,” I say. “Instagram doesn’t lie, after all.”
I expect him to say something snide. Instead—
“All right. What else do you want?”
I answer quickly. “To be the only one. If you become interested in someone else, you have to tell me, and that will be the end. And I don’t want you to use condoms with me.”
He stays quiet for a few seconds that seem like hours.
Then—
“Done.”
Braden falls asleep a few minutes later, and I lie in his arms, my body still ultimately relaxed but my brain working overtime.
I lost a golden opportunity. Why did I ask to be the only one? He already said he couldn’t think of anyone but me and that I made him go wild. When he asked what I wanted in return, I could have said so many other things.
I want to know why you always use condoms even when there’s no reason to.
I want to know about your mother.
I want to know the truth about you and Addison.
I kiss his shoulder and then his neck. I trail my fingers through the scattered black hair on his chest and then travel downward, over his sculpted abs to his nest of perfectly manscaped black curls. His cock lays flaccid. I touch the smooth flesh and let it rest beneath my fingers.
I kiss his shoulder again and release his dick.
“You are my Everest, Braden,” I whisper. “I will figure you out.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
I wake the next morning to a kiss on my forehead. I jerk upward.
Braden is already dressed, his hair damp.
“You took a shower?” I ask.
“Yeah. I’ve never used raspberry shampoo before. I like the fruity smell.” His lips twist into a half smile.
I giggle without meaning to, and then I part my lips and inhale. His natural scent mingled with my shampoo smells like heaven.
“I didn’t want to disturb you,” he continues. “You were out.”
A yawn splits my face. “I can’t believe I didn’t wake up.”
“I can.”
“You can? Why?”
“Multiple orgasms will do that to you.” The words sound so matter-of-fact as he stares at his phone.
“What time is it?”
“Seven.”
“Oh, good. I have plenty of time to get to work.”
Still perusing his phone screen, he turns to me. “Looks like I have to go to New York for a few days.”
“Oh,” I say, trying not to sound melancholy. “Who will take care of Sasha?”
“Annika will. I’m texting her now. I’ll be back Saturday morning. Saturday evening, I’d like you to accompany me to a benefit for the Boston Opera Guild.”
I nod. “Sure. Okay.”
He kisses my lips softly. “Wear the black dress.”
Then he’s gone, almost as if he disappeared in a poof of smoke. I yawn again and wipe the sleep out of my eyes.
Braden spent the night in my bed, in my tiny apartment. He stayed the night.
Now he’s gone with only a chaste kiss. He’s going to New York. New York, where beautiful businesswomen are everywhere. Where gorgeous models are everywhere. Today is Tuesday, and he won’t be back until Saturday morning. That’s four evenings where he’ll no doubt be wining and dining other businesspeople.
Doesn’t he need his “girlfriend” on his arm for the social parts?