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  • Home > Samantha Young > On Dublin Street Series > Castle Hill (Page 6)     
    Castle Hill(On Dublin Street #2.5)(6) by Samantha Young
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    This was one of the things I loved about him. After having starved myself of affection for years it had taken me a while to get used to Braden’s tactility but now I wouldn’t know what to do without it. His affection for me came so easily he touched and kissed me all the time, even when he was half-distracted. I’d gone from being uncomfortable with it, to expecting and coveting it.

    “Here.” I nodded, taking a reluctant step back. “I need to go to the restroom. I’ll meet you at the bar.”

    After I peed, I stood in front of the washstand, searching my face in the mirror. After the wedding Ellie had said I looked different. I hadn’t known what she meant at the time but gazing at my reflection I had to wonder if it was something different about my eyes. They were gunmetal gray and tip tilted. They weren’t warm, friendly eyes. I knew from photographs of myself that my eyes tended to come off intense, sometimes kind of bedroomy, even though most of the time it was unintended. The warmth only entered them in photographs that caught me laughing. However, staring into my eyes I could see a shift in them. The intensity hadn’t totally left them, but there was definitely something new reflected there. Something good. Something warm.

    I ducked my head, smiling as I dried my hands.

    My eyes dropped to my legs. They were bare in the sundress I’d chosen to wear in anticipation of the hot weather in Hawaii. My olive skin was ready to deepen to a tan as I lazed by the pool for the next fourteen days. Vacations weren’t something I ever bothered about because I’d lost all that stuff when I lost my family. However, I’d never been somewhere like Hawaii before. And I’d be there with my hot husband.

    Braden and I had busy lives. This was the first time we’d spend a solid fourteen nights just enjoying each other’s company with no interference from work or friends or family. Days by the pool or on the beach, and nights of hot, energetic sex.

    My smile turned smug.

    Strolling out into the departure lounge I wandered slowly toward the bar, glad at least not to be rushing around in a sweaty, flustered mess as some late passengers were. Eyes drifting over the quiet bar, I found Braden’s back facing me as he sat on a stool. The female bartender kept throwing him surreptitious looks as she pretended to be busy.

    Braden wasn’t a classically handsome guy, but he was rugged, sexy, very tall, well built, and he wore his suits better than an Armani model. Since the moment I’d met him I’d been struck by his natural confidence. It was hot. Even when it veered into arrogance, annoying the hell out of me, I still found it hot.

    So it didn’t surprise me that a lot of people found my husband attractive too.

    When we first started our no-strings-attached relationship I’d pretended not to care when I saw other women flirting with Braden. Afterwards, once I stopped putting him through the wringer and admitted that I loved him as much as he loved me, I’d found it hard not to chase the obnoxious flirts away from him. In fact, sometimes I lost my cool and wasn’t very diplomatic about telling those women that Braden was mine. Of course, he found this amusing and a total turn-on.

    Not so much when the shoe was on the other foot.

    Still, as our relationship had grown, so had my confidence in us, as had Braden’s, and together we’d mellowed somewhat. Not completely, but enough that right at that moment I didn’t want to stride up to Braden in front of the bartender and stake my claim.

    I was going on my honeymoon. I’d taken a huge leap toward putting my issues behind me by even getting married. I was in a damn good mood.

    I wanted to play.

    Hiding my mischievous grin, I smoothed my features until they were perfectly blank and sauntered toward the bar. However, I didn’t take the stool next to Braden. My heels clicked on the hard, shiny floor as I sashayed onto a stool that gave me a good view of Braden . . . on the opposite side of the bar.

    “What can I get you to drink?” the female bartender asked politely.

    “A glass of red wine, please.”

    I felt Braden’s eyes on me as the bartender turned to get me my drink. Flicking my gaze his way I saw his eyes dancing at my mischief.

    He knew exactly what I was up to.

    The bartender slid the glass of wine toward me as I attempted not to laugh.

    “Hi,” I greeted casually down the bar. “I’m Jocelyn.”

    He eyed me for a moment with those intimidating, gorgeous pale blue eyes of his. And then he obviously decided to just go with it when he slipped out of his stool and made his way over to the one next to mine. He gave me a smirk as he reached out to take my hand in his. I felt his thumb rub over my wedding rings. “Braden.”

    I gave him a small, flirty smile. “Can I get you a drink?”

    “I really should say no.” He held up his ring finger with his wedding band on it. “I’m married.”

