CHAPTER TEN

W illow changed into a third outfit—or was it forth?—and finally landed on her emerald-green dress.

She loved the ballet. It had been years since she’d been, and had spent far too much time during her day looking up reviews and images of the show.

A quick spray of perfume, a giddy twirl in the mirror, and she went into the kitchen.

It had been radio silence all day from Brayden. After his FaceTime call this morning, she had wondered if he was going to be one of those stalker boyfriends.

However, he wasn’t her boyfriend.

Boyfriend for a week.

Lover for a week?

Whatever she called him, he filled her tummy with butterflies, like the seven million having a dance party in there right now.

Just the thought of opening the door to see the gorgeous silver-eyed Adonis standing there sent shivers down her spine. The sudden knock made her jump, and her heart missed a beat.

“Willow?” he called out loudly, sounding panicked. She opened the door and he stepped in, grabbing her arms. “What’s wrong?”

Startled, she looked up at him. “Nothing, why?”

He scanned her face and body.

“What?” she repeated just as his lips landed on hers. He pulled her against him. God, he felt incredible. She steadied herself, gripping his shoulders and relaxing, melting into his powerful hold. She moaned, the kind you let out without meaning to when you sank into a hot bath.

He released her lips and looked longingly at her. “Yeah, that.” Taking a step further into the house, he closed the door.

“Why did you think something was wrong?”

Brayden shook his head and waved her off. “My bad. I thought I heard something. So, are you ready? My God, you look beautiful.”

She smiled as warmth hit her cheeks. They did that every time he complimented her. Hand in the small of her back, he guided her outside.

He’d hired a limousine for the evening. Willow climbed in the back and accepted the glass of champagne Brayden had poured. While she took a sip, he ran a hand up her thigh, into dangerous territory.

She turned to look at him, her eyes hooding. He dipped his head and kissed her long and passionately.

“I missed you today,” he said, voice low.

Her hand landed on his six-pack, and she glanced at his lap before looking back up at him. Silver dilated eyes captured hers, unreadable in the moment.

She grinned, and he suddenly grabbed her hand. “Hey, I wasn’t going to do anything.”

“Perhaps not, but if you did, we’d miss the ballet,” he said gruffly. “I have no control around you.”

She glanced down at her hand and raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know; you’re doing pretty well.”

He moved her hand away from his body and sighed. “Only because I promised you more than just sex. If I had my way, my face would be between your legs, and you’d be coated in this champagne.”

Her body flushed instantly with desire, moisture pooling between her legs. She wanted him; she had wanted him all day. Now the thought of him licking the golden bubbles from her pussy tipped her over the edge. She needed it like her next breath. In fact, she couldn’t breathe.

Mouth open, she licked her lips and looked longingly at his strong jaw, dark bristles, and full red lips.

“Breathe, baby.” He took her chin. “I’ll make sure you’re pleasured tonight. First, we see the ballet.”

The limousine pulled up outside the venue as he kissed her harshly. She didn’t want to leave his arms; she needed him now. He was like a drug. Her body craved his touch, his ability to coax the delicious pleasure from her core.

“I need...”

“I have a surprise for you. Come.” Brayden held out his hand, guiding her into the building and along a hallway. In her haze of lust, she suddenly found herself in a private box looking down onto a most beautiful stage.

“Push this button here if you’d like service, sir.”

“Thank you. That’s all for now,” Brayden said as he stood looking at her, not taking his eyes off her.

Willow turned and looked around their box. There were four seats at the front, elevated on platforms, for viewing the ballet. Around them were two sofas and a small table with another bottle of champagne and two flutes.

Brayden stepped up to her and gripped her hips. “We have fifteen minutes before the show starts.” The music was already loud around them. “You decide how we use them, Willow.”

Brayden poured them glasses of champagne and waited patiently for her to decide. Willow took in his strong, solid frame, and peered out toward the theater. She felt like she was in a fog.

Fifteen minutes? Idle conversation or...

She dropped her bag onto the table, sat down on the sofa, and slipped off her panties. Brayden silently watched her, his eyes dark with desire as he took sips of champagne.

“Lift your dress around your waist and spread your legs,” he commanded.

