Take (Need #2)

Silently seething, I watch as the cashier uses his card to ring up my lingerie purchases.

I now own sexy bras and panties that Brayden bought me.

Unfortunately, I’m not the only one watching. The girls are too.

Can they tell why he’s buying me these things? That he wants to see me wearing them?

Is it obvious that I’m aching, my clit needy and swollen because he’s the one paying for my lingerie?

I’m breathless the entire way out of Victoria’s Secret, and Brayden watches me, as if he knows why I’m having a hard time breathing.

“Cheesecake Factory, guys. I’m fucking starving.” Marilyn walks ahead of us, her blond ponytail bouncing behind her.

My way out. “Well, Brayden. It’s been real. Thanks for the—”

That damn arm drapes over my shoulders again. “I’m pretty hungry, too. Cheesecake Factory sounds perfect.”

Jenna and Ashley stare at us.

I fight to keep my face from turning red.

Thankfully, Brayden has the common sense to get his arm off me.

“You can’t go find somewhere else to eat while I hang out with my friends?”

“Nope. Plus, the girls don’t mind. Do you, girls?”

“Of course we don’t mind,” the trained little monkeys sing.

Of course they don’t.

Jenna turns, walking backwards, brown eyes fucking Brayden up and down. “You can tag along whenever you want.”





I stew in an unnerving fury as we walk to the restaurant.

Jenna doesn’t know I’m attracted to him, what I once felt for him, I remind myself. Yes, I want to freaking kill her, but she’s like this with all hot men. Always has been.

All my friends are shameless when it comes to sexy men. It’s to be expected that Marilyn and her twin Ashley keep sneaking horny glances at Brayden also.

Doesn’t matter that I know all this, how I try to rationalize it. By the time we’re in the Cheesecake Factory, my mood is beyond foul. A hostess leads us through the dimly lit restaurant toward a booth.

I stop in my tracks, fully expecting my friends to go at it, battling for the right to sit next to Brayden.

They all cram into one side of the booth, talking and giggling.

They left the other side empty for just me.

And Brayden.

That’s when panic hits. Oh no . . .

“You have to go,” I tell Brayden in a rush. They’re going to interrogate me once he leaves, and I’ll have to come up with believable lies and do so fast, but the sooner he leaves the better.

The sooner he leaves, the sooner they stop jumping to more conclusions.

Brayden pauses in the middle of reading something on his phone. Scowling, he puts it in his pocket. “Tough luck. I’m not going anywhere.”

What is he so mad at? “I’m serious, Brayden. I think my friends suspect something. I know them.”

“Tough. Luck.” He grabs my arm, practically forcing me to the booth, staring all around the restaurant with that expression that promises a beatdown.

Who is he looking for?

I want to bash him over the head for not taking me seriously. Not that I can. All I can do is slide into the booth, guilt and panic suffocating me.

The girls purposely sat together, leaving me no choice but to sit next to Brayden. If any of them had really wanted him the way they’d seemed to, it would’ve been Battle Royale among them to get to sit next to him. There’s no doubt in my mind they suspect who Brayden is to me.

The guy who destroyed me months ago.

He slides in next to me, leaving a foot of space between us. His eyes continue to flicker around the restaurant.

Ashley’s twinkling blue eyes focus on me.

I get busy studying the menu, making sure to keep my eyes away from Brayden.

Deja vu hits.

The last time I was in a restaurant with Brayden, in an eerily similar situation, I ended up getting fingered under the table.

Then, I was eaten out inside a bathroom stall.

Right before he rocked his huge cock against my * and I felt it coming in my hands.

God help me.

Arousal slaps me, gaining force. I cross my legs, my * throbbing between them. I can’t have him near me. I just can’t.

A waiter comes to take our orders.

When it’s my turn, I can’t find the strength to speak. Brayden’s at least nice enough to order something for me—the same thing he’s having, but really, at this point I don’t care.

I don’t need food. I need distance from him. Space. He’s affording me neither. Yes, there’s at least a foot between his body and mine, but just having him in the same room drives me nuts.

Brayden’s large hand lands on my knee.

I choke back a gasp. No, not again.

Please, don’t do this to me . . .

“Move over, I have to go to the bathroom,” Jenna tells Ashley and Marilyn.

“Actually, me too.” Marilyn stands.

Ashley follows her out of the booth. “I’ll go with you guys.”

Panicked, I open my mouth—

Brayden’s hand slides up, cupping my * over the thin, loose genie pants I’m wearing.

Silencing me.

The girls abandon me, without so much as a “we’ll be back.”

“Let go of me,” I say under my breath.

Brayden turns his head in my direction. The way he stares at me heats me up all over.

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