No Denying You (10 page)

“Fuck, that was off the charts,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss against her neck. She nodded her agreement, still too out of breath to reply. He braced her body with one hand, while he pulled his trousers up and zipped them with the other hand. She felt him stroke the curve of her ass before he pulled her dress down. “I think you and I need to find a restroom before we go back in. Right now, it’s obvious what we’ve been up to.”

Emma agreed with him even though going inside was the last thing she wanted to do. She would have loved nothing better than to curl up in Brant’s arms and spend the rest of the night there. If she did, though, Madison was sure to tell her mother, who would tell Emma’s mother, and the gossip would go on and on. She also hated to leave without telling her friend good-bye since she so rarely got to see her anymore. She stifled a giggle as Brant reached down to pick up her ruined underwear and put them in his pocket. He gave her a wolfish grin as they both straightened their clothing to a decent level before walking back in the side door.

Luckily, the restrooms were close to the entrance and mostly deserted. Emma did what she could to restore order to her appearance and walked back out to find
Brant waiting for her. He dropped a kiss onto her forehead before leading her inside. Emma felt almost sad as they rejoined the group of her friends. After believing that she detested Brant for so long, she was now facing the undeniable truth that there was more between them than simple contempt. Standing in front of him, pulled against his chest and anchored there with his arms, she wished more than ever that this was real.

She didn’t want to pretend anymore. She wanted whatever had been happening between them this weekend to continue. Her heart was going to break on Monday morning when she walked into the office and Brant treated her like nothing more than his assistant. Shit! This had been a bad idea from the start. Life was so much easier before. They might not have had a great relationship, but it was one that they both understood. He didn’t like her and she didn’t like him. They both mostly enjoyed their verbal wordplay, but that was it. Truth be told, the arguments with Brant made her job more interesting. Even when he pissed her off, things were never boring. She put in the transfer requests only because she knew he wouldn’t approve them. She wasn’t sure what she would do if he ever did. Now, though, she was forced to admit the horrible truth that she had been denying, even to herself: She was in love with Brant Stone and had been for a while. He was everything she said that she hated, but it was a lie. She loved him right down to his boring black suits and matching, nondescript ties. She was in
so
much trouble.

Brant discreetly removed Jill’s hand as it crept closer to his crotch yet again. He thought he had made himself clear to her earlier when she had grabbed his ass on the dance floor. He had nicely but firmly told her he was involved with Emma and he wasn’t interested. She had handled that pretty well until she had tossed back another half-dozen drinks. Actually, the whole crowd was consuming alcohol as if they had just been threatened with Prohibition at midnight.

Emma’s friends had settled into a table in the back of the room and, unfortunately, Jill had immediately taken the vacant seat on the other side of him. She told him all about her husband dumping her for another woman. He figured her husband probably got tired of having his cock grabbed in public and packed his bags.

Emma had been quiet after their spontaneous combustion against the side of the building. He had been on the verge of asking her if she was feeling okay when Madison jumped up and pulled Emma out of her seat. Soon they were on the dance floor doing some dirty dancing moves that had him breaking out into a cold sweat. How could he possibly be hard again this soon? It had nothing to do with Jill’s wandering hands and everything to do with the siren in the white dress looking at him so provocatively as she danced with her friend. Damn it, she was killing him. He barely recognized who he was at this point. He had torn up the dance floor with a group of strangers, thanking God along the way that he watched
Dancing With the Stars
often enough to function. He had slow danced with a
woman with at least five sets of hands, and he had fucked Emma outside against a building for anyone to see. This was not him at all. He wasn’t a man led around by his penis or his heart. He felt completely out of control and yet . . . he couldn’t remember enjoying anything in recent memory as much as he had enjoyed this weekend with Emma. Could he turn something from make-believe to real? Did he really want to go there with her?

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Emma’s familiar sexy voice purred against his neck. He jerked back in surprise. He had been so lost in thought, he hadn’t seen her return from the dance floor. She was flushed and her eyes were bright, possibly with one too many daiquiris.

