Page 69 of Branded
She grinned. “God, I hope so.”
A wave of heat. My cock dangerously close to needing that shield again. “What is it for you?” I asked. “Not wombats, obviously. Spiders? Snakes? The creepy crawlies that live on our skin?”
Her head tilted to the side, studying me. “Why would I tell you that?” she asked softly.
“Because that’s what friends do?”
“Is that what we are?” Her teeth pressed into her bottom lip, but this time it appeared that she was attempting to conceal a smile. “Because I kind of thought what happened yesterday meant…”
“What happened yesterday?” Raph asked, the fucker drawing me out of the conversation, and I knew those fuckers were still in the doorway, probably able to hear every word and preparing to give me shit for it and?—
“Hold that thought,” I said softly, stroking the backs of my knuckles along her throat, dipping into the slight v of her top. Then I stepped back and moved to the door, shoving the guys out. “Fuck you,” I said, glaring at Theo. “And fuck you,” I snapped at Raph.
Then the door was slammed.
I spun back…
The wombat had made itself a home on top of her monitor.
Twenty
Kailey
“Evil,” he murmured, prowling toward me.
Yeah prowling.
I shivered, but it was only in anticipation. There wasn’t any fear, any anxiety, no ball of nerves in my belly spreading outward, slicing as it expanded. Just heat prickling between my thighs, my nipples tingling as they remembered the treatment he’d given them the night before, my palms itching to touch, my pussy clenching and empty and…a little desperate.
But I was feeling…ballsy.
So damned ballsy.
And I wanted to tease, to give him back some of that teasing.
I lifted my hand, stroking it along the soft fur of the stuffed toy. “I’ve decided to name him, Herman.”
His beard twitched. “Herman?”
Right. Not the best name, but the only one I’d thought of on the spot. I might be finding a bit of myself, clawing out from beneath the tangled web of my insides, but I still wasn’t the best improviser.
Probably wouldn’t ever be.
But being comfortable with Smitty meant that I could lift my chin, could smile sweetly, and pat the stuffed wombat on its adorable little head. “Yes, Herman is his name, and he’s so cute that he’s going to be living here in my office.”
That beard twitched again, but I noticed that his gaze didn’t stray to Herman again, just stayed locked onto mine.
He stepped closer.
And…my heart started to beat a little faster.
Thud-thud. Thud-thud. Thud-thud.
A twining, writhing net, but not one that sent me spiraling into anxiety or fogging my brain—or at least, not one that fogged my brain in a way that wasn’t cramming me full of need and nearly sending me begging for him to press his mouth to mine again, to touch my breasts, to strip me naked and worship the rest of me.
No fear.
No worry of the words that may or may not cross my tongue.
