Carae's Touch (Long Line of Love, #4) Read online

  He ignored it, urged her inside, and walked around the car to the driver's seat.

  "It's time I returned the favor for the dinner I owe you, Brandon. We can have dinner at Mario's after you drop Lelia's friend off."

  Fuming in the backseat, Carae waited for Brandon's response.

  "I'm going to have to take a rain check," he said.

  "Do you have other plans?" she asked.

  "No."

  Pleased that he didn't offer the other woman any explanation, Carae smiled and settled back in her seat. However, she listened with growing annoyance as the jealous bitch went on to discuss work related issues that excluded her.

  Brandon endeared himself to her when he turned the conversation to current news and made sure to include Carae.

  Finally, forty minutes later, Brandon pulled into a quiet tree-lined cul-de-sac. He got out and walked around the car to open her door.

  "Come in for a quick drink," she said, placing a hand on his arm when she slipped out of the car.

  "Maybe another time."

  "I'm sure Lelia's friend won't begrudge you a few minutes," she said as they walked away from the car and down the driveway towards the house.

  Carae watched out the window while the woman placed a hand on his arm again before leaning over to plant what looked like a kiss on his mouth. To her relief, he immediately stepped back, nodded at her, and walked away.

  When he reached the car, he opened the front and rear passenger side doors. "Join me in the front," he invited.

  "Of course." Carae got out and slipped into the front seat.

  When he got in beside her, she glanced at him. "Did you tell her I was Lelia's friend?"

  "You heard what I told her about you when I introduced you," he said.

  "Have you and she ever been more than friends?"

  "We're not friends. We work in the same building and on the same floor."

  "How does she know about Lelia and your brothers?"

  "We're not friends, but we are acquaintances. She invited me to a party at her house. I went. When Layton had a party, I asked Tempest to invite her and her husband to return the favor. They came. Whenever Layton and Tempest give a party, there are always several of us in attendance. She's met some of my brothers and she's met Lelia a few times when we were all returning from New York on the same train."

  "Is that all?"

  "I've already told you that it was. If I were in the market, it wouldn't be with her."

  "Why not? She's gorgeous."

  "So are you. Just so you know, Carae, I don't date white women."

  "Ever?"

  He shrugged. "I dated a few in college to see what all the fuss was about, but still couldn't see the attraction."

  "Does she know that?"

  "In case you didn't notice the ring, she's married."

  "I saw it, but does she remember that when the two of you are alone?" Like when she was trying to kiss you at her door?

  "Even if she didn't, I would. I have zero interest in any relationship with another man's wife."

  "Good," she said softly.

  "What were you doing at 30th Street Station, Carae?"

  "I was waiting for you," she admitted.

  "How did you know I'd be there?"

  "A little birdy told me," she said.

  "And would that little birdy be named Layton or Bancroft?"

  "Does it matter? I was hoping you'd be glad to see me, Brandon."

  "How many ways must I say I am and was happy to see you, Carae?"

  "I'll eagerly listen while you say it in as many ways as you like," she said.

  "Then I'll tell you yet again, that turning around to see you tonight was the highlight of my week...hell, who am I kidding? It was the highlight of the entire damned long and lonely four weeks and five days since I last saw you. Satisfied?"

  "Yes," she said, smiling. "I am." She glanced out the window and frowned. "Where are you going?" she asked.

  "You said you wanted to go home."

  "When I said I wanted to go home, I meant home with you, Brandon."

  He inhaled slowly. "I've had a rough week and I'm tired. When I get home, I don't plan on coming back out tonight."

  "That's okay. I'll spend the night at your place."

  "I don't recall inviting you to do that, Carae."

  "I noticed that too, which is why I'm taking the liberty of inviting myself. If you're not careful, I just might stay the whole damned weekend."

  He was silent for several moments before the car was suddenly filled with the sound of his laughter. At the next off-ramp, he exited the interstate, turned around, and went in the opposite direction.

