No Denying You(17)

Emma smiled when he opened the box to show a delicate orchid corsage. “Oh, Brant, it’s beautiful.” She reached up and pressed her lips against his softly. “I love it.”

His hands shook slightly as he pinned the flower against the shoulder of her dress. This was unfamiliar territory for him and he was afraid he was going to stick the pin through her delicate skin. God, he could barely remember a time when his life was carefree enough to just be in the moment. Even with Alexia, he had always held a part of himself back. He had loved her but was very aware that bad things could happen to people you loved. In his experience, there was less pain if you kept your heart better insulated. After all, something bad was bound to happen sooner or later. He had thought that Alexia was fine with that until she walked away.

Emma, he knew, would never be content with half of anyone. A relationship with her would mean he’d have to be all in. She didn’t do anything in life halfway. She would love hard and completely. He had no clue how to approach something like that. Once she figured out that he was not capable of being more than he was, she would be gone. He could live out the fantasy for the weekend, but things between them had to end when the plane touched down at home. No party could last forever.

The reunion   was in full swing when they arrived. Brant had insisted on hiring a car and driver for the evening and, from the looks of the well-stocked bar, Emma thought that was probably a good idea. She figured it was largely due to the fact that he didn’t want to take her old car, rather than worrying about alcohol, but she had decided to let it go. She’d already sent Brant off to get her first drink of the evening, needing some time to compose herself. She had been floored when he had produced a corsage earlier. Such thoughtful gestures were something she would have never thought Brant was capable of. Heck, she would have never imagined him capable of all that he had been for the last few days—Mr. December was also Mr. Multi-Orgasm, Mr. Sensitive, Mr. Gentle and Mr. Personality, just to name a few.

On top of that, her parents were completely in love with him and, if she didn’t take control of her traitorous heart, she would be right there with them. Her pretend boyfriend was turning out to be the best man she had ever had in her life. She had even taken to chanting under her breath, “It’s not real, it’s not real.” He had actually caught her doing it earlier and she had brushed it away explaining that she was saying, “I need a meal.” Yeah, she wasn’t a fast thinker on her feet, but he seemed satisfied and had promptly ushered her in for lunch.

They had spent the day on the beach. She had discovered that Brant was possibly part fish because there was nothing he couldn’t do in the water. Some of those things would have probably gotten them arrested. He was a natural at paddleboarding although he claimed to have never tried it before. He was also well above average in the surfing department. She, on the other hand, had been so distracted by his gorgeous body in his Nike board shorts that she had tumbled into the waves times and again. She was sure that he knew the effect he was having on her. He never missed an opportunity to touch her whenever he was close. If not for her sister dropping by for a few moments to chat as they were making their way upstairs, she would have surely attacked him in the shower again. Unfortunately, now she was horny and in for a long evening before she could do anything about it.

Yeah, bring on the alcohol; maybe it could cool the flames roaring inside her. She had never felt the need to masturbate in public, but she hadn’t ruled it out this evening. Brant had her completely on edge.

Emma jumped when she felt a hand on her lower back. When a fruity drink was pressed in her hand, she looked up to give Brant a grateful smile. His answering sexy grin turned questioning when she immediately drained half of the glass. She couldn’t detect any alcohol, and she wondered how bad it would look if she asked him to get her a glass of straight-up vodka.

“You’d better take it easy, baby; drinks like that will bring you to your knees.”

Emma could see the exact moment that they both got a visual of just what she could be doing on her knees. As his eyes locked on hers, he pulled her body closer to his, murmuring in her ear, “Well, maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

Her nipples hardened and she clenched her legs together, trying to relieve the pressure there. This conversation so wasn’t helping. She was one suggestive comment away from ripping his clothes off in front of the crowd and making this a reunion   that no one would ever forget.

“Emma!” That was the only warning she received before someone almost knocked her off her feet. “Oh my freaking God, I can’t believe you’re here!” She was forced from Brant’s arms when her friend Madison pulled her into a rib-breaking hug.

