Page 57 of Knocked Up
“God,” I say, my tears already burning with emotion. “You are, you know. You’re exactly the kind of man Irvin would say that about.”
He’s worthy of all of it. Hell, I think between us, Braxton is already more emotionally prepared for this baby than I am and not only have I known longer, I’m the one carrying it.
“Thanks, Cara,” he says. He stops in his parking space and shoves the gearshift into park. Before I can blink, his hand is at my neck, he’s pulling me to him, and then his mouth is on mine.
It’s glorious, and as surprised as I am, I surrender to the feel of him, the suddenness of his kiss, the force of it, as if he needs to touch and taste me more than he currently needs breath.
He’s intoxicating, overwhelming, and while he looks so scary and large all muscled and inked, he’s the kindest, best man I’ve ever met.
I’m overwhelmed with all of him, all of who he is and how he makes me feel, safe and protected in such a difficult situation, and yet I know he’s not doing it out of a sense of responsibility, but because he genuinely cares.
And while we kiss, my body responds, warms, and tingles travel down my arms and sides, until my nipples bud, my center is throbbing.
“Braxton,” I whisper, pulling away so my lips brush against his. “Take me upstairs.”
He smirks. “Where did you think we were going?”
—
“This is not exactly where I expected this night to lead,” I tease, mesmerized by the sight of his ass in those dress pants while he bends over the huge soaking tub. He dragged me straight through his condo direct to the bathroom, barely giving me time to kick off my heels when we entered his home. I figured he was just in a hurry to get to the good stuff, but nope. Braxton’s bathroom is massive and white, but other than that, I’m not paying attention at all to the decor or finishings. I’m too focused on the curve and strength of his body.
He stands, flicking water from his fingers into the filling tub. “Turn around.”
“Um.” I move slowly, surprised when his hands, warm from checking the water, are at my neck, sliding down my zipper. “What are you doing?”
“I want you to take a bath while I feed Lucy and take her for a quick walk.” From the bedroom, Lucy’s whine is distinct, paired with her pawing at the kennel I know she wants to exit.
“A bath.” This is definitely not what I meant when I told him to take me upstairs.
“I’m certainly not letting you sit down on the bed or the couch. You’ll be asleep before I get Lucy’s leash on her.”
I could argue, I don’t. He’s probably right. If I sit down now and relax, it’s most likely lights out. This is one night I don’t want to miss. Every brief touch of his fingers skimming down my skin as he removes my dress builds the anticipation of what I’m hoping is still to come.
“Braxton,” I sigh as his hands reach mine at my side, pushing my sleeves off my arms. His fingers trail along mine, brushing back up my arms.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs. In the mirror, I watch our reflection as he dips his head. I know it’s coming, that delicious feel of his lips on my shoulder, but I still jolt from the pleasure of it as his lips press against my sensitive skin. “When I get back, I’ll join you, so take your time.”
His eyes meet mine in the mirror, his lips lifted into a smile against my shoulder. “Got it?”
“Yeah,” I whisper, forcing out a reply. I can’t take my eyes off him, the way he’s still dressed and I’m fully exposed except for the thong he hasn’t removed, my dress so low-cut in the back it didn’t allow for a bra.
I turn to him, his hands slip to my hips, and I step back out of my hold.
The last time we were together was rushed and frantic, drunken kisses and passionate lust. My clothes had been whipped off without regard, with no time for seduction.
This time, I want to own all of his responses, draw them out.
I stand before him in nothing but my satin thong and the length of my hair covering my breasts.
And then I strip away the satin.
“Fuck,” he groans, his gaze fixed to the tops of my thighs and then slowly drifts up, as if he’s trying to memorize every curve of my body, the slope of my hips, the curve of my stomach. In front of him, I’m entirely unembarrassed at my nakedness. His approval is clear in the shine of his dark eyes, the clench of his hands into fists, and the quickening of his breath. “Get in the tub before I forget about the dog.”
“Can’t have that,” I murmur playfully.
In slow, teasing movements, I step over the ledge and sink into the tub. A groan slips through my lips as I slide into the water. It’s warm, not overly so, but still soothing, and the scent of lavender hits my nose as I smooth away the bubbles.
“I didn’t take you for a bubble bath kind of guy.”
