Colton and the Single Mom Read online

  In response, she kissed him again. This time, the kiss was hotter, passion flaring and spiraling higher. Brayden probed her mouth, caressing and licking until she moaned softly. He growled when she sucked his tongue, taking him deeper, showing him how much she wanted him. This time, when she raised her head, they were both breathing hard. “Did that feel like pity?”

  “No.” His voice was husky. “But it felt like something we should talk about.”

  Esmée shook her head. “No talking. No thinking. We don’t have to analyze it. Neither of us wants a relationship. We both know where this is leading. Let’s allow it to take us there. Let’s just enjoy this.”

  “You’re sure?” When she nodded, he stood. Reaching out a hand, he drew her to her feet. “Then I think we should let it take us to the bedroom.”

  Chapter 12

  Even though he had never been so aroused, Brayden was conscious of the need to get this right. Esmée had said neither of them wanted a relationship, but they were already important to each other. It might not be a romance, it might not be forever, but it mattered. The friendship that had developed between them so rapidly meant this wasn’t a one-night stand. They couldn’t walk away with a shrug of their shoulders.

  And I don’t want that.

  As he lay on the bed, turning on his side to face her, he wasn’t sure what the thought meant. He only knew there was no going back from this breathtaking moment. Sliding a hand down Esmée’s back, he pulled her gently against him.

  “Holding you like this is heaven.”

  She pressed her lips to the hollow of his throat. “I haven’t done this for a very long time...not since before Rhys was born.”

  “Anytime you want to slow down, tell me. Or stop. We can stop if you need to.”

  She gave a throaty chuckle. “What if I want to go faster?”

  “I’m good with that.” He raised his head to look at her. “Just tell me what you want, Esmée.”

  “You.” There was no trace of laughter in her expression now. “I want you, Brayden. I’m aching for you.”

  Her words made his breath catch in his throat. “Can I touch you?”

  She leaned back, creating a slight gap between them. Taking his hand, she guided it over the soft, warm flesh of her stomach and inside the waistband of her jeans. The tight material made it impossible for him to move his fingertips any farther. Keeping his eyes on hers, Brayden reached for the fastening on her jeans with his other hand. He held his breath, hoping nervousness and clumsiness wouldn’t ruin the moment. Although his fingers were trembling slightly, he managed to undo Esmée’s button and zipper and separate the two halves of material.

  He snatched a breath as his fingertips moved inside her underwear and brushed silken curls. His erection pulsed hard, demanding release, and his heart hammered a wild beat. As he ignored the needs of his own body, Esmée caught hold of his wrist, moving his hand lower until he encountered velvet heat.

  “Yes. Right there.”

  He used one finger to spread her wider, probing down and deep. Esmée jerked her hips upward, grinding against his touch, her whole body shuddering. Holding her tight to him, he slowly stroked her, finding her small, firm bud deliciously slick under his touch. She whimpered and arched her back as he circled it before returning to trace the length of her slit.

  Esmée’s eyes were glazed as he outlined her nipples through her T-shirt and bra with his other hand. “Oh, Brayden, I can’t...”

  Her voice faded as he crooked the tip of his finger into her entrance. Lifting her hips, she attempted to draw him deeper into her. Her breathing was ragged as moans left her lips in a constant soft murmur. From the way her stomach muscles fluttered and her legs jerked against his, Brayden could tell she was close. He was right.

  Abruptly, Esmée stopped breathing. Her whole body convulsed, then she gave a cry as her inner muscles tightened around him. Brayden pulled her into a tight embrace, slowing the teasing movement of his fingers as he stroked along her spine, taking her through each wild aftershock, until she gave a final sigh and rested her head on his chest.

  “That was so good,” she whispered. “So amazing. I have been dreaming of your touch for days.”

  He brushed his lips over her forehead, and she made a quiet murmuring noise as she burrowed in closer to him.

