Always the Baker

Chapter 11

11

B illie

Two Days Later

I’m not exactly sure how us getting dressed for dinner led to us fucking. Well, he warned me that fishnet stockings turned him on when he saw them on his bed. I guess I didn’t take him seriously as I dressed—until he ripped them and my dress off me. When I told him how much it cost, he told me he’d buy a thousand just like it. Now, he was seated on the edge of the bed, using my braids to bounce me up and down on his dick from behind. In a slight squat, I gripped his knees as I rode him reverse cowgirl. My toes curled against his thick carpet as I moaned and whined.

“That’s it, Billie. Fuck me, sweetheart. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

The sound of his low chants made my spine tingle and body warm. I was close, and if he kept talking, I would cum soon. His grip on my hair tightened as my walls tightened against him. “I love the sound of your moans,” he muttered, reaching forward to tweak my nipple.

“Brax.”

My rhythm grew sporadic as I came. He waited until my orgasm subsided to stand and shift me, then he put me on the bed. Arching my back, Brax held me in place as he fucked me hard and fast. I gripped the sheets and tried to match his rhythm, but it was no use. All I could do was let him have his pleasurable way with me. The way he could go from making love to me to fucking me should have been studied. I loved every way he slutted me out. I loved feeling his cum slip out of me.

I felt his body quake when I told him, “Ooh, you fucking me just right, pooh. I feel that dick in my stomach. I’m about to cum all over you.”

Brax growled and smacked my ass before gripping it as he came… while I did the same. I fell onto the bed and tried to regulate my breathing. Once I was composed, I stood and headed to the bathroom. We decided to hop in the shower again, which led to him delivering slow strokes as he held me against the stone wall. Our lips remained connected through moans and muttered curses because his kisses were too good to deny myself of. After that, we showered and promised to stay away from each other until we were fully dressed and out of the door.

I was basking in the afterglow of an amazing evening of lounge hopping and dinner with Brax when he hit me with a curveball.

“So, Billie, I’d love to see this mural project you’ve been working on,” he said, flashing that heart-stopping smile of his.

My stomach dropped. “Oh, um, the mural?” I repeated, frantically trying to come up with an excuse. “It’s not really ready for visitors yet. Still a work in progress.”

Brax leaned in. “I don’t mind if it’s not finished. I’d love to see your artistic process.”

I fidgeted with my napkin, avoiding his gaze. “It’s a bit of a mess right now. Paint everywhere, sketches all over the place. Not exactly presentable.”

“Sounds perfect to me.” Brax chuckled. “I love seeing creative chaos. You should see me when I’m writing songs.”

My mind raced, trying to figure out how to get out of this without admitting the truth. I couldn’t let him see my nonexistent mural project. He’d realize I was just a nobody pretending to be an artist in the big city.

“Maybe another time?” I suggested weakly, hating the disappointment that flashed across his face.

“Sure, no pressure,” Brax said, but I could tell he was confused by my reluctance.

I felt awful. Here was this amazing guy, genuinely interested in my work, and I was lying to his face. But what choice did I have? The truth would shatter this magical getaway faster than you could say fraud.

“I’m just particular about who sees my work before it’s done. Artist quirk, I guess.”

Brax nodded, seeming to accept that more. “I get it. We musicians can be the same way about our unfinished songs.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for his understanding. But the guilt still gnawed at me. How long could I keep up this charade?

As we left the restaurant, I thought the conversation was over… but he started up again. It was like he knew I was hiding something and wanted to watch me break. “Okay, that’s a no on the mural, but you do have a studio at least, don’t you, Bill? I really want to see some of your work… Get a glimpse of your artistic process. It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

My heart raced. I couldn’t let him see a studio that didn’t exist. I bit my lip, desperately searching for a way out. Suddenly, an idea hit me.

“I can show you some stuff on my phone, but you know what? I’ve got a better idea. There’s this amazing little jazz club downtown. Why don’t we check that out instead? It’s way more exciting than my messy studio.”

Brax raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued. “A jazz club, huh? Didn’t peg you for a jazz fan.”

I laughed, hoping it didn’t sound as nervous as I felt. “Oh, there’s a lot you don’t know about me, pooh. I’m full of surprises.”

“Aight, Hopkins. Lead the way. I’m curious to see what other hidden talents and interests you’ve got, mystery girl.”

I couldn’t help but feel a mix of relief and guilt. I’d dodged a bullet, but for how long? This whole trip was turning into one big lie, and I was starting to wonder if it was worth it. But then Brax smiled at me, and I pushed those thoughts aside. One more night of pretend, that’s all I needed.

Brax drove tonight, so I put the address in his phone and the ride was silent. The jazz club was dimly lit and packed with people. The air was thick with sensual expectations and the sound of a smooth saxophone. I tried to act cool and casual, but my heart was pounding so hard I was sure Brax could hear it over the music.

“This place is great.” Brax leaned in close, his breath warm on my ear. “Good call, sweetheart.”

I nodded and smiled. Every time someone looked our way, I tensed up, certain they’d recognize Brax and start asking questions I couldn’t answer.

“You okay?” Brax frowned, noticing my discomfort. “You seem a little jumpy.”

“Me? Jumpy? Nah, I’m just excited to be here with you. Maybe it’s excitement that’s making me come off a little anxious.”

He grinned, and I felt a flutter in my stomach that had nothing to do with nerves. “Well then, how about a dance?”

