On Dublin Street

~14~





The niggling face of consciousness nuzzled against mine, and as I woke, I became aware of a heavy weight across my waist and the fact that I was unusually warm. I realized the heat was what had awoken me. If I was to take cue from the heaviness of my eyes, and their reluctance to open, it was too early for me to be awake and I should probably fall back asleep.

But that heavy weight across my waist felt familiar.

Forcing my eyes open, I looked at the bare chest lying inches from my face.

Okay, what?

Wake up! My sleepy, sore eyes travelled up that chest to the face and reality slowly, but surely, sunk in. Braden was in my bed.

Again.

It took me a moment—remembering coming home last night and finding him asleep on the couch. I’d talked to Ellie, cleaned up in the bathroom and then hit the hay.

Clearly, sometime during the night, Braden had crawled into bed with me.

That was so not the deal.

With a huff of annoyance I pushed against his chest with all my might. And by all my might, I mean I rolled him right off the bed.

His large body hit the floor with a painful-sounding dull thud, and I leaned over to see his eyes fly open, bleary and confused as to why he was looking up at me from his sprawled position on the floor. Did I mention he was completely naked? “Jesus Christ, Jocelyn,” he complained, his voice hoarse from sleep. “What the hell was that?”

I smirked down at him. “That was me reminding you that this is just sex.”

He pushed up onto his elbows looking sexy as hell with his mussed hair and belligerent expression. “So you thought you’d deposit me from your bed?”

“With style.” I nodded, smiling sweetly.

Braden nodded slowly as if accepting I was in the right. “Okay…” he sighed…

… and then I strangled a squeal of fright as he lunged upwards, his strong hands gripping my upper arms as he dragged me down onto the floor with him. “Braden!” I yelled, as he rolled me onto my back. And then he did his worst.

He started to tickle me.

I squealed like a girl, wriggling and laughing as I tried to evade his attack. “Stop it!”

His grin was wicked and determined, and he was fast and strong, dodging my kicking legs and still managing to pin me to the floor and tickle me. “Braden, stop!” I could barely breathe from laughing so hard and from exerting so much energy to get away from him.

“Can I trust that I can lie next to you in the future without fearing stealth attacks while I’m sleeping?” he asked loudly over the noise my breathless half-choking, half-giggling self was making.

“Yes!” I promised, my ribs starting to hurt now.

He stopped and I took a deep breath, relaxing into the floor beneath him. I winced. “This floor is hard.”

His eyes narrowed. “Yeah, tell that to my arse.”

I bit my lip so I wouldn’t laugh. I failed. “Sorry.”

“Oh you look sorry.” His mouth quirked up at the corner as he placed his hands on either side of my head and braced himself above me, nudging his knee between my legs. “I think maybe I should punish you anyway.”

My body responded immediately to the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice. My nipples pebbled, and as I bent my legs, spreading them open for him, I felt the pulse of my sex telling me I was ready for him. I ran my fingers over his six-pack before sliding my hands around to clutch his lower back. “You want me to kiss your tushy all better?”

Braden had just been about to kiss me but he pulled back. “That’s such a weird word.”

“So is ‘knickers’. What the hell are knickers?” I pushed away a memory of a similar conversation with my mom—many similar conversations in fact where I’d tease her about some of the weird words she used. I focused on Braden’s eyes to push her out.

He grinned down at me. “Okay, admittedly ‘panties’ is a sexier word than knickers. But you’ve got to admit ‘pants’ is a terrible word for trousers.”

I scrunched my nose up. “’Trousers’ is such a fussy word. Like ‘whilst’. You all say whilst a lot.”

Braden made a face. “What Scottish people have you been talking to?” his voice deepened as his melodic accent got upper crusty and kind of English sounding. “My woman was arguing pedantically about British words whilst I was trying to f*ck her.”

