Breaking Brandon (Fate) (17 page)

“I exchanged numbers with everyone in the firm. Things do come up after hours, so occasionally, we may need to speak outside o
f work.”

“But he’s not your
friend
?”

The caveat in his tone was undeniable. Brandon wasn’t just asking a question. He was making a statement. He’d certainly made himself clear last night, and he was doing it again now.

“He’s my co-worker,” she said, feeling a little stupid now that she’d actually laid the syrup on when talking to Antonio that morning on purpose. The last thing she would’ve imagined then was that it would come back and bite her in the ass in this way. “Subordinate actually, but I prefer to see them all as co-workers.”

“You call all of your subordinates sweetie?”

“Okay,” she said, straightening out a little. For someone who liked cutting right down to the chase, he sure was dragging this one out and painfully so, since they both knew what he was trying to insinuate. “First of all, no, I don’t. Second, I’ll just admit it because I don’t want this to become an issue moving forward. That morning I was extra nice to him
because
you were standing right there listening. You’d been pretty curt with me up until then, and I just wanted to make a point that I wasn’t the anti-social one. I can be very nice when people are nice to me. But no, that was the first and last time I ever called him that.”

His continued heavy stare dug into her. Now that she knew
how closely he was paying attention to even the smallest of things, she wondered what was going through his mind. To her surprise, his stern expression softened. “You are very nice,” he said, kissing her softly, “and very beautiful.” He kissed her chin then moved down to her neck and sucked, making her squirm in response. Kissing his way back up to her lips, he stopped, and their eyes met again. “He shouldn’t be an issue. I was gonna let it go actually. I didn’t wanna make a big deal out of something so trivial, but after seeing the surprised look on his face today, it made me wonder just why the fuck he’d be so surprised that you were with someone, so I had to ask.” He smirked, though it wasn’t as playful as his usual smirks. “As of right now, I’m not fond of any guy so willing to go out of his way for
my
princess, but I’ll take your word that he’s nothing more than your eager-to-please subordinate. Just be warned. Unless you want me to really hate the guy, please never let me hear you call him sweetie again.”

“I won’t,” she whispered with a smile, and Brandon took her mouth in his again.

