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Chapter Eleven


Melia’s POV.

The conference goes really well. We meet with all of our suppliers. We get to taste their new products and place some provisory orders. We even find some new suppliers and we check out the competition. Braxton and I flirt blatantly the entire weekend, but still no kiss.

When he drops me off at my flat on Sunday, I’m tempted to just lean in and initiate one, but my fucking phone rings. It’s my mother, checking on me. She has no idea how bad her timing is.

The good news is work decides to throw a Halloween party the following Friday. Marta and I walk to the fancy-dress shop after work one day and get ourselves some outfits.

“You have to kiss at the party, it’ll be like you’re in school again!” She squeals excitedly.

“I know, you’re right. We’re long overdue a kiss and the more it’s put off, the more nervous I’m getting.”


Due to the last-minute timing of the party, it has to be at work. All venues are booked up this close to Halloween. I dress up, rather unoriginally, as an angel. I choose a full white outfit, heels, stockings, dress, wings, and halo. All white. Knowing me, I’ll probably spill something on the dress within about two minutes of being at the party.

I wear a long, black coat on my walk to walk from my apartment. Braxton offered to walk with me, but he was ready long before I was, and I didn’t want to make him wait. The party is in full swing by the time that I arrive.

The office with all of our desks has been locked up so that everyone is contained to the kitchen, where drinks and food is served, and the conference room. Usually it is two rooms, but the removable wall separating the two has been folded back. All of the furniture has been pushed to the sides of the room to make space for everyone. There’s twenty-two members of the Sales department, twenty-three including Brad, the boss. People were allowed to bring plus-ones, so there’s almost forty people here.

The music is loud, and the lights have been dimmed. Terrible decorations hang from ceiling panels, and everyone is drinking out of cheap orange pumpkin cups, but it’s kind of nice.

I get myself a drink from the kitchen and find Marta. We stand to one side and discuss everyone’s outfits, because that’s what friends do.

I catch sight of Braxton and my heart beats a little faster. How fitting: he’s dressed as the devil. We didn’t even plan this.

Wearing black jeans, a red, muscle-fit t-shirt, and red horns, he hasn’t made much of an effort. But he doesn’t have to. He looks hot as hell, and I want to do naughty things with him that will get us both a one-way ticket downwards. He catches me watching him and grins at me. After finishing his conversation, he approaches us.

Marta conveniently finishes her drink (after suddenly downing it) and excuses herself for a refill. She’s not exactly subtle, but she’s a damn good wing woman.

Braxton looks me up and down. My body heats under his intense gaze. His eyes linger on my short dress, focussing on the few inches of my tanned thighs that are visible between my stockings and dress hem. He drags his gaze up to meet my eyes and he smirks. He leans close to me, so that I can hear him clearly over the music.

“It seems we’re meant to be, Wynter. I had no idea you were going to come as an angel,” he says honestly, a smile playing on his lips.

I smile back. “I didn’t know you were coming as the devil. Did the invitation ask you to come as you are?”

He grins at my teasing remark. “Your innocent act isn’t fooling me, baby,” he replies. “I bet you’ve done lots of naughty things in your life.” My cheeks heat up at his words, this makes him laugh. He looks so attractive when he laughs. “You’re so easy to tease, Melia.”

He reaches out for a strand of my blonde hair and rolls it between his fingers. He steps closer and his lips brush the shell of my ear as he whispers into it. “Do you want to go somewhere more private? So that we can hear each other better?”

Sure. Acoustics. That’swhy he wants to go somewhere ‘private’.

I smirk at him. “You’re not fooling anyone, King.” I turn his words around on him and he grins.

He shrugs at me. “Okay, how about another drink then?”

I decide that I need to take the plunge eventually. I slip my hand into Braxton’s, surprising him, and lead him out of the room. We walk down the corridor and go past the kitchen. I drop my empty cup into the bin and Braxton does the same. We go a little ways down the empty corridor to the stairwell. I turn around to face him and cross my arms over my chest.