He pulled her against him, settling her in his lap. His cock was thrilled with her close proximity, although a bit frustrated with the barriers between them. “Hey, baby, I enjoyed your dance, although I would have preferred watching it in private.” She wiggled her bottom against his hard ridge, causing shivers to shoot through him. “Behave before I embarrass myself in public.”

“Mmm, I’d love that,” she teased. He was thrilled when she added, “I’m ready to go whenever you are. I don’t think I have another dance left in me.” Almost before she could finish that thought, Brant had them up and saying their good-byes to her friends. Another minute later and they were back in the humid night air. His driver and car were parked around the corner, and a quick call had them picked up and settled in the back.

He would love nothing better than to skip going
back to her parents’ house and find a nice hotel for the rest of the night. Unfortunately, they had a very early flight home tomorrow and they would have to pick up their luggage. It just wasn’t workable. Maybe if they were quiet, though, her parents wouldn’t have to know that he was having sex with their daughter under their roof . . . again. Yeah, he could do quiet.

When they pulled up to the house, he helped a sleepy Emma to the door. It took another few minutes to locate the key in her purse. A lamp was on in the foyer, but there was no sign of anyone awake. Things were definitely going his way so far. Emma giggled and groped him all the way up the stairs. He gave her a lingering kiss before making a quick trip to the bathroom. When he returned to the bedroom ready to continue their foreplay, he was brought up short. Emma was sprawled out on the bed, sound asleep and snoring like a sailor. Her dress had ridden up, exposing the tops of her creamy thighs. He tried not to dwell on the fact that she wasn’t wearing underwear. Sighing, he dropped to her side and removed her shoes. He lifted her slightly to pull up the bedcovers and then settled her back beneath them. Maybe it was better this way. Sex could only cloud things further between them.

He knew tomorrow was likely to be a difficult and confusing day, and he probably needed all of his wits to make some decisions. He had started to hope that she was as interested as he was in seeing where things might lead between them. There was no way this could have all been an act on her part. He didn’t know what
he felt for her, but he did know that it was completely foreign to him. He had never been this messed up over Alexia, even when she left him. There was something big happening between them, at least on his part, and he was both anxious and terrified to know how she felt.

The last thought he had before drifting into sleep was that the woman beside him held the long-lost key to his heart.

Emma found herself sitting on the airplane beside Brant not having a clue as to what to do. The morning had passed in a blur. They had been up early for their flight and she barely had time for a good-bye hug from her mother and father before Brant was rushing her out the door and into a taxi. Since they were up late the night before, the ride to the airport was spent in companionable silence as they both dozed lightly. Now, on the plane, the first moment of awkwardness had arrived. She wanted to reach over and take his hand, but she didn’t know if that was okay anymore. Was their time officially over now? As she continued to sit quietly, racked by indecision, Brant reached over and took her hand in his, settling them both in his lap. She felt her body relax. Everything was still okay between them. She leaned her head on his shoulder.

“You’re quiet this morning,” he murmured against the top of her head.

She quickly blinked back tears. God, she had gotten so attached to that voice this weekend. Whereas once a
statement like that from him would have pissed her off, now it just made her sad. She wished the plane ride were longer. Here, pressed against his warmth, was where she wanted to stay. Should she just put her feelings out there? The worst that could happen was that he didn’t feel the same way. “I’m . . . um . . . just tired from last night, I guess.” Shit! She couldn’t force the words that she wanted to say past her lips. She just couldn’t bear to have it end yet. For the next two hours, he was still hers and, right now, that was something she wasn’t willing to risk. “Speaking of last night, where did you get those dance moves? I never would have believed you had it in you.” She smiled as he chuckled.

“Some television and a lot of improvising. It helped that everyone was too drunk to notice the times I almost tripped over my own feet. I really enjoyed your friends. Well, with the exception of Jill. She’s not easily deterred.”

