Page 60 of Just Say When

Brax was still nudging my foot with his when hesmirked at Jack. I wondered if he would look so calm and smug if I teased him a little.

I decided to find out.

I ran my foot up the inside of his calf.

He looked at me across the table, one dark eyebrow raised.

I took a sip of wine. “When do you have to go back, Jack? How long do we have you?” My toes rubbed Brax’s inner thigh, and he coughed.

“Another four days,” Jack said. “But I’ll be home again for Christmas.”

“Oh, that will be nice,” Mom said. “We missed you last year.”

“National security doesn’t believe in holidays.” Jack laughed like it was a joke, but there was a weary edge to his voice. Maybe tomorrow I’d convince him to spend the day with me. Take a trail ride or something.

But right now I had a husband to torture.

I wedged the ball of my foot against Brax’s bulge. His eyes narrowed on me as he finished his last bit of pie and then he smiled at my mother. “This is excellent, Cat. Thanks for cooking.”

“Anything to get out of dishes,” Mom said brightly. “That was an offer, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am—” Brax broke off in a moan that he quickly covered with a coughing fit as I wiggled my toes.

I was all concern. “Are you okay, dear?”

The look he gave me was downright murderous. “Wonderful,” he clipped.

Jack stood and started gathering the empty dishes. “I’ll help clean up.”

It took a moment longer and a few deep breaths before Brax slowly got to his feet.

“You’ll pay for that, hellion,” he warned quietly, as he joined me at the sink.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said blithely. “I am a perfect lady.”

With the dishes done, Mom asked Brax and Jack to bring in some firewood and I took the opportunity to use the bathroom. After doing my business and washing my hands, I opened the door only to be greeted by Brax’s scowling face.

“What are you—” That was as far as I got before he put a hand to my belly and nudged me back into the cramped bathroom, kicking the door shut behind us and locking it. “Brax!”

“Take a good look at yourself, hellion.” He turned me by the shoulders to face the mirror over the sink. “Does that look like the face of a perfect lady?”

I smiled sweetly at our reflection. “It sure does.”

“Really? Because I think it’s the face of a brat.” Behind me, his eyes on mine in the mirror, he traced the line of my jaw with his thumb. “You know what happens to brats, don’t you?”

I could barely think straight with his voice rumblingin my ear and his dick hardening against my ass. “What?” I asked.

“They get exactly what they deserve.”

Dear god, I hope so.

My breath stuttered as he flicked open the snap of my jeans and pulled down the zipper with excruciating slowness. I spasmed as he dragged a finger across my lower belly, following the elastic of my underwear.

“I wonder if you’re wet,” he mused. “You were so mean to me at dinner.”

He didn’t wait for me to answer, which was a good thing because I couldn’t formulate coherent sounds at the moment. His hand slipped into my underwear, his middle finger followed my seam to my entrance, and with no hesitation at all, he pushed inside.

“Wet. I fucking knew it.” He sounded almost angry about it and he slipped his finger out again, painting my clit with my wetness. “You get so wet when you’re mean, hellion.”

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