Branch took her hand, moved out of in front of her, turned and swept her with an arm before rolling out of bed.
He set her on her feet in front of him, her hands now on his chest, her head tipped back, the dawning sun no match to her dazzling smile that felt like it lit the dusky room.
“Now that’s the way a woman wants to be pulled out of bed every morning,” she said through her smile.
“So noted. Shower?” he asked.
She leaned into him, pressing her breasts to her forearms against his chest.
“Definitely.”
She whooped as he swept her up in his arms and carried her to the shower.
And hearing it, having her where she was, he almost smiled.
Almost.
* * *
“That’s not good news,” Evangeline said.
No, it fucking wasn’t.
They were in her kitchen. She was putzing around. He thought it was cute. And she’d just pushed a travel mug of coffee in his hand because he was dressed, had her lipstick around his cock, her jewel still up his ass, and he was about to walk out the door.
But he’d told her tonight was out because he had work.
“I’d say I’d come to you when I’m done but I won’t be done until at least four, four thirty.”
She stopped what she was doing and looked to him, her eyes big.
“Yowza.”
Fucking Evangeline.
No end to the cute.
He ignored that and carried on.
“I don’t want you to have that hassle. I’ll go home and sleep it off and see you tomorrow.”
“You can sleep it off here.”
“Come again?”
She shook her head and he felt it in his gut with how she looked away and mumbled, “Nothing.” She raised her voice and went back to pouring milk into instant oatmeal as she said, “Work is work, Branch. I get it. A lot of the time I have to work nights and weekends too.” She put the milk aside and turned to him with a small grin. “More time to get primed.”
He wasn’t feeling like her change in subject.
“You want me to sleep it off here?”
The grin faded and she shook her head. “After working all night, you don’t want to sleep tied to a bed, not that that was what I meant,” she said the last hurriedly. “You could just sleep. After working that late, you’ll need to get rested. Just that, well, it just came out. I mean, you probably have a nice house and a nice bed and—”
“My condo’s a dump and my bed is lumpy.”
She said nothing and just stared at him.
“Except for when I show, will you even be here?” he asked. “You’ll have to get to work and I’ll still be wanting some shut-eye.”
“It just came out, Branch. I wasn’t thinking.”
“I’ll show and you won’t work me. Just crawl into bed with you and sleep here?” he pushed.
“I know what this is,” she whispered suddenly, looking like he’d never seen her look.
Miserable.
“Don’t worry,” she continued. “I know what this is. Aryas made that clear. But while I have you…” she trailed off, shook her head. “I just like you around and I didn’t think. Just let the words come out.”
Branch stood there, feeling too much, and stared at her.
But in all the too much he was feeling, the thing he felt the most was hating like fuck that look on her face.
She tried to force it off with a smile but he knew her smile. It was burned into his soul.
And the one she was giving him was fake.
“Tomorrow, after dinner, I’ll introduce you to my playroom.”
“I like that you like me around.”
Yup.
He’d just said that.
Fuck.
Something like wonder filled her face.
Fuck.
“Tell me the code to your alarm, Angie, because you’re gonna set that fucker and I don’t want to set it off at five in the morning when I show.”
That made her face light and he wasn’t an asshole.
He was a motherfucker.
Because he wanted to sleep in her bed with her, even if for an hour, then stay in it after she left because she wanted him to and not because her bed was comfortable, even if he was tied to it.
But because he was going to give it to her because she wanted it and he couldn’t hack her looking like she’d looked, thinking she’d fucked up, thinking she wouldn’t get what she wanted because he’d made it clear it wasn’t hers to have.
Christ, he could barely sit on her couch without bolting.
And he couldn’t believe he was standing in her kitchen with a travel mug of coffee in his hand that she’d made like he was her man and he’d earned the privilege to stand right there.
And now he was going to let himself in and crawl in bed with her like he belonged there.
Giving her indication that might be someplace he’d eventually belong.
Yep.
Total motherfucker.
“Eight, two, eight, eight,” she stated immediately.
All other thoughts fled as Branch felt his brows snap together. “You got a security code with three of the same digits in it?”
“Oh no,” she fake cried, “not another heartfelt lecture about how I need to stay safe. I already promised not to skip down the stairs and I like skipping. I can’t take more, Branch.”
“Total smartass,” he muttered.
She gave him another happy smile.
He did his best to ignore it, a best that was not good enough.
“Change the code, Evangeline. But do it tomorrow, so I can get in without raising a holy racket and waking that sweet ass of yours up.”
She kept smiling.
He wanted to walk to her and kiss it off her face.
Instead he turned to the door.
“Branch?” she called.
He had it opened and turned back.
“Your ass is sweeter,” she declared.
“Love you love my ass, honey,” he said low and watched his tone register in her face, seeing it soften, and knowing the motherfucker he was he’d give her that again too so he’d see more of that look. “And it loves you. But trust me on this. I might not have got my hands on it yet, but still. Your ass is way sweeter.”
He didn’t let her say dick.
Before she could crawl deeper into his soul, he walked out the door.
* * *
“It’s cool you doin’ this, Branch,” Pat said.
Branch was in the control room at the Honey. The large bank of monitors that filled one wall were all either showing active playrooms, static views of the area around the building, reception, or two wide angles that offered views to the entirety of the large bar space the members called the hunting ground. There were also monitors with constantly shifting views of the maze of halls, and also two with views of the smaller bar that was deeper in the building, the social room.
“Not a problem,” Branch replied, walking in, eyes to the monitors, seeing Olly and Leigh sitting in a booth, curled into each other and chatting.
Ol had been trying to get hold of him now for weeks. But his head had been fucked from the minute he’d walked out of Aryas’s red room, turning down the promise Evangeline had written all over her, and he’d avoided his calls.
Ol was in love, living with his woman, and he had it all. A classy Mistress that did it for him and an amazing lady in his life, sharing his home and bed with her, who also did it for him.
In that state, anyone wanted to spread that goodness.
And Ol had been riding his ass, if cautiously and being cool about it, but he didn’t let up about Branch finding the same since the minute, in a moment of weakness (something he seemed to be getting way too fucking much lately), Branch had shared they were brothers in more than the fact they both had a dick.
After walking away from Evangeline, he couldn’t deal with more of that.
Now, he definitely couldn’t.
“Shit doesn’t happen much,” Pat said and Branch looked back to him. “Only need one man on the monitors. You’d think it’d be awesome, but you get it night after night…” He shrugged. “So we usually trade off. Half hour on. Half hour off. You’re out of this room, you patrol. Hunting ground. Social. Halls. Outside. Rich, the bartender in the hunting ground, and Matt, a server assigned to social tonight, can be called in if shit goes down, which it won’t ’cause it never does, but it’s in their job description. I’ll take first shift on monitors and you patrol.”