No Denying You(10)

Emma stumbled a few times on the way up the jet bridge, so his focus was primarily on making sure she didn’t fall on her face. There were several police officers and a dog standing at the end of the bridge as the passengers walked by. Brant knew it was standard procedure at many airports to have drug-sniffing dogs stationed where new passengers entered the airport facility. He barely spared them a glance as he steered Emma toward the terminal. When the dog suddenly started barking frantically, he looked around to see what was going on. He was shocked immobile when the dog stopped at his feet, still barking urgently. What the hell? He was so shaken up that he dropped both carry-on bags. Emma’s hard-shell bag dropped to the floor with a loud pop and seemed to explode open.

He looked down practically in a daze as skimpy panties covered every inch of the floor around his feet. He could barely hear the chaos around him over the roaring in his ears. Suddenly, he was being pulled off to the side and asked repeatedly if he had a prescription for the medication he was carrying. What the hell were they talking about? He wasn’t carrying medication! When he shook his head, struggling to answer and confused by what they were asking, they seemed to take his response as an admission of guilt. He felt hands on his shoulders and cuffs snapping around his wrists. Through the haze, he thought he was probably hallucinating because he was sure he saw Emma on the ground trying to wrestle something from the dog’s mouth. The police were shouting at her, but she persisted. Was that? No, surely not. There was no way his assistant was wrestling with a narcotics detection dog for a . . . pink penis?

“Emma,” he yelled.

As the police pulled her away from the dog, she gave one final jerk and held up a bright pink, phallus-shaped object in her hands. He knew it was a vibrator because the buzzing sound coming from it was unmistakable. As she waved it in victory, he noticed white things that appeared to be pills sticking to the sides of it. “Fuck!” This was a damn bad time to learn that your assistant had a drug problem.

Necks craned as they were led in handcuffs toward the security office in a back hall of the airport. Their bags were deposited on a table and the police started sifting through them. One of the officers pointed to Emma’s bag, asking, “Whose bag is this?”

Emma stuck her hand up as if she were in school. “It’s mine. I’m sorry about the mess, but I had to pack in a hurry.”

The officer held up one of the white pills that were scattered in the bag. “What kind of pills are these?”

Emma looked at him, clearly puzzled. “I don’t know the name of them. I just got them before I left home.”

The officer called the numbers off one of the pills to the other officer, who entered them into a computer. “Miss, these are Vicodin. Do you have a prescription?”

Brant wanted to cry when she shook her head no. “I gave it to the man at Walgreens and he gave me these. He said take one or two and I took two . . . I think. My mouth was hurting really bad; I had a root canal this morning.” Shit, that explained a lot. She had taken pain medication. Apparently, it was some strong stuff. She still seemed half out of it, even after fighting with a dog.

“Miss, where is your prescription bottle? We need to verify that you were legally prescribed these narcotics.”

Big tears flooded her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. She seemed to be thinking the same thing he was now: cavity search and incarceration. “I . . . I think I left it at home. The top came off and they spilled everywhere. The cab horn was blaring outside so I threw my whole drawer in the bag and ran.”

Yeah, thanks, baby. That really helped our case a lot. Brant averted his gaze from the huge, pill-covered vibrator that seemed to be staring him in the face. Apparently, the jellylike consistency of the vibrator was like Velcro for pills . . . just their luck. “Emma, can you give them the name of your dentist? Maybe they could give him a call to confirm the prescription.” Luckily, she had the receipt in her purse and the officers were able to get the confirmation they needed. They gave her a plastic baggie for her medication along with a copy of the prescription that the dentist had faxed over. He had to give them credit for mostly being able to control the smirks he saw hints of on their faces. The vibrator and the pills stuck to it were left behind to be disposed of. He was sure that they would be kept for weeks as the airport police laughed their asses off.

Emma stayed quiet as they picked up their luggage from the baggage claim and settled into the back of a taxi. He really needed a few moments alone to process everything that had just happened. He wasn’t used to being a public spectacle, so this was a new and unwelcome feeling.