Her insides churned with a mix of excitement and nerves as he kissed her slowly but incredibly meticulously, not missing a single spot of her hungry mouth. She wondered even through her suddenly aroused state how long it would take for her to get used to Brandon’s emphatic way of getting straight to the point when it came to certain things. There’d be no guessing games in this relationship about things of this nature. That was for sure.

~~~

By Thursday, they had their routine down. That evening, Brandon had to make a run because she was getting low on the wrap for her ankle, even though it wasn’t nearly as sore as it had been days ago. He still insisted she continue to wear the wrap. He also said he’d be stopping to pick up dinner and a few other things he was getting low on from the market. As usual, he refused to take any money from her.

From the first day Regina had stepped foot into Brandon’s
meticulously organized apartment, she’d been even more overwhelmed with concern over what she’d gotten herself into. She was almost embarrassed now that he’d been witness to her less-than-organized place. She wasn’t a slob or anything, but Brandon’s apartment was a perfect exhibit of a neat freak bordering on OCD.

Regina had teased him about it, and he shrugged it off, explaining he hadn’t always been this way. Being a Marine had a lot to do with it, and then becoming a drill instructor had made him even wo
rse. Only Regina was the one using the word worse. He’d used the phrase “helped me become even better organized, not just at work but in my personal life.”

This was the first time she’d been left alone in his place all week. Trying not to be nosey but incr
edibly curious, she peeked into his closet. Already she’d walked around his front room, looking through his neat but sparsely decorated shelves a little closer than she had all week. Most of the week she’d had glimpses of his well-organized closet from when she’d seen him go in and fetch something, but he’d always quickly closed the door.

She took in his clothes first. They were perfectly hung and separated by color with his uniforms off to one side. Many were still in their plastic coverings from the clean
ers, and his shoes were neatly lined on the floor. The see-through totes in the above shelves were all the exact same size and stacked just so. Something in one of the totes caught her eye. It looked too much like a pair of handcuffs.

Tilting her head, she
tried to make out the other things in the tote, but it was hard to tell from where she was standing. She saw what looked like rope and some kind of harness with buckles.

Glancing back at the open bedroom door, she wondered if she dared take it down and pe
ek in. Indulging her curiosity by being nosey and looking into his closet was one thing. Digging into his drawers or even totes was pushing it. She decided she wouldn’t go there but did continue to look through his clothes. She’d seen him in uniform many times and seen his laid-back jeans and T-shirt look on the weekend and evenings, but the only time she’d been witness to him all dressed up was the night at Gaslamp. Yet he had many civilian dress shirts hanging in his closet. Really nice ones too. For someone who kept to himself and made no attachments, he had an awful lot of socializing clothes.

She moved one particular shirt aside because the color, a deep royal blue, was eye catching, and she could only imagine how incredible the blue in his eyes would s
tand out when he wore this. Then her hand hit something hard, hanging against the wall. It caught her attention because it was long cold and slender like a weapon maybe? But it wasn’t. It was a metal stick? She spread the shirts apart to get a better look, and her jaw dropped. There wasn’t one stick but two, only they weren’t sticks. They were riding crops, and hanging right next them on its own individual hook as well was a long black wooden paddle with a red heart painted in the middle.

Her head jerked up
to the tote on top. Those
were
handcuffs. Holy crap! Was he really into this stuff? As much fun as she’d had in college, there had been several things she’d never tried. This was one of them. As nervous as it made her, there was a slow bubbling inside her. She’d never trusted anyone to tie her up, and she hated to admit it, but her sexual life with Ryan while sweet, safe, and very loving had also been very vanilla. It never even crossed her mind to ask him to do anything kinky to her.

Pushing away painful
thoughts of Ryan, she wondered instead if Brandon would be bringing this up once she was ready and
how
he’d bring it up. Would he just spring it on her? The way he’d closed his closet so quickly all week made her wonder if he’d bring it up at all or if that was another of the few topics he seemed to skirt and she wouldn’t get to explore.

Forcing herself to stop thinking about it, she moved into his kitchen. She’d been in there for a few minutes, looking through the neatly lined cans of food in his small pan
try and noticing how orderly everything his fridge was. He must really think her a slob. Since she’d only been here a few weeks, she hadn’t bothered to clean out her fridge even once yet. She didn’t have a whole lot in it, but it definitely didn’t look as if it could pass the white glove test as Brandon’s did.

She heard the front door open and smiled. He’d been gone just over an hour, and she was already excited to see him again. Only he didn’t come
into the kitchen, so she walked out to meet him. He’d dropped off some bags and a box of food on the table, but he was gone. Worried that somehow he’d gotten wind of what she’d been doing while he was gone, she actually glanced around, expecting to see cameras she’d missed all week, but there were none. What if he’d had some kind of sensor on his closet door that went off, alerting him she’d been snooping? There was a phone app for just about everything these days, and, of course, that would be just her luck.

She walked slowly into the bedroom and froze when she saw him standing in front of his open closet, shirtless. He turned to her, his jeans hanging just off his waist and frowned. Did he know? Would he be kicking her out now?

Chapter Fifteen

Regina held her breath, her eyes on Brandon’s clenching fist. He turned to her with a frown. “Damn bird shit on my shirt outside the drugstore.” He pulled a shirt out from the closet. “I wanted to soak it first thing.” He motioned to
ward the bathroom with his chin. “Since it’s white, I don’t want it to stain.”

