Castle-Hill

I gave him a small, flirty smile. “Can I get you a drink?”

“I really should say no.” He held up his ring finger with his wedding band on it. “I’m married.”

“Oh?” I hid my smile, feeling a rush of excitement go through me at our little game. “I didn’t realize. I take it your wife isn’t with you this evening?”

“Apparently not,” Braden answered, his mouth twitching with definite amusement now as our eyes met.

Pretending we weren’t at a bar in an airport but at home, my gaze turned heated in a way Braden understood. “That’s good news.”

“It is?” he glanced down at my left hand.

I turned my diamond so that it sparkled beautifully in the light. “Yeah, I’m married too.”

Eyes staring into mine again, Braden’s reply was thick with a sincerity that somehow managed to be as emotional as it was sexual. “He’s a very lucky man.”

I tilted my head flirtatiously. “That’s what I hear.”

Braden leaned into me and I knew he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

My smile grew. “So can I buy you a drink?”

“I actually think I’d like that.”

The air was charged between us as he waited for my next move. I looked away and called the bartender over. After ordering him a drink, I waited to see if Braden would keep up the pretense with me.

“So, where are you traveling to?” he asked, his tone amused but slightly rough.

I didn’t have to look into his eyes to know he was aroused, but I looked anyway because I needed to.

“Hawaii.” I pressed my leg against his thigh, wishing we weren’t in a public place. I wanted his hands on me.

“Me too.”

“Your drink.” The bartender slid Braden’s drink to him.

We took hold of our glasses and clinked them together.

“Business or pleasure?” I asked saucily.

“Oh, I’m definitely hoping pleasure,” he said as I took a sip of wine.

Slowly I licked a drop of wine off my lower lip, triumphing over the suffocated groan it produced from the back of Braden’s throat. “That makes two of us.”

Eyes still on my mouth, Braden’s hand tightened around his glass. “My wife wouldn’t be too pleased to find a strange woman flirting with me at a bar.”

“Is your wife the jealous type?” I teased.

My amusement was stifled by the intensity of our co

I sucked in a breath. “Are you the jealous type?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

I smiled. “So you’re both a little possessive, huh? I don’t suppose she’d like what I’m thinking about doing to you, either.”

Braden ran his gaze over my face before replying. “No, she definitely wouldn’t. But, you know … you remind me of my wife.”

Chuckling, I pressed my leg harder against his. “Yeah, you remind me of my husband.”

Eyes glittering with laughter, Braden asked, “What would your husband do if he were here right now?”

“Well, he’s a little possessive himself, but a gentleman, so he’d be polite when he made it perfectly clear to you that I wasn’t yours to flirt with.”

“Smart man.”

“That’s what I hear.”

His laughter always made me feel like I’d won something.

I stared, relishing everything about him. Slowly, his laughter faded and we were staring at each other like we were about to start going at it right there on the bar. “Then what would he do?”

The tingling between my legs flared to life and I felt my breasts swell against the thin material of my sundress. Shifting closer, inhaling his familiar scent, I wished we were somewhere we could do something about being this turned on.

“Jocelyn?”

I cleared my throat. “He’d probably kiss me. And then he’d insist on hearing about all the things I’m going to do to him when I get him alone.”

Braden’s eyes instantly darkened, his head descending toward mine before I could blink. His kiss was deep and hot, and I found myself clinging to him. I shivered at the feel of his hand sliding discreetly under my dress, his touch making my nipples pebble with need. I gasped breaking our kiss.

Barely cognizant of anything around us, I drew his ear to my lips. “As soon as I get you alone,” I whispered, “I’m going to let you fuck me as hard as you want.” I then went on to elaborate until my breathing grew hitched, and the muscles in Braden’s jaw were tense.

In fact, every line of his body was. His hand was clamped tightly around my thigh. I dropped my forehead to the side of his jaw, trying to control my breathing.

After a few very long minutes, Braden’s grip on me loosened and he pulled me into a hug. I nuzzled his neck, feeling the burn of unsatisfied lust. “Sorry,” I murmured against his skin.

He stroked my back in comfort. “Don’t be. It was hot.”

“Too hot for an airport.”

I felt him shake slightly, obviously laughing. “Probably. I’ll take care of you later, though. And, hey, at least you don’t have a hard-on in public.”

My turn to laugh now. Pulling back I glanced down at his lap, hidden under the bar, to see he was not lying. Glancing up into his face I said, “Your mother. Naked.”

A look of distaste took the heat out of his eyes.

He took a swig of whiskey and eventually muttered, “Thanks.”

I looked down at his lap. The erection was gone.

Trying not to smile, I looked away casually and asked airily, “What do you want to talk about until the flight is called?”

“Cold wind. Sleet. The ugly doorman at Club 39. Porridge.”

I burst out laughing. “You mean anything that won’t give you an erection?”

He smiled at me, his eyes roaming my face lovingly. “Maybe we should just stop talking altogether. And put a bag over your head. And cover your legs.”

“Just don’t look at me.”

“I can still smell you.”

“I could move.”

“Dare move away from me and I’ll put you over my knee, Wife.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

Braden cut me a dirty look and I covered my mouth with my hand so he couldn’t see my grin.

We were silent for a few minutes and then I leaned my elbow on the bar, resting my chin on my palm as I told him softly. “I’m loving our honeymoon so far.”

He took my other hand in his. “I am too.”

I shifted closer to him, resting my knee against his. “Do you want to wait in the first-class lounge? I’m sure it’s filled with stuffy businessmen types who will certainly shatter the very sexual mood we’ve got going on here with all their stiff-upper-lippishness.”

Braden’s mouth twitched. “Stiff-upper-lippishness?”

“Stiff-upper-lippishness.”

He nodded, laughing softly now as he got up out of the stool and helped me down from mine.

Wrapping an arm around my waist, he said as he walked us toward the lounge, “Maybe we should stop using the word ‘stiff’ since apparently being married to you means losing control over my body and any self-respect I might have.”

“Grounds for divorce?” I teased as we showed our boarding passes to an airline attendant at the lounge doors.

“Grounds for a marathon fucking,” he answered dryly, not caring that the airline attendant had turned purple at his reply. “You won’t be able to walk for a while when I’m done with you,” he continued, gently guiding me into the lounge, leaving the gasping attendant behind.

I determinedly tried not to show my embarrassment, as I was used to him sometimes saying hot, blush-inducing shit like that to me in public. The key was to not let him know he’d flustered me.

“I’m happy with that as long as we’re talking multiple orgasms.”

Three suits turned their heads toward me from the small bar in the lounge, their eyebrows raised.

Braden and I stopped and I felt his hand squeeze my hip. “We’re going to get thrown out of the first-class lounge.”

I smirked. “You started it.”

“Actually, you started it.”

I heaved a sigh and glanced at my watch. “Well, unfortunately we’ve got about ten hours before we can finish it.”