Before I could protest, Brax was leading me onto the crowded dance floor. Being in his arms was my second favorite position. Having him between my legs was the first. The band struck up a slower number, and suddenly his arms were around me, pulling me close.

As we swayed to the music, everything else faded away. The worry, the lies, the constant fear of being found out… it all disappeared. There was just Brax, his strong arms around me, his eyes locked on mine.

“You’re doing great,” he whispered, spinning me gently.

“Yeah, the eyes on us are starting to matter less the more time I spend out with you.”

“Good.” He kissed my temple as his hand lowered to the small of my back.

As the song reached its crescendo, Brax dipped me low. My breath caught in my throat as he slowly pulled me back up. Our faces were inches apart. For a moment, I thought he might kiss me, and I realized how much I wanted him to. It was no surprise music and dancing were so intimate for us, but tonight felt different.

But then the spell broke. A camera flash went off nearby, and reality came crashing back. What was I doing? This wasn’t my world. I wasn’t the girl Brax thought I was. That meant I wasn’t capable of being the girl I wanted to be. How would be a world renowned artist if I couldn’t handle the small amount of cameras and fans that had been approaching me because of Brax?

“I need some air.” I pulled away from him abruptly.

“Billie, wait…” Brax called after me, but I was already pushing through the crowd, desperate to escape before my carefully constructed facade came crumbling down around me. I’d already started getting friend requests from people I didn’t know. That girl from the bistro last night could have blown my cover if she said too much about my profile.

Brax caught up to me just outside of the club. His hand gently grasped my elbow. I turned to face him. My heart raced from more than just our dance.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

I nodded. Brax ran a hand through my braids as his eyes searched mine.

“I need to tell you something,” he said softly. “I… I haven’t felt this way in years. There’s something about you, Billie. You’re different from anyone I’ve ever met, but if being with me is overwhelming—”

“Brax, I…”

“No, let me finish,” he interrupted, taking my hands in his. “You make me feel alive again. Like there’s more to life than just music and fame.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “More to life than music? Who are you, and what have you done with Brax Adams?”

He grinned, squeezing my hands. “See? That’s exactly what I mean. You keep me grounded.”

As I looked up at him, my heart soared and sank simultaneously. Here was this amazing guy, pouring his heart out to me, and all I could think about was the web of lies I’d spun.

“Brax, I’m not…” I started, then faltered. How could I tell him the truth now? That I wasn’t some up-and-coming artist, just a small town girl who’d temporarily run away from her responsibilities?

“What is it?”

I forced a smile. “I’m just overwhelmed. In a good way. I never expected to meet someone like you.”

At least that part wasn’t a lie.

Brax pulled me close, and I buried my face in his chest, inhaling his scent.

As we stood there under the neon lights, I was torn between my growing feelings for Brax and the weight of my dishonesty.

The music pulsed behind us as Brax and I stood on the sidewalk, swaying against each other. For a moment, I let myself forget about everything else and just enjoyed being near him. But reality came crashing back when I heard an excited voice cut through the music.

“Brax Adams? Is that you?”

I froze. My heart raced as a well-dressed woman with a press badge approached us. Brax tensed slightly but kept his arm around me.

“Uh, yeah. Wassup?” His tone was polite but guarded.

Her eyes lit up.

“I can’t believe it! What brings you to this little jazz club?” Her gaze shifted to me as she motioned her cameraman over with a wave. “And who’s this lovely lady?”

I felt like a deer in headlights.

“I’m Billie,” I managed to squeak out.

“Billie’s an incredible artist. She’s doing a mural downtown.”

The journalist’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh really? Which part of downtown? I’d love to feature your work in my next column.”

My mind went blank. I couldn’t even remember the name of the fake building I’d mentioned to Brax. “It’s, um…”

“Actually,” Brax cut in, “Billie’s pretty private about her work. Maybe we could set up an interview another time?”

The journalist wasn’t letting up. “Come on, just a few questions. What’s the backstory behind the music? Billie, how did you and Brax meet? What’s it like dating one of the hottest male singers out right now?”

My palms were sweating, and I could feel panic rising in my chest. This was it. I was about to be exposed as a fraud in front of Brax and who knows how many others.

“I, um, I need to go.” Without waiting for a response, I wiggled out of Brax’s grasp and bolted down the sidewalk.

I didn’t get far before I heard Brax’s voice behind me. “Billie! Wait up!”

My legs were screaming at me to keep running, but my heart won out. I slowed to a stop. My breath came out in short gasps. Brax caught up. His brow was furrowed with concern.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, reaching for my hand.

I pulled away, wrapping my arms around myself. “I’m fine. I just don't like the attention.”

Brax tilted his head, unconvinced. “Billie, come on. Talk to me. Was it the journalist? I’m sorry about that. I should’ve told her to back off.”

I shook my head, fighting back tears. “It’s not that. It’s, oh my God, I’m such an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Brax said softly. He took a step closer, and I could smell his scent… a mix of his cologne and something uniquely him. “Whatever it is, we can figure it out together.”

I looked up at him, taking in his kind brown eyes and the little worry line between his brows. How did I fall for him so quickly? And how was I going to tell him the truth without losing him?

“Brax, really,” I started, but the words got stuck in my throat.

He waited patiently, his eyes never leaving mine. It was now or never.

“I lied to you. About the mural, about living here, about everything. I’m just… I’m just a graphic designer in a tiny town who likes to paint and bake sometimes.”