I burst out laughing, smacking his back as he grinned cheekily down at me. “You started it with the whole tushy thing, Mr. Darc-” I sucked in my breath as his hand slid sensually down my waist, around my back and down under my shorts and panties so he was cupping my bare butt. He jerked me upwards, pressing his hard cock against me. I gasped as everything tingled—my scalp, my nipples, my sex. The atmosphere between us changed instantly. We didn’t speak as Braden pulled back onto his knees, his erection throbbing. I sat up, my eyes still on his as I reached out and wrapped my hand around him. The fire in his eyes flared as my grip tightened and I slid my hand down the hot silk of him. His hand wrapped around mine — I thought at first to guide me, show me what he liked — but instead he took my hand in his and forced it behind my back, dragging me up to his mouth. His lips were soft, gentle at first, but I wanted more. I flicked my tongue against his, deepening the kiss into something wild, lush and wet. God, the man could kiss. I could still smell his cologne on him, feel the gentle abrasion of his stubble against my cheek, and I could taste what being with me did to him. I’d never known that someone’s desire for me could be so powerful. But his was. It drove me over the edge and made me forget everything else.

Braden’s lips reluctantly parted from mine, and he let go of my hand, shifting back a little to trail his hands along the waistband of my shorts. I leaned back on my elbows, giving him better purchase, and I watched, my belly a flurry of excited butterflies, as he slowly pulled my shorts and panties off and threw them over his shoulder. Helping him out, I lifted my camisole off and stretched back, naked for his perusal.

The sex was different than it had been the day before. Braden’s touch was more deliberate, more patient, almost reverent, as he pressed me onto my back using his body, positioning himself between my legs. He cupped my breasts in his hands, holding them up to his mouth, his lips and tongue taking turns to slowly enflame my body.

“Braden,” I sighed, clutching at the nape of his neck, my own arching, my breath faltering as he drove me towards release with just his mouth wrapped around my nipple.

He lifted his head, his hand gliding between my legs. Pleasure shot through me as two fingers slipped inside me. “So wet,” he murmured, eyes bright. “Tomorrow after family dinner you’re coming back to my place and I’m going to f*ck you in every room, in every way I can.”

My eyes flew to his, my chest rising and falling rapidly at his words.

“I’m going to make you scream there since you can’t here,” he promised softly, realizing this was also a reminder to be quiet since Ellie was down the hall. “But right now, I’m going to enjoy watching you bite your lip.”

And I did. He pushed inside of me and I swallowed a cry by biting my lip, holding on for dear life as his earlier, slow gentleness disappeared, his groans and grunts against my neck sexy as hell as he pounded me into orgasm.





***





I felt a little more relaxed for my bar shift on Saturday night. Braden did me a favor and gave me space—he, Ellie, Jenny, Ed, Adam and a couple more of their friends I didn’t know so well, headed out for dinner and drinks. I was invited to the dinner part of the evening, but I didn’t feel ready to be in a social situation just yet with Braden, and like I said, I wanted some space.

When I got home from work he wasn’t there, and when I woke up, I was alone.

Even Ellie gave me space.

That meant I actually did some writing. In fact, I wrote a whole chapter of my contemporary novel, and I only took one panic attack. But it was so short it barely counted, and once I got past the initial panic, I was able to deal with the memory of my mother telling me how scary it had been to come to the States alone, but how liberating it had felt to do it. Best of it all, I knew that feeling. I could write that feeling well. And I did.

“You know you should have a typewriter.”

I spun around in my computer chair at the familiar voice, gazing up at Braden lounging in my doorway in his jeans and t-shirt. It was raining outside. He should really have a sweater on. Or jumper. Another weird word we’d discussed when he was dressing to leave me yesterday. What the hell was a jumper anyway? My mom had never been able to give me an answer that made sense, and Braden had just smiled at me like he thought I was cute. I was never cute. “A typewriter?”

He nodded, eyeing my laptop. “Just seems more authentic, no?”

“Well, my mom promised to buy me one for Christmas, but she died before she could.”

I froze.

My heart sped up as my words echoed back at me.

Why did I tell him that?

Braden’s gaze sharpened at my reaction and then he shrugged. “You’d only end up with a bunch of wasted paper if you had a typewriter.”

He was giving me an out. My smile was a little weak as I replied, “Hey, I have good typing skills.”

“It’s not the only thing you’re good at.” He grinned lasciviously as he wandered into the room.

“Oh you have no idea.”

