The Do It List (The Do It List #1) (39 page)

“No kidding.” Sarah zipped up my skirt.
 

She continued to mix and match separates on Bradley until she was happy with his look. Vintage baseball jacket, over a light gray Henley, black wash jeans and distressed, lace up boots.

Sarah marched us over to hair and makeup, where she continued to bark orders. “Smoky daytime eyes, no shimmer. Peachy blush and lips. Keep it natural. Don’t touch her curls.”

She turned to Bradley’s makeup artist. “Smudge of gray-brown shadow along his upper lashline. Light mascara on the lower lashes. Bronzer, a little powder—nothing else.” His stubble is perfect. Use a bit of gel and mess up the hair.”

Sarah stepped out of the trailer. “I’ll be back in ten.”
 

I settled in and listened, half-amused, to Bradley’s makeup artist come onto him.
 

I’d spent the last forty-eight hours contemplating my relationship to the gorgeous, infuriating man in the chair next to me. Despite the fact that we were still getting to know each other Bradley had quickly become my rock—my go-to friend, lover, and confidant. To say that I missed him would be the most humongous understatement ever.

I glanced up and caught him staring at me in the mirror. He wore the raw, I-want-to-fuck-you-so-hard look. My stomach fluttered and my cheeks burned. A not so subtle reminder of how much I missed him in bed.
 

So why didn’t I return his gaze?

Stubbornly, I could not shake off our problems—like our major trust issues. We were both freaky-possessive and insecure. If we couldn’t find a way to real intimacy, we’d never have the kind of relationship we both deserved.
 

Sarah stepped inside the trailer and slammed the door. “Do me a favor and stand over here.“ She held up her phone. “Closer—put your arm around her. That’s it.” Bradley slipped his arm around my waist.
 

 
“Smile, Gracie.” She snapped the picture. “You two look beautiful together.“
 

Derek poked his head in the door. “We need the talent like now.”
 

As I exited the trailer, Sarah’s gaze narrowed. “Truce, Gracie.”

Bradley fell in step beside me. “You okay with getting close?”
 

At the office, Bradley and I were barely speaking. That wasn’t going to cut it today. For the next few hours, it was Super Bowl Sunday, and we were the sexy mixed race couple being interviewed about a hot new body wash.

I glanced up at him, so ruggedly handsome in that baseball jacket. “I can stand it if you can.” I reached out and he took my hand.
 

In a sunny corner of the parking lot, Derek moved a handheld Steadicam over plump brats smoking on a grill. Snippets of b-roll footage cut together with the interviews would create just the right tailgate party atmosphere.

The Héros shower booth appeared to be one of many ongoing tailgate parties. A banner hung from the stripped awning of a Winnebago inviting passersby to Take the Héros Sniff Test.
 

Corey reached out and hooked Bradley and I into an interview. Our first take was over before I realized they were actually shooting.
 

“Cut” Mark yelled. “Great reaction, totally spontaneous!” Mark was in his element. I had no doubt that he would one day fulfill his dream and direct his own comedy scripts. He pulled us over to watch the playback. “Check this out—this last bit is übersexy.”

I watched myself dab a bit of body wash behind Bradley’s ear and sniff. Mark pointed to the small screen. “Do that again. I want a close-up.”

With each take, the camera captured a few good moments as the chemical attraction heated up between us. Bradley scratched my cheek with his beard stubble. In the middle of the sniff test, I nuzzled his ear and licked.

Corey whooped for the camera. “Holy shit, I’ve got a hard on!”
 

Mark looked up from the monitor. “Cheat Gracie toward camera, and let’s get a safety.”

Each time Bradley yanked me close, my breath caught and my heart lurched into an erratic rhythm. His every sweet nuzzle a reminder of how good he was. How good we were together.
 

Tingles, tingles and more tingles.
 

Between takes, I leaned back against the strength and warmth of his body “This is killing me.”

He returned a sexy grunt, primal and sensual.
 

After a brief consult with Sarah and Derek, Mark released us. “You two take a break. We’re going to shoot another interview before lunch, then bring you both back.”