Relieved, but now completely distracted by his bare chest and shoulders, she stared at them with a sinful grin. This entire week his shirtless chest managed to elude her, despit
e all the showers he’d taken and times he’d changed. “Wait,” she said, before he could put his shirt back on. Her eyes dropped to the lower right side of his abdominal muscles. “Can I . . .?”

She pointed at the string of words tattooed as she got closer. F
or a moment, she was almost afraid to finish her question. What if the words were for another girl? Someone in his past. The girl she reminded him of maybe? He’d gladly and proudly explained all his other tattoos. The ones on his arms were all tributes to the Marines. He’d even lifted his sleeve a couple of the times to show her a few a little higher on his arm she might’ve missed, but he hadn’t mentioned this one. If they ever made love, could she stand staring at something so profound he felt for someone else he decided to have it tattooed on his body forever?

Staring at it now, she was close enough to make out the words written in script, and read downwards. The sentence ended with a small heart woven into the script itself. She didn’t understand it, but
it
was
about his past. “What does it mean?” she asked.

“What’s past is prologue,” he whispered, before lifting the shirt over his head and bringing it all the way down to cover the tattoo. “Technically, it means history repeats itself, but I like to think
of it how my mother explained it. While our past does set the stage for what’s to come in the future, ultimately it’s
your
decisions based on what’s happened in that past—good or bad–that determine your future.

The way he looked at her when he said that la
st part was so piercing it almost felt personal, not as if he were explaining but rather telling her. Did he know something about her past already? Could he possibly know about what she’d almost done? Or was there something else he was trying to tell her?

She cleared her voice, trying not to sound as nervous as those last words made her. “That’s very profound. But do you really believe you can dictate the future? There are some things you have no control over. Sometimes things just happen.”

Taking a few steps toward her, he looked at her with a vacant expression. “But they happen for a reason, like you falling down those stairs and me being there to help you.” He slipped his hand in hers as he reached her. “If I had let past experiences interfere with the decisions I made after that night, you might not be here with me right now.”

He slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her against his hard body. Gulping, because her heart was already doing that thing it always did when she was in his arms, she searched
his eyes. As risky as her next question was—because he might turn it around on her—she had to know. “Is there something in your past I should know about?”

Slipping his hand out of hers and bringing it behind her neck, he smiled softly, shaking his head and
mouthing the word “no.” His eyes were immediately on her lips, and he licked his own. “I can hardly stand to look at you for very long without kissing you.”

Then his lips were on hers, and she sighed against his. Regina had come to the conclusion earlier
that week that nobody had ever kissed her the way Brandon did. From the very first time, he’d done so with that unabashed craze, and she’d felt it. But since then, even though the craze had calmed a bit, the passion hadn’t. Even when he kissed her softly and gently, as he did now, there was so much in those kisses. They reached a place in her she didn’t think had ever been touched.
Kisses.
These were just his kisses!

But they were so much more than just kisses. She wished she could explain it—understand it—
because if she ever said it out loud, it would sound preposterous. They’d been together for less than a week, and already his kisses held so much emotion. Emotion he was yet to express verbally. He’d told her she fascinated him and that after she’d kissed him he was a goner—he wanted more of
her,
but why? Even with as much passion as he’d kissed her all week, he hadn’t so much as attempted to take it any further. It was almost as if kissing her as he did satisfied something much deeper than sex would for him. Regina felt it too, but even as satisfying as his kisses were, she was ready for more. She was more than ready.

Moaning as they moved closer to the bed, she pulled him along, tugging on his shirt. She wanted him to see—
feel
how ready she was to take this further. Even as they sat on his bed, he never took his lips away from her, immediately pulling her to him as they lay back. His hand moved up from her neck, and his fingers massaged her head as he continued to kiss, sucking her tongue a bit harder as the kiss went on.

Finally, he pulled away, only to breathlessly admit, “I’ll never get enough of your mouth.”

Before she could beg him to make love to her, his lips were on hers, and she was helpless to pull away. She too was beginning to feel addicted to his tongue in her mouth. What was he doing to her? She felt completely spellbound by his mouth—his tongue. So much so she was beginning to think if he did this much longer she might come undone and cry out in pleasure from just kissing him. Was that even possible?

If his mouth on hers alone could do this to her, she could only imagine if . . . The moment he took to catch his breath, she gasped. “Make love to me, Brandon. I wanna feel you inside me
so
bad.”

He stopped and stared at her. “Are you sure?”

She nodded eagerly then wrapped her arms around his neck. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Without saying another word, Brandon pulled away and began undressing her slowly. Luckily, there was not much to remove. When he’d left earlier, the first thing she’d done was shed her wor
k clothes for a San Diego Padres T-shirt of his that she’d come to love in the short time she’d been staying with him. It smelled like him, so fresh and clean and perfect but with that hint of his personal scent. That first night when she’d spent the night at his house, she realized in her haste to make sure she brought everything she needed for work and all her toiletries, she’d forgotten any pajamas. He’d offered her the shirt, saying he often changed into it in the evenings after taking a shower to relax in. When she’d gone into his bathroom to change into it, the smell of it as she brought it over her head combined with the perfectly worn soft cotton fabric had been almost orgasmic. If she had it her way, she’d live in his shirt.

