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How did I ever live without Braxton?
Nothing has been the same since he kissed me in that restaurant booth. He saturates my existence, fills every part of me, body and soul. The days before him fade into gray, into nothing. The days since are bright, vibrant. Alive.
I’m so in love with him. I thought I might be in love a dozen times in the past, but I never was. I never knew what love really felt like until I experienced it with Brax. Now I can’t imagine anything else. I can’t imagine loving anyone else. Ever.
And I’m scared shitless over it. Because this is Braxton.
He loves me with fury, fucking me into oblivion, making love to me with desperate tenderness. His kisses melt me, turn my brain to mush. His touch makes me shiver and tremble. When he’s inside me, when we’re as close as two people can possibly get, I don’t want it to end. I want to be connected to him, to have his skin against mine, his breath on my neck. I can’t get enough.
I haven’t slept at home once since the first night we were together, and I’m starting to wonder if I ever will again. I hate the thought of sleeping alone, without his strong body against me. I drift through my days, a smile rarely off my face. My coworkers comment that something has changed. I shrug and smile, keeping my secret to myself.
It’s harder to keep it from Selene.
Why Braxton had to tell her I’m having a fling on the side, I have no idea. He said he panicked. At this point, I’m avoiding Selene—putting her off when she asks to hang out. That’s messed up, and I know it, but I’m not sure what to do about it yet. I wish Braxton had just told her the truth, but he swears it will be fine. He says he’ll take the heat, and he’s sure she’ll understand.
Then Selene goes out of town with Matthew, so I feel like the pressure is off and I can relax—at least until she gets back.
Sunday morning, I’m cozied up on Braxton’s couch, eating pancakes. Pancakes are literally my favorite food ever, and his are the best. So light and fluffy, and slathered in butter. Braxton stands in the kitchen, finishing the last batch. He’s wearing nothing but dark blue boxer briefs, and if we hadn’t just fucked over the side of the couch half an hour ago, I’d probably be going for his cock right now.
Because, oh my god, his cock is magnificent. It’s fucking magic.
He grins at me as he flips a pancake, and I realize I’m staring at him. “How’s your breakfast?” he asks.
“Amazing,” I say. “Almost as amazing as you.”
His smile widens and he drizzles syrup over his pancakes, then brings his plate to the couch and sits down next to me. “Are you sure they’re good? You aren’t eating.” He raises his eyebrows.
“I’m distracted by your abs again,” I say.
He looks down at himself and laughs. “They’re your abs now, baby girl.”
I shift so I’m facing him and tuck my toes under his leg. “You are so sexy.”
“God, I love hearing you say that.”
I watch him take a bite. He licks the syrup from his lips, and I start getting hot between the legs again. “How did I get so lucky?”
He puts his hand on my foot and squeezes. “I’m the lucky one.” He takes another bite, then looks at me with his head tilted to the side. “Ky, what do you want to do?”
“Today?”
“No, not today,” he says. “I mean, what do you dream about doing? What’s on your list?”
“My list?” I take another bite, considering. “Lots of things, I guess. I want to travel. I haven’t been that many places.”
“Where would you go?”
“Somewhere tropical would be great. Hawaii or the Caribbean, maybe. There are lots of places in Europe that I think would be amazing to see. And there’s one thing I’ve always dreamed of doing, but…” It seems like such a silly thing, I’m not sure I want to tell him.
“What?” He nudges my foot. “Tell me.”
“I’ve always wanted to spend New Year’s Eve in London. I want to stand under Big Ben and watch that huge clock tick over to midnight.”
“Okay,” he says. “Let’s do it.”
“What?” New Year’s is three months away, and we’ve already been together for a month. Has Braxton ever had a relationship last that long? I try to ignore the sick feeling in my tummy when I think about that. “Are you serious?”
“Of course I’m serious,” he says. “This year, it’s happening. New Year’s Eve in London. You and me.”
