The Man with the Knot (Forbidden Fun #55)

Chapter 5

5

Morgan

I can’t help but gasp as I stand in the living room of Braxton’s apartment. I try to take it all in without looking too overwhelmed but I’m failing.

The place is the complete opposite of a beachside cave, and I’m almost too dumbstruck to remember my manners. What was I thinking, asking if it has running water?

After all, the massive apartment is a luxury abode. It’s decorated in an eclectic combination of beach style and country comfort. The furniture is tasteful but opulent: a brown leather couch in the center of the living area appears to be hand-stitched and custom-made. A raw-edge wooden coffee table runs the length of the couch and rests on dark metal legs. Floor-to-ceiling shelves house an impressive collection of books and intricate knickknacks, ranging from multi-colored shells to carefully arranged feathers to a fancy telescope.

I run my fingers along the edge of one of the shelves, my eyes resting first on what appears to be a first edition Moby Dick and shifting to a delicate pile of birds’ eggs.

“Who are you?” I ask with an uneasy laugh.

But Brax’s warm smile sets my nerves at ease. “I’m just me,” he says simply enough, crossing the room to join me as he pulls on a well-worn t-shirt. “I see you’ve found my collection of wayfaring treasures.”

I smile up at him although my mind is in a complete swirl over everything that’s happened over the last few hours.

“The birds’ eggs…” I murmur, pointing at the delicate nest.

Brax grins once more. “I found the nest on the beach, untended. It happens from time to time. Even bird parents can