Chapter 8: All or Nothing: Chapter 7

“God, you skinny bitch, you’re so tan,” I said enviously to Emmy. I was helping her shop for a new sofa, which was why we were currently in New Jersey, courtesy of Ben and Emmy’s driver, at a megahuge furniture store.

She laughed at me and headed past the sectional sofas. “Of course I’m tan; we were on a tropical island for nearly a month. I swear, I don’t know how I lost weight on our honeymoon though. I ate very well—trust me.” She paused to look down critically at a bright orange couch, chewing on her lip. “We did go hiking and surfing, and we had plenty of sex.” She whispered the last part.

“Sex is a great workout,” I agreed. We continued roaming the rows upon rows of couches and love seats. “Any of these standing out to you?”

“What do you think about something like this?” Emmy stood back, admiring a steely gray modern-looking sofa.

It suited her and Ben’s style perfectly. Simple yet classy. “I think that would look great in your place.”

Her smile fell when she checked the price tag. “Never mind.”

I reached down and flipped the tag over to see the price myself. “Emmy,” I chastised her. “It’s not that expensive. You forget you’re in a different income bracket now.”

She picked at her fingernails, deciding what to do. After a few moments of thinking it over, she realized I was right. It was as if she were realizing, for the first time, that her life had really changed. She was no longer a single girl in the city struggling to make ends meet. For a moment, the thought struck me with a pang of sadness. I hated the idea that Emmy and I were changing, and the possibility of us growing apart because of our differences. I vowed then and there that I wouldn’t let that happen. I grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I think you should get it, sweetie.”

She nodded, fixing her mouth in a smile. “Yeah, I think I will. And maybe those matching chairs.” She pointed to two armchairs with a geometric pattern that contained splashes of gray and mustard yellow. They were funky and the perfect complement to the solid-colored sofa.

“Definitely,” I confirmed. “And these.” I grabbed a couple of fluffy pillows in a pretty deep plum shade.

Emmy smiled and followed me to the front to check out. “So what’s new with you?”

My secret affair with Braydon had been at the tip of my tongue all day, and I wondered if now was the time to come clean. I summoned my courage while Emmy ordered the couch and chairs and arranged delivery. “I’ve been seeing someone,” I finally said.

“Oh my God, who?” she demanded to know, whipping around to look at me after handing her platinum credit card—complete with her new name—to the sales clerk.

“Um . . .” I swallowed a lump in my throat. “Braydon.”

“Really?” She cocked her head to the side, her eyebrows darting up her forehead. “Braydon? Like, Braydon, Braydon?”

Why was there such shock in her features and surprise in her voice? “The one and only.” I stood my ground, waiting to understand her reaction. “Why?”

She signed the slip of paper and passed it back to the clerk. “Bray doesn’t do relationships. Ben says he’s always been more of a loner.”

Hearing her nickname for him irked me. I wasn’t sure why, but I frowned. I never said anything about a relationship. “Well, we’re not, like, openly dating,” I said, dropping my voice so the sales clerk couldn’t overhear. “We sort of have an . . . arrangement.”

Emmy’s mouth puckered in a grimace. “What kind of arrangement?”

Shit. She was going to make me say it. We meet up for sex at my apartment. I accepted the shopping bag of pillows from the clerk and turned for the door. “Come on. I’ll explain over lunch.”

Emmy’s unease was obvious as Henry, her driver, drove us to a seafood restaurant for lunch. But thankfully she respected my privacy and didn’t ask any more questions in his presence. Only when we were seated with glasses of iced tea and a basket of buttery rolls did we pick up our conversation again.

“So . . .” she prompted. “I thought it was just a one-time thing at our wedding reception . . .”

I tore into the bread, needing something to distract me. “Yeah, so did I. But we’ve begun meeting up again.”

“And . . .”

“And he’s made it very clear that he isn’t looking for a relationship—we’re just having fun and exploring the chemistry between us.”

She took a sip from her straw. “I think that’s fine as long as you’re on the same page, too.”

Yeah, that was part of the problem. I was back and forth with our agreement. I let out a soft sigh and Emmy reached across the table and gave my hand a gentle squeeze, recognition passing between us. She knew me well enough to know that it wasn’t an ideal situation. It was also similar to how her relationship with Ben had begun.