Emma pulled back, looking up into his smiling eyes. “That was a different Jill from the one I knew in school. Madison said she has been going through a divorce and I believe she was a bit desperate to prove that she’s still got it. In her defense, you looked pretty hot last night.”

Brant gave her a surprised but pleased look. “I . . . really?” It was obvious that he wasn’t used to compliments, and she felt a guilty pang that he had certainly not received any from her in the time they had known each other. Most of her comments to him were negative
and critical. That he enjoyed finally being on the receiving end of something positive was apparent. Why oh why couldn’t they have met under different circumstances? At work they had rubbed each other wrong almost from the start. Would things have been different if they had met somewhere else? He had been so caring, attentive, funny and affectionate all weekend. It was hard to believe that it was all an act. Somewhere inside of him, that man had to exist. Maybe if there hadn’t been an underlying attraction between them from the beginning, things would never have escalated to the love/hate, well, mostly hate, relationship that they had. It was never too late to try to change things, was it?

Giving his hand a squeeze, she said, “Oh yeah, you knocked my friends for a loop. Even David couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”

Pulling their clasped hands to his lips, he kissed her knuckles. “No one held a candle to you. I was the envy of every man there.” Emma felt herself doing something she rarely did: blushing. There was no doubting the sincerity of his words. She almost told him how she felt then and there, but the flight attendant picked that moment to start the beverage service and the moment was lost. Instead, she curled against him as much as the small space would allow and enjoyed feeling the steady beat of his heart against her ear as the last moments of the flight passed so much faster than she wanted.

Brant pulled the last of their bags from the baggage carousel and wondered to himself,
What now?
Emma was standing beside him awkwardly. “Did you drive to the airport?” he asked.

“No, root canal, remember? I was too high to attempt that.” They both laughed for a moment, remembering all that had taken place after her out-of-it plane ride to Miami. He was secretly relieved to have an excuse to extend their time together. He wanted nothing more than to ask her to come home with him, but he wasn’t sure how she would feel about it.

He took her carry-on bag from her. “Come on, baby, I’ll give you a ride.” Damn, was it okay to call her
baby
now? Should he have just said Emma? She didn’t seem uncomfortable over his slip, so he decided to relax and stop overthinking everything. If she jumped out of the car at her apartment without looking back, he would know that she wasn’t feeling what he was. Simple, right? Fuck, except why did it feel anything but?

Emma came to an abrupt halt when they reached his car. He popped the trunk of his Mercedes SL550 and stored their luggage inside. She gave him an incredulous look. “You drive a sports car?”

He paused in the act of opening her door. “Why is that a surprise?”

“This is one sexy car, Brant. I always had you figured for more of a car and driver or maybe a Volvo.”

He couldn’t help it. Rather than take offense, he burst out laughing. “I know there’s an insult in there. I
find it hard to believe you’ve never seen my car in all this time since we work at the same place.”

Putting her hands on her hips, she smirked up at him. “Honey, there is a bit of distance between the executive parking and the rest of the Danvers staff parking. You guys probably have some kind of protective cover pulled over your vehicles during the day.”

“It doesn’t get that good. You didn’t notice it when you were invading my beach area a few weeks ago?”

“Um . . . no,” Emma said. “I was too busy trying to get away from you to peek in your garage.” Opening the car door herself, she jumped inside. “I’m not complaining; this car is off the charts!” Brant whistled as he walked around the car to open the driver’s door. At least he knew there was one thing of his that impressed her. Maybe he would keep her in the car for the rest of the night. The way she was purring against the leather seats, she probably wouldn’t complain.

She gave him her address and it took him a moment to figure out why it sounded familiar. “Isn’t that the complex that Nick and Beth live in?”

Nodding, Emma said, “It used to be. They bought a house closer to Suzy a few months ago.”

Brant shuddered. “That’s one scary lady.”

Emma asked, “Suzy?”

“Yeah, Suzy. Don’t look so surprised. All of you women may love her, but she makes most of the men at Danvers want to cover their balls and run.”