  They made the thirty-minute drive to his condo located on the Delaware River in silence. After turning his car over for valet parking, he led her into the building and up to the twentieth floor where he had a three-bedroom condo with a panoramic view of the Ben Franklin Bridge.

  The interior boasted floor-to-ceiling windows, a private, glass-railed balcony, hardwood flooring in the living spaces, fireplaces and plush carpet in the bedrooms. The large kitchen held a beautiful free standing island, stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, and track lighting. The guest bathroom featured marble tops with a whirlpool tub, and a separate shower with frameless glass enclosure.

  "It's beautiful, Brandon," she said when they returned to the living room after a quick look around that she couldn't help noticing did not include his bedroom.

  "It's even more beautiful with you in it," he said.

  She turned to smile at him. "You sound as if you mean that."

  "I've never found it necessary to lie to a woman," he said.

  "If you really feel that way—"

  "There's no if about it. I do," he said.

  "Then why didn't you call me?"

  "Because nothing's changed since we last saw each other."

  She sighed. What would it take to make him bend enough to not only want a relationship with her but be willing to not make her do all the heavy lifting?

  She glanced around the living room. There were several pictures of Lelia and a few of his brothers. She saw no pictures of any woman other than Lelia and the woman she knew was his late mother. Of course that didn't mean he didn't have pictures of her competition in his wallet or bedroom.

  She turned back to face him and slipped her arms around his neck. "Dance with me, sweetie?"

  He immediately put his arms around her waist, drew her close, and slow danced her around the room. Even without music, the beauty of the night shining into the room along with his close embrace created an atmosphere of sensual warmth. She closed her eyes and pressed closer, certain he was speaking Tsalagi to her.

  Touched, she turned her head and kissed him.

  For several magical moments, she felt his mouth moving against hers in sweet response before he abruptly stepped away from her, breaking their embrace.

  They stared at each other in the moonlit room.

  "It was just a harmless kiss," she said when it was clear he wasn't going to speak.

  "When you're alone with a man who finds you attractive, there's no such thing as a harmless kiss."

  She moved close to him and again put her arms around his neck. "I've thought about you every single day since we met."

  "Did you? Even when you were partying with other men?"

  So much for Bancroft's efforts to teach her how to block his invasive touch. "What did you expect me to do, Brandon? Sit waiting for a call that we both know you had no intentions of making? And I'm sure you didn't spend your nights alone."

  "No, I didn't, but I haven't been intimate with anyone either."

  Recalling how close she'd come to a one-night stand with a sexy male she'd met two weeks earlier, she felt her cheeks burn. Damn him. "You don't have my permission to invade my thoughts, Brandon," she said, allowing her hands to drop to her sides.

  "And that's all you have to say about what you've been doing with other men?"

&nb
sp; She inhaled slowly. "If you're expecting me to apologize or attempt to justify myself, forget it. And you want to know why? Because there's nothing to justify beyond a few heated kisses and heavy petting."

  "So you didn't actually sleep with him?"

  She stared at him. "Why should you care?"

  "I shouldn't, but I do."

  She shook her head. "No. Things got a little hot and heavy because I was feeling lonely and depressed and he..."

  "He what?"

  "Even though he looked nothing like you, he reminded me of you."

  "And?"

  "But when push came to shove, he wasn't you and nothing happened beyond heavy petting. Now we need to discuss your unacceptable habit of invading my thoughts."

  To her surprise, he took her hands and linked her arms back around his neck. "My apologies. It wasn't intentional."

  "Then what happened?"

  He turned his head to brush his lips against her arm. "It feels like an age since I've seen you and when you touched me, I...things just got out of hand."

  "Kiss me and I'll consider forgiving you."

  He bent his head and briefly touched his mouth to hers.

  "And what have you been doing?" She asked against his lips.

  "Missing you more than you can imagine," he whispered, transferring his mouth to her neck.

