With His Protection (For His Pleasure, Book 15) (7 page)

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They sat on the couch together and ate pizza and drank wine. Scarlett knew it was a bad idea to have anything to drink with him, especially when it was late and she was tired. She needed to keep her head straight, but after the kind of day she’d had, Scarlett needed to relax even more.

So she sipped her wine and took a bite of pizza, as Bryson filled his own glass to the brim. “So, we’re friends again?” he asked.

Scarlett smirked. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“I don’t think friends is getting ahead of anything.”

“Well, I’m not sure what we are right now. I’m still hurt.”

“But you said you understood why I did what I did.” He cocked his head at her.

“I know, but that doesn’t make the pain go away. And how can I be sure you’ve told me the truth? How do I know you didn’t sleep with her—or at least kiss her?”

Bryson shook his head. “Because I didn’t. And she never tried to go there, either.

I honestly think she was just lonely and scared and—“

“Well, I don’t trust her,” Scarlett said. She took another big bite of pizza, chewing and swallowing. “She’s too beautiful, and too self-involved, and too…everything. I just don’t like her.”

“Fair enough.” He tapped his glass with one finger. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

She looked at him, pushing a strand of hair from her eye. “I appreciate you saying that. And I’m sorry I flew off the handle without giving you a chance to explain yourself.”

“No, I don’t blame you for that. It looked bad. Really bad.”

Scarlett thought about it. “Couldn’t you at least have texted me or something, just to let me know what had happened?”

“I was hoping I could tell you everything after she left my apartment. I knew it might be a long conversation and I didn’t think texting was going to the trick.”

“Still, you should have given me a warning or something.”

“You’re right,” he agreed promptly.

She thought about Eliza answering the door to his apartment and her stomach clenched. “I hope you’re not lying to me about anything.”

He stared straight into her eyes. “I’ll take a damn lie detector test if you want.”

“Maybe I do.”

“Fine. Name the time and place.”

“Here. Now.” She stared evenly at him.

His eyebrows rose. “With what equipment?”

She lifted her hands in the air. “These.”

“Oh, so you’re like a human lie detector.” He nodded as if it all made sense.

“Maybe I am.”

“Okay, I’m game,” he said, putting his glass down, pushing his sleeves up, and sliding closer to her on the couch.

His nearness was a little disconcerting, but Scarlett was pleasantly buzzed from the wine, and the playfulness between them had settled her nerves. She looked into his eyes and smiled. “I need to get your pulse,” she said, grabbing his wrists and pressing her thumbs against his skin, trying to feel the throbbing of his heartbeat.

Bryson allowed her to do so, and she could feel the relaxation of his arms as he let her find the steady beat of his heart as she examined his wrists.

“Did you find it?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I think I remember this scene from the end of Meet the Parents,” he quipped.

“So? Just because it was in a movie doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

“Wait—what?”

“Just shut up for a second.” She held his wrists and looked into his eyes again.

“Now, I’m going to ask you a series of questions and watch your eyes and feel your pulse. This will tell me if your lying or not.”

“Sure,” he said, trying to suppress his grin.

“First question. Is your full name Bryson Taylor?”

“Yes. Well, I do have a middle name, but—“

“Just yes or no, please.”

“Okay…yes, I suppose.”

She continued staring into his eyes. The connection between them was undeniable, and the closeness she felt, the sense of warmth and caring—could she be mistaken? Could Bryson still be lying to her about Eliza Johnson? She didn’t think so, but the thought made her almost queasy. She tried to shake it off.

“Are you the director of the new film, Bridge and Tunnel?” she asked him.

“Yes.”

“Did you tell me the truth about Eliza Johnson?”

He stared directly into her eyes and his smile faded. “Yes.”

“Did you ever kiss Eliza Johnson?”

“No.”

“Did you sleep in bed with Eliza last night?”

“No.”

She smiled. In some way, even though this whole lie detector test was just a joke, it was actually reassuring her. She did think he was being honest, after all. Relieved, she decided to make a joke.

“Is it true that you’re falling for Scarlett Evers?”

“Yes,” he said, without hesitation.

