“Do yourself a favor, then. Don’t ever start reading them. It will slowly invade your mind, and it’s not worth it. No one gives the Babbler any credence.”
“Then why did Claire bring it straight to you?”
“I have to keep up with what the rags are saying about me. Doesn’t mean I give it any value whatsoever.”
“Then why—”
“If anything is said that could affect business, I have to be aware and file the necessary defamation lawsuits.”
“Well, I want to know who this source is.”
“Journalists don’t have to reveal their sources.”
“This isn’t journalism, Braden. It’s gossip. Fabricated gossip.”
“Potato, po-tah-to, as far as the courts are concerned. Besides, look at the facts. We are dating. We did sit together at the MADD event. We are going to the Opera Guild Gala. And we’ve pretty much been inseparable since we met.”
“Except they make me sound like a lovesick schoolgirl who’s after Addie’s job. She’s going to have a field day with this.”
“Maybe she won’t see it,” he says.
I laugh. Seriously laugh, because what Braden just said is funny in a ridiculous way. “Addie won’t see it? The woman thrives on attention. She googles her name all the time. How will she not see it?”
He doesn’t reply.
“I’m nothing like Addison,” I say indignantly.
“If you were anything like Addison, do you think I’d have the slightest interest in you?”
“Honestly? I don’t know, Braden, because you won’t tell me what happened between you two.”
“Skye, you do try my patience.” He stands, pulls me out of my chair, and into his body.
I part my lips.
“Fuck, you’re so sexy.” He kisses me. Hard.
In an instant, I forget about the Babbler, about the source, about Addie and Braden and whatever happened all those years ago.
I know only his lips sliding against mine, his tongue probing between them, his vibrating groan humming into me. My nipples are hard and taut, aching to be freed from their confinement. His erection pushes into my belly.
I want him.
Here, in his office, I want him.
He breaks the kiss and inhales deeply. “God, what you do to me.” He whips his tie off his neck and fingers the fabric.
I gasp sharply.
“Silk isn’t the best for binding,” he says. “The knots are sometimes too tight, which can be a problem if I need to untie you quickly.”
I lift my eyebrows, my heart pounding. Binding? Me? In his office?
“However, it’s all I have at the moment.” He unbuttons his shirt and removes it. He stands in a white tank.
And God, is he sexy.
I have no idea what he has in mind. I know only one thing.
Whatever it is, I’ll do it.
Chapter Forty-Six
“Take off your clothes, Skye.”
I eye the door.
“No, it’s not locked,” Braden says.
I part my lips, my whole body tingling.
“No one will interrupt us. They know the penalty for entering without knocking.”
Arousal billows through me; pinging flows straight to my clit. The door isn’t locked, and somehow, that excites me.
“I’ve never bound your wrists before,” he says.
I shake my head.
“Are you ready?”
Am I? I have no idea, which doesn’t explain why I nod.
I want whatever he wants, which is unbelievable but no less true.
“Take off your clothes, Skye,” he says again.
I tremble as I obey and then stand naked, in full view of anyone who might be scaling the building. What if the window washers are working today?
“Now hold your wrists out. Together.”
I do, and he wraps his tie tightly around them and secures it with a knot I don’t recognize. Not that I’d recognize any kind of knot.
I gape at him. His shoulders are tan and magnificent, all his corded muscles visible beneath the tank. I long to reach forward and touch him, skim my fingertips along his warm flesh, but I don’t dare move.
My wrists are bound. I can still walk, I can still touch, but something in me makes me remain still until Braden tells me where to go next.
“You look beautiful, Skye.”
I smile nervously.
“Bound for my pleasure,” he says.
My flesh tingles as he regards me, as if his eyes are lasers that tantalize me. I don’t know what he’s going to do, and that both frightens and excites me.
And that unlocked door…
“Walk to the window, Skye, and face it. Hands above your head.”
I’m so naked. So exposed. But I obey, pressing my bare breasts against the glass, my bound wrists resting on the pane above me.
Braden’s belt clinks. Then his zipper.
He’s behind me, pushing into me. He grasps my bound wrists and holds them clamped against the window. “Don’t move,” he whispers against my ear.
Then, in one quick thrust, he’s inside me.
I can’t help it. I cry out.
“That’s it, baby,” he says. “Take it. Take all of me.”
He pulls out and pushes back in.
My cheek and breasts are crushed against the glass. Braden’s hand stays clamped onto my bound wrists, rendering me immobile.
With his other hand, he grips my hip as he fucks me. “Good girl. Don’t move. Let me take what’s mine.”