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And when she starts moving with me, bouncing on the end of my dick, I’m going to fuck her so hard she won’t be able to stop from creaming.
And if Tyler or anybody else has anything to say about our relationship, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.
Chapter Twenty-One
Bria
“That must’ve been one heck of a date,” Maximillia says, standing over me with a wide smile on her face.
She’s always lightly teasing me about using heck, but it’s all in good fun. It makes me feel like what a daughter must when her mother banters with her – something I can’t remember with my own parents.
“Word’s all over set about the way Braden kissed you in front of everyone. You’ve made lots of women very, very jealous.”
“I didn’t plan on that happening,” I murmur.
She sits opposite me, tapping her fingernails against the table. “But you’re not going to sit there and tell me you aren’t a little relieved to have his brand on you, are you?”
His brand?
She waves her hand with her classic Maximillia flourish.
“His brand. His kiss. He kissed you in front of the whole set to declare to the world, She is mine. And I am hers. It must be a nice feeling.”
“Oh.” I look around, but the other sewing stations are empty, the other interns are busy in other sections of the warehouse. “Yeah, it does. And the way he defended me against Tyler. I know it’s bad. I shouldn’t want him to threaten people. But I’ve been called names for so long, in high school, you know…”
“And to have a knight in shining armor is a nice feeling, yes?” she asks.
I nod. “Exactly.”
We’re silent for a time as Maximillia studies me, her head tilted as though in appraisal. I feel very watched, as though all my imperfections are laid bare for her to see.
“What?” I say finally.
“What?” she echoes, her smile twitching playfully.
“You’re looking at me like I’m a freaking animal in a zoo.”
“I was just wondering why you looked so troubled,” Maximillia says. “Are you scared of all the attention? I’m afraid that was an inevitable side effect of being with Braden Braxten, my dear.”
“No, it’s not that,” I tell her. “Well, maybe a little. But no. Mostly it’s… it doesn’t matter.”
She grips the edge of the table and leans forward.
“Is it a bedroom matter?”
I laugh and shake my head. “I don’t think this is an appropriate thing to discuss with my boss.”
“No? Okay then. You’re fired.” She titters and winks. “I’m only kidding, of course. But if you want to talk… Don’t forget, I know what it’s like not to have a mother to confide in.”
“It’s a little embarrassing,” I murmur. “And by a little, I mean a lot.”
“Come on then,” Maximillia says, rising to her feet. “Let me take you for a coffee.”
“Won’t the other interns be upset?”
“Even more upset than they were when they discovered you’re Braden Braxten’s forever girl? No, my dear, that is downright impossible. Come. Or I really will fire you.”
“I see the problem,” Maximillia says, keeping her voice low as she moves her forefinger around the edge of her coffee mug, in thought.
We sit in the corner of the café, near the window with people strolling by. The tables around us are unoccupied, which is mostly the reason I was able to get through the story about last night without stuttering or being sick from embarrassment.
It’s not like I went into any gross detail or anything, but I gave her the gist, enough for her to understand what I was talking about.
“It seems you have a relaxation problem,” she says. “Because you want this, don’t you, Bria? You’re not doing it just for him?”
“No way.” My voice comes out forceful, with way more passion than I intended. “I’m sorry, but no, no… I want it so freaking bad. But do you know when you’re trying to speak but there’s a ball in your throat, and none of your words will come out right, and it feels like everybody’s laughing at you? Well, it’s like that, only…”
“Sexual,” she finishes for me.
A blush spreads up my neck, over my cheeks, hot and difficult to ignore.
“Exactly.”
She’s quiet for a time, and then she says, “You know, part of your problem might be that you’re thinking about yourself.”
“What do you mean?”
“It sounds like you’re fine when it’s the other stuff, the less intense stuff, shall we say?”
She has a wicked grin on her face, diffusing some of the potential sting of the situation.
“Yes, all of that’s fine. Well, better than fine. Way better. You get the point.”
“And when you’re doing this better-than-fine stuff, are you thinking about yourself? Are you thinking about how much you’re going to disappoint him, and all those other things you mentioned?”
“Well… no,” I admit. “To be honest, the only thing I’m thinking about is how freaking good it feels. Or I’m thinking about him, about the noises he’s making and…”