“Oh, come on!” Emma defended her friend. “What has she ever done to you?”

Cringing, Brant said, “It’s not what she’s done to me; it’s how she looks at me. Sort of like I’m a cross between a toad and a cockroach. I feel like I’ve really disappointed her at some point, but I have no idea when.”

Putting her fingers up to form quotation marks, Emma teased, “She thinks you’re ‘prime man candy,’ which is a major compliment.”

Brant smirked back at her. “I believe you mentioned something along those lines when you were intoxicated on the plane. If my memory serves me correctly, you also agreed with her.” Before she could answer, he added, “Now, I found that very flattering but also a bit disturbing that I was the subject of such an . . . intimate conversation.”

Emma slid her hand along his thigh, murmuring, “Oh, honey, you have no idea.”

Before their flirtation could escalate, Brant was pulling into the driveway of her apartment complex. A sudden onset of nerves seemed to hold them both speechless. Should he ask to come in or let her make the first move? Wasn’t the guy usually expected to do that? Hell, he didn’t know and he’d never really cared before. You didn’t have these kinds of complications with casual sex. Everything was defined ahead of time. Now he felt like he had been reduced to a teenage boy on his first real date.

This kind of indecision was completely foreign to him. A few days ago, he would have imagined the final leg of this journey being much different. He could think only that if he had been forced to take her home,
he would have brought the car to some kind of a rolling stop and asked her to jump out. When she did, he would have peeled out of the parking lot in his haste to finally be free of her after a weekend of complete hell.

The reality now, though, was so different. Just a few days with someone whom he finally admitted to himself that he desired had changed everything. He wanted nothing more than to follow her into her apartment and make love to her until they both passed out from sheer exhaustion. The fact that he thought of it as making love and not having sex was not lost on him. “So . . . do you . . .” They both almost jumped out of their skin when Emma’s phone shrilled in the confined space of the car. He thought he heard her mutter a curse under her breath when she looked at the screen.

Brant saw her wage a mental debate before clicking to answer the call. “Hi, Mom, can I call you back in a bit? We just got home.” She listened for a minute before exclaiming, “What! Oh crap, are you kidding me?”

Brant laid a hand over hers, quietly asking, “Is something wrong?”

Putting her hand over the phone, she said, “Boston got busted in a campus raid for possession of marijuana.”

He fought the urge to ask why they were so surprised by that fact but decided now might not be the best time to point that out.

“Mom, let me get in my apartment and I’ll keep trying to reach Uncle Ted.” She clicked to end the call and
sagged back against the seat. “I so didn’t need this today.” She turned her head to look at him. “I have to go in and try to reach my dad’s brother, Ted. He’s a lawyer in Destin.” Brant did his best to hide a smile when she repeated his earlier thoughts. “Why is any of this surprising? Everyone in the family knows he is high as a kite more often than not. He’s studying botany, for God’s sake. Not only is he constantly smoking weed, apparently he’s growing the stuff as well.”

“What can I do to help?” he asked.

“Turn my brother into a scholar and not a pothead?” she asked hopefully.

Kissing her hand, he smiled. “Sorry, baby. That may be a tall order. How about I help you inside with your bags and let you do what you need to do for your family?” He could tell by the longing in her expression that they had both had other ideas about how the evening would end and now that was over. She needed to help her brother and that would be easier for her if he went home and let her concentrate.

He didn’t know if it was his imagination, but their pace seemed to drag by mutual consent as they made it up the one flight of stairs to her apartment. She opened the door and he had just a glimpse of the brightly painted wall behind her before she turned in the doorway. He gave her a gentle kiss on the lips, mindful of the fact that neither of them needed to end the night any more frustrated than they already were. “Brant . . .”

He put his finger against her lips. “I know . . . I’ll see
you tomorrow. If something comes up and you need the day off, just call me.”

With one more brief brush against her lips, he forced himself to turn and retrace his steps. Fuck, his life seemed to be filled with bad timing.