Do not attack him. Do not attack him.
Brax stopped kissing me, and our breathing rasped. “Show me.”
He pushed me away gently, and I went to my suitcase. Unzipping the side pocket where I’d hidden the vibrator, I took the plastic bag with my new lingerie, and hid them behind my back. Sucking in a deep breath, I said, “I’ll be right back.”
Brax nodded. “I’ll be right here.
I retreated into the bathroom and flicked the lock. Placing the bag in the sink, I stared at my reflection. After a long flight, I was a mess, but I wanted to get it over with. I couldn’t stop feeling like it was a huge mistake.
You can do this. Just be honest. Everything else…we can work through it. It could turn out to be a good thing, the next step in our relationship. It might make us stronger.
I shed my clothes and stepped into the lacy purple G-string and matching push-up bra. The bra may have been über expensive, but it made my boobs look a million dollars, turning my C’s to generous D’s that spilled over the top.
I wanted to feel sexy and hot, but I really felt like a fraud. My snowy skin looked virginal against the smutty underwear—God, I look like a wannabe idiot dressed in her mum’s lingerie.
My fingers trembled as I unrolled the fishnets up my leg, and snapped the garter belt clips to keep them in place. Even more ridiculous.
I sighed, scowling at my reflection. I wanted sexy and crude and dirty—what I got was insecurity and regret.
Dammit, this wasn’t how I wanted to feel. New lingerie promised empowerment and sauciness. All I wanted to do was put my flannelette pyjamas on and forget the whole fiasco.
I met my eyes in the mirror. Just get it over with.
Ruffling my hair, I sucked in my belly and stepped out of the bathroom.
Brax was sprawled on the bed. He sat up on his elbows the moment I came into the room. His jaw dropped open, gaze raking over me. Desire exploded in his eyes, sparking something deep inside, overriding the fear of rejection.
Feminine power replaced self-consciousness.
Brax scooted higher, sitting on the edge of the bed. He shifted, readjusting his shorts. “Wow—”
Heat flashed with radioactive intensity, and I rushed ahead before he could say anything else, before my confidence could falter. I pulled the vibrator from behind my back. The little rabbit sticking out from the purple, glittery phallus made my cheeks flame. Oh, God, why was I doing this?
Brax swallowed, his eyes locking onto my most personal possession.
“I want us to be more adventurous,” I mumbled, hating my tongue twisting into knots. “I love you, and I love our sex life, but I just thought—well, I’d like to see—if, um….”
Brax slid off the bed, coming toward me slowly. He ripped his t-shirt off at the same time, leaving me to gape like a love-struck moron.
His face was unreadable as he murmured, “You want more?”
More. Such a dangerous word.
I shook my head. “Not more. Different.”
Pain flashed in his eyes before disappearing just as quickly.
“Not all the time. Only, sometimes…”
His hand shook as he reached for the vibrator. “You use this?” His finger hovered over the sliding power button. I couldn’t swallow—mortification closed my throat.
Sure, Tess, showing him your vibrator will be sexy and fun. I wanted to slap myself, but stood completely still, horrified by what he might say. I’d flayed myself open, bared my desires, only to risk ruining Brax’s feelings for me.
I wanted to yell—I’m joking! This isn’t the real me. But my lips glued shut; I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the vibrator in his grip.
Stupid. So stupid.
Brax slid the power switch upward and a battery powered whir filled the room. I looked away as he pressed the power higher. The phallus sprung to attention, screaming all my secrets.
“Different?” His voice echoed with loss and confusion as he stared at the vibrator. No doubt visualizing me writhing in abandon, using an object to get off instead of him. How could I explain not being intimate for weeks on end was torture?
My heart shattered. This was no longer about my needs. It was about his. I’d made him doubt, made him think he wasn’t good enough. Shit.
I grabbed the vibrator, hating it in that moment. I turned the power off, ripped out the batteries, and threw it all in the bin. “Forget it, Brax. It was a stupid idea. I just want you, okay? Please, don’t hate me.” I’m the biggest bitch in history.
