No Denying You (9 page)

Her whole pep talk was in danger of going up in flames simply from looking at Brant sitting on the deck with her father reading the morning paper.
Oh yum! Why does casual have to look so good on him?
Emma wanted to turn around, run upstairs and jump back in the shower . . . this time for a cold one. He was in another pair of cargo shorts paired with a black T-shirt. The thin cotton of the shirt showed clearly defined muscles, and she knew from experience that his stomach was a perfect V-shape. He had mentioned previously that he liked to run every morning. Since finding out by accident that he lived on the beach, she now knew where those runs took place.

Her father looked up with a smile. “Good morning, sleepyhead. We all slept in, but I think you and your mother took it a bit too far. Brant here had already been running on the beach and made a pot of coffee when I wandered down.” It was obvious from her father’s warm tone that Brant had been accepted into the family fold. They were going to be disappointed when she pretend broke up with him.

Brant held up the coffeepot and motioned her to the seat beside him. “Morning, baby, coffee?” When she nodded, he poured her a cup and leaned down to give her a hard kiss on the mouth before putting the pot back. She was momentarily surprised at how natural it felt to be greeted by him in that manner. While Brant had a lively discussion with her father on who was going to win the Florida–South Carolina game that evening, he absently ran a hand up and down her back. It felt too good for her to pull away.

“So, you two ready for the big event tonight?” Emma looked at her father blankly before it registered that he was referring to the reunion.

“Er . . . yeah, I guess.” Emma had never felt less enthusiastic about anything—except maybe for her recent root canal. The thought of having to make small talk with people she hadn’t seen for years held little appeal now. She would much rather be somewhere alone with Brant and that, she thought dejectedly, was the problem. Just last week, she would have rather been anywhere in the world than with her insufferable boss. Now she couldn’t think of anyone else that she would rather spend time with. She knew in her heart that as soon as they returned home, this strange new thing would be over.

But it shocked her to realize that she could hardly stand to think of him going cold on her again. Did he feel anything at all toward her or was he just a good actor? She could have sworn she saw real affection in his gaze this morning. It was probably just for her father’s benefit, but it had made her heart beat madly.

“Penny for your thoughts . . .” She looked up flushing as she realized that her father had left the table and Brant was looking at her curiously. “You looked like you were a million miles away.”

“I . . . sorry. I think I’m still tired.”

He gave her what she could only call a wicked grin. “Something wore you out last night, huh? Maybe a shower would help wake you.”

Giving an unladylike snort, she said, “I’ve already had a shower.”

Brant lowered his voice and let his hand slide against the curve of her ass. “I didn’t mean alone.”

Oh my God, the sexy Brant from the previous night was still very much front and center this morning. He moved her hair aside and nibbled her ear. Shivers raced up her spine and her body caught fire. “Mmmm,” she moaned quietly before she could stop herself. Her hand tangled in his hair without conscious thought and next thing she knew she was out of her chair and on his lap. She felt him hard against her bottom as she wrapped her legs around his waist. His eyes blazed into hers for a moment before their mouths met, tongue to tongue, all-consuming. “Brant . . .”

His tongue took control and dominated hers. She was helpless to deny him anything as he plundered her mouth. The voice in her head was screaming loudly,
What are you doing?
It was going to have to come up with something better than that if there was any hope of making her back away from the amazing mouth devouring hers.

“Good morning, kids!”

Yeah, that would do it, Emma thought as she jerked away from Brant. Her mother’s loud, chipper greeting was enough to douse the flames that had been consuming her.

To his credit, Brant continued to hold her loosely in his lap as he smiled a greeting at her mother. “Good morning, Kat.” Emma was relieved to note that her mother had her purse and keys in her hand. Thank God for small miracles. She wasn’t up to a grilling session over her relationship with Brant.

“I have to take Sandra for her laser eye surgery. Her daughter was supposed to take her, but she canceled at the last minute. What time are you leaving tonight? I wanted to be here to take pictures.”

“Mom,” Emma groaned, “it’s a reunion, not the prom. We’ll probably leave early so we can have dinner first.”

“Honey, I need to capture you and this hunk beside you on film. I have the picture I took of you two last night with my phone, but I need a better one for Facebook.”

