Page 24 of Chilled and Thrilled

Okay, that was not what I was going to say. I was going to tell him I had no interest, ninety-four percent match or not. Somewhere between my brain and my mouth, my vagina (definitely not my heart) took over.

Bram leans forward, his warm brown eyes searching my face. “No,” he says at last. “Actually, I’m going to marry you.”

Everything, from the snow outside to my own heartbeat, seems to slow. “That’s not funny,” I whisper, frantic, because he can’t be serious. “You and I are not an option, Bram. Marrying me isn’t on the menu!”

The man across from me smiles slightly, “We’ll see.”

Disarmed by his quiet, calm certainty, I let out a groan and my head drops back against the wall. Hard. Again.

“Mother fucking fuck—” I squeal, squeezing my eyes shut and pressing both hands over the back of my violently throbbing skull. Tears are leaking from between my eyelids, and the pain seems to remove whatever stopper I was using to keep my feelings bottled up, because I start crying.

Warm hands gently wrap around my wrists, pulling them apart so Bram can examine my head again. “Come here, Sophie.”

Bottom lip trembling and too emotional to resist, I turn toward the quiet, familiar voice of the man I absolutely shouldn’t be doing any of this with. For the second time today, an arm wraps around my waist while another cradles my legs, and a moment later I’m being lifted against a hard, bare chest.

Bram doesn’t seem to mind that I’m sobbing into his shoulder, my tears soaking his skin. On the contrary, he murmurs gentle, reassuring words to me as he carries me back through the house. I’m not really aware of where we’re going until he’s setting me back against an enormous, fluffy pillow pile.

My eyes snap open and I sniff, looking around Bram’s bedroom as the man himself moves away from me. It’s dark in here, with only the indirect light from the en suite spilling out over the spacious room. A few seconds later, Bram steps out of the bathroom with a glass of water in his hand, crossing back to me.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, shaking my head as I take the offered water with a halfhearted smile. “There’s no way it’s normal to cry this much. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“You did have a fairly eventful day,” Bram replies calmly, crossing his arms. “Are you feeling better?”

I nod, and oddly, I really am. To give myself a minute to think, I take a long sip from my glass. How did I get here? One minute I was at work, minding my own business. The next, I’m burying some brand-new trauma, snowed in with Bram, sitting on his bed with stitches in my scalp while wearing his clothes and sporting an ache between my legs from taking his monster cock. Also, he said he was going to marry me.

No wonder I’m a hot mess.

“I should probably go to bed,” I murmur, gazing at the shadowed man above me, trying to ignore the persistent, needy tug below my belly button.

Nodding slowly, Bram draws nearer. “Stay here tonight,” he requests quietly.

The air vanishes from my lungs.

I’m going to say no. Even if my vagina and heart are screaming in opposition to that decision. Staying would be the exact opposite of the point I was trying to make. I can’t do it. It would be such a bad idea.

“Okay,” I hear myself say, and suck in an unsteady breath as Bram reaches out to tilt my chin up, lowering his lips to brush mine.

I melt. In seconds, my arms have looped up around his neck, pulling him closer as we kiss slowly. Bedding rustles beneath me as Bram’s arm winds around my waist, guiding me back onto the soft mattress. Despite the pounding in my skull and earlier proclamation that this could never happen again, my body is already warming for him.

The smug asshole knows it too.

Bram eases me back into the pillows, careful to make sure there’s no direct pressure on my head. His big, hard body is hovering over mine and my breath catches when he sits back on his heels. We watch as he gathers my borrowed T-shirt in both hands, guiding it up over my tummy, breasts, and chest.Hating myself for my weakness but unable to resist, I help him pull the garment over my head, tossing it beside the bed. The sweatpants go next, leaving me naked before him, my legs spread wide.

Blowing out a long, uneven breath, Bram’s eyes rake over me in the semi-darkness. “Are you sore?” he asks at last, and the dark, possessive tone makes the muscles of my inner thighs feel warm and loose.

“Yes,” I whisper, trembling as he presses one hand between my legs, cupping my tender sex. One finger teases my opening, circling and exerting just enough pressure to make me pant. It’s a slow, teasing exploration, one that has me dripping all over his hand in seconds.

Humming in quiet acknowledgement, Bram presses a second finger down, still not penetrating me. “I need to know which boxes you checked on that app, Sophie.” Obviously able to see my deer-in-headlights look, he shakes his head, chuckling quietly. “You don’t have to be embarrassed with me, sweetheart, I want the same things you do.”

“Have you…” I swallow, shifting restlessly. “Have you done a lot of that stuff before?”

“I have.”

Cue the jealousy. It’s irrational, considering Bram has been sexually active longer than I’ve been alive, and this isn’t supposed to be happening in the first place, but a sour taste fills my mouth at the thought of him touching another woman the way he’s touching me.

Oh, god. This is so bad.

“You’re freaking out again.” Bram bows forward, and I gasp as his lips skim the hollow between my breasts, five o’clock shadow rasping over the delicate skin and raising goosebumps all over my body.

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