Page 72 of Second-Rate Superstar
And then what happens? *Eyes emoji*
Braxton:Then I’ll be forced to come over there at this late hour and punish you.
I was hoping he’d say that. Yesterday, I’d gone to my first pre-paid waxing appointment that Hannah had set up for me, and today, I spent hours with the sound of grunts and groans in my ears as I typed out close to six thousand words. I’d been on edge and in desperate need of release. I could have taken care of it myself, but why should I when I had a boyfriend on the other side of town, who’d made it no secret that he was looking forward to more physical activities with me?
But I’m only trying to learn. *Pouty face*
Braxton:One . . .
*Shrugging woman emoji*
Braxton:Two . . . This is not an empty threat.
*Smirk emoji*
Braxton:Final warning. No taking it back once I reach the final count.
*Smiling devilemoji*
Braxton:Three. Now you’ve done it.
*Angel face emoji* But I didn’t do anything.
Braxton:*Growls* Just for that, when I get there, we ARE going to spend all night watching hockey.
That’s what he thought. But who was I to tell him otherwise?
Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at my front door. I could only imagine he’d broken every speed limit in town to get to me—usually, it took twenty-five minutes door to door.
Ruffling my curls, I took a moment to peek at myself in the hallway mirror before answering the door.
Showtime.
Turning the deadbolt slowly so Braxton could hear it, I called out through the thick wood, “Who is it?”
There was a rumble from the other side. “The time for games is over, Dakota.”
Biting back a smile, my voice took on a sickeningly sweet quality. “But I thought you came over here because youwantedto watch a game?”
I was poking the bear but pressed my thighs together in anticipation of what would happen when he lost the grip on his control. He wasn’t there yet, but he would be soon if I had anything to say about it.
Braxton’s words were clipped. “Open. The. Door. Now.”
“So bossy,” I teased, throwing the door wide open.
The sight that met me did nothing to cool the arousal simmering beneath my skin. Braxton looked dark and dangerous cast in the glow of the porch light, a wolfish glint to his eyes.
Gripping both sides of the doorframe, he leaned in, his mouth a breath away from mine. “You’ve been playing a little too close to the fire, sweetheart. If you’re not careful, you’re going to get burned.”
God, yes.
How many years had I watched as others enjoyed sex? Whether it was Bristol, the people performing on my computer screen, or even the characters I wrote?
It was finally my turn.
Not that I was ready to jump in with both feet, but if I knew Braxton like I thought I did, he wouldn’t pressure me. We could have a little fun and both feel good. That was my aim tonight.
“I’m sorry?” I phrased the apology like a question on purpose and batted my eyelashes at Braxton looming above me.