  “I’m a little out of practice.” He whispered the words against the shell of her ear.

  “If that was out of practice, I can’t wait for what happens next.”

  He was still, listening to her breathing and remembering the tight heat of her body. Not rushing things. He was achingly hard, and he drew in a shuddering breath as Esmée reached down to stroke him through the cloth of his jeans. His erection twitched and he heard her inhale sharply as she felt the movement.

  “Do you know what I want to happen next, Brayden?” Her voice was soft and tempting. “I want all of you. Right now.”

  She lifted her leg over his, her thigh pressing into his arousal, warm and hard. The temptation to grind himself into her through their clothing was exquisite torture. Instead, Brayden stared into her glittering, dark eyes as she shifted position until she was straddling him. Gripping the hem of her T-shirt, she lifted it up and over her head. Her bra followed, and Brayden gave a groan as he reached to cup her breasts, marveling at her firm, smooth flesh.

  “Need to lose the rest of the clothes.” He was having trouble speaking.

  Esmée shifted back to his side and finesse was forgotten as they removed their remaining garments. “Protection?” The word was a gasp and he was glad he wasn’t the only one whose ability to talk appeared to have been affected.

  Brayden reached into the drawer of the locker at the side of his bed and found the box of condoms. He’d never brought a woman back to his house, had never planned to do so. He replaced the box when the expiration date was up, taking one out to keep in his wallet. Now and then, he’d considered not bothering. Then he remembered Ava’s laughter and the baby that had never been. His encounters since then had been few and brief, but he’d always been prepared. Right now, he was thankful for his own foresight.

  Esmée laid back, watching him as he sheathed himself. Her eyes on his body took his arousal to new heights. When he moved into position over her, she wound her arms around his neck, drawing his mouth down to hers in a long, slow kiss. Brayden’s control shattered as he claimed her mouth. His fingers dug hard into her ribs, holding her as if he would never let her go. He kissed her like he owned her, as if he was branding that truth into them both forever, not caring if his body was giving a different message to the words they’d spoken earlier. Esmée moaned as she parted her lips, and he slid his tongue into her mouth, relishing the taste of her.

  Moving his hand between them, Brayden slid his fingers along her folds, parting her and savoring her heat as he pressed against her.

  Esmée whimpered against his lips. “Now, please.”

  He moved his hands down her smooth thighs and over her hips to her buttocks, lifting her to him as he pushed into her. And it was the sweetest heaven.

  “Esmée...” He pressed his forehead to hers, his whole body shaking with emotion. “You feel amazing.”

  He could see his own wonder reflected back at him in her eyes. Even though every inch of their bodies was touching—even though he was inside her—this enchantment he was feeling wasn’t just physical. This was about their unique chemistry. For the first time, he truly understood what sex was about. It was an affirmation. It was about showing Esmée, with his body, the meaning of their connection. It was the ultimate expression of what she meant to him. And what she meant to him was...

  “Can’t wait.” Esmée started to move as she spoke, cleaving tighter to him and rocking her pelvis against his. Those tiny incremental motions triggered a fire in Brayden’s bloodstream. Her smooth skin, her soft lips, her hard nipples, the tight, w
elcoming heat of her body... Rational thought deserted him as he drove into her, deep and hard.

  Esmée hissed out a breath, her nails tracing the muscles of his back. “Yes. Like that.”

  Brayden knew he couldn’t last long. “Too perfect.”

  His groans mingled with Esmée’s sighs. She lifted her hips in time with his rhythm as he pulled out and slammed into her again, grinding, pushing back against him, driving onward. Esmée reached up a hand, tangling it in his hair and pulling him down so she could kiss him. Brayden felt her start to tremble beneath him.

  His own release hit as she was thrashing wildly and calling out his name. His stomach muscles clenched and his vision faded. Ecstasy took hold of him, flinging him into the abyss and locking him into wave after wave of pure, white heat. Aftershocks kept him shuddering as Esmée clung to him.