Emma felt Brant’s body shaking as he laughed. She couldn’t believe Mr. Conservative wasn’t freaking out at the thought of having his image plastered all over Facebook.

“You’re no help,” she grumbled to him. Then turning back to her mother, she added, “If we don’t see you before we leave, I’m sure we will when we get home. Now you’d better hurry so Sandra isn’t late to her appointment.”

Her mother gave her a hug and a kiss on the forehead and then surprised her by repeating the gesture on Brant. “Enjoy the beach today. Your father is working for a while, but Robyn said she would stop by sometime.”

Emma untangled herself from Brant’s lap when her mother left. “I don’t know about you, but that was the equivalent of a cold shower.” Taking his hand, she pulled him up behind her. “Let’s go change and grab a paddleboard.”

She smiled when she heard Brant ask warily, “Paddleboard?”

Brant’s breath caught in his throat as Emma made her way down the stairs. She was wearing a white, above-the-knee dress that made her legs look a mile long. The dress hugged her figure and showed off her tanned skin to perfection. Her brown hair cascaded down her back in a jumble of loose curls. He wanted to bury his hands in the soft mass and devour her. He wanted to take her somewhere and just lose himself in her until he could no longer remember all of the reasons that getting involved with her was wrong.

But he had been down this road before and he knew where it led.

Emma was even more of a risk than Alexia. Standing before her in his black suit, he had never felt more unworthy of someone. She was beautiful, sexy, a free spirit . . . and he didn’t have the first clue as to what to do with her. If he wasn’t enough for his first love, there was no way Emma would ever be seriously interested in him. She would be back to hating him as soon as their play-cation was over. The person he had been
pretending to be while they were here wasn’t who he really was. In reality, he was the tightass that she had so often accused him of being. The surprising thing about this trip was how much he had enjoyed acting like someone who didn’t take everything so seriously. He hadn’t even bothered to check his company e-mail this morning, which was a first for him.

He knew their time was coming to a close soon and he wanted to enjoy every moment of being the man that she seemed to want. He took her hand when she reached the last step and pulled her against him. “You’re stunning.” When he picked up a box from the table beside him, she gave him a questioning look. “I know you said this wasn’t the prom, but I decided to cover my bases.” In truth, he had called a local florist earlier and bribed the owner to make a late Saturday delivery.

Emma smiled when he opened the box to show a delicate orchid corsage. “Oh, Brant, it’s beautiful.” She reached up and pressed her lips against his softly. “I love it.”

His hands shook slightly as he pinned the flower against the shoulder of her dress. This was unfamiliar territory for him and he was afraid he was going to stick the pin through her delicate skin. God, he could barely remember a time when his life was carefree enough to just be in the moment. Even with Alexia, he had always held a part of himself back. He had loved her but was very aware that bad things could happen to people you loved. In his experience, there was less
pain if you kept your heart better insulated. After all, something bad was bound to happen sooner or later. He had thought that Alexia was fine with that until she walked away.

Emma, he knew, would never be content with half of anyone. A relationship with her would mean he’d have to be all in. She didn’t do anything in life halfway. She would love hard and completely. He had no clue how to approach something like that. Once she figured out that he was not capable of being more than he was, she would be gone. He could live out the fantasy for the weekend, but things between them had to end when the plane touched down at home. No party could last forever.

The reunion was in full swing when they arrived. Brant had insisted on hiring a car and driver for the evening and, from the looks of the well-stocked bar, Emma thought that was probably a good idea. She figured it was largely due to the fact that he didn’t want to take her old car, rather than worrying about alcohol, but she had decided to let it go. She’d already sent Brant off to get her first drink of the evening, needing some time to compose herself. She had been floored when he had produced a corsage earlier. Such thoughtful gestures were something she would have never thought Brant was capable of. Heck, she would have never imagined him capable of all that he had been for the last few days—Mr. December was also Mr. Multi-Orgasm, Mr. Sensitive, Mr. Gentle and Mr. Personality, just to name a few.

On top of that, her parents were completely in love with him and, if she didn’t take control of her traitorous heart, she would be right there with them. Her pretend boyfriend was turning out to be the best man she had ever had in her life. She had even taken to chanting under her breath, “It’s not real, it’s not real.” He had actually caught her doing it earlier and she had brushed it away explaining that she was saying, “I need a meal.” Yeah, she wasn’t a fast thinker on her feet, but he seemed satisfied and had promptly ushered her in for lunch.