Changing the topic, we chatted about her honeymoon and placed our orders, but all the while the topic of Braydon hung heavily in the air between us.

“Have you ever been to Braydon’s place?” I asked out of the blue.

She shook her head. “No, Ben’s only been there a couple of times. He’s pretty private.”

That definitely fit with what Braydon had told me about himself. Still, I was surprised that even Ben, his best friend, had hardly been to his place. It was strange, given how open he was in other ways.

Emmy smiled softly and I stole a shrimp from her plate, trying to lighten the mood. “He really is a good guy, Ells. Just be patient with him, okay?”

I nodded, suddenly feeling irrational and overly emotional. I set the shrimp down uneaten on my plate. “Yeah. I will.” I was powerless to stop this thing developing between me and him. I only wished I knew where it was headed. “Emmy?”

“Hmm?” She set down the piece of bread she was nibbling on.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand.”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“How did you know about Braydon’s piercing?”

Her cheeks flamed red and her eyes dropped from mine to the bread on her plate.

“Em?”

She refused to look back up, and instead sat silently spinning the large diamond ring on her finger.

I didn’t know why my question caused her to shut down. I assumed Braydon himself had let it slip, or maybe, worst-case scenario, she’d somehow caught a glimpse of him in the buff during a quick change in between runway shows.

“Ugh,” Emmy groaned. “Shit. I’ll tell you. Just don’t freak out, okay?”

Whatever she had to say, it couldn’t be that bad, could it? “Okay,” I agreed.

“So . . . in Paris, before Ben and I started dating, we were just sort of having this intense sexual affair.”

“Yes.” I knew that. What did that have to do with Braydon?

“Well, I met Bray one night at an afterparty where Ben had had too much to drink and he helped me get Ben back up to our hotel room.” She paused, trying to let me catch up.

“And what, you and Braydon played I’ll show you mine if you show me yours while Ben was passed out drunk?”

“No. It’s not that simple.”

“Keep going,” I bit out, my jaw tense.

“Are you sure you want to hear this?”

The truth was, I wasn’t sure. “I think I have to.”

She nodded. “Well, late that night, Fiona called Ben’s phone and Ben, in his drunken state, made some comment to Bray. ‘Don’t tell Emmy about Fiona.’ I asked him about it the following day and he admitted to me that he and Braydon had been intimate with Fiona—that they’d shared her.”

Whoa. I knew that type of thing went on behind closed doors, but between my own friends? It only demonstrated how very different the world of high fashion was from my own simple life. I couldn’t believe Braydon had gotten it on with that megabitch who ran one of the top modeling agencies—and Emmy’s former boss. In one conversation with Emmy, I was learning more about Braydon’s sexual past than I had in the time I’d spent with him. This wasn’t territory we’d covered.

“And you know, I was so wrapped up in Ben and I hated his relationship with Fiona.”

I nodded, fearful of where this was heading.

“I felt this strange competitiveness with her and I hated that she’d shared an experience with Ben that I hadn’t. I couldn’t have her one-upping me. I decided if she’d had Ben and Braydon together, then I needed to, too.”

Holy shit! “Emmy . . . what are you saying?” I held my breath.

“Ben arranged the whole thing. We went out to dinner and then back to his hotel room . . .” She paused. “And . . . I went to bed with both of them.”

All the air was vacuumed from my lungs and I let out a gasp of surprise. I felt like someone had sucker-punched me in the gut. What the fuck? “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It was out of character, something I never thought I’d try—and of course I never imagined you’d start dating him.”

I wasn’t dating him, but I was too stunned to correct her. Nothing about this situation seemed within the realm of anything I’d ever imagined from my conservative best friend and her ultra-possessive husband. “How was Ben possibly okay with that? I can’t imagine him agreeing to share you with another man.”

“You have to remember, Ben and I weren’t together at that time—not exclusively. And by agreeing to it, he was trying to convince himself that our relationship was just a sensual fling and nothing more. But after that night, everything changed. That night sparked something in him. He realized that he couldn’t share me, that he wanted me for himself. And for that reason alone, I’m glad I went through with it. Not to mention, he trusts Braydon completely. I think that was part of the reason why he allowed it.”