He shook himself, hands falling to his sides. His gaze clouded as he stared at the floor. I knew that look. It was the same look when he awoke from a nightmare—terrified of waking up alone. “Tess, you have me. But if I’m not enough—”
“No!” I charged into his arms, tugging him to the bed. “You’re more than enough. I’m so sorry. Forget it. All of it. Please?” Now, I was the one petrified of being alone. If he didn’t think I wanted him, he’d push me away.
Panic made me fumble, and I lay down, pulling him on top. “You’re enough. More than enough. Brax, please—” Tears burned my eyes, chest straining with emotion.
His eyes dropped to my breasts, biting his lip. Ever so slowly, he caressed the soft mound of flesh. “It’s killing me to think I’m not giving you what you need.” His finger dipped lower, finding my nipple inside the bra.
My breath hitched, even though so many emotions rioted within me, my body blazed for his. I needed to connect, to put this mess behind us.
“You’re stunning. I always knew you were out of my league, and seeing you in this underwear makes me realize how sexual you are.” His voice dropped with husky undertones as he continued to touch me. “I’m not sure I can keep up with you. I love you, Tess. I love being with you, but I don’t need to fuck you to be a man. I need you as a friend, as my support. Do you understand?”
His hand dropped from my breast, skirting my stomach, dragging me into a suffocating embrace. I let him squeeze the life out of me—I needed it. I needed him to convince me he wasn’t leaving, that I didn’t just ruin our relationship.
“All I need is you. Honestly, none of that matters. I’m content, so happy, when I’m with you,” I whispered.
My chest ached so badly. Could he hear the words we’d used? I was content and he used me as support. No mention of passion or unbridled lust.
It doesn’t matter. Stop being so foolish. That’s for movies, this is real life.
Brax pulled away, eyes turbulent with embarrassment and need. I reached up, pressing my lips against his. He kissed me back like I always wanted him to—with ferocity, violence bordering on pain.
I moaned, wrapping hands in his hair, tugging closer. That’s what I needed—passion laced with pain.
He broke the kiss, breathing hard. “So, all of this? Can we pretend it never happened?”
Relief ballooned in my chest. Gone was the disappointment I would never be possessed or owned by Brax in bed. I hadn’t ruined us. I couldn’t be more thankful. “Already forgotten.”
He exhaled in a huge gust, smiling crookedly. Kissing the tip of my nose, he said, “Thank you for loving me enough to take what I can give.”
My entire body vibrated with remorse. I couldn’t reply.
Brax reached behind and undid my bra. He drew it off my breasts slowly, dipping his head to suck my nipple. Heat exploded in my core.
Brax still loved me. That’s all that mattered. Nothing else. Not kinky sex, or spicing up the bedroom. I was a very lucky girl. I am so lucky. Lucky.
I bit Brax’s collarbone and he groaned. He shifted so his rapidly hardening erection pressed into my belly.
Trembling, I eased his jeans down his hips. He arched upright, helping me get them off. Once he sprung free, he ripped off the fifty dollar knickers I’d worn for all of ten seconds, and threw them to the floor.
Brax settled between my thighs, gaze locking with mine. I bit my lip as he pressed inside. I wasn’t as wet as I should’ve b
een and the invasion was pleasure as well as pain.
His eyes snapped closed as he settled deep inside. His erection, stretching and filling, sent waves of safety rather than mind-shattering passion.
We rocked together, and he peppered me in delicate kisses, sweet affection. I grew slick around him, warming, building.
My nipples ached for attention, and I wished he’d bite me just a little, maybe then I might be able to climax.
“Tess,—” he breathed in my ear, picking up speed. His hips pressed harder and I fought the urge to touch myself, to help reach an orgasm.
With another thrust, Brax moaned, his back shuddering as his butt clenched hard. He came inside, wave after wave of ecstasy for him and simple acceptance for me. I stroked his chest, so happy he was able to find release after everything I put him through.
He collapsed on top, sandwiching me between his bulk and the mattress.
I stared at the ceiling, battling so many thoughts, not all of them making sense. Brax huffed, snuggling his face into my breasts.