Feeling deliciously naughty, she did as he asked. He tipped his glass to his lips again and adjusted his pants.

“Touch yourself, Willow.”

A groan slipped from her lips. She ran her fingers over her thigh and down over the wet flesh. She tried to coax him to her with her eyes, but he simply stood there watching her, those silver eyes burning.

Her finger circled her clit, the pleasure blazing from her body. Willow sucked in a breath as he kneeled in front of her and grabbed one of her legs, nudging it wider, and gently poured the golden liquid over her. Leaning in, he ran his tongue along her inner thigh, gripping her hips to pull her closer to his face.

As he plunged his tongue through her folds, sucking and flicking her clit with his thumb, she whimpered. “OhGodohGod, fuuuck.”

“Wait, Willow. You’ll come when I tell you.”

Two fingers pressed inside her as she fisted Brayden’s dark curls, his rough face rubbing on the inside of her legs. Those fingers fucked her as he sucked her clit, his tongue doing magical things to her most sensitive area.

She couldn’t last much longer.

“Now, baby.”

Suddenly her mind went blank, and ecstasy flowed through every cell in her body, stars filling her eyes. She swallowed her scream as his mouth covered hers, the taste of champagne and her juices on his lips extending her pleasure.

A FEW HOURS LATER, the ballet finished, and they walked through the glamorous foyer of the theater. Willow felt like she was in a dream as Brayden held her close, his hand in the small of her back.

The bulk and height of his body in that black suit and crisp white shirt had women staring openly and men shooting glances. He looked down and winked at her. Oh yeah, he was fully aware of the attention, and looked completely comfortable. What he didn’t do was revel in it. His fingers pressed into her back and gently squeezed as if to say I’m with you, and you are mine.

Her mind flicked back in time to a time when a different man stood beside her. Always a foot away, never completely committing to being with her, they could have appeared as friends or siblings to any onlooker, and that was just how Mike liked it. Despite living together for over two years, he had kept his options open.

Things had been different when Willow decided to play by the same rules. She had formed a girls’ evening every two weeks, going out with friends to parties or a local bar. He hadn’t liked it and had demanded she stop. She’d mistaken his interest and control for affection, both of which vanished quickly once the social group disbanded.

Mike had also stubbornly refused to take their relationship to the next level, so when her friends started having babies and getting engaged, she had become more and more depressed, until one day, her friend Brianna had met her for lunch at work and had one of those tough love conversations with her.

“’Low, you know I love you, and Mike’s a pretty decent guy,” she’d said. “But I think you are after different things.”

“He’ll come around,” she’d replied, hating herself for being that girl.

Three weeks later, at a house party, she’d gone in search of her handbag in one of the bedrooms and found Mike with his dick inside some redhead. She’d fled in tears, and once home, she had packed his bags and thrown them onto the lawn.

He hadn’t come home.

Willow had sat on the shower floor crying for hours. She knew it was over and could never take him back. Strong instincts told her this wasn’t the first time he’d cheated. In hindsight, there had been signs. His work Christmas party and the overly friendly office girl, the regular evening work meetings, the long text conversations he’d have with his friends where he’d smirk and get irritated when asked who he was talking to.

In her heart, she knew he hadn’t been the one, but she’d fallen into the trap many women her age had: an expectation to quickly find a man, settle down, and reproduce before it was “too late.” Better two years than ten , she figured the next morning when she watched him pick his clothes off the lawn.

Fortunately, Willow had owned the majority share of the house, so within three months, she’d bought him out.

Shaking her head to clear the memories, she realized it had been at least two years since she’d subconsciously decided to give up on men. Which was why this arrangement with Brayden suited her. She got to enjoy the sexual intimate delights with a drop-dead sexy man, but there were no expectations and no risk of getting hurt.

Aware of her every move, Brayden ran his hand over her hip and nudged her closer. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

Before she could answer, an irritating voice called from across the alcove. “Willow!”

She tensed. Oh no, no, no. She painted on her best fake smile as Debbie Parkerson strutted over with her husband, Henry, in tow.