Wow. There was so much more drama to Ben and Emmy’s relationship than I ever imagined. If they could get their happily ever after, there was hope for all of us.

“Say something, Ells.” Her eyes were pure agony, lines etched into her forehead like she truly felt horrible she’d slept with Braydon and kept it from me. Good. I wanted to let her suffer for a few seconds more.

“It’s so weird to think you know how he is in bed.”

She chewed on her lip. “Yes and no. I’m sure you don’t want to hear all the gory details, but to be honest, I was more focused on Ben during the whole encounter. The sad, haunted look in his eyes is the thing I remember most.”

That filled me with the tiniest amount of relief.

“But yes, trust me,” she continued, “I know Braydon is smoking hot and very talented. I knew he’d make some girl very happy someday. I just wasn’t her.”

I hated that she had firsthand knowledge of just how good he was between the sheets, that she’d seen his sexy piercing. I had to remind myself that they didn’t share the off-the-charts chemistry that he and I did. Their relationship was much more like brother and sister, which made it even weirder. I forced it from my mind. Dwelling on it would amount to nothing good. I could either make it into a big, awkward deal or I could accept that it happened and move on. Man, I needed a glass of wine.

• • •

After learning so many new things from Emmy—that she had had a threesome with Ben and Braydon and that he was, indeed, fiercely private—I decided to test Braydon a little that night. I wanted to see if he’d invite me to his apartment. I was sharing my body, my time, and my bed with this man. I needed to know that we were on equal footing. Emmy was convinced he was a good guy. We’d see about that. Plus it’d provide a private place for us to talk—if I was brave enough to ask him about his adventures in Paris with Ben and Emmy. I still hadn’t decided about that.

I dialed his number and waited while it rang. Braydon answered on the third ring. “Hey, kitten.”

“Hi there. Got any plans tonight?” I tried to sound easygoing and light. I didn’t want to seem too demanding or pushy. At least not straightaway. But I was hoping to get my way.

“If I did, I’d cancel them for a chance to see your sweet ass.”

He could be so sweet and playful when he wanted to. “Actually, I had something in mind. . . .” I let the rest of my thought go unvoiced—a subtle attempt to entice him.

“Hmm. I like that. I’ll come over.”

“No, I haven’t cleaned,” I blurted out, losing some of my nerve.

“I don’t care about that. I’m not coming over to inspect the vacuum lines in your carpet. I’m coming to see you.”

“Yes, but I’m sick of my place. I’d rather go out—or really anywhere but here. How about your place?” I needed to take a stand. We’d only ever met up at my apartment. I crossed my index and middle fingers, awaiting his response. He’d either open up and share a piece of himself with me or he’d blow me off. I had to know.

Braydon was silent for a moment. “I’ll get us a hotel room—downtown if you like.”

I was completely thrown off by his suggestion. A part of me wanted to argue, but the prospect of not seeing him forced an answer from me before I could think it through. “Sure, why not.”

“Great. I’ll text you the hotel and room number. Hop in a cab, babe.”

“See you soon.”

As soon as I hung up the phone I regretted agreeing to his offer. True, I’d said that I wanted to get out of my apartment, but meeting up at a hotel for sex was worse than being in my own space. And I was left wondering, more than ever, why Braydon wouldn’t let me into his apartment.

After he texted me the details, I hopped in a cab for the hotel. The bellman pulled open the large glass doors and I entered a decadent lobby with stone floors and crystal chandeliers hanging high above. It made me miss my little apartment and cuddling on my couch with Bray. This made our arrangement feel like something else entirely. I didn’t like it. But I entered the elevator and rode up to the seventh floor, conflicted by my intense desire to see him. When I reached the room and knocked, the door was quickly pulled open.

Braydon stood before me in jeans, a white T-shirt, and bare feet. “You made it.” He smiled warmly, like this was completely normal. We both had homes in this city. Why were we at a hotel?

“I’m here,” I said, my voice devoid of all excitement. Though I was happy to see him and his smile, my head was spinning like a record. Heading inside, I realized he’d rented a suite. It seemed a little over the top for just one night, and I suddenly found myself wondering about his income. Ben certainly made a good living modeling. It appeared Braydon did, too. Not that it mattered to me. I was just curious to learn all I could about this man and his life.