She drew back a little, surprised. “I was just kidding,” she said, letting his wrists go and moving back slightly.

“I wasn’t,” he replied, his gaze unwavering.

She looked away, unable to take the intensity of the moment. Warmth had spread to her cheeks and the room suddenly felt almost unbearably hot. “I mean, the whole thing was just a joke.”

“Are you sure about that?”

She didn’t know what to do. Something had changed. Suddenly, the air felt charged with electricity, with unseen tension that was making her heart speed up. “I do feel better,” she admitted. “I guess I believe you. But I wish you hadn’t let Eliza stay over.”

He reached out and brushed the hair away from her cheek, his fingertips caressing her skin for just a moment. “I never meant to hurt you.”

Finally, she looked at him again. “Maybe you and I have too much baggage,” she said. “Maybe we aren’t good for each other.”

“Or maybe you and I are the two people that can actually understand each other.”

“I don’t know. You’re in love with a girl from the past, and you’ve got all these pressures on you right now. I don’t exactly fit into your life.”

Bryson moved slightly closer, leaning forward. “I know I’ve been hard to be around. I know I’ve confused you. I get it. It’s all my fault, Scarlett.”

“It’s nobody’s fault—“

“No. It’s all my fault. I was carrying around this guilt, I’ve been hauling it around for years. And tonight, when I finally told you everything—it was like a huge weight lifted off me.” He smiled, and it was the most genuine smile Scarlett thought she’d ever seen.

“I’m glad,” she said softly.

He reached out and caressed her cheek again, only this time his touch was lingering, and heat blossomed throughout her entire body. “You did that for me,” he told her. “After everything I’ve put you through, all my craziness. You cared enough to just be there and listen.”

“Of course I care about you, Bryson.”

“You freed me.”

“No, you freed yourself.”

“I think you might be an angel,” he breathed, leaning in closer, his mouth almost touching hers.

“I think—“

And then he was kissing her, and she’d forgotten how much she wanted and needed his touch, and his kiss. Even as her mind fought and questioned it, wondering if this was wrong, if she’d just end up hurt again—Scarlett started to give into what was happening.

His lips brushed against hers, his breath against her cheek as he cupped her face with his hands. Suddenly, they were eye to eye and his blue irises stared intently as he seemed to search for everything that was inside her. “I’ve never wanted anything as badly as you,” he whispered, as if to himself.

She breathed out, shuddered, breathed in, wondered just what was happening.

“Are you sure this is right?” she asked him.

He continued to caress her cheeks with his gentle fingers. “Are you sure that it’s wrong?”

“I’m scared.”

“Of me?”

“Of being hurt again.”

He sighed, and brushed his fingers through her hair. “I never want to hurt you, Scarlett. I’ll do anything I can to protect you from now on. And I’m sorry I didn’t do that before.”

The wind outside began to howl against the building, but right now, Scarlett didn’t even care. She was completely safe in Bryson’s apartment, and she was warm and he was touching her. “You would tell me if you had feelings for Eliza.”

He laughed softly. “I don’t even really like her very much. But I need her for this film, and I’m worried about her mental health.”

“What about your mental health? And mine, for that matter?”

“I think you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

“But I’m really not. Sometimes I feel like if I fell, I might break into a thousand pieces.”

“I’ll catch you before that ever happens.” He kissed her then, and his lips were firm and he still tasted of wine. Their tongues touched, hesitantly at first, and then his lips became more insistent. He made a sound deep in his throat, and his arms were around her, pulling her into him as he laid her back on the couch.

Now he was on top of her, his chest pressing against hers. He was kissing her more fully, and she spread her legs in order to accommodate his body on top of her own.

Scarlett closed her eyes, feeling the sensations as they arose within her body.

When his hands began to explore her skin, her nipples hardened and she grew moist between her thighs. He hadn’t stopped kissing her yet and she didn’t want him to.

Nobody had kissed her like this in all her life—it was as if he thought he could drink her in, take her breath inside of him.