Bradley released me, reluctantly. “I’ve got some work to finish up at the office. Ring me when they’re ready for us?”
 

Fuck me. I was hot and wet for him.
 

For three days, I’d felt the physical connection between us slipping away, and now this. He glanced back and I easily read his thoughts. Dark, feral and ready.
 

I shot back a petulant, frustrated look and he grinned. The first real smile I’d seen from him in days.
 

Sarah slid off a director’s chair and gave me a hug. “You both look amazing. And we got some tasty bits…”

I wrinkled my nose. “But?”
 

She sighed. “We need a wow moment, something funny, sexy, unexpected.” One of the crew called her name. “Maybe you two could work on something?”
 

“Need me to help with anything?” I asked, hoping for a distraction.
 

“Yeah,” Sarah backed away, “get your mojo on.”
 

Without a doubt, Bradley would know what to do. This morning on set, he’d replaced cool and aloof with warm and willing for the camera. I stood on the sidewalk, more anxious than hungry, and studied the tapas bar across the street.
 

Exactly one minute later I found myself staring at a blackboard filled with spicy appetizer specials. I just didn’t feel much like eating. What I wanted wasn’t on the menu.
 

I ordered a liquid lunch made with Patron tequila, Cointreau, and some sort of magical lime juice mixer shaken over ice.
 

My phone rang and I dug in my bag. A text message from Bradley.
 

My office. 10 minutes. No panties.
 

A massive wave of arousal swept through my body. Nipples peaked, womb and clit tingled and tightened. My toes even curled.
 

I would have trembled, but for the angst that bubbled up inside. Bradley was making sexy. He had obviously received the ‘wow moment’ talk as well.

The fifteen-dollar margarita came in its own plastic cocktail shaker. I slipped the bartender a huge tip and walked out the door with my drink.

The black SUV pulled alongside and I thumbed a ride. Spider eyeballed the cocktail but said nothing. “Back to the office?”
 

I nodded, sipping directly out of the shaker.
 

My body simmered pleasantly from a morning spent in close proximity to Bradley. The scratchy, familiar nuzzle of his beard stubble. His hand slipping down my back to cup a buttock cheek. And now this text message.

Why, why, why, had I met with Troy?
 

In front of the bar on Stone Street, Bradley had accused me of harboring some kind of distasteful attraction to my ex-rapist boyfriend. Like I was the kind of woman who wrote love letters to Charles Manson.
 

I gulped down icy margarita and silently fumed for the rest of the ride. Anger mixed with arousal and tequila is a potent combination. Two city blocks and one elevator ride later, I burst into his office.
 

Bradley sat behind his desk, relaxed and casual. I crossed the room and slammed the drink down. “Do you really think I’m in the mood to fuck you?”
 

One side of that damnable, sexy mouth curled. “You came here to be fucked.” He reached for the plastic cocktail shaker and drained it.
 

“You think so?” I snorted a laugh, stepping away.

He caught me by the skirt and yanked me against him. He swept a hand up my leg and under damp panties. He slipped a finger into wetness. “Seems pretty obvious, baby.”
 

Wrenching away, I slapped him hard and the sting felt good. “Still think so?”
 

I turned away and he caught my wrist. “Please, don’t, Bradley.”

He ran me backward, pinning me against the wall. “You mean ‘please fuck me, Bradley.’” His words buffeted against my lips, as he pressed against me.
 

I tried to push him away. “Let me go.”
 

He fisted my hair so I couldn’t turn away. “Never.” He covered my mouth, fucking me with his tongue. The kiss was long ravaging and I bit down hard.

“Jesus,” he growled. He wiped his mouth and smeared blood over his lower lip. “I suppose I deserved that.”
 

A myriad of emotions nearly overwhelmed me, but trumping everything was this man—this gorgeous, angry—bleeding man. And as insanely ill-advised as this was—I practically vibrated with desire for him.
 

Tentatively, I leaned closer. “I can make that better.” My lips moved gently over his as I licked the blood away.
 

 
He bowed his head, nuzzling my cheek. “I’m in deep, Gracie…I can’t work…can’t get any sleep.” His warm breath rushed over my throat and neck. “All I think about is you…” His lips closed over pulsing flesh and he sucked hard enough to leave his mark.
 