The irritating couple just loved to gossip and outshine other people, yet because of their wealth, they always appeared at every show and party in town. Henry worked for Google and Debbie was an interior decorator to the rich and famous.

“Oh, hi,” she forced out as Brayden snorted.

“Look at you! You’re just glowing. Oh my, is this Prada?” The woman eyed her dress and glanced at Brayden coyly. She wasn’t interested in the dress in the slightest, label aside. In fact, if Willow hadn’t been with Brayden, the woman would’ve snubbed her.

Gritting her teeth, she made a quick introduction. “Brayden, these are Debbie and Henry Parkerson.”

Henry held out his hand. “Henry.”

The two men shook hands as Debbie ran her eyes over Brayden’s body. Willow wanted to slap the woman.

“Lovely to meet you,” Debbie drawled, flashing her pearly whites and holding out her manicured hand. Bless his beating heart, Brayden simply shook it and turned to Willow, pulling her tighter against him.

“Did you enjoy the ballet?” he asked.

“Yes, it was just lovely. We’re looking forward to seeing the Russian Ballet in a few weeks, aren’t we, darling?” She barely glanced at her husband before leaning in and whispering, “I get tickets from my high-profile clients, you see. They’re famous.”

“How nice,” Willow said, glancing about for an excuse to leave.

“I didn’t see you inside. We were in the front row. Were you further back?” The snide comment was obviously condescending.

Brayden leaned forward a little as if to whisper, but he didn’t. “No. We were in a box.”

Willow bit her lip to stop from laughing as Debbie’s mouth fell open then shut, her lips pressed together. A moment later she composed herself, that sharp, calculating mind working fast. Her eyes narrowed, and she inspected Brayden.

“Well, you seem like a well-connected man. How interesting.”

“Not at all. I own it,” Brayden said.

Now Willow’s lips parted in surprise. Before anyone said anything further, he said goodbye without excuse and led her outside, leaving a gaping Debbie in their wake.

The fresh air hit them as they stepped outside.

“Wow, impressive.” She smiled.

“I figured she wasn’t a genuine friend.” Brayden pulled out his phone. “I didn’t text our driver, so we’ll have to wait a few minutes.”

Willow leaned against his body, soaking up his warmth while he leaned against a pillar, texting.

“No, she’s definitely not a friend. I feel sorry for Henry.”

Putting the phone away, he pulled her into his chest, wrapping her in his powerful arms. He nuzzled into her hair. “Don’t. The guy’s a fool. They’re two peas in a pod; I’ve seen it many times.”

She nodded knowingly.

“Now tell me what you were thinking about before they interrupted us. You were tense.”

She turned to look into his eyes.

“Oh. It was nothing about you.”

“I know, but I’d like you to share.”

Willow didn’t want to tell him what a fool she had been. Having someone cheat on her wasn’t exactly a moment she was proud of.

“Just a flashback to an old life.”

She felt Brayden tense against her. “A man.”

“Yes.”

“Do you still love him?” His voice was taut.

She turned in his arms and smiled. “You ask some heavy questions for a one-week lover.”

He didn’t smile back. Instead, he held her gaze and whispered in a low voice, “Answer the question, Willow.”

She sighed. “No. Definitely not.”

“But?”

“He hurt me. A lot.” She shrugged. “Now, let’s change the subject.”

Brayden cupped the side of her face and kissed her lips gently. “He wasn’t the right man for you. You have a greater destiny.”

She smiled. “Let me guess, this destiny is in your bed tonight?”

His eyes darkened. “In your bed, gorgeous. And yes.”

She frowned and was about to ask why they couldn’t go to his place when they were interrupted again.

“My lord! I didn’t see you there.”

Willow turned just as a man bowed to Brayden.

What on earth?

With his arm, Brayden moved her behind slightly, as if to protect her from the man.

“Oh, hey,” Brayden replied with an unusual lack of enthusiasm as the man looked nervously between them.

“Of course. Sorry to interrupt my...sir.”

He all but scampered away as the limousine pulled up to the sidewalk. Brayden ushered her inside, gave her a small smile, and stared out the window as the vehicle began moving. His hand held her thigh.

“Did I hear him right? Did he just call you my lord ?”