  Eventually, he slumped forward, taking his weight on his elbows as, breathing hard, he kissed up her neck and across her jawline. She murmured softly in response, a wordless, appreciative sound that acted like a soothing balm.

  Reluctant to end the sweet moment of intimacy, but wanting to hold her, Brayden eased onto his side and drew her into his arms. Esmée nestled into him. “Seems like we both had a lot to get out of our systems,” she said.

  He snorted. “You think that was a release of frustration?”

  She tilted her head up to look at him. “No. I think it was about us, about something special we created. How about you?”

  “It wasn’t what I imagined.”

  She looked disappointed. “No?”

  “My imagination isn’t that good.” He pulled her tight against him. “It was better than anything I could have dreamed. Take my wildest fantasy and multiply it by a thousand.”

  Her smile was wicked as she kissed along his collarbone. “Next time we should try for a bigger number.”

  * * *

  Esmée couldn’t sleep. The room was almost completely dark and Brayden’s soft, rhythmic breathing was the only sound. Her body was relaxed. She smiled to herself at the thought. Relaxed? She felt weightless. As though euphoria had seeped through her pores and into her bones.

  Her mind was equally soothed. Like a pond on a sunny day, it was ripple-free, taking her back to a time before she knew what stress felt like.

  So why can’t I sleep?

  A tiny voice—that 4:00 a.m. voice—at the back of her mind was insistently trying to tell her the reason and she was doing her best to ignore it. The voice won and she gave a sigh as she allowed it to be heard.

  It was like Brayden had said. It was too perfect.

  She turned her head. Although she could barely see Brayden in the darkness, she could make out his outline. He was lying on his side, facing her. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t touching her. From now on, she would always feel like he was touching her. There could be no going back from what they had shared.

  Esmée had been the one to suggest they should give in to the physical attraction between them. They had been stepping around it ever since they’d first met and the heat had been building and growing until it had threatened to consume them. And it had consumed them. Only not in the way they’d expected.

  Sex hadn’t extinguished their fire. Instead, it had become an inferno, blazing out of control. But it was no longer just physical...and they had both recognized the change. She knew Brayden had acknowledged it to himself as well, even though they hadn’t talked about it. We had other things on our minds.

  She just didn’t know what to do with all these new feelings. Maybe she felt this way about Brayden because he was the opposite of Gwyn? Because he was strong, protective and considerate? Especially now, when she was in danger, those traits made him particularly appealing. When she was wrapped in his strong arms, she could pretend there wasn’t a man built like a block of granite who had made two attempts on her life.

  Even as the thought occurred to her, she dismissed it. Of course, she found Brayden’s strength and ability to care for her and Rhys attractive. She was also drawn to his gorgeous eyes and his smile, but they didn’t define him. Nor had amazing sex somehow magically transformed her opinion. It had only confirmed it. She was captivated by everything about him. From the first moment of meeting him, she had seen beneath the taciturn exterior to the warm heart beneath.

  I’m in trouble and getting in deeper by the minute. If that was the case, why was she moving closer so she could share his warmth and breathe in his delicious, masculine scent? As she did, Brayden murmured something unintelligible. Esmée decided she may as well put her restlessness to good use instead of waking him. Sliding carefully from the bed, she fumbled in the dark for something to wear. Finding Brayden’s discarded T-shirt, she pulled it on.

  In the kitchen, she snagged a bottle of water from the fridge and took it through to the family room. Switching on a lamp, she curled into a corner of the sofa and picked up the notebook she had been reading earlier in the evening. Within minutes she was back in Jack’s world. Ten years ago, he had been investigating a daring armed robbery from a safe-deposit-box facility.