“Maddie! I so hoped you would be here.” Emma was thrilled to see her old friend. Other than the hem of her dress being even higher now, Madison had changed very little. Her long blond hair was still the same super-straight style that Emma had always envied and her skin still held that sun-kissed golden glow.

Madison had always been much more outgoing than Emma, especially where the opposite sex was concerned. She knew nothing had changed in that area when Madison said, “Girl, I’m gonna be honest. I have been staring at this stone-cold fox you’re with since I got here and hating the tramp plastered all over him. When I finally looked away from his luscious buns long enough to glare daggers at the tramp, I figured out it was you!”

Emma laughed helplessly at her friend’s colorful description while beside her Brant had stiffened. She didn’t know if he was offended at being called a stone-cold fox or by her being called a tramp. Possibly a little of both. She took his hand, giving it a squeeze for reassurance.

“Brant, this is my friend Madison.” And then because she couldn’t resist, she added, “I believe you went to college with her old boyfriend Paul.” She could see the exact moment that he made the connection in his head.

She fully expected him to excuse himself and head for the door, so she was surprised when he gave Madison a dazzling smile and said, “Paul always was a lucky bastard.” As soon as he spoke, it was clear Madison was officially in love with him, and Emma was at a complete loss. As her friend hung all over her fake boyfriend, Emma had to wonder if maybe she didn’t miss the usual tightass Brant just a tiny bit. This one was unpredictable. Things that would normally freak him out didn’t seem to faze him at all.

Before Emma could blink, there were three more of her old friends, Meg, Tina and Jill, gathered around them. Even David, who her mother had targeted as a possible reunion   date, had joined them. Emma had to admit her mother was right—David was a damn nice-looking guy. The problem was, though, he, like her other friends, seemed more interested in Brant’s attention than hers. Fifteen minutes later she was sipping her second drink and trying not to stare daggers at her friends. Was this what being jealous felt like? Brant, to his credit, had kept a firm hold on her hand no matter who attempted to squeeze her out. When Jill asked him to dance, she was relieved. Jill was happily married, even though she hadn’t seen her husband yet tonight. Brant released Emma’s hand and escorted Jill to the dance floor. Emma was floored when Jill put her arms around his neck and plastered herself against Brant. “What the hell?”

Madison stood beside her surveying the scene. “Yeah, I can’t believe you let that happen. The girl has turned into a major slut since Dean left her.”

Whirling around, Emma gasped in horror. “What? Why I am just hearing about this?”

“I have no idea; your mother must not gossip as much as mine.” Yeah, right, Emma thought. Her mother never missed anything . . . so why didn’t she know about Jill’s divorce? She would have at least warned Brant ahead of time.

“Damn, would you look at that,” Madison said. “I can’t believe she went there.”

Emma shut her eyes and opened them again before she could muster up the strength to look back over at the dance floor. No, it wasn’t a dream; her friend had her hand on Brant’s ass. She was just fixing to march over there and make a huge scene when Brant took Jill’s hand and gently but firmly removed it from his backside. Whatever he said to her must have been effective because her hand stayed where he placed it without roving again.

David had come back from the bar and turned his head to see what they were looking at. With a sigh, he said, “I don’t guess he’s gay.”

“Um, no,” Emma grumbled, “he is definitely not.” My God, couldn’t any of her friends keep their eyes and their hands off her man? Okay, well, maybe he wasn’t really her man, but he damn well was tonight—and it was time she staked her claim. As she set her drink down, the room started spinning for a moment. When she had cleared her head enough to proceed, she noticed that Jill was no longer alone with Brant on the dance floor. Madison, Meg and Tina had now joined them as the music changed from a slow song to a faster number. Emma watched in shock as Brant moved like he was Justin Freaking Timberlake. Why was he torturing her like this? She had wanted him to impress her friends as a good piece of arm candy, but she hadn’t actually wanted them to admire him enough to follow him like the Pied Piper.