I’m grinning the entire morning. On the way to work with Braxton, I couldn’t stop smiling. During our morning briefing, during my client visit, all the way to lunch, I couldn’t stop smiling. The man I like, admitted he is falling for me last night.
How can I not be crazy happy right now?
“You, girl, have got it bad,” Marta accuses over lunch.
I sit back in my chair and shrug my shoulders, still smiling like an idiot. “I’m happy, alright?” I retort and she laughs.
“I can see that! The world can see that! I know you’re trying to keep your relationship on the D-L (down low), but do you not think that people are going to be suspicious of both you and Braxton coming into work, smiling like the Cheshire cat?”
I frown. I hadn’t thought of that. Braxton has been oddly chipper this morning, too. Maybe people will put two and two together. I sigh and nudge my food around my plate with my fork.
“Once I’m sure that this is going somewhere, we’ll tell people. For now, we can just be something gossiped about in the rumour mill.”
“So, if someone comes up to me and asks if you two are a thing?”
“Tell them you don’t know, please.”
“What if someone asks me if Braxton is single because they want to ask him out? It’s happened before.”
I scrunch my nose up at the memory of Braxton being asked on a date and declining it for me. “Okay, maybe say that you’ve heard he’s seeing someone,” I begrudgingly reply.
Marta chuckles. “You got it, girl. I’ll keep them away from your man.”
A week passes. Braxton and I go on another three dates, each ending with a heavy make-out session and me saying goodnight.
The following Friday, we book the rib-shack, seeing as it had been fully booked the week before. Despite the fact that we’re going out for dinner together that evening, Braxton, and I also have lunch together on Friday. We get stir-fry’s and walk to the park. We find our bench and get comfy, eating our lunch together. Our conversation covers a lot of topics, but we end up discussing last night.
“I meant what I said, you know,” Braxton says sincerely, and I smile at him.
“I know. Why do you think I haven’t stopped smiling all morning?” I answer teasingly.
“Oh, that’s what that was? I just thought you had gas,” he replies cheekily.
I gasp in fake-horror and shove his shoulder.
“Whoa, woman! Watch the food!” He protests as he tries to hold his stir-fry pot more securely.
We both laugh, enjoying each other’s company. When I look over at him, he’s already watching me with an amused smile on his beautiful face.
“I’m sorry for freaking out,” I apologise to him, referring to our regular kiss-and-me-stop-when-it-goes-too-far routine.
He shakes his head at me. “Never apologise for how you feel, I’m just happy you are honest with me.”
How is he so perfect? How does he tick every single bloody box?
“Well, I’m still sorry. I feel better now that we’ve spoken about it. I’m ready to open up to you more, now that you’ve told me that you are feeling the same way.”
He grins mischievously and leans close to me, so that he can whisper in my ear. “What do you mean by ‘open up’ exactly?” He asks naughtily.
I huff in disbelief and push him back. He glares at me when his pot nearly falls out of his hand again. “We’ve talked about this, Wynter. Watch the damn food,” he snaps playfully.
He shoves the last of his stir-fry into his mouth, finishing it off before I can potentially knock it on the floor. I reach around him and put my pot in the bin.
“We’ve talked about this too, King,” I reply sassily. “Stop being sexual in the workplace.”
Braxton gives me a deadpan look and gestures to the park around us. “In the workplace? Melia, we’re in the park.”
“Yes, but we’re on work time! So, no talking about me opening up.”
I can feel how red my cheeks are and it seems to amuse a chuckling Braxton.
“Sorry, baby. Am I embarrassing you?” He asks teasingly and I bat away his hands when he tries to reach for me.
He grabs me anyway and drags me onto his lap, right in the middle of the park, with lots of people going by. I bury my face in his neck to avoid their gazes. “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable,” he murmurs in my ear. “You know that you do things to me, I lose any rational thought and act like a horny teenager again.” I giggle at that, and he playfully pinches my side in reprimand. “We go at your pace. We only do what you’re comfortable with. Just know that, whenever you’re ready, I’ll be more than happy to take things further.”
I roll my eyes at his comment. “Thanks, I think I’m well aware of how ready you are.”
“I can’t help myself; you’re so tempting.” Braxton chuckles and kisses my forehead. “But seriously, Melia, whenever it may be, even if it’s not for months, I swear to you, it will be worth the wait.”
I pull back, putting some distance between us so that I can look him in the eyes. “You’re rather cocky, Mr King,” I tell him, and he shakes his head.
“Not cocky, confident. I know what I’m good at, Miss Wynter,” he responds. “And from what our chemistry is like in the office, I can’t even begin to imagine what it’ll be like in the bedroom.”
My cheeks flame up even redder and he bursts out laughing. He holds me close to his chest and kisses my forehead again. “You are so fucking hot and adorable at the same time, it’s the best combination,” he compliments me.
