“But then—”
“Skye, show them you know what you’re worth. They’re not getting just Braden Black’s girlfriend with you. They’re getting an ace photographer, someone who can make their product look amazing. They know that, and if they don’t, they will soon.”
“Wait a minute,” I say, my mind working overtime. “You didn’t…”
“Of course not. I had nothing to do with them calling you. It may surprise you to know that I don’t have time to call cosmetics companies and ask them to hire my girlfriend.”
I nod. It sounds really ridiculous when he says it.
“Never be afraid to turn down the first offer. You’re new at this, so they know they can lowball you.”
Everything he says makes perfect sense. “You really are brilliant.”
“I’m no more brilliant than the next guy,” he counters. “I just know what my strengths are, and I know what they’re worth.”
“Braden…”
“Yeah?”
“Addison thinks you’re behind all this, that you’re trying to make me into an influencer and destroy her in the process.”
He takes a drink. “That’s what she said?”
“Yeah.”
“And you believe her?”
“No.” I shake my head vehemently. “Of course not.”
He doesn’t reply right away. Odd. Could there be something to Addie’s theory?
Finally, he speaks, after draining the rest of his Wild Turkey. “Addison is a troubled woman.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I think you know.”
“No, I really don’t.”
“Don’t you? You’ve been working with her for more than a year. Isn’t it clear that she has to be the center of attention? And when she’s not, she sprouts claws?”
My mind races back to my conversation with Tessa. According to Betsy, Addie pursued Braden relentlessly, to the point of stalking him, eleven years ago. Classic Addie, wanting Braden’s attention and…doing what when she didn’t get it?
Neither Addison nor Braden will speak of that time.
Why?
“I see your point,” I say. “Can you tell me more about her?”
He pours himself another Wild Turkey. “Nice try.”
“I don’t understand. Why won’t you talk about your time with Addison? You were both young. Surely it couldn’t have been that horrible.”
“‘Horrible’ is too tame a word.”
I swallow, my skin turning icy. What went on during that summer, and why won’t they talk about it?
Jealousy rears its ugly green head, and though I know better, I blurt out, “How was she in bed?”
He stays silent.
“Tell me, Braden. Please.”
“Why do you care?”
“I just…do.”
“For God’s sake, Skye. We were kids. Neither one of us knew what the hell we were doing.”
“So you did take her virginity.”
“Who said that?”
I don’t answer. I can’t violate Tessa’s and Betsy’s trust.
He advances toward me, and I quake before him.
“Why does any of this matter to you? Do you want to know if she was better in bed than you are?”
Yes. But I don’t say it.
“Do you want to know about all my previous lovers? There are a lot of them, and I won’t apologize for anything I did in the past.”
I tremble without meaning to. “I’m not asking you to.”
“Then exactly what are you asking, Skye?”
“I…don’t know.”
“I’ll tell you what you’re asking. You want to know how you compare to Addie, to everyone I’ve slept with.” He takes a long drink of his bourbon. “I’ll tell you only this. I’ve never cut a business trip short for any woman. Never…until now.”
Heat courses through me, and my clit hardens and throbs.
He comes forward until only inches separate us, but he doesn’t touch me. “You challenge me. You perplex me. And damn it, Skye, you fucking infuriate me. You want to know how I feel about Addison Ames? Honestly?”
I nod shakily.
“I’m grateful.”
“G-Grateful? Why?”
“If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t know you.”
I choke back a tear of joy. “Braden, I—”
“Shut the fuck up.” His lips slam down on mine.
I open instantly and accept his devouring tongue. How long have I been here? This is our first kiss of the night. He denied me before, and now I ache for this forceful meeting of our mouths.
I spread my legs, straddle his hard thigh, and grind against him, easing the ache in my clit. Only it makes me want more. More kisses, his tongue on my nipples and between my legs, that orgasm he denied me earlier.
Braden finally breaks the kiss, turns me around against the kitchen island, and brushes my slacks and panties down my hips.
“Braden… Christopher. And Annika.”
“This is my house, not theirs.”
“But…”
“Quiet!” he roars.
Then his dick is inside me, pressing like a steam engine between my closed thighs and into my tight channel.
I cry out without meaning to.
He grabs my hands and places them flat on the marble countertop. “Don’t move,” he commands.
He thrusts into me again and again, the cold marble biting into my belly with each angry thrust. My clit isn’t getting any stimulation except the indirect pulling from Braden’s forceful plunges.
I want more. So much more.
But I can’t move. He told me not to move.