Within moments, he was fast asleep, leaving me lonely and confused.
*Robin*
“Sign here, please.”
The concierge handed us the compulsory waivers. I gulped, reading the fine print. If we injured, maimed, or killed ourselves while using the hotel provided scooters, the hotel would not be held accountable. If it was such a good idea to rent these things, why the huge disclaimer?
I glanced at Brax. “You sure you want to explore Cancun on a two wheeled death machine?”
Brax bit the top of the pen, frowning at the hire contract. He flashed me a grin. No residue of fear or sadness from yesterday lingered in his face. Thank God.
“You promised this morning. You agreed today was all about what I wanted to do, and tomorrow is all about you.”
I smiled. “Fine. But, tomorrow, you are so going to put up with getting a massage with me. No moaning.”
He drew a cross over his heart and signed the paperwork with a flourish. He laughed, excitement glowing in his blue gaze. “Do you want your own bike, or dinky on the back of mine?”
No way in hell did I trust myself to weave in crazy, un-choreographed traffic in a foreign country. “I’ll go on the back of yours. You do know what you’re doing, right?”
Images came to mind of us being impaled on the bike rack on the front of a bus, or run over by a truck carrying piñatas. I shuddered.
Brax scoffed. “I’ve driven a Harley. How hard can a moped be?”
Pretty damn hard, especially with maniacs driving circles around us.
I scowled playfully. “You drove the Harley for all of ten minutes.”
Bill, a building colleague, encouraged Brax to join the local motorcycle group. Brax tried, and promptly said no, which I was super happy about, as driving without doors and a roof freaked me out.
Brax rolled his eyes, tapping the signature bit of my contract. Sticking my tongue out, I signed.
The concierge beamed and walked around the desk. We were in the lobby, and more guests had arrived, a wave of shuffling bags and smiles. The soft murmur of excitement weaved around us, layered with holiday vibes.
“Follow me, please.” The concierge, in his crisp white shirt and bright orange waistcoat, led the way.
Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. Hell, we might even get off the beaten tourist track and find something local and new.
I looped my arm through Brax’s, doubly glad I’d put on leggings and my large cream t-shirt today. The outfit offered the best protection of all the clothes I packed. I hoped the frail fabrics would safeguard if we happened to topple.
We followed the concierge out of the hotel and into the basement car park. He unlocked a canary yellow scooter and retrieved two helmets. “Please make sure you keep these with you at all times. It’s a one hundred dollar fine if you lose them.”
Brax nodded, fastening mine with dexterous fingers. His touch sent my heart thrumming. Giving me a soft smile, he fastened his own helmet and straddled the bike.
I stood there, feeling like a ridiculous, overripe pineapple. The helmet weighed a ton.
The concierge handed me an A4 map, and drew a red oval, which I assumed was the hotel.
“This is where you are.” His minty breath wafted over me as he leaned closer, stabbing the map. “If you get lost, ask a policeman for directions. They are all over the city. And don’t separate. It’s best to stay together.”
My pulse thudded a little. Policemen lurked thick in this city. Not only lurked, but loitered on street corners with weapons and guns. Were the Mexican citizens so ruthless and dangerous?
Don’t answer that. Especially when we were about to explore on a contraption offering no safety whatsoever.
Brax patted the seat behind him; I smiled weakly. Throwing my leg over, I rested my feet on the little stirrups and wrapped my arms around his torso like a python.
Chuckling, he turned on the ignition and tested the throttle. “You won’t fall off with the death grip you have, hun.”
That was the plan. I kissed his neck, loving his shiver. “I trust you.” I tried to convince myself, as much as Brax.
The concierge smiled and left us to it. Brax eased off the clutch and we shot forward. My stomach failed to catch up, but after kangaroo hopping a few times, Brax wrangled the bike into submission.
“Ready?” he said over a shoulder.
Lying, I spoke into his ear, “Yep.”
We travelled out of the gloomy parking garage and into the blazing mid-morning sunshine. Even with dirty streets, Cancun reminded me of a vibrant party.
Brax put his feet down, stabilizing the bike as we stopped on the edge of the busy road. His heart thumped under my arms, concentration making his shoulders tight.