Braydon had set out a bottle of wine and two glasses on the coffee table. “Would you like a glass?” he asked, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist.

“Sure,” I said, trying to sound agreeable. But something about tonight, about being here, felt off. Maybe it was just the sting of rejection that he hadn’t invited me over. Either way, I decided I would let it go for now and try to enjoy the evening. Despite the weirdness, it was clear he wanted to be with me. I didn’t want to overanalyze that aspect of the situation.

We sat together on the sofa and enjoyed a glass of wine. Braydon filled me in on the photo shoot he’d had earlier with two female models and a live boa constrictor. The women were completely comfortable with the snake and Braydon was the one terrified of the thing, which sent me into a fit of laughter.

“It was longer than the room we were in. Seriously, it’s not funny, kitten. It wound itself around my thigh and I about pissed myself.”

“Aw, poor baby. Sounds like a tough job.” I patted his knee. “Do you need me to make it all better?”

A slow smile curled up his mouth. “That sounds tempting. But not yet. You seem wound up and I need to get you relaxed first.” He grinned.

I sipped my wine and looked out at the twinkling city lights below, relishing the moment but also feeling totally confused by it. Our encounters always felt more like romance than a casual arrangement, and it was totally confusing my heart. I didn’t want to sit here, drinking wine and watching his gorgeous eyes sparkle while he told me amusing stories, making me fall deeper under his spell. I came into this agreement thinking it’d be more of a wham, bam, thank you ma’am situation. And so far it had been anything but. Real feelings were starting to develop and I had no idea if he felt the same way. His hesitation to bring me to his apartment tonight told me probably not. Some girls might think a hotel room was a special date night, but I wasn’t that delusional. First, this wasn’t a date. It was a private room with a bed where Braydon could fulfill the obligations of the arrangement I was seriously starting to question. Was I insane? Why had I agreed to this?

Then Braydon changed everything. He looked over at me, his gaze darkening with his desire, and I felt like the most beautiful woman in the world. I was addicted to that feeling. This beautiful man wanted me. Me. I would give in to my desires tonight. Even if I woke up confused again in the morning.

He moved with the stealth of a panther, slowly setting down his wineglass and turning his body to mine. My heart thumped unevenly and my hands clutched the stem of my glass, desperately needing something to hold on to. Braydon’s fingers found mine and he removed the glass from my grasp, setting it with his on the table. “Come here.” Taking my hand, he pulled me from the couch. I rose on shaky legs and stood before him. Seeing him dressed so casually, with his bare feet and playful smirk, made me weak in the knees.

I allowed Braydon to lead me into the adjoining bedroom. A large bed dressed in white linens beckoned us, but Braydon released my hand and sat down on the edge and hung his head in his hands.

“Bray?” I carefully stepped closer, wondering what had changed in the course of thirty seconds.

He lifted his head and the crease I saw in his brow was unexpected. I’d never seen him be anything but cool and easygoing. “Do you even want this?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“This arrangement—is it what you want? I hate thinking I’ve lured you into something against your will.”

I hadn’t done anything I didn’t want to do. That much was true. I sat down on the edge of the bed beside him and considered how to answer. The truth was I wanted more, but something told me if I pushed him right now, I’d lose him. He was giving me what he was capable of, and he wanted reassurance that I accepted him and all his limitations. He must have picked up on my contemplative mood out in the living room. “Yes, I want this. I want a real relationship someday, but I know you’re not looking for anything steady. I’m not going to let that stop us from hanging out. I like our time together.”

His eyes lifted to mine and the little crease in his forehead disappeared. “I do, too.”

“Good.” It felt strange that I was the one reassuring him about this when I myself felt anything but confident. We had an amazing connection that translated into so much more than just sex. Maybe in time he would see that. I just needed to be patient and go with the flow. Two things I wasn’t good at. I scooted a little closer and Braydon brought his hand to my cheek, lovingly stroking my jaw and tucking my hair behind my ear so he could lean down and kiss my neck. His tenderness was unexpected and calmed me instantly. It was crazy how one minute he could rile me up, and then in the next render me speechless.