  The case appeared to be something of a personal crusade for Jack. He had clearly gone back over time and updated his original record whenever he received new information. His notes included a scathing criticism of the press coverage of the case. Jack seemed to feel that journalists made the criminals appear classy and clever while ignoring the fact that a security guard was killed during the raid. No one was ever convicted for the guard’s murder. Items stolen from safe-deposit boxes included gold, jewels and precious stones, along with a collection of rare blue diamonds. Although some items had been recovered, the diamonds had disappeared without a trace.

  Although Jack was convinced he knew who the getaway driver was, he had been unable to get the evidence needed for a conviction. The name jumped out at Esmée as she read her friend’s account of his attempts to secure an arrest. Richie Lyman. No wonder Jack had recognized Richie when he saw him in Red Ridge. And naturally he had warned Sarah about the man he was certain had driven the getaway car for a hardened criminal gang. With all his years of experience, Jack knew better than anyone that, if Richie was mixing with a criminal gang ten years ago, he was unlikely to have fixed his ways and gone straight since then.

  Another interesting piece of information caught her eye. Jack had a theory about the name of the man who had killed the security guard. Roper Keene was a thug who was feared even by his fellow gang members. There was speculation that Keene had double-crossed the others and removed the blue diamonds from the heist before the proceeds had been split.

  The information that had her reaching for her laptop made her heart beat a little faster. Once again, she said a silent word of thanks to Jack for his meticulous record-keeping. It was just one sentence, but it could make all the difference to their current case.

  Roper Keene, former heavyweight boxer...

  * * *

  Brayden came awake slowly, aware of a sense of well-being that was like a warm, comforting blanket. The faint light through the thin drapes told him the sun wasn’t fully up. The empty pillow next to him told him Esmée was gone.

  He sat up, scrubbing a hand across his face to dispel the last traces of sleep. His feeling of happiness disappeared like bubbles popping on the surface in a glass of soda. Why wasn’t she here? Was she regretting what had happened? Had he said, or done, something wrong?

  He drew a breath, fighting off the demons of self-doubt. When he’d fallen asleep, Esmée had been nestled in his arms. The closeness between them hadn’t been his imagination and nothing could have changed while he’d been asleep. What he needed to do now was stop focusing on himself and find out where she was.

  For some reason, he couldn’t find his T-shirt. Impatiently, he pulled on his boxer-briefs and stepped into the hall. A faint glow from the direction of the family room alerted him to Esmée’s whereabouts.
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  He paused in the doorway for a moment, watching her without announcing his presence. She was seated on the sofa, her bare legs tucked under her and her hair tumbling about her shoulders. Her gaze was fixed on the screen of her laptop as her fingers flew impatiently over the keyboard.

  Brayden must have made a sound, because she glanced up, her face breaking into a smile. And that smile undid him. It was as if his heart went on a bungee jump, plummeting wildly toward his feet before swooping up again to lodge in his throat. By the time it had completed its journey, Esmée was on her feet.

  “You were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you.” Her body was warm and soft against his as she stood on the tips of her toes and wound her arms around his neck.

  Any thoughts that she may have changed her mind flew out of his head as he lowered his head and claimed her lips. “Just so we’re clear, I will never object to being woken by you.”

  He made the interesting discovery that she was naked beneath his T-shirt and his hands roamed over the curves of her buttocks. Esmée squirmed with pleasure. “Just hold on to that thought while I show you something.”

  She led him toward her laptop and Brayden grumbled as she pulled him down onto the sofa next to her. “When you said you were going to show me something...”

  Even in the lamplight, he saw the color that tinged her cheeks. “I need you to be serious for a few minutes.”

  “I was being serious.” He encountered a reproachful look and held up his hands. “Okay, I’m listening.”

  She positioned the laptop so it rested on both of their knees. She had been looking at a boxing site that collated information about fighters and shared it with fans. The page on the screen had statistics about a fighter named Roper Keene. Although he hadn’t fought for over twelve years, his record was impressive.

  “Keene won every one of his professional fights, most of them through knockouts.” Esmée pointed to the information on the screen.