And in a way, she did feel she was a part of him. She was so warm, and his heartbeat became her heartbeat, his mouth was her mouth, his skin was her skin. She’d never felt this connected with another person, and hadn’t even known such connection was possible.

When she finally opened her eyes again, he was staring into them, into her. She felt his chest with her hands, and then she touched his soft hair. She was shaking a little bit, and not sure why.

It was as if she’d never kissed a man, never made love. All of those years of fumbling boys, drunk men with dirty minds, men with rough hands and angry eyes—

none of those things had really happened. It had all been a bad dream until now.

Now she was here with Bryson, and he was changing everything.

He pushed her shirt up over her bra, and then slowly maneuvered his hands underneath her bra, and soon that was pushed upwards as well, revealing the bare skin of her breasts and the hardened, pink nipples that were as sensitive as anything on her body had ever been. She moaned loudly as he ever so softly touched them, grazing them with his fingertips. Her nipples stiffened even further, if such a thing was possible.

He traced a line between her breasts, down her stomach, making her shiver and laugh. He traced another line across her pelvis, his hand pushing her pants down, touching just the top of her panties. Her hips arched into him, as if her body had a mind entirely its own.

His hand flattened out, massaging her lower stomach. His eyes were studying her body as if he was an artist working with a piece of clay, molding it. She’d never been looked at this way—never been seen the way Bryson was seeing her. Now his hand slid slowly up her torso, cupping her right breast fully, the nipple poking out between his thumb and forefinger.

Bryson leaned down and his breath was hot against her skin, and then his lips singed her breast and he was licking her tight nipple, circling it tenderly before his lips closed over it.

Scarlett’s entire body went rigid from the explosion of pleasure as he sucked her exquisitely. Her arms stretched out over her head, gripping the arm of the couch. He moved to her left breast, kissing the skin around her nipple, and then licking, his breath gently tickling the flesh. When his tongue began to probe the nipple again, she felt the place between her legs become swollen and wet with anticipation.

Suddenly, Bryson was sucking her breast, cupping both of her tits with his big hands. He began moving from one nipple to the other, stimulating them both with his mouth, and then his fingers were also manipulating them, and she was crying out from the pleasure.

She wondered if anybody had ever gone insane from sexual excitement. As silly as it was, for a brief moment, she feared that she was going to be completely overtaken and lose her sanity completely. She wanted him so badly, wanted him enough to do anything he asked of her.

“I can’t take it,” she said. “I need you. I’m so wet.”

This seemed to make him take his time even more, as a sly smile spread across his features. “I wonder how wet you’ll be in an hour from now if I keep going like this.”

“I’ll be dead if you don’t fuck me by then.”

“I don’t think so. I think you’d love it if I got you so wet that just the head of my cock sliding inside of you could make you come.”

“I’m already there.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he told her. He slid her pants and panties down from her hips, just low enough that her bare, swollen mound was starting to be exposed. Then he began to toy with her, using his fingers to rub and massage the sensitive skin above her pussy.

“Oh shit, I’m going to come,” she said. She closed her eyes and grit her teeth.

“Don’t be silly,” he said.

“I—I can’t stop it.” She clutched his shoulders as his two fingers slowly slid beneath her soaked panties and plunged into her contracting tunnel. Her legs tightened and flailed and she cried out even louder than before.

He began slowly moving his fingers in and out as he leaned in and sucked her nipples again. His one hand cupped her breast as his tongue flicked the nipple, his other hand maneuvering between her legs, making her pleasure increase like a thermometer stuck in boiling water.

“Fuck me,” she said again. The urgency was all too real. She was gone, all of her fears had gone, he had melted off all of her reservations, one by one they’d been destroyed.

And now all that was left was Bryson, his hands, his body, his tongue, lips, and those eyes, had penetrated every last bit of her.

Bryson sat up and pulled his shirt off, tossing it over his shoulder. His muscular upper body was glistening with a thin sheen of sweat.

Outside, the rain had started up in earnest and Scarlett could hear the steady patter of it against the windows and building. She felt as though they were in a warm, dry cocoon together, and it was the height of luxury. Nobody could hurt her in this place, and she knew safety and love as she’d never known it before.