They had spent the day on the beach. She had discovered that Brant was possibly part fish because there was nothing he couldn’t do in the water. Some of those things would have probably gotten them arrested. He was a natural at paddleboarding although he claimed to have never tried it before. He was also well above average in the surfing department. She, on the other hand, had been so distracted by his gorgeous body in his Nike board shorts that she had tumbled into the waves times and again. She was sure that he knew the effect he was having on her. He never missed an opportunity to touch her whenever he was close. If not for her sister dropping by for a few moments to chat as they were making their way upstairs, she would have surely attacked him in the shower again. Unfortunately, now she was horny and in for a long evening before she could do anything about it.

Yeah, bring on the alcohol; maybe it could cool the flames roaring inside her. She had never felt the need
to masturbate in public, but she hadn’t ruled it out this evening. Brant had her completely on edge.

Emma jumped when she felt a hand on her lower back. When a fruity drink was pressed in her hand, she looked up to give Brant a grateful smile. His answering sexy grin turned questioning when she immediately drained half of the glass. She couldn’t detect any alcohol, and she wondered how bad it would look if she asked him to get her a glass of straight-up vodka.

“You’d better take it easy, baby; drinks like that will bring you to your knees.”

Emma could see the exact moment that they both got a visual of just what she could be doing on her knees. As his eyes locked on hers, he pulled her body closer to his, murmuring in her ear, “Well, maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

Her nipples hardened and she clenched her legs together, trying to relieve the pressure there. This conversation so wasn’t helping. She was one suggestive comment away from ripping his clothes off in front of the crowd and making this a reunion that no one would ever forget.

“Emma!” That was the only warning she received before someone almost knocked her off her feet. “Oh my freaking God, I can’t believe you’re here!” She was forced from Brant’s arms when her friend Madison pulled her into a rib-breaking hug.

“Maddie! I so hoped you would be here.” Emma was thrilled to see her old friend. Other than the hem of her dress being even higher now, Madison had
changed very little. Her long blond hair was still the same super-straight style that Emma had always envied and her skin still held that sun-kissed golden glow.

Madison had always been much more outgoing than Emma, especially where the opposite sex was concerned. She knew nothing had changed in that area when Madison said, “Girl, I’m gonna be honest. I have been staring at this stone-cold fox you’re with since I got here and hating the tramp plastered all over him. When I finally looked away from his luscious buns long enough to glare daggers at the tramp, I figured out it was you!”

Emma laughed helplessly at her friend’s colorful description while beside her Brant had stiffened. She didn’t know if he was offended at being called a stone-cold fox or by her being called a tramp. Possibly a little of both. She took his hand, giving it a squeeze for reassurance.

“Brant, this is my friend Madison.” And then because she couldn’t resist, she added, “I believe you went to college with her old boyfriend Paul.” She could see the exact moment that he made the connection in his head.

She fully expected him to excuse himself and head for the door, so she was surprised when he gave Madison a dazzling smile and said, “Paul always was a lucky bastard.” As soon as he spoke, it was clear Madison was officially in love with him, and Emma was at a complete loss. As her friend hung all over her fake
boyfriend, Emma had to wonder if maybe she didn’t miss the usual tightass Brant just a tiny bit. This one was unpredictable. Things that would normally freak him out didn’t seem to faze him at all.

Before Emma could blink, there were three more of her old friends, Meg, Tina and Jill, gathered around them. Even David, who her mother had targeted as a possible reunion date, had joined them. Emma had to admit her mother was right—David was a damn nice-looking guy. The problem was, though, he, like her other friends, seemed more interested in Brant’s attention than hers. Fifteen minutes later she was sipping her second drink and trying not to stare daggers at her friends. Was this what being jealous felt like? Brant, to his credit, had kept a firm hold on her hand no matter who attempted to squeeze her out. When Jill asked him to dance, she was relieved. Jill was happily married, even though she hadn’t seen her husband yet tonight. Brant released Emma’s hand and escorted Jill to the dance floor. Emma was floored when Jill put her arms around his neck and plastered herself against Brant. “What the hell?”