  "Right answer, even if it isn't true," she said, stroking her hands over his hair.

  "It is true."

  Hearing the sincerity in his voice, she unlinked an arm from his neck to stroke down his chest and abs. "Are you going to allow me to seduce you?"

  He inhaled quickly and gripped her wrist before she could reach her target, his groin. "No," he said and stepped away from her.

  "You're starting to make me feel like a desperate woman pushing myself on you." She turned away.

  He caught her hand and turned her back to face him. "There's no reason for you to feel that way, Carae."

  "Honestly, how else am I supposed to feel? Every time I make a move or gesture, you slap me down."

  He squeezed her hand before slowly drawing her into a half embrace. "I'm afraid that if I don't keep a tight grip on things, I'll end up hurting you."

  "Why do you get to decide who I should see?"

  "I don't, but I do get to decide who I see."

  What a fool she'd been to allow Bancroft to talk her into thinking she had a chance with him. She shook her head. "I am through wasting my time with you." She allowed her arms to fall to her side and stepped away from him. She looked around the room, spotted her shoulder bag on the coffee table, and went to pick it up. "I'm going to go down to the lobby and call a cab. Goodbye." Without waiting for his response, she walked through the condo to the bedroom where he'd put her suitcase.

  She made it as far as the entrance door before he reached over her shoulder to keep the door closed. She put her suitcase down and turned to look up at him.

  "If you really want to go home, I'll drive you."

  Although his expression was neutral, his voice was brusque and he projected the air of a man two deep breaths away from going postal. "Thanks, but I'd rather take a cab."

  "Why?"

  "Because I've had enough of you for one night! I'm going home to change and then I'm going out to enjoy myself with a man who doesn't make me chase him only to slap me down. And this time if things start to get out of hand, I'll let them!" She opened the door.

  "The hell you will!" He shoved the door shut.

  Shocked by his sudden willingness to allow his anger free rein, she turned back to find him staring at her with a cool look in his dark eyes. "What are you doing?"

  "What the fuck do you want from me, Carae? You want me to treat you like an easy lay?"

  "I want you to let me out of here!"

  His nostrils flared and he compressed his lips before he suddenly curled his fingers in her hair and stared down into her eyes. "You are a silly little bitch."

  She'd been called a bitch before, but not by anyone who mattered, as he did. Despite her best efforts, her throat tightened and tears filled her eyes. "Then you should be glad to see me go."

  "I should be, but I'm not," he said. "And you're not going."

  "What?"

  "You want to play with fire? Let's play." He pressed her against the door with his body, bent his head, and pressed a hard, biting kiss against her mouth. He kept up the pressure on her lips, until she parted them. Then he sucked on her tongue and slipped his hands up her dress.

  The insistent kisses held none of the tender passion she'd longed to feel when he really kissed her for the first time. The hands slipping into her thong lacked the caressing quality that would have made them welcome.

  She tore her mouth away from his and shoved her hands against his shoulders. "You don't get to manhandle me because you're pissed or to be intimate without my permission and you do not have it! So take your hands off me!"

  He stepped away from her, turned, and walked away, leaving her alone in the foyer.

  She leaned against the door and allowed a few tears to trickle down her cheeks. If he thought she was going to allow him to get away with mistreating her, he was wrong. Brushing her tears away, she stormed towards the living room.

  She abruptly paused in the doorway and stared into the room.

  He sat in one of the chairs with his head down and his hands covering his face.

  His air of dejection chased the angry words she'd intended to rain down on him from her head. Feeling drawn towards him, she walked into the room and touched his shoulder.

  He groaned and wrapped his arms around her.

  She stroked her hands over his hair, longing to comfort him.

  "I'm sorry...I'm sorry."

  She bent over to kiss his hair. "I know you are."

  He rubbed his cheek against her. "Forgive me."

  "Let's forget it and start again."