His soft kisses and the warmth of his mouth instantly brought me back to the moment. His hot tongue licked my neck and his teeth lightly grazed my collarbone. I smiled, knowing that was a favorite spot of his. Soon his mouth drifted toward mine and we were kissing greedily. I loved the taste of him, and I couldn’t help myself, I crawled into his lap and straddled him, pushing my hips into his groin and rubbing my tongue against his.

He pulled my shirt over my head and released the clasp of my bra, his warm hands coming up to hold the weight of my breasts as his thumbs grazed the sensitive peaks. The straining bulge in his jeans told me he was enjoying this every bit as much as I was. Our bodies just fit together. From the way our mouths sought each other’s to the way our hips aligned and worked together . . . it was perfection. He was perfection. And I was in much too deep to stop this now.

After several minutes of his trailing wet kisses all over my breasts, I pushed myself away and crawled from his lap. There was something I wanted to do. I dropped to my knees on the floor in front of him and began working to unbutton his jeans. The dark look in his eyes as he watched me made my breath catch in my throat.

Finally having freed the button, I pulled down his zipper and tugged the jeans from his hips. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath. I wasn’t sure if it was in anticipation of seeing me tonight, but it was sexy as hell knowing he was bare underneath his denim this entire time. He lifted his hips and the jeans fell down to his knees, freeing him to my kisses. And I didn’t waste any time. I’d thought about doing this many times, and even though his piercing intimidated me, I wanted nothing more than to take him in my mouth and make him lose all control.

Wrapping both hands around his generous length, I planted my mouth around him, swirling my tongue against his hot flesh and eliciting a soft groan from him. My tongue flickered against the barbell while I looked up and watched his reaction. His fists were clenched into the bedding and his mouth hung open as he watched me work. I felt seductive and beautiful watching him come apart. He cursed under his breath and pushed my hair out of my face, bringing one hand to the back of my neck and guiding me deeper, showing me how to please him.

“Oh fuck, kitten, that feels incredible.”

I felt powerful and doubled my efforts. I licked, kissed, sucked, and stroked him to the best of my ability until his breathing was labored and his chest rumbled with a suppressed groan. Freeing himself from my mouth, Braydon lifted me back onto the bed with him. The hungry look in his eyes told me he was ready for more. He made quick work of stripping me of the last of my clothes and laid me down against the pillows. He’d rushed to strip me naked, but now he was slowing down, taking his time and staring at me with a look of adoration.

“Bray?” I whispered.

“Shh . . .” He pressed a fingertip to my lips. “Just lie back and let me make you come.”

I fell back against the pillow once again, breathless and full of conflicting emotions. I wanted this—I wanted him—but I wanted more than just a physical connection. Braydon knew my body better than I did, and he used it to his full advantage. Within moments of his hot mouth closing around my lady parts, I was writhing and coming apart for him.

After he’d finished feasting on me and nibbling on my thighs and hip bones, he grabbed a condom from the bedside table and rolled it on. “I want to fuck you from behind, baby.”

“What’s your favorite position?” I murmured as I rolled on my stomach, remembering how fond he seemed of this one in particular.

“I think you know.” He leaned over me and bit my shoulder.

I yelped and turned my head to glare back at him. He bent his head and tenderly kissed the spot he’d just bitten. “But why do you like it like this?”

“Honestly? I can usually make girls come really easily this way. I think my piercing hits the right spot.”

A shiver zipped down my spine. I didn’t want to think about him with other women, though his confidence was a turn-on.

“Grab on to that sexy ass while I push slowly inside you.”

I did as I was told and Braydon entered me as promised, exquisitely, slowly while pressing sweet, sucking kisses against the back of my neck. He was right about something, this position, this angle . . . it was a deadly combination. My bottom was lifting to meet his thrusts and I was moaning in pleasure into the pillow in front of me.

Once we were both thoroughly satisfied, Braydon disposed of the condom and took me in his arms, kissing my mouth in gentle little nips. I closed my eyes and let the feeling of complete bliss wash over me.

“On a scale of one to sex, how awesome was that?” Braydon chuckled and tucked me securely in against his side. “Shit, kitten. You’re amazing.”