When they reached the hotel, it didn’t even surprise him to learn that instead of two rooms, there was only one reservation. Of course, the hotel was booked to capacity with several conventions in progress. Perhaps he should consider himself lucky that the room had two double beds. At least it was only for one night, right? Surely they now had covered every possible disaster for this trip. He could lock himself in the bathroom for a while if he needed privacy. On second thought, as soon as he dropped off his bag, he was hitting the hotel bar . . . alone.

Emma woke in a strange room completely disoriented. The sun streamed in, causing her vision to blur as her eyes adjusted to the light.

“Well, good morning, sunshine, I see you finally decided to join the land of the living.”

She almost panicked until she felt the fabric of her clothing against the palm of her hand. For a moment, she had been afraid that they’d . . . God, no. She’d never been more grateful to wake up in her old T-shirt. Miami . . . room mix-up, check.

“Ugh,” she groaned, “what time is it?”

“It’s a little after eight. Why don’t you pull yourself together and we’ll go have some breakfast?” He gave her a look that indicated he wasn’t sure it was possible.

She pulled the covers over her head and waved him toward the door. “You go on. I think I’ll pass.”

Suddenly the comforter was jerked from her hands and Brant loomed over her. “Oh no, sweetheart, you’re not getting off that easy. I have gone through hell for you on this trip and you owe me. You have ten minutes. Do what you can and meet me downstairs in the lobby.”

“Good grief, when did you turn into such a drama queen?”

Giving her a disbelieving look, he snarled, “Drama queen? You almost got me fucking strip-searched yesterday at the airport. Did you expect that we would sit around today and have a good laugh over the whole thing?”

She was still a bit hazy on the events of the previous day, but she refused to let him one-up her. “Well, I’m sure a strip search would have been a thrill for you. Perhaps the highlight of your whole year. You should be thanking me instead of whining.” She barely had time to think Uh-oh, maybe I went a little too far before she was jerked from the bed and held tightly against his broad chest.

“If I’m so lacking in female company, maybe you should help me out. Why don’t you show me what I’ve been missing? I believe you called me fuckable yesterday.” She barely had time to gasp in surprise before his lips swooped down to claim hers. Her hands landed on his shoulders to push him away, but instead she found herself gripping the fabric of his suit jacket in her hands, holding on for dear life. His lips plundered and claimed, seeking to both punish and assert dominance. She was surprised to hear the throaty moan and realize that it was coming from her. Almost against her will, she slid closer to him, instinctively seeking the warmth of his hard body against hers. She felt him jerk against her as her tongue rose to meet his, desperate for a taste of his heat. Her mouth protested the activity, still tender from her root canal, but she didn’t care. What had begun, she knew, as a punishment was now rapidly spiraling into something that neither of them had been expecting.

Emma felt his hard-on against her stomach and she stretched to run her hands through his hair, desperate to anchor him to her. When his mouth moved from her lips to her neck, she moaned, “Brant . . .” It was as if a dam had collapsed between them. All of the usual animosity they felt for each other was being channeled in another direction and she was powerless to resist . . . she had no desire to resist him. His jacket hit the floor, followed shortly by his shirt and tie. She barely had time to run her hands up the velvety skin of his chest before he was ripping the thin T-shirt she had slept in over her head. She didn’t consider herself the most athletic person in the world but when Brant settled his big hands on her ass, she gripped his arms and jumped against him, wrapping her legs around his narrow, muscled waist. God, he felt good against her damp heat.

Brant ground his cock against her as she nibbled and sucked on his neck. A growl rumbled up through his chest before he dropped her backward onto the bed. She propped her head on her arms to appreciate the masculine beauty before her. His eyes, almost black with desire, caught and held hers as his hands went to his belt. She could see the outline of his cock pushing against the fabric of his slacks. He finished unbuckling his belt and had his slacks hanging open before she could blink. The bulge in his black boxer briefs was threatening to break loose as he kicked his feet free of both his shoes and pants.