Brandon kissed her naked
shoulders after pulling the shirt off of her. Sprinkling more kisses down her collar bone, his touch was so incredibly gentle she could hardly believe he was into the stuff in his closet. Maybe those things weren’t his, but they had to be.

Continuing to m
ake his way down under her neck, he pulled her panties off without ever stopping the rain of soft kisses all around her neck and just under her ears.

Lifting his body away from her for a moment, he pulled his own
shirt off, and it was her turn to kiss his shoulders as he leaned back onto her. She ran her fingers over his hard chest and perfect abs. This whole week he’d hardly left her side, except for when they’d been at work, so he hadn’t mentioned working out, but judging from his perfectly sculpted hard body, obviously he did—a lot.

He kissed her, and once again, she fell into that place only his kisses ever took her. She closed her eyes, and her mouth soaked his up. Even though she was lying there completely nud
e under a man, something she hadn’t done in over eighteen months, she couldn’t think of anything more than giving into his masterful kisses. She felt him move around doing things as he occasionally ran his hands over her naked body.

She’d been so lost in t
he magic of his kisses she didn’t even notice he’d stripped down to nothing until he stopped to place the condom on. She stared breathlessly, knowing he’d soon be inside her, something she’d practically begged for, and now the reality of it really sunk in.

Before she could give it another thought, Brandon positioned himself between her legs. “You ready, princess?” he whispered with a smile almost as nervous as she felt.

Somehow, she thought there’d be more foreplay, that he’d do a lot more to her before they got to this part. Maybe he’d bring out his tote of naughty treasures. She’d imagined him taking her roughly, spreading her wide then plunging in her with force. Instead, he lay down gently over her, bringing those lips that would be the death of her and began kissing her just as gently as he slipped into her. The one thing he did that was different from anything she’d ever experienced was he brought her hands over her head and held them there with both his hands.

The only time their lips parted from that
moment on was when he was inside her completely, and she gasped at the incredible feeling of fullness it gave her. She’d been right. Having him inside her was amazing. He slid in and out in the same rhythm as his kisses for a very long time. Even as he began to rock into her harder and faster, holding on tighter to her hands still above her head, she got the distinct feeling that he was getting just as much arousal from kissing her as he was from fucking her.

Shifting his body ever so slightly, she felt him
smile against her lips as his erection began to slide over that perfect spot, making her entire body quiver in reaction. Regina moaned as each time he slid in and out, and her body trembled uncontrollably. She cried out as the sensation began to peak, but even that didn’t make him release her mouth. He slammed into her harder—faster—and she lifted her hips up to take him as deep as possible. Regina didn’t just climax; she erupted. Even as the explosions of pleasure went off again and again, she felt him bury himself in her, and not once did his tongue ever stop.

She closed her eyes tightly, and the mixture of her continued throbbing climax and his enthralling
deep
kisses had her climaxing for so much longer than she ever had. Long after they’d both come, he continued to kiss her and slide in and out of her until she felt him harden again. Feeling him slowly fill her again as he slid in and out, she lifted her good leg around him, suddenly wanting to—
needing
to—relive the best sex she’d ever experienced. There’d been nothing out of the ordinary about it. She and Ryan had done it almost just like that every time, minus the amazing marathon-long kissing. Something as simple as her hands being held her over her head coupled with the
perfect
positioning and timing when he’d driven into her near the end, had made for such a profound climax. Or maybe it was just him. He was so different from anyone she’d ever been with this felt so different—so incredible.

To her disappointment, Brandon pulled away, moving her leg do
wn. “I’d go on, but this condom’s had it.” He chuckled as he pulled out of her, leaving her feeling incredibly empty and yearning to have him inside her again. “Damn, this thing is
done
.”

Climbing off the bed, she watched as he walked off into the bathroom
then came back with a towel. Almost ashamed that her eyes had gone directly
there
, she smiled when she saw he was still as ready as she was to go at it again. The moment he was done cleaning her up so gently it drove her nuts, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Again,” she whispered in his ear, and in the next second, she was flat on her back again, giggling in delight as Brandon pulled out another condom.

~*~

Brandon

No way would Brandon have believed it if anyone had told him this would happen just a week ago. The little princess from the airport was his girl now, and they were making incredible love day and night. For years, Brandon hadn’t allowed himself so much as a distant acquaintance with any girl. He’d gone to great lengths to make sure any interaction he had with women remained safely unemotional. Now just like that he was in a formal relationship with a girl he already felt crazy about. He was completely helpless to remain unemotional. Everything he said or did to her overflowed with emotion, an emotion he’d been afraid to give into for years. Now he couldn’t imagine going even a day without hugging her, kissing her, and making love to her the way he’d been doing for such a short time. He had a girlfriend now, and
he’d
been the one to suggest it.

As scary as the thought was when he’d decided to put it out there, Brandon knew he’d made the right decision. There was no way he would’ve been able to remain just friends with her, no way he would’ve ever agreed to the idea of not having the right to p
rotest the other men in her life. That was one of the most pressing reasons why he needed things this way. And now that he’d felt what it was like to make
love
to a woman—felt what had been written about in poems and songs for centuries—he was damn sure he’d made the right decision demanding exclusivity so early on.