    “Oh?” I hid my smile, feeling a rush of excitement go through me at our little game. “I didn’t realize. I take it your wife isn’t with you this evening?”

    “Apparently not,” Braden answered, his mouth twitching with definite amusement now as our eyes met.

    Pretending we weren’t at a bar in an airport but at home, my gaze turned heated in a way Braden understood. “That’s good news.”

    “It is?” he glanced down at my left hand.

    I turned my diamond so that it sparkled beautifully in the light. “Yeah, I’m married too.”

    Eyes staring into mine again, Braden’s reply was thick with a sincerity that somehow managed to be as emotional as it was sexual. “He’s a very lucky man.”

    I tilted my head flirtatiously. “That’s what I hear.”

    Braden leaned into me and I knew he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

    My smile grew. “So can I buy you a drink?”

    “I actually think I’d like that.”

    The air was charged between us as he waited for my next move. I looked away and called the bartender over. After ordering him a drink, I waited to see if Braden would keep up the pretense with me.

    “So, where are you traveling to?” he asked, his tone amused but slightly rough.

    I didn’t have to look into his eyes to know he was aroused, but I looked anyway because I needed to.

    “Hawaii.” I pressed my leg against his thigh, wishing we weren’t in a public place. I wanted his hands on me.

    “Me too.”

    “Your drink.” The bartender slid Braden’s drink to him.

    We took hold of our glasses and clinked them together.

    “Business or pleasure?” I asked saucily.

    “Oh, I’m definitely hoping pleasure,” he said as I took a sip of wine.

    Slowly I licked a drop of wine off my lower lip, triumphing over the suffocated groan it produced from the back of Braden’s throat. “That makes two of us.”

    Eyes still on my mouth, Braden’s hand tightened around his glass. “My wife wouldn’t be too pleased to find a strange woman flirting with me at a bar.”

    “Is your wife the jealous type?” I teased.

    My amusement was stifled by the intensity of our connection as our eyes held. “She can be,” he murmured.

    I sucked in a breath. “Are you the jealous type?”

    “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

    I smiled. “So you’re both a little possessive, huh? I don’t suppose she’d like what I’m thinking about doing to you, either.”

    Braden ran his gaze over my face before replying. “No, she definitely wouldn’t. But, you know . . . you remind me of my wife.”

    Chuckling, I pressed my leg harder against his. “Yeah, you remind me of my husband.”

    Eyes glittering with laughter, Braden asked, “What would your husband do if he were here right now?”

    “Well, he’s a little possessive himself, but a gentleman, so he’d be polite when he made it perfectly clear to you that I wasn’t yours to flirt with.”

    “Smart man.”

    “That’s what I hear.”

    His laughter always made me feel like I’d won something.

    I stared, relishing everything about him. Slowly, his laughter faded and we were staring at each other like we were about to start going at it right there on the bar. “Then what would he do?”

    The tingling between my legs flared to life and I felt my br**sts swell against the thin material of my sundress. Shifting closer, inhaling his familiar scent, I wished we were somewhere we could do something about being this turned on.

    “Jocelyn?”

    I cleared my throat. “He’d probably kiss me. And then he’d insist on hearing about all the things I’m going to do to him when I get him alone.”

    Braden’s eyes instantly darkened, his head descending toward mine before I could blink. His kiss was deep and hot, and I found myself clinging to him. I shivered at the feel of his hand sliding discreetly under my dress, his touch making my ni**les pebble with need. I gasped breaking our kiss.

    Barely cognizant of anything around us, I drew his ear to my lips. “As soon as I get you alone,” I whispered, “I’m going to let you f**k me as hard as you want.” I then went on to elaborate until my breathing grew hitched, and the muscles in Braden’s jaw were tense.

    In fact, every line of his body was. His hand was clamped tightly around my thigh. I dropped my forehead to the side of his jaw, trying to control my breathing.

    After a few very long minutes, Braden’s grip on me loosened and he pulled me into a hug. I nuzzled his neck, feeling the burn of unsatisfied lust. “Sorry,” I murmured against his skin.

    He stroked my back in comfort. “Don’t be. It was hot.”

    “Too hot for an airport.”

    I felt him shake slightly, obviously laughing. “Probably. I’ll take care of you later, though. And, hey, at least you don’t have a hard-on in public.”

    My turn to laugh now. Pulling back I glanced down at his lap, hidden under the bar, to see he was not lying. Glancing up into his face I said, “Your mother. Naked.”

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