Chapter Nineteen

Nina

He crossed the line. I realize it when I wake up to Brayden's bare chest against my cheek, his arms resting protectively around my shoulders, and his … Oh my … his rather large cock pressing against my stomach.

I should move. I know I should. But I don't. Instead, I relish how hard he is as I inhale his musky scent. Fucking hell, he smells good. There are the remnants of last night, a hint of tequila emanating from both our pores. But there's also the earthy scent of him, a smell that's like wind-rustled trees and rain on pavement, mixed with sweat and the sweet tang of his body odor, which gives me a heady feeling every time I inhale. I could bottle him up, make him my air, and dissolve into his chest.

His body rises and falls against mine with each breath, and I remain as still as possible so I don't break the spell. It occurs to me that this is the first time I've ever done this. I've never slept with a man—like, physically fallen asleep. I've fucked them, and they've fucked me; but this is a level of intimacy I've never experienced in my life.

But he's my cousin's fiancé.

This is wrong. I know this is wrong. In five days, we'll leave this place. He'll go back to her, and I'll go home alone, and it's likely we'll never speak of this again. If he stays with her, there's a chance he'll fire me from the ranch. I mean, why would he let me stay when my presence could ruin everything?

But in this moment, I can't care. I won't. Whatever is happening between Brayden and me, it's been brewing for a while. Since that night he saved me from those assholes. Since I was a broken girl and wrote a list of qualities that belong to him.

Brayden inhales quickly, shifting in a way that lets me know he's waking up. I hold my breath, unsure what he'll do when he realizes how close we are, how his cock is still pressing against my belly.

His breathing slows, but his arms move slightly. I feel his head move, and I lift my eyes to meet his. He blinks slow, licks his lips. Then a small smile tugs at his mouth.

"Good morning," he says. There's a slight twitch against my belly, and I try not to laugh as I see the realization cross his expression. He pulls away, and I already miss his warmth. "Guess I'm glad to see you," he laughs. He pulls back the covers and sits on the edge, groaning as gravity catches up with him. "Fuck, how much did we drink last night?"

I actually feel fine this morning. Even last night when we kissed, I'd been sloshed, but completely aware of what was happening. Still, I'm glad he didn't follow through. Not while we were drinking. If he kisses me again, I want to be sober as fuck so I can remember everything.

Brayden goes to the bathroom while I remain in bed. It's weird listening to him pee. No, not weird. It's like we've done this a million times, like I wake up with him every morning and go to bed with him every night. Like we could blow off this whole day and just stay in bed, watching the ocean from our corner room.

He re-emerges but hesitates at the threshold. "We have a full plate today," he finally says, crossing the room and sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed. I know what he's doing—completely pretending like this heat between us doesn't exist. I have a choice; I could play along, shifting back into this game of platonic pretend we've been playing, or I could stall and see where this leads.

"How many hours until we need to be out of here?" I ask. He raises an eyebrow, but looks over my shoulder at the clock on the nightstand.

"We have a few hours," he says.

"Good." I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and get up. I can feel his eyes on my ass while I move to the coffee pot. "Then we have time to enjoy a slow cup of coffee before we start talking schedules and shit."

He chuckles, settling back into bed as I set up the coffee before I relieve myself in the bathroom. After, with two steaming cups in hand, I head back to the bed and hand him his.

"Coffee in bed," he murmurs. "Do you make house calls?"

"I won't even answer that," I tease, letting the insinuation rest between us. Because I'd give him coffee in bed every morning just for the pleasure of waking up to him.

We sip in the quiet of the room, the golden rays of sunlight casting a hazy glow over the room.

"About last night," he finally says.

I take a deep breath, then another sip of coffee as scenes from last night unfold in my mind. His tongue in my mouth. His lips on my breast. His hands everywhere, everywhere, everywhere. The sheer intoxication of him, so much more than a dozen shots of tequila. How I could get drunk on him all night long, and never grow tired.

"What about it?" I ask. I shift my gaze to him and suddenly feel the heat from his stare—the way his eyes search me, the unasked question resting on his lips. "You mean, now that it's morning, do I feel any regret?"

He sets his cup down and turns to face me. I put my cup down too, shifting my body so I'm looking at him.

"Brayden, when it comes to you, I only have one regret. And it's not about kissing you last night."

He breathes in, closes his eyes, and I can see the war going on inside him. But I'm too selfish to help him make the right decision. The proper one. The only one we should make.

"What's your regret?"

"I think you know," I say. He says nothing, and I know he wants the words aloud. "That I didn't meet you first," I whisper. My heartbeat rushes to full crescendo in my ears, and I swallow my panic at finally admitting how I feel. "Do you have any regrets?" I ask.

He looks at me for the longest time. I can feel the electricity pulsing in my veins, the magnetic pull I'm losing a battle against.

"I should," he says. "Especially about what I want to do to you, but I don't." Then he pushes forward. I don't move, letting his lips find mine. He kisses me. Tentatively. Seeking. Verifying if the door is open. I part my lips, let him inside, melt into the groan that vibrates from his chest.

"Fuck Nina, you make me feel…" He kisses me again, shifting his body so that he's on top of me. His hand finds my ass, and I lift my hips so that my groin brushes against the cloth covering his cock. He groans again. "So out of control. Just completely blitzed," he says. "We shouldn't…"

"Not now." If he so much as mentions her name, or even refers to her at all, I'll die. I'll realize what we're doing, and right now, I just want to pretend we're on the right side of any moral line, that there are no consequences to our actions. So I kiss him, meeting the urgency of his mouth as my hands claw at his skin. "It's just you and me, okay?"