He chuckled and I thought he was coming over to kiss me. To my surprise he walked around the bed to my bedside table and he picked up the photograph of my parents. “This your mum?”

I looked away, my shoulders tensing up. “Yeah.”

“You look like her, but you’ve got your dad’s coloring. She was beautiful, Jocelyn.”

Pain dug its claws into my chest. “Thanks,” I mumbled getting up, my back to him as I headed towards the door. “So what are you doing here?”

I heard his footsteps quicken behind me and felt his arm come around me, his palm flat to my stomach as he pulled me back against him, my head resting on his chest. I was quickly getting used to Braden’s tactility. The man liked to touch me. All the time. I’d thought it would be harder to get accustomed to since I wasn’t really an overly affectionate person myself, but Braden didn’t really ask me whether I wanted to be hauled into his arms every five seconds.

And the truth was, I didn’t really mind it.

Another surprise.

His breath whispered across my ear as he bent his head to murmur in it, “I thought I’d come by and pick you and Ellie up for family dinner. Make sure you turned up. Wouldn’t want you to miss the after dinner dessert at my place later.”

I relaxed as we returned to familiar ground, turning my cheek to catch his lips with mine. “Wouldn’t want that either.”

“Okay, gross,” Ellie’s voice broke us apart. She stood before us in the hallway. “Could you close the door when your friends with benefiting each other?”

I pulled out of Braden’s arms. “What are you, twelve?”

She stuck her tongue out at me and I laughed, swatting her playfully on the ass as I passed her to get my shoes. I was just shoving my feet into my favorite boots when someone’s cell rang.

“Hullo,” I heard Braden answer and turned around to watch him walk into the hall past Ellie. He had his serious face on. “What? Now?” He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he shot me ‘a look’. “No. It’s fine. I’ll be there soon.” He slipped his phone back into his back pocket with a frustrated groan. “That was Darren. Family problems. He can’t do his shift today at Fire and I’ve got a Sunday delivery coming in, as well as a guest DJ tonight, and he can’t get anyone who knows what they’re doing to cover for him. I have to take care of it.” His eyes held mine for a moment and I saw the frustration deepen.

“You’re missing another family dinner?” Ellie grumbled. “Mum’s going to love that.”

“Tell her I’m sorry.” Braden shrugged regretfully, eyes still on me. “Looks like tonight is out.”

Oh yes. His plans for me at his apartment. I felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment as I grinned at him. “Oh well.”

“Don’t look too disappointed.” He threw me a sardonic smile. “We’ll just have to arrange some time this week.”

“Um,” Ellie stepped between us, “Can you not schedule whatever this is that’s going on between you in front of me, please?”

Smirking, Braden leaned down and gave Ellie a quick peck on the cheek. “Els.” And then he walked past me. “Jocelyn.” He gave my hand a squeeze, his thumb trailing softly along the back of my hand before he let go and kept walking right on out the front door.

I stared after him, even once he was gone. What had that been? The hand thing? I looked down at my hand, the skin still tingling from where he’d caressed it. That hadn’t felt very friends with benefitty.

“Just sex.”

“What?” I looked up at Ellie who was staring at me incredulously. “What?” I repeated.

“Just sex.” She shook her head and grabbed her jacket. “If you two want to believe that, then it’s none of my business.”

Ignoring her and the ominous churning in my gut, I shrugged into my own jacket and followed her out the door.





***





“What are you doing here?”

I’d collided into the back of Ellie in the doorway of her mother’s sitting room so I didn’t know who she was asking, accusingly, that question of.

“Your mum invited me.”

Ah, Adam. I peered around Ellie to see him sitting on Elodie and Clark’s couch with Declan beside him. They were watching soccer together. Clark was reading a newspaper. Clearly not a soccer fan.

“My mum invited you?” Ellie strode into the room, her arms crossed over her chest. “When?”

“Yesterday,” Elodie’s voice trilled behind us, and we turned to see her and Hannah walk in carrying glasses of soda. “What’s with the attitude?”

Ellie glowered at Adam who grinned back up at her, unrepentant. “Nothing.”