We watched as speedsters, crazy pedestrians, and vehicles painted in more colours than the rainbow shot past. For the hundredth time, I wondered just how crash hot this idea was.
“Which way, Tessie? Left or right?”
I swivelled my head, wrinkling my nose. No break came in the traffic from either direction. North, south, east, west—it didn’t matter when everything looked as death-filled and as foreign as the other.
Impulsively, I said, “Right.” Please, let us return to the hotel in one piece!
Brax nodded, scratching his chin where the strap of the helmet strangled him. He rolled forward, his flip-flopped feet slapping on hot pavement. The bike wobbled while we waited a good ten minutes for courage to join the swarming mass of craziness.
I wanted to suggest flagging, and head to the pool—
“Hold on!” Brax sucked in his abs and twisted the accelerator. The bike whined and took off with a skid.
My heart lurched into my throat as we shot forward, narrowly dodging a cyclist with a mountain of merchandise on the back and zipped in front of a smog spewing bus.
My mouth dried in panic and arms squeezed Brax so tight, his ribcage bruised my biceps. Oh, my God! I wanted off. This isn’t my idea of fun.
Brax laughed as we straightened and drove with the mass. His happiness wrapped around us like a protective bubble, and I tried to stop hyperventilating.
My heart softened. He was enjoying this, and I wouldn’t ruin it. I trusted him to keep me safe.
* * * * *
An hour later, a waterfall of sweat ran under my t-shirt. The bright sun had landed me with a headache, and my brain felt cooked in the helmet. More than once, I’d tried to pull away from Brax’s back, but we were both so hot and sticky, it was disgusting.
We’d relaxed enough to enjoy driving through the labyrinths of streets, exploring side alleys, skirting around markets and peddlers, but now my ass ached, and my thighs had had enough of the vibrations of the scooter.
I needed a drink and somewhere cool—very, very cool.
Almost as if he heard my thoughts, Brax slowed to a stop outside a tiny, decrepit restaurant on the outskirts of the markets we’d driven around.
It looked a
nything but sanitary, with a sad donkey piñata hanging limp in the sun. The ripped plastic tablecloths didn’t encourage one to linger, and the sign was so blackened with filth, I couldn’t read the name.
“Ugh—” I exploded into a cough as a cloud of exhaust billowed from a rusty car. Very hygienic.
Brax stroked my hands, still clutched around his middle. “You okay?”
I nodded, sucking in a harsh breath. “Yep. I was going to say, surely we can find something better than this dive?”
Brax clambered off the bike, helping me off. My legs were the consistency of rubber. I’d ridden a horse in my childhood and even spread-eagled on a fat animal was better than the scooter. Going over bumps and potholes wasn’t good for my lady parts.
“I’m dying of thirst.” Pursing his lips, he took in the dank appearance. “We’ll just grab a quick drink and leave.” Brax unclipped his helmet and tied it to the handlebars. I did the same, almost puddling to the ground in relief to remove the hotbox from my lank hair.
Brax chuckled. “Bad hair day, huh?”
I reached up, running a hand through his sweaty locks. He leaned into my touch, love sparking in his eyes.
I giggled. “A helmet on a hot day doesn’t exactly equate to sexy hair.”
He pushed his big fingers into my own tangled strands. “I think you look sexy no matter what.” Running fingers down my cheek, he kept going, all the way to my hand.
Threading his fingers with mine, he leaned in, kissing me gently. “Hopefully, this place has cold drinks and ice.”
My skin was on fire and the thought of ice made my mouth water, but I shook my head. “Not allowed ice, remember? Only bottled water. Our Aussie bellies can’t handle the local H2O.”
He sighed. “Good point. Alright, I’ll just have a beer.”
“If you think you’re drinking and driving in this mess they call traffic, you have another thought coming, mister.” I laughed as we entered the gloom of the little café—if it could be called that—more like a falling down cave. The walls were peeling and tacky posters hung sticky-taped in random places, hiding pockmarking in the plaster. I frowned… they looked just like— Hell, are they bullet holes?