I lay there, with my heart still pounding and body still clenching with the loss of him, and wondered how I could possibly hold it together. How stupid could I have been to think casual sex with him was going to be enough? I’d always been a commitment, flowers, and romance kind of girl, even if I hadn’t been getting the full package from the last few guys I dated. A powerful surge of emotion ripped through me as Braydon held me, murmuring sweet things in my ear.

I felt like crying. I was already falling for him, and there was no way he was going to reciprocate my feelings. He’d made it abundantly clear that whatever was happening between us was just sex.

God, I felt like an idiot.

At times he was so careful and affectionate with me, it felt like anything but a random hookup.

“You want to shower before bed?” he asked.

I hadn’t really assumed I’d be spending the night here. I thought this was a place to hook up and then I’d go back home and sleep in my own bed. I didn’t have pajamas, my toothbrush . . . not to mention I didn’t relish the idea of the walk of shame in the morning, dressed in yesterday’s clothes.

I sat up abruptly, knowing this wouldn’t work for me. “I wasn’t planning on sleeping here.”

“Why not?” He patted the space beside him. “King-sized bed. Plenty of space, even for a bed hog like you.”

I got out of bed on shaky legs. I knew the scent of this man, his tastes, his preferences, the soft throaty way he cursed when he entered me. Sex brought out far more emotion for me. I couldn’t deny it anymore. I wasn’t cut out to be one of his arrangements. The act of sex was far more intimate in my view than Braydon believed. It brought a certain closeness that I couldn’t shake. I thought of him constantly, remembering the feel of his rough hands on my skin, the way his teeth grazed my neck with every thrust forward. . . .

“Let’s face it. We’re supposed to be fuck pals, right?” I bit out. His jaw tensed, but he didn’t argue. “That’s all this is. And we’re getting too close, too familiar. I know how you like your eggs, that you like to take a shower after sex and stay in there for exactly seven minutes. I know that you prefer classical music and jazz, which beers are your favorite. . . .”

Braydon sat up on the bed, studying me with curiosity. “This isn’t what we agreed to. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

I wanted to scream at him; I didn’t want him to be sorry. I wanted him to take me in his arms, fuck logic, fuck all our rules, and make me his. He said all along he felt this powerful connection between us—wasn’t that enough for him to want to be with me?

But instead, he continued watching me with a weary expression while rubbing the back of his neck. “Shall I call you a cab then?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. I can grab one right outside the hotel, I’m sure.” I just needed out of this room, out of this space that smelled of him, of us, of sex. I needed away from his pretty blue eyes, which always saw too much, before I lost it entirely. Stuffing my feet into my shoes, I dashed for the door. I heard Braydon release a muted curse word just before the door closed. Tears were already swimming in my eyes, so I was thankful for the cover of night.

As soon as I was in the darkened backseat of the yellow cab, I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably while trying to give the poor driver my address. I settled for pointing and stuttering through my tears at the upcoming intersections. The rush of tears had been building for too long, and I could do nothing to stop it. The cab driver handed me a box of tissues and mumbled something in response to my hiccupping my address at him.

I folded my arms around myself, holding tightly. I hated that I could remember how Braydon’s hands felt on my skin, the tender way he held me close, the exquisitely slow way he slid deep inside me, the way his breath whispered softly across my lips moments before he kissed me. I scrubbed my hands over my face, wiping away the stupid tears dampening my cheeks. It was foolish to waste tears on him. He and I would never be more. I knew what this was when we started it. He’d pursued me relentlessly, and I’d stupidly agreed to be his fuck friend. I thought I’d be in control, but now I saw that would never be possible. You couldn’t not fall for a man like him. He was beautiful, kind, funny, and seriously really fucking good in bed. It really wasn’t fair. And now he’d put my life through a blender. He was all I thought about, everything I wanted. And I couldn’t have him.

I pulled in a shaky breath and forced myself to hold it together. Soon the cab was pulling to a stop in front of my building. I shoved thirty dollars at the driver and climbed from the car, my sore body cruelly reminding me of my intimate encounter with Braydon.

Once inside my silent and familiar apartment, I padded to my bedroom, undressed, and climbed under the covers. It was obvious I wasn’t cut out for casual sex. Yet I knew with absolute certainty I wasn’t doing anything to stop Braydon’s pursuit of me.