His kiss deepens, and he presses himself to me in a way that makes me breathless. The intoxication of last night is nothing compared to the way my body is spinning now.

"Just you and me," he agrees, then lifts my shirt above my head. The feel of my naked skin against his is exquisite, like slipping into a warm bath. He's warm and hard and soft all at once. I can't stop touching him, feeling every way his body dips and folds, the way his muscles ripple while he straddles me, the way his mouth tastes like something I could live on.

As much as I want this to last all morning, I feel the urgency of impatience. It's a relief when he reaches over to his side, pulling out a foil packet.

"This wasn't planned," he says, even as he rips the condom wrapper open. "But I'm sure glad I have this anyway."

As am I, especially as he lowers his boxers and I get a look at the full length of him. Fuck, he's beautiful. Long and thick, his swollen head just there for the taking. I lick my lips, aching to taste him. He must see my intentions, because he places a gentle but firm hand on my shoulder.

"I'd love nothing more than your lips wrapped around my cock. But if I don't feel myself inside you, I'm going to explode."

I watch him roll the condom on, the need inside me so strong just to see his hand stroke over his beautiful cock. Then he lifts my hips, his fingers tugging the hem of my panties. With an excruciatingly slow movement, he eases them down, his breath catching as his eyes land on my sex. He starts to dip his head, and this time I'm the one to catch him.

"Fuck me, Brayden. "

The way his eyes turn up, his mouth twisting into a wicked grin, I completely melt. Then he defies me, ducking between my legs.

"Holy hell," I breathe as his mouth lands on me, his tongue spreading me apart before licking my center. He finds my clit and traces circles around the hood, and the whole entire room disappears as I lose myself to the magic of his mouth. The pressure gradually mounts, and I claw at the sheets for something to hang on to. He clamps his mouth around my clit, and I erupt. My cries fill the room as I writhe under him. He expertly hangs on, flicking his gentle tongue while he sucks me into oblivion, and just when I think I can't handle anymore, he releases me. I'm still coming down as he climbs over my body, pulling my legs up and apart so that they rest on his shoulders.

"Is this okay?" he asks, lining himself up to me. I nod, words escaping me as my breath comes out in pants. I need him inside me like my lungs need air. "I'll be gentle," he murmurs, nudging at my entrance.

"Don't be," I moan, then cry out as he pushes in. He fills me completely, stretching me to the hilt as his hips still over mine.

"Still okay?" he asks.

"Fuck yes," I breathe.

Then he moves, spearing me over and over with long strokes as his mouth claims my screams. He's deliberate in the way he grinds me, lifting my hips so that I completely receive the fullness of him. I come undone, unable to make sense of time or place or anything else but his cock sliding in and out of me with precision.

But he isn't even close to done. Once my heart slows to normal, I open my eyes, and there he is, looking at me with the softest of smiles.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, brushing a sweaty strand of hair off my forehead. His hand smooths over my face before caressing my neck. His mouth follows, leaving a trail of kisses across my damp skin. "I could taste you forever," he whispers against me, his hands continuing their worship as I soak up the pleasure of his touch. But I want more. I want him.

"My turn."

He doesn't argue, just licks his lips as I maneuver myself on top of him, then take a moment to take him in. His tan skin is smooth, save for the small splay of hair that covers his chest and travels down to his beautiful dick. I let my fingers explore the gorgeous trail, winding curls between my fingers as I feel his hard abs underneath. I trace the V of his muscles just above his hips, followed by slowly unrolling the condom from his cock, and tossing it in the garbage. I lower myself to taste the delicious line, lifting my eyes to meet his as I drag my tongue over the length of his shaft.

"Jesus, Nina." He throws his head back as I take him in my mouth, savoring the smells and taste of our combined juices. This is us. This is perfection. This is everything it's supposed to be.

I tease him with gentle strokes, relishing in the way he submits to me as I work him with my mouth. His hands are tangled in my hair, but the movement is all me. There's no forcing, only giving—and I'm ready to give him everything.

"I need you," he finally rasps out. I run my tongue along the underside of his shaft, but then continue up the ridges of his belly, between the soft fur of his chest. He hands me another condom and I take my time rolling it on, stroking him as I do while he groans into the stillness of the room. Finally I straddle him, his cock straining at my entrance.

"Then have me," I say, then push down. He groans, capturing my hips as I roll over him. My thighs clench as I ride him, his hands helping me grind even harder. I feel the waves of passion wash over me, the friction rubbing against my clit while my core throbs around him. I can't get enough of this man. I capture his mouth, our taste still on my tongue. He lets go of my hips, cradling my head as he deepens our kiss. He rolls me on my back, still connected inside me.

"I could stay inside you all morning," he says against my mouth. "But I don't think I can hold out that long."

"Then come inside me," I beg. "I want to feel every part of you."

It's all I need to say. He pushes inside me, quickening his pace as he grips my ass to keep me close. I feel the way he swells, and I cry out when he bites down on my neck. Then he's exploding, grunting against me as I come with him. My whole body is drenched in sweat—my sweat, his sweat. My thighs are slick with my essence. He remains inside me while we recover, his rapid breathing eventually slowing as he sinks on to my body. Then he slides out, slipping off the condom as we keep our eyes locked on each other.

It's the closest I've ever felt to love, at least the romantic kind. I know it's not. It can't be. But I've never felt so connected to anyone in all my life more than I do now, staring into his beautiful coffee eyes while his fingers explore the features of my face.

"That was…" He laughs, shaking his head. "I don't even have words for what that was," he finally gets out.

"It was a long time coming," I say. He chuckles again, then nods.

"It truly was."