His compliment does not help with calming down my cheeks.
6:15PM comes around very quickly. I check my reflection one last time in the hallway mirror. I pat down my blonde locks and straighten my skin-tight dress. Considering we’re going to the rib-shack tonight, maybe wearing such a tight dress wasn’t a smart idea. But I’m hoping the walk home will help with any bloating.
I run to my bedroom to spray some perfume and grab my handbag. As I step out of my room, Braxton knocks on the door. I hurriedly put on my heels and answer the door.
This is our third date. I shouldn’t be surprised by how hot he looks, but I just can’t get used to it. This man never fails to blow me away.
“Whoa, you look incredible!” He greets me. “I got you something.”
He produces a small bunch of calla lilies.
“Gosh, they’re gorgeous, thank you,” I gush as he hands them to me. I pop into the kitchen to put them in water and return with something for him. “I got you something, you mentioned that it’s your favourite.”
I hand him the bar of chocolate that took me almost half an hour to track down. His eyes widen as he reads the label. “Where did you manage to get one of these? I’ve been looking everywhere!”
The excitement on his face makes me giggle. “I’ll admit, it took some time. I managed to track them down in a newsagents about fifteen minutes from here. You know, one of those corner-shops that has every chocolate bar from every place in the world?”
Braxton carefully tucks the chocolate into his blazer pocket and leans forwards to place a soft kiss on my lips. “You have no idea how sweet that is, thank you,” he says warmly.
He takes my hand, and we leave for the restaurant.
Ten minutes into our twenty-minute walk, my feet are a little uncomfortable in my heels. Luckily, Braxton and I talk continuously, which distracts me from the pinching.
The meal is a great success. Despite being called the rib-shack, Braxton, and I both have steak and they’re amazing. We talk animatedly and eat everything on our plates.
I used to whine when Mark and I got takeaways, yet I’m here eating steak with Braxton. The difference is, I know that Braxton will be going to the gym with me tomorrow to work this off. We both go after work, too. Also, Mark would have ordered extra chips. Braxton and I share one portion of chips. We enjoy high-calorie food, but in moderation.
Halfway through the walk home, I can’t contain my discomfort anymore. I stop and step to one side on the pavement. I take off my heels and sigh with relief. A look of concern is on Braxton’s face.
“Baby, you should have told me they were hurting you! We could have got a taxi,” he protests.
I wave him off. “Don’t worry about it, just give me a sec and I’ll be ready to carry on.”
Braxton ignores me. He picks up my shoes and hands them to me. I frown but take them. Then he bends his knees and picks me up. I squeak with surprise and instantly put my arms around his neck, dropping the heels in my lap.
“I’ll carry you the rest of the way home,” he announces and starts walking.
“No! Braxton, put me down! You’re not carrying me for ten minutes, I’ve just eaten, I’m so heavy!”
He ignores my protests completely and continues walking. I try to squirm out of his grip, but he holds on tightly.
“Why am I getting déjà vu?” I mutter.
Braxton smirks. “Because this isn’t the first time I’ve swept you off of your feet, baby.”
Unbelievably, Braxton carries me the whole way to our lift. I feel relieved when he finally puts me down in the elevator and he can shake out his arms.
“That was insane. You really didn’t have to do that, but thank you,” I tell him gratefully.
He shrugs. “Anytime, baby.”
I unlock the door to my flat and step into the hallway. Braxton hesitates at the doorway, obviously trying to decide whether to come in or not. I want to let him know I’m not panicking anymore. He’s told me how he feels and now, I feel safer with him. I need to let him know I’m ready for the next step.
I grab his blazer lapels and pull him into the foyer, kicking the door shut behind him. His eyes widen in surprise, but he catches himself when he stumbles forwards. Giving him a second to recover, I then press my lips to his. I kiss him urgently, nudging his tongue with mine. He responds just as strongly, his hands moving straight to my waist.
I dig my fingers into his hair and scrape my nails gently across his scalp. He groans and pushes me back against the wall. The kiss becomes more heated as our bodies press against each other. I can feel his large erection, pressing against my belly. I reach down and stroke him through his jeans. He grunts against my mouth and squeezes his hands on my waist.
Our kiss becomes more frantic as our desire spikes. I want him naked, but I know I shouldn’t rush things. I stick to teasing him through his jeans.
Braxton’s hand moves lower, and he lifts my thigh for me to wrap my leg around his waist. His hand slides up my thigh, underneath my dress. He moves slowly, giving me plenty of time to stop him. My heart rate quickens as he moves closer to the junction between my legs. The sweet anticipation builds and I almost sigh into the kiss when his finger finally strokes my pussy, over my thong.
I break the kiss as he strokes his finger over my lower lips again. “Braxton,” I moan his name quietly.
He smirks down at me. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he says huskily.