  He lifted his head and stared up at her. "I'm no good for you."

  "Probably not." Cupping her palms over his face, she leaned down and kissed him. "But I want you anyway."

  He pulled her down onto his lap and buried his lips against her neck before abruptly rising and carrying her over to the sofa. He lay her gently against the back before lying next to her.

  She pressed close. As she kissed him, she stroked her hands down from his shoulders and chest to his abs.

  "Don't," he whispered before she could reach below his waist. "I'm only holding on by a heartbeat."

  Although she felt powerful in that moment because she knew she could tempt him into making love to her, she reluctantly closed her eyes and settled against him. Feeling his tension dissipate, she relaxed. "Hey, I know you didn't invite me, but are you planning to feed me while you're holding me hostage or is this strictly a bread and water gig?"

  He laughed but then delighted her by rolling on top of her. For a few sweet seconds, she felt the unmistakable outline of his cock against her body while he rained kisses against her ear, neck, and shoulders.

  Just as she was about to part her legs and invite him to slip between them, he groaned and slid off the sofa and rose.

  She stared up at him with her heart pounding and her mouth dry before she allowed her gaze to slide down his body. Even though she couldn't see the evidence of his arousal, she moistened her lips and smiled up at him.

  "I'll give you whatever the hell you want," he said, his voice brusque.

  "And if I say I want you?"

  He knelt and took her hands in his, holding them against his chest. "Oh God, Carae, please help me."

  "Help you do what?"

  "Resist you."

  "Why would I want to do that?"

  "Because you have no idea how fucked up I am."

  Considering how quickly he'd turned dark at the door, she knew he wasn't exaggerating. She also knew she still wanted a relationship with him. While she'd never considered herself one of those women who preferred bad boys, she felt drawn to him in a way she could neither e
xplain nor resist. She sighed. "This is going to be a long, damned night."

  "Too long," he said releasing her hands and rising. "Do you want to join me in the kitchen?"

  "I'd rather join you in the bedroom," she said, reaching out to hit his ass when he turned away.

  "Not tonight, honey, I have a headache."

  She laughed and rose.

  Smiling, he slipped his arm around her shoulders and walked her into the kitchen.

  He grilled steaks and vegetables. Then they sat on his private balcony eating under the stars. Later, they slow danced, exchanging occasional kisses and light caresses.

  When they said good night at one of the guest bedroom doors, he kissed her with a slow passion that she felt all the way down to her pussy. Although she was tempted to rub her body against his until he surrendered to their mutual passion, she went to bed instead and lay tossing and turning for what felt like hours.

  * * *

  With only two bedrooms separating him from Carae, Brandon found sleep elusive. His attraction to her had been immediate and powerful. He had felt so inexplicably drawn to her that he knew the attraction would have remained even if she'd been plain. Thoughts of her were never far from his mind. He longed to hold her, kiss her, caress her, fuck her, love her, and cherish her in a way he hadn't with Rissa. That knowledge increased his guilt because he felt he was according her more consideration than he'd given his sheenea.

  Carae. Why couldn't he stop thinking about her? Why was he lying there hungering for her when he could be with Laura, who he knew would welcome him back into her bed? Laura would love and soothe some of his tension and pain away. But Laura deserved better than being a substitute for anyone else—even Carae. And it was Carae he wanted and needed.

  He spent long, torturous minutes, first imagining her in scandalously skimpy lingerie that would complement her dusky complexion. Then he fantasized about raining kisses and caresses on her body while slowly undressing her. Once she was nude, he'd grip her hips and slowly lower her pussy onto his fully erect cock and thrust deeply up inside her raw.

  He needed a woman and he needed one badly before he lost his grip on reality. He got up, removed the chain with the engagement ring he'd never gotten a chance to give Rissa from around his neck, and took a cool shower. With his body still damp, he fell naked across his bed and finally slept. Before long, his dreams turned to nightmares.