“This is more private,” I tell him. “What do you wanna talk about?”

He smirks. He takes a step towards me, and I take a step back. My back hits the wall and I look up at him hesitantly. His smirk deepens. Braxton places his hands on the wall on either side of my hand, effectively caging me in.

Oh, fuck. This is hot. He’s hot. How is he so hot? Oh, wait, I know how.

He’s a 6”2 wall of muscle with a good sense of humour, confidence and intelligence.

He licks his lips, and my eyes drop to his mouth reflexively. His lips are so fucking inviting, it is unreal.

“What do you want to talk about? Because right now, I’ve got a million things I want to do with you, and none of them involve talking,” he murmurs huskily.

Oh, shit. I’m in serious danger of soaking through my panties.

I swallow hard and part my lips, trying to find my voice so that I can reply. We both abruptly turn our heads at the sound of Brad and someone else coming down the adjoining corridor. For some reason, I panic and don’t want him to see us together. My eyes land on the janitor’s closet behind Braxton and I usher him into it. We stumble inside and shut the door behind us.

It gives me Princess Diaries 2 vibes.

There’s no proper light in here, but there is a green emergency one on the ceiling that allows me to see the outline of Braxton’s face. Braxton’s face is filled with amusement as he tries not to laugh.

He leans in close so that he can whisper conspiratorially. “Care to explain to me why we are in a closet?” He asks, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice.

I blush at his closeness and teasing.

Fuck, he smells good.

He always smells good. But I’m not usually trapped in a such a small space with him.

“I panicked, alright? Brad was coming and I didn’t want to him to see us in such a comprising position.”

Braxton grins at my response. He puts his hands on my shoulders and turns me around. He pushes me backwards as I frown, wondering what he is doing. My back presses against the door and he moves his hands from my shoulders to the door, beside my head. I realise he is recreating our position from the hallway. I look up at him and swallow hard. I don’t think I need to wait for us to get into the bedroom to see Braxton’s sex eyes. The ones he is looking at me with right now are enough to soak my thong.

“What could possibly be compromising about this position?” He asks cheekily.

I don’t reply. My eyes are still on his lips. They twitch upwards and I flick my gaze up to his eyes. He gives me time to pull away, but I don’t. He closes the distance between us, and our lips finally touch. Excitement rushes through my body and I eagerly press myself against him. He presses back, pinning me to the door. His hands move to hold my face.

He kisses me until I’m breathless. His kiss is consuming, he completely takes over. His lips are soft but so demanding, they tempt and tease me. He nips my bottom lip playfully with his teeth. When he pulls back, we’re both breathing a little heavier.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “I knew it would be good, Wynter, but I didn’t know it would feel that good.”

His comment makes me so happy. To know that he is feeling this just as strongly as me makes me giddy inside.

All of a sudden, the handle turns, and the door opens. I fall back with it, having been resting my full weight on it. Braxton acts fast and catches me. He stumbles forward a few steps but keeps a strong hold on me and doesn’t let me fall.

We right ourselves and look accusingly at whoever opened the door. Tiffany, one of the sales girls, is stood there with her boyfriend.

“Oops! I’m so sorry, we didn’t know it was occupied,” she apologises quickly. “We were looking for somewhere...more private.” She winks at me and giggles.

“It’s okay, feel free to use it, we’re done,” I mutter quickly. I take Braxton’s hand and we step out of the closet.

“Are you sure? I hope we didn’t interrupt anything,” Tiffany says with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She looks back and forth between Braxton and me.

“It’s fine, go ahead,” I insist.

Tiffany and her boyfriend step into the closet, just as they’re about to close the door, I put my hand out.

“Wait, Tiffany? Please could you keep this to yourself? We haven’t told anyone yet,” I ask her, gesturing at Braxton and me.

She grins. “No problem, your secret is safe with me. You make an adorable couple, by the way.”

My cheeks are burning when she closes the door. I look at Braxton and he bursts out laughing.

“I’ve never been caught making out in a janitor’s closet before.”


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