Page 8 of Fabricated

“You have no pants on,” I feel the need to point out, even though he obviously knows that, but still, to be so cocky—I snicker at myself because, apparently, I’m a child—and I’m not free of shame, while strutting around naked is a common act for Branson.

He sighs, clearly exasperated with me. “Goddammit, woman. I’ll put pants on. Stay there.”

I scoff, like I’d move now.

* * *

Branson puts me on the counter in the bathroom off the main living room. His strong hands grip my bare thighs, trailing the sides of my legs. The simple touch makes my stomach pool with heat. My eyes widen at him. His dark curls hang in front of his eyes, and he smiles at me. Damn it. That doesn’t help. I wiggle a little and see him smirk as he bends down and grabs a first aid kit. He opens it, taking an alcohol wipe out. His hand grips my chin to hold me still. He looks into my eyes before down at my lips. He licks his.

“This is going to hurt.” He isn’t talking about the cut, he’s talking about the damage he would inflict on my heart. He spoke it like a promise. As if the gods themselves had written it on a scroll to be delivered as a prophecy.

The wipe touches my cut and I flinch. “Ouch,” I whisper, looking up to him. He holds my stare as he blows lightly on the cut. Is this supposed to be erotic? Sexual? It feels like all these things.

He puts some cream on it, finishing with a butterfly bandage. His hand leaves my chin to push a stray hair behind my ear. He moves between my legs, our bodies pressing against one another. His hard dick presses into me, and I feel myself clench. The moment is suffocating in sexual tension. The air is charged with electricity. I feel so small molded against him. But the touch feels like… home. I don’t know how I know this since I’ve never had one, but I can feel this pull. It’s strange since I don’t know him. And he did just have his dick inside someone else minutes ago, but… I don’t know. I feel it.

I watch his lips as he speaks.

“You a voyeur?” he whispers.

Spell broken. Seriously, he couldn’t give us this one moment. Did he have to open his stupid mouth?

“Obviously not since I now have a cut on my face from trying to escape.”

I push on his chest. He allows it because I know I’d never be able to remove this man.

My hand connects with the knob, fully intending to leave. His hands clutch my hair. His body cages my body against the door. He inhales my hair.

“I just want to talk,” he whispers next to my ear. I shiver. God, why does he do this to me?

“I think manipulation and intimidation are more your games. I think you enjoy the attention. Creating drama for this show,” I snap, knowing we’re being filmed right now. We are never alone.

“You really think that of me?” he asks, voice low.

“I don’t know. I don’t know you. Which makes this situation seem more like a setup for the show.”

“Get to know me,” he says, his nose brushing down my neck. I close my eyes, getting lost for a moment. Letting this strange feeling flow through my body.

“Let me go, Branson.” He does, stepping back so I can walk out.

He doesn’t follow.

Chapter 5

@RayneMarshall: “When life gives you happiness, it’s usually tainted. Like Tucker’s brownies.”

Rayne

“The Lexington family is making big waves this week. The Lexington twins with their ever-growing popularity on the hit reality TV show, The Edge of Nobility. Lux Lexington isn’t far behind with her instant fame and recently joining the popular Swype House,” Peyton, the gossip host on Glitz and Glam, says.

“The Lexington family is one of my favorite families to talk about. So many theories…” I zone Mickey, the co-host, out because I find her annoying with all the rumors she tries to spread about everyone.

“Family of yours?” I ask the ever-brooding male across the room from me.

“Cousin.”

I nod. “She’s much prettier than you. I see the genes favor the female side of your family.”

He smirks. “I know. Feistier, too.” I didn’t doubt it. Lux was easily the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, but she did have mischief glittering in her eyes.

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