“Adam, you’re missing it.” Declan pulled on the sleeve of Adam’s light blue sweater that did great things for his body. No wonder he and Braden got laid so easily. Together the two of them were like a GQ ad.

“Sorry, bud.” He gave Ellie a teasingly solemn look. “Sorry, can’t talk. We’re watching the football.”

“Better watch you don’t get a football rammed up your arse,” Ellie muttered under her breath, but both Adam and I heard her. He laughed, shaking his head as he turned back to the screen.

“What’s funny?” Elodie smiled sweetly, completely unaware of the tension between her daughter and Adam as she handed everyone a glass of Coke.

“Ellie said a bad word,” Declan replied.

Okay, so Adam, me and Declan were the only ones to hear.

“Ellie, he hears everything,” Elodie complained.

Ellie scowled, throwing herself onto an armchair. I thought it was best to give her some support since Adam being here had clearly thrown her for a loop, so I perched beside her on the arm of the chair. Ellie sighed. “I’m sure he’s heard worse at school.”

Declan grinned at his mom. “I have.”

Clark sniggered into his paper.

Elodie shot her a husband a suspicious look before turning back to Ellie. “That’s no excuse to speak that way in front of him.”

“I just said ‘arse’.”

Declan snorted.

“Ellie!”

She rolled her eyes. “Mum, it’s not a big deal.”

“It really isn’t,” Declan agreed. “I’ve heard way worse.”

“Why did you say arse?” Hannah asked serenely from the other couch.

Clark choked on a laugh as he turned a page of the paper, still refusing to look up.

“Hannah!” Elodie spun around to glare down at her. “Young ladies don’t use bad language.”

Hannah shrugged. “It’s just arse, mum.”

“I was calling Adam an arse,” Ellie explained to her little sister. “Because he is an arse.”

Elodie looked like she was about to explode. “Would everyone stop saying arse!”

“I know,” I blew out an exaggerated breath of exasperation. “It’s called an ass, people. Ass.”

Clark and Adam burst out laughing and I shrugged apologetically to Elodie, smiling sweetly at her. She rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. “I’m going to check the dinner.”

“Do you need help?” I asked politely.

“No, no. My ass can handle itself in the kitchen, thank you very much.”

Chuckling, I watched her leave and then looked down at Ellie with a wide grin. “Now I understand why you don’t curse a lot.”

“So why is Adam an arse?” Hannah persisted.

Ellie stood up, shooting the man in question a dirty look. “I think the question is: when isn’t he an arse?” And then she stormed off after her mother.

Adam’s gaze followed her out the room, his eyes no longer laughing. He turned back to me. “I messed up.”

Understatement of the year. “I guess you did.”

I could feel Clark’s eyes on us as Adam sighed, and when I looked over at Ellie’s stepdad I could see he wasn’t amused anymore. His gaze was burning into Adam with a million questions, and I got the impression he was putting two and two together.

Time to divert his attention. “So Hannah, did you read the books I recommended?”

Her eyes lit up as she nodded. “They were amazing. I’ve been looking up more dystopian books since.”

“You’ve got Hannah reading dystopian novels?” Adam asked with surprise, smiling at me.

“Yes.”

“She’s fourteen.”

“Well, these are written for fourteen year olds. Anyway, I was taught 1984 when I was fourteen.”

“George Orwell,” Clark muttered.

I grinned. “Not a fan?”

“Hannah’s reading Animal Farm for English,” he said, as if that explained it.

Hannah was smiling, a little twinkle of devilment in her eyes that reminded me of Ellie. “I’m reading it out loud to mum and dad so they can help me.”

In other words, she was torturing her mum and dad for fun. She and Ellie really were full of surprises. Angels with dirty faces, as they saying goes.

A few minutes later we were sitting around the table, Ellie and Elodie bickering unintelligibly.

“I just said you looked pale.” Elodie eventually sighed as she took her seat with the rest of us.

“Which translates into ‘you look like crap’.”

“I never said that. I asked why you’re pale?”

“I have a headache.” She shrugged, her shoulders tense, her lips and brow pinched.

“Another one?” Adam asked, his eyes narrowed on her.

What did he mean another one? “You’ve had more than one?”

