Stirring Up Trouble(23)
“You look good in my house.”
She tensed and gently pushed Zeus off her lap. He jumped to the floor and settled a few feet away, this time keeping his eyes trained on her. She got to her feet and darted from the couch, unsettled by his comment.
Who was he kidding? She didn’t look good in his house. She didn’t look good in any house.
Before she could leave the room, he pulled her back against him. “What’s wrong?” he said, resting his head on top of hers.
She felt small and delicate in his arms. Powerless. While it scared her to lose that power she clung to so fiercely, it also made her feel safe, knowing Braden wouldn’t use it against her. With him, she didn’t need to pretend, didn’t need to act strong. She could relinquish it to him and relax. Which meant she needed to get the hell out of there. “This was a bad idea. I don’t belong here.”
His hands crept up to caress her stomach through her sweater. Her breath came quickly and she wanted to close her eyes to treasure the pleasurable sensation of liquid heat flowing through her blood, making her breasts ache for his touch. But she refused to give into temptation and kept her eyes open. With the press of his hands, he slowly turned her toward him.
“How do you know you don’t belong?” He wrapped a piece of her hair around his finger and released it, the edge of his warm hand brushing her cheek. “You’ve only been here for ten minutes.”
She watched the rise and fall of his chest and wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I have pink hair.”
He laughed and raked his fingers through it. “I’ve noticed. But what does that have to do with anything?”
“It’s what the hair represents. You’re gourmet and I’m fast food. You’re designer and I’m vintage, and not the expensive kind either. You’re fast cars and I’m a bicycle. Don’t you see?”
“No, I don’t.”
He cupped his hand to the side of her face and for a moment, she savored its warmth, resting her cheek against it, her eyes sliding closed. Then she forced them open and looked up at him.
Was there anyone sexier? She’d lived in almost every state and yet she’d never met a man who’d set her heart racing from a mere glance.
“My hair, my tattoos, my piercings, they’re who I am. I have six holes in each ear, one in my brow, and those are the ones you can see. Do you know why I have so many tattoos? I’ve gotten one in every city I’ve lived since turning eighteen. Each one represents something about the city which made it special. I have pink hair and tattoos and piercings because I want everyone to know I’m different. I didn’t grow up in a house, have sleepovers with friends, or join the school band. If I have ordinary brown hair, a blank canvas of skin, and only one hole in each earlobe, everyone will assume I’m like them. But I’m not, Braden. I’m different.”
He smiled. “Yes, you are. You’re unique and carefree, you’re sensual and artistic. You may not have grown up in a mansion, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to live in one. Believe me, I’ve met plenty of rich people who don’t have the class in their entire body that you have in your little pinkie. The way you look doesn’t have anything to do with who you are inside. You try to hide Viola behind Lola, but I see her there, staring back at me, wanting me as much as I want her.”
He braced both hands on the sides of her face, his thumb sweeping back and forth across her lips. Her throat seized, her ability to deny him gone. His lips hovered over hers, fanning her with his warm breath. She didn’t close her eyes this time. Didn’t want to miss the moment. Like the wings of a butterfly, and as soft as a whisper, his lips softly touched hers. Heat bloomed in her core, and she emitted a small moan in the back of her throat. He slanted his lips over hers, deepening the kiss, taking and giving, and she gripped his shoulders to keep from slumping to the plush carpet in a boneless heap.
The sound of knocking stopped their kiss cold. She peered around Braden and saw Portia and Ryan standing in the doorway of the room.
“Sorry.” Portia’s cheeks were stained pink from her blush. “Ryan used his key and we didn’t know you’d be here. We were just coming to get the rest of his things.”
Her sister tried to contain her smile, but she was failing miserably.
“If you’re here for the boxes, you could’ve just gone upstairs and you wouldn’t have needed to come by this room. Did you need something else?” Braden asked, his voice slightly strained.