Page 15 of Rose and the Grouch Next Door

"Or let go a lot," Lila laughs as she pulls a beer. “Just be careful, Rose. Men like him... when they blow, it ain't pretty.”

"Or maybe it'll be exactly what we both need," I whisper, more to myself than to her, a flush creeping up my cheeks at the thought.

"Girl, when he finally realizes what he's missing..." Lila shakes her head, leaving the sentence hanging as she moves to tend to another customer.

Maybe it's true, maybe I am playing with fire. But as I watch Braxton from across the room, every cell in my body tells me it’s worth the burn.

Minutes later, I'm delivering beers for a group of middle-aged men blowing off steam after a day of fishing. Their eyes are bold as they call me over. "Sweetheart, bring some of that Southern charm this way!" one yells, tipping his cap.

"Y'all behave," I tease, my drawl thick, while I deliver another round with a smile. But as I spin away, I feel a grip firmly clasp my upper arm, yanking me towards the shadowed stairwell. My breath catches in fear.

"Enough, Rose." The voice is gravel wrapped in velvet, unmistakably Braxton, and it sends shivers down my spine. Before I can summon a sassy retort, he's got me pinned against the wall, his body towering over me, hard against mine.

"Braxton!" I gasp, but it's not a protest. It's anticipation. "What are you… "

"Be quiet," he growls low, his breath hot on my neck, his hands grasp both of mine, pinning them above my head, "I've watched you bat those pretty eyes at every fucker who walks through that door. No more."

"Is that so?" I challenge, though the fluttering in my belly betrays how much I want him.

"Damn right," he asserts, and then his mouth crashes down on mine. It’s a kiss that stakes a claim, fierce and unyielding. One hand continues to pin mine as his other clasps my throat in ownership, igniting desires I didn’t know I had. I’ve been kissed by a gentle Braxton, but this Braxton is different. He’s more controlling.

And I’m down for it. Oh, holy mackerel.I'm drowning in the sensation, lost to the world.

He tears his mouth away to whisper in my ear. “Baby girl, you are mine,” he says in a fierce, lust-filled voice. “It may have taken me a bit to figure it out, but make no mistake … You. Are. Mine.” He punctuates his statement with a bite to the lobe of my ear. Goosebumps form from the gesture.

He bit me?I groan with my need for this man.Gah… I’m loving this animalistic Braxton that’s come out to play tonight.

“What makes you think I’m still interested?” I taunt him, feeling bratty, but arching my neck to allow him more access; my eyes closing in dreamy desire.

“Oh,” he says with a low, throaty laugh, “You’re interested alright because you know not one of those pricks or college frat boys you flirt with every night can satisfy you, Primrose.”

He presses his hard length against my stomach to make his point, and I realize I’m grinding my denim clad core against his thigh, my clit seeking relief for the need he’s created inside me. With a few growly words and his possessive touch, Braxton has made me melt.

And that pisses me off.Why does he have this power over me?

I feel his warmth leave me and I’m sliding off his thigh, my feet once again touching the floor. Braxton is kissing a trail down my neck, gliding his hands through my hair, tilting my head to the side so he can lick and suck on the sensitive spot where my neck and shoulder meet, surely leaving marks on my skin.

My hands free to roam, I reach for the hem of his shirt, wanting to feel his heat, feel his bare skin as I skim my hands across his rippled abs. He draws in air, letting me know I have the power to make him as breathless as he makes me. Feeling the soft hair trailing below his belt, I reach my slender hand inside, past the cotton of his briefs and grasp his hard, velvet erection.

I’ve never done such a thing, never been so bold, and I’m not sure what it is I’m doing, but he seems to enjoy it. I squeeze, grazing my thumb over the tip, feeling the moisture gathered there. Braxton is groaning, and I’m feeling heady from the power I have over him. So caught up in the moment, I sink to my knees, undoing his belt, and drawing his zipper down, exposing him to my gaze. Lingering, I’m wide-eyed and fascinated by his hard, long thickness. Never have I wanted to taste something so desperately. The need to taste him, to make him crazy with need is consuming me.

I lick the underside of him and run my tongue down the throbbing vein down to the root. I lightly suck on the smooth head, loving the salty taste of him

“Rose, what are you doing?” He asks, voice rough with desire. He’s caressing the top of my head and grasping my ponytail. I notice he doesn’t tell me to stop. Instead, he seems to be more than okay with my exploration. “Do you like the idea someone could walk in on us? See you sucking my cock like the naughty girl you are?”

Nodding my head, I realize the idea of getting caught in the darkened stairwell is a turn on. Once again, I’m surprised at the things I’m learning about myself and my needs.

I’ll happily play his naughty school girl.

Braxton allows me to alternate between licking him and sucking the head of his length. I’m having to grasp his muscled thighs for balance.

He throws his head back, tightening his grasp on my head and growling, “I’m going to come down your throat, baby girl. Be ready.”

Once again, I nod, eagerly swallowing as he grunts and thrusts deep, holding my head steady in his grasp.

"Uh... excuse me, where's the …"

The intrusion is like a bucket of ice water. A bleary-eyed drunk stumbles upon us, his face flushed from the alcohol.

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