Page 49 of Branded
That he’d be in my bed, more than likely without the reality show blaring in the background.
He’d be there and his hands would be on me, his body over mine, his cock inside.
A bop to the tip of my nose. “Yeah,” he said. “We’ll see.”
Then he was gone again, disappearing out into the hallway, leaving me alone with Hazel.
Who was fanning herself.
“Holy sexual tension, Batman,” she said, tugging at the collar of her shirt.
I froze. “I?—”
“How does it feel to be one of us now?” Hazel asked, opening the bag with aplomb and setting out our sandwiches. “Struck dumb by all that hockey masculinity until you forget that you’re at work and want to jump their bones—or bone, rather”—a smirk—“and preferably, that bone-jumping will happen with you perched on your desk while they’re orgasming you into oblivion and?—”
“Is this your fantasy or mine?” I interjected.
And then felt my mouth drop open.
Where in the hell had that come from? Surely not my mouth since that was a level of snark I’d never managed aloud. On direct message, sure. But forming the words on my tongue and actually saying them? Not so much.
At least, I’d not been able to do it with anyone except Smitty.
I had snark for him.
Ever since we’d huddled around his laptop, and he’d opened up…and I’d shared and…
Certainty in my belly, spreading up and out.
Maybe he was right about our hearts knowing each other. Maybe?—
Hazel burst out laughing. “Guilty,” she said, unwrapping her sandwich and taking a big bite, talking around the veggies and cheese and meat. “I may have a desk fantasy.” She smirked again. “Mostly because with Dominic at home, it’s really hard to live any of my fantasies.”
I blinked.
“Crap.” Hazel rubbed her forehead. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said quickly. “It’s just…hard to be a mom and a sexual being. Especially, when I’m covered in spit-up and poop half the time.”
“I can’t say that I completely understand,” I said. “But having been on the receiving end of Dominic’s drooling powers, I can sympathize.”
We both laughed this time, and I was able to do it because Smitty made it possible for me to understand teasing that didn’t come from someplace mean. But it wasn’t just him. Oliver had built that bridge and Hazel had helped pave it, but Smitty was the one who’d given me the courage to cross it. I could be myself, and I could interact with my friends?—
Hell, I was worthy of friends and positive attention.
And maybe that wasn’t something that was all that amazing and out there.
Most people were probably born with that understanding, had it fostered by family and teachers and coaches.
But mine had been crushed to powder, washed away.
Until Oliver had invited me here to join the organization.
And Hazel had welcomed me in hers and Oliver’s and Dominic’s lives.
Until the team had included me in their events.
Until…a six-foot-plus man with a lumberjack beard and a penchant for plaid had shown kindness. He’d kissed me like a thunderstorm on a hot summer night, the sticky air clinging to my bare skin, the breeze coasting through my hair.
And given me a can of tea.
