Everything around me stopped.
There was no cab, no rose petals, no nosy cabdriver grinning at us in the rearview mirror, no traffic going by … nothing but Braden and a ring box that symbolized so much to me.
Years ago I’d lost everything that meant anything to me.
Losing that left me lost.
Until Braden.
I’d given him the fight of his life when he’d tried to convince me that loving him was the best thing for the both of us, but when he won, when I eventually realized the truth in that, I knew our path wouldn’t always be smooth. I’d thought if this moment ever came, I’d be searching for a brown paper bag to stem my panic attack. To my utter surprise, I felt no such thing. Yes, the fear was there.
The fear of giving in … only to lose him to life’s unpredictability. However, greater than the fear was my excitement. My excitement that this impossible, too-perceptive-for-his-own-good, arrogant, stubborn, kind, caring, sexy man was about to ask me to spend the rest of my life with him.
Braden’s pale blue eyes shone with emotion as he flipped open the ring box to reveal an elegantly simple platinum band with a princess-cut diamond perched upon a raised prong with a small diamond nestled on either side of it.
It was so me.
Shit, he knew me so well. Do not cry, do not cry!
“Jocelyn,” his voice was rough, like he was struggling to get the words out. “You’re my best friend. My everything. I love you and I want to be with you always. Marry me. I promise to try not to fuck it up if you promise to try not to fuck it up.”
I burst out laughing, tears falling without my say-so as I nodded, completely unable to speak.
Braden grinned huge and I reached for him, needing to feel his mouth on mine. My tears mingled with our heated kiss and when he finally let me go, we were both a little out of breath. He took hold of my trembling hand and slipped the ring on my finger. We both stared at the diamond glittering on my left hand. My stomach and heart were jumping all over the place.
Threading my fingers through his, I clasped his hand tight and stared into his beloved face.
“I love you,” I whispered hoarsely. “You’re my favorite person.” The tears blurred in my eyes again. “And if you ever tell anyone I cried during this moment I will withhold sex for a year.”
His warm, husky laughter spread through me as he wrapped his arms around me, hauling me close. I tightened my own arms around his shoulders, shivering with delicious anticipation as he murmured against my mouth, “I’d like to see you try.”
Cocky, arrogant caveman. “Marriage will drive the cockiness right out of you,” I murmured back.
“The only thing that’ll drive the cockiness out of me is you faking an orgasm. And I don’t see that happening any time soon.”
“Hmm.” I nuzzled my nose against his, the tingling between my legs growing more insistent.
“You’ve got a point there, Mr. Carmichael.”
***
“Mr. Carmichael, I do believe I’m tipsy,” I threw him a wonky smile over my shoulder as I turned the key in our door.
We’d just returned from having celebratory drinks with Ellie and Adam. Honestly, I think Braden and I would have preferred a quiet night in together on the night of our engagement, but Ellie was having none of that, and Alistair, my colleague at Club 39, had given us two bottles of champagne on discount, so I wasn’t complaining. It had been a fun night.
As I pushed the door open, I felt Braden’s strong hands on my hips and his warm breath on my ear as he asked softly, “Tipsy or drunk?”
I grinned, stepping into our flat with him close at my back. “Tipsy.”
It was true. I was feeling a little giddy and more talkative than usual, but my vision was clear and my coordination was intact.
“You sure?”
Turning around, I reached past him and shoved our door shut, leaning my breasts into his chest as I turned the lock. I was still grinning as I tipped my head back to meet his heated gaze. “If you’re wondering if I’m sober enough to fuck but drunk enough for it to be especially hot, the answer is yes.”
Braden fought a smile. “Have I ever told you how much I love that filthy mouth of yours?”
Yes, on many occasions. “Well, I hope so,” I teased, “because it’s going to be your filthy mouth for a long time to come.” I smoothed my hand up over his hard chest. “Speaking of coming …”
His hand on my hip tightened, drawing my eyes back to his. To my surprise he’d gone from teasing to intense. I knew that look well. My fiancé was in the mood to play “caveman.” I shivered, feeling my breasts swell with arousal. “Strip,” he uttered quietly, deadly serious.
The tingles started. “Here?”
He nodded to the space in front of him, smack-bang in the middle of our hallway. “There.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “But I get to be bossy tomorrow.”
The intensity in his eyes lightened for a second as he gave me a little nod of acquiescence. Of course he would acquiesce to that. My version of sexually bossy was insisting on being on top and although it wasn’t Braden’s favorite sexual position, he certainly enjoyed it and the view.
Eyes locked, I took a few careful steps backward until there was enough distance between us for him to enjoy the show. I shrugged out of my light blazer first, letting it pool at my feet, and then I reached for the first button on my black sleeveless silk shirt.
“Everything but the ring,” Braden murmured, his expression all smoldering as he leaned back against our front door, crossing his arms over his chest, and one ankle over the other. His pose said casual, possibly even bored. His eyes, however, were burning my not-even-naked-yet skin.
I shivered at his command, my own gaze dropping to the glitter on the fourth finger of my left hand. Braden had a possessive streak. He hadn’t even known he had one until he met me. The thought of me with someone else cut him, just like the thought of him with someone else cut me. It was part of the undeniable connection between us. More than that, I’d made it hard for him to win me over. That had not been intentional, believe me. I got the impression, however, that winning me over not only brought Braden peace, but it made him feel a bit like a conqueror. Not that he would ever admit it, but I knew my fiancé, and he definitely had caveman mentality.
Thus, I knew that having me stand before him, wearing nothing but the symbol of my promise to be only his for the rest of always, was a huge turn-on for him. And that meant it was a huge turn-on for me.
My fingers drifted from my buttoned shirt to the studs in my ears. I took them out and reached over to the sideboard, the sound of metal clinking against wood as I dropped them there filling the hallway. I then removed the necklace I was wearing, followed by my watch. Once all the jewelry but the ring was off, I went back to my shirt.
Braden’s pale eyes were already blazing.
I kept mine on him as I slowly unbuttoned my shirt, shrugging my shoulders so the fabric would slip down my arms and flutter to the ground.
The zip on my pencil skirt was next. I slid it down in increments, enjoying the way the muscle in Braden’s jaw flexed at the sound. My eyes lowered.
He was hard already.
My nipples tightened and I felt my breath hitch with anticipation.
Once my skirt fell to the ground, I stepped out of it, marveling at my own stability. I was still tipsy, and tipsy, four inch heels, and good balance usually didn’t go hand in hand. Thankfully, I kept my grace and I bent down to slip the heels off. Flat on my feet, I lifted my eyes to watch Braden again as I reached behind me for the clasp of my bra. I unhooked it but slowly peeled the straps down, teasing the fabric away from my body.
Goose bumps erupted over my breasts and areolas, my nipples hardening to little points.