Adam looked angry now, his concern for Ellie bordering on majorly pissed off. “She’s had a few. I’ve told her to get it checked.”

Ellie glowered back at him. “I was at the doctors on Friday. The doctor thinks I need glasses.”

“You should have made an appointment weeks ago.”

“Well, I made it this week!”

“You don’t take care of yourself. You’re running yourself ragged at the university.”

“I do take care of myself. In fact, I was taking care of myself on Friday night but someone ruined my downtime.”

“He was an arse.”

Elodie cleared her throat meaningfully.

Adam held up an apologetic hand. “He was a butt.”

Declan and Hannah giggled. Maybe I did too.

“You don’t even know him. And thanks to you, I never will.”

“Stop changing the subject. I told you to make an appointment with the doctor’s office weeks ago.”

“You’re not my dad.”

“You’re being a child.”

“I’m being a child. Listen to you. He was a butt? What the hell, Adam? You’re making my headache worse.”

He frowned, and lowered his voice. “I’m just worried about you.”

Oh he was worried about her alright. I tilted my head to the side, watching him. God, he was looking at her like James looked at Rhian.

Was Adam in love with Ellie?

I stifled the urge to throw my fork at him and tell him to man up. If he cared about her, he should just be with her. What was so difficult about that?





***





“I would think you of all people would understand what was so difficult about that?” Dr. Pritchard frowned at me.

And I would know this… how? “Um… what?”

“You cared about Kyle Ramsey.”

I felt the knot in my stomach appear as it always did when I thought about him. “He was just a boy.”

“Who you didn’t want to care about because of Dru.”

Shit. She was right. I hung my head in my pain. “Then Adam’s doing the right thing, isn’t he? Braden would just get hurt. Like Dru did.”

“You didn’t kill Dru, Joss.”

I drew in a breath. “I wasn’t the bullet, no. But I was the trigger.” I looked the good doctor in the eye. “It’s still my fault.”

“One day, you’re going to realize that it wasn’t.”





***





After Sunday dinner at Elodie’s where Ellie and Adam acted as our entertainment, I was kind of exhausted watching them by the time we got home. A still not feeling well, and still pissed off, Ellie disappeared into her room and didn’t come out.

I, on the other hand, sat at my computer and started to write.

My phone beeped and I picked it up to find I had a text message from Braden.

I forgot how nice and big my office desk is at the club. I definitely need to f*ck you on it.

I shook my head, my lips curled upwards as I text back. Luckily for you, I can work with nice and big.

I got an instant text back. I know ;)

For some reason, Braden texting me a winky face made me grin like an idiot. For someone who was seriously intimidating when he wanted to be, he was also incredibly playful.

So when do you want to schedule me in for office desk sex? Let me know so I can pencil you in. My sex diary is filling up pretty fast here.

When he didn’t reply after five minutes, I bit my lip, remembering how serious he’d been about the whole ‘not sharing me’ thing.

I text him again. It was a joke, Braden. Lighten up.

I didn’t think he was going to reply, and was trying not to worry if I’d said the wrong thing— this whole f*ck buddy thing wasn’t quite as stress-free as I’d been led to believe—when my phone beeped five minutes later. Hard to tell with you sometimes. Speaking of hard…

I was caught between laughing and scowling. What did he mean it was hard to tell with me sometimes? Deciding it best to let it go, since he was joking again, I text back … wood floor?

No…

… back book?

Think more anatomical…

… intestines?

OK, you just took the sexy out of it.

I laughed out loud, quickly texting him back. Last text. I’m working on my novel. I’ll see you and your hard cock on your nice and big office desk for sex later.

Good luck with the writing, babe. x

The kiss freaked me out.

Better to pretend it was a smiley face. Just a smiley face…

My phone rang in the middle of my freak out over one little kiss. It was Rhian.

“Hey,” I answered breathily, still thinking about the little kiss and what it meant.

“Are you okay?” Rhian asked warily. “You sound… weird.”

“I’m fine. What’s up?”

“Just checking in. We haven’t spoken in a while.”

I took a deep breath. “I’m screwing Ellie’s brother. How are you and James?”