Bad Bridesmaid (Billionaire's Club Book 11) by Elise Faber (important books to read txt) 📕

to keep it, but I’ve been staying late and didn’t want you to have to worry about getting up.” He shrugged helplessly. “I probably shouldn’t have used it today, but I just figured you might like to read one of the books you bought—”

“You bought.”

He paused. “What?”

“You bought the books,” she said. “Not me.”

“I . . .” He hesitated, not sure where she was going with this. Her fury seemed to have dimmed somewhat, but she was still standing there, looking fierce and ready to avenge crimes. “I told you, we could figure that out later.”

“It’s later.” She took a step toward him.

“Okaaay.” He glanced around. “I probably have the receipt around here somewhere.”

She took another step, her expression so intense that he found himself wondering about serial killers again. “But this isn’t about the books,” she said, coming even closer, until her scent filled his nostrils, until the soft curves of her breasts came into contact with his chest.

Between her smell, her body, the way she kept coming closer, until her front was flush against his, and he wasn’t operating on all cylinders. “It isn’t?” he asked, confusion battling with desire now.

He pushed the latter down. He didn’t want to fuck things up with this woman.

Even though every cell in his body was telling him to yank her close and kiss her senseless, to haul her behind the screen and have a repeat of the night a few months ago.

She shook her head. “No.”

“What is it about then?”

A sexy smile curving lips begging to be kissed, but her eyes were serious and sitting heavy on his. “Stef.”

Oh. Shit.

She reached up and cupped his jaw. “Why did you do it?”

He could do nothing but tell her the truth. “You were worried about her.” A shrug. “I saw her room number and the hospital on the note you wrote. I figured I’d just poke my head in and make sure she didn’t need anything.”

“And you brought her flowers?”

Shit. Was that what this was about? Did she think that because he brought Stef flowers that he was trying to hit on another woman? That he didn’t want Heidi? That couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Baby—”

“And snacks.”

“I—uh—she’s important to you and—”

Heidi rose on tiptoe and kissed him.

Brad felt as though he’d been electrocuted, the sensation was so acute, so absolute. Heat seared into him, arrowing straight for his cock. He froze for one long moment, reveling in the feel of her against him, her lips tangling with his, before he remembered he could touch.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her even closer until he couldn’t be sure where he ended and she began. Curves filling his palms, a soft mouth on his, her tongue a sleek dart in his mouth. He gave into his earlier urge, sweeping her up into his arms, groaning when she straddled his hips, thighs clamping around his pelvis and rocking against the hard length of his erection.

And then he carried her behind the screen to his bed.

Heidi tugged her mouth from his when he laid her on the mattress, following her down, sprawling beside her, the haze of desire edging into his vision. “You brought her flowers, you wonderful man.” She cupped his cheeks, holding him still when he went to kiss her again. “And her favorite snacks, apparently. How did you know?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t. I just made an educated guess based on how much you’ve been raving about those chocolate-covered pretzels,” he admitted. “And then I figured I couldn’t go wrong with Molly’s.” A smile. “Someone really smart might have mentioned that to me once or twice.”

Her lips tipped up. “As I said, you wonderful man.”

“You’re not mad?”

Now her eyes danced with humor. “Does it seem like I’m mad?”

“Actually, now that you mention it . . .”

She snorted. “Shut up and kiss me before I forget how wonderful you are.”

That was an exceptionally easy order for him to follow.

He lowered his mouth to hers . . .

And sparks.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders, kneading the muscles there, pulling him closer until he was fully on top of her, feeling every glorious curve. He had an immediate sense of belonging, of coming home, of . . .

Heidi.

Her scent, spicy and floral, filling his nose. Her lips parting so he could sweep his tongue inside. Her legs falling open, bringing their hips in perfect alignment. Desire was a rapidly growing tempest, yanking him this way and that, reminding him of how good it had been between them, the memories of all the places she liked to be touched, of how she liked to be touched flooding forward.

He wanted to do everything at once, needed to stroke and lick, to tear off her clothes and plunge home, to—

His conscience dug its claws sharply into the sides of his brain and shook it fiercely.

Because it had been two weeks since he’d begun his campaign to win her over.

Only two weeks.

And if he really wanted to show her that he was going to stick around, he couldn’t just fall into bed with her again. Well, they were already in bed, but he couldn’t sleep with her until she knew—

A moan slipped past her lips, vibrating into his mouth, her tongue twining with his, those legs that had fallen open lifting to wrap tightly around his waist.

Naked.

He needed her naked.

His conscience gripped tighter, dug those claws in further, shook him even more intensely.

Wrenching his head back, he broke the kiss, though one look at Heidi’s face nearly had his conscience’s hooks dislodging. Grabbing on to the threads of his control, he rested his forehead on her shoulder, sweat prickling on his nape, breaths coming in rapid intervals.

But being this close to her fabulous set of breasts didn’t help his cause either.

Because they were inches away and tempting him and—

He sat up, put the entire length of the mattress between them.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Brad wasn’t able to form words yet. His cock had a fucking heartbeat and was pressing against the