Madison stood beside her surveying the scene. “Yeah, I can’t believe you let that happen. The girl has turned into a major slut since Dean left her.”

Whirling around, Emma gasped in horror. “What? Why I am just hearing about this?”

“I have no idea; your mother must not gossip as much as mine.” Yeah, right, Emma thought. Her mother never missed anything . . . so why didn’t she
know about Jill’s divorce? She would have at least warned Brant ahead of time.

“Damn, would you look at that,” Madison said. “I can’t believe she went there.”

Emma shut her eyes and opened them again before she could muster up the strength to look back over at the dance floor. No, it wasn’t a dream; her friend had her hand on Brant’s ass. She was just fixing to march over there and make a huge scene when Brant took Jill’s hand and gently but firmly removed it from his backside. Whatever he said to her must have been effective because her hand stayed where he placed it without roving again.

David had come back from the bar and turned his head to see what they were looking at. With a sigh, he said, “I don’t guess he’s gay.”

“Um, no,” Emma grumbled, “he is definitely not.” My God, couldn’t any of her friends keep their eyes and their hands off her man? Okay, well, maybe he wasn’t really her man, but he damn well was tonight—and it was time she staked her claim. As she set her drink down, the room started spinning for a moment. When she had cleared her head enough to proceed, she noticed that Jill was no longer alone with Brant on the dance floor. Madison, Meg and Tina had now joined them as the music changed from a slow song to a faster number. Emma watched in shock as Brant moved like he was Justin Freaking Timberlake. Why was he torturing her like this? She had wanted him to impress her friends as a good piece of arm candy, but she hadn’t
actually wanted them to admire him enough to follow him like the Pied Piper.

If the looks he was receiving were any indication, the women loved him and the men hated him. Her Mr. December had taken the reunion by storm, and she didn’t think there was anyone in the room who wasn’t affected by him in some way. Had she created a monster?

Emma moved up behind him, sliding her arm around his waist as she moved her hips against his.
That’s right, baby. I saw
Dirty Dancing
at least a dozen times.
He stiffened against her for a moment until he recognized her. He turned, pulling her against him, chest to chest. He whispered in her ear as they danced together, “Interesting friends.”

“I didn’t see you complaining when Jill grabbed a handful of your ass.” Beside her, Madison raised a brow. Whoops, maybe that was a little louder than she had planned. Jill seemed to be oblivious, though.

Brant circled his tongue around the shell of her ear as he replied, “I only want your hand on my ass, baby. I think Jill knows that now.”

The desire she had been battling all evening came surging back, and she felt with certainty that if she didn’t have him soon, she would explode. She wasn’t sure whether a person could actually die of horniness, but it wasn’t a risk she was willing to take. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him toward the nearest exit. She heard her friends cheering her on and knew her intentions must be obvious. When they made it into the
night air, she took a deep breath. Beside her, Brant put a hand against the small of her back and asked, “What’s up? Are you feeling sick?”

Shaking her head, Emma pulled his lips down to hers and started devouring his mouth like the starving, sex-crazed person she had become. Brant moaned against her, backing her into a secluded corner of the building before pulling her tightly against him. As with most of their encounters, slow and sweet wasn’t in the cards. It was frantic, hot and bordering on insanity. When Brant ran his hand under her dress and snapped the delicate thread of her thong, she attempted to clamp her legs around his waist. Tonight, though, he had other ideas. He turned her to face the wall behind them and braced her hands against it. The sound of his zipper lowering was magnified in the quiet surrounding them. She heard him curse under his breath as he fumbled with a condom. His fingers probed between her legs. When he was satisfied that she was more than ready, he pushed into her from behind. The angle provided a deep penetration that had her on the verge of orgasm with just one thrust. He held still for a moment, letting her adjust before retreating. She pushed her hips against his, soon meeting him thrust for thrust. His large hands cupped her breasts, squeezing the nipples to the point of pain as his hips slammed into hers over and over.

Emma heard the sound of car doors just as her body started to spasm. Brant put his hand against her mouth, and she bit into his finger to stifle the sounds of her
scream as she climaxed. Behind her, she heard Brant’s muffled curse as he exploded inside her. He continued to slide his cock in and out of her, slowly bringing them both back from the edge. She collapsed against the wall of his chest, grateful for the support that it offered.