“Bradley…” I whimpered. My traitorous, aching body rubbed against him ready to surrender.
 

“Don’t say no.” His raw, whispered demand sent a shudder of arousal through me. How would I ever be able to live without his lovemaking? Bold, sensual and attuned to my body like no man I had ever been with.
 

He carried me across the room. Strong fingers cupped my ass cheeks, digging into flesh. With a sweep of his arm, he cleared off his desk and tossed up my skirt.
 

He unzipped his jeans and pushed the knit boxers down, exposing that beautiful cock, ready and powerful.

I lifted my gaze and kept my stare cool. “This is not make up sex.“

His eyes filled with raw lust and a hint of anger. “Stop lying, Gracie. You know you want this.”
 

 
I gasped as his fingers moved along the inside of my thighs, lightly playing the sensitive flesh. I reached for his velvet-taut hardness and stroked. Strong, sensuous lips twitched, and he groaned softly.
 

He hooked his finger into the crotch of my thong. “I said no panties.” He ripped them off, tossing the shredded lace aside.
 

From the start, Bradley had been an amazing lover. An exciting dominant giver of multiple orgasms. And at this moment I was so fucking hot for him I might come in seconds.
 

He pulled my ass to the edge of the desk and toyed with my folds, stimulating my clit until I was ready and willing to do anything.
 

“Spank me.” I cried, as a powerful orgasm rocked my body. He raised my knees and shoved his cock in deep.
 

“No spanking.”
 

He withdrew slowly and thrust in hard. “Such a gorgeous wet cunt.” He rocked my ass back and slammed into me. This was heart-pounding, down and dirty fucking. Exactly what we both needed.
 

“Jeezus, Bradley,” I gasped, loving the feel of his cock inside me, filling me up, teasing out ripples of post-orgasm pleasure.
 

“You feel incredible,” he growled.
 

“Why not punish me?” I taunted. “I should think you’d enjoy a good ass-slapping.”

His jaw flexed then tightened. “You wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week.”

YOU CAN LOOK up the definition for make up sex in the Urban dictionary: Rough and extremely gratifying sex had after an argument.
 

That wasn’t what happened in Bradley’s office. We had argued and we had enjoyed some angry raw fucking, but we weren’t ready to make up.
 

Our attraction, however, was back with a vengeance. Ask anyone at the shoot.
 

The steamy looks, how our gazes lingered—the way he caught my hand and pulled me to him. But the real proof of attraction happened when I placed a drop of Wet body wash behind his ear and nuzzled. Bradley turned and kissed me wildly, ferociously and publicly.

“Cut!”

The kiss continued well beyond the director’s call, which turned out to be sexy-funny. “I’m gonna need a cold shower break,” Corey wailed.

After the spot wrapped we were alone together in the wardrobe trailer. Bradley spoke first, breaking the silence. “You realize that kiss of ours is going to be the talk of the agency.”
 

“Then you shouldn’t have kissed me like that.” I sniffed, pulling on soft black leggings, my go-to plane travel comfort wear.
 

“And you shouldn’t have kissed me back.” He shrugged out of the baseball jacket. Those gorgeous blue eyes went all sensitive and tender.
 

A big part of me wanted to grab him and kiss him again until we were both breathless and shirtless and pantless.
 

Instead, I apologized. “I should have told you I was meeting Troy. But I was pretty sure you’d discourage it and I needed to at least try for some closure.”

“Everything I did, I did for your protection.”
 

 
“And I adore you for it, but you also withheld information from me. Your investigation into my case—you even hired security without consulting me. I’m a big girl, Bradley, you should have let me in on the plan.”

I expected a clash of brows or a frown, but his gaze remained vulnerable. Something else niggled at him.
 

“You kissed him back.”
 

The fact that he referenced the kiss on the sidewalk gave me hope. Troy’s kiss had taken me by surprise. And I had returned his kiss, a colossal misstep, which I needed to own. But the realization that Bradley cared so much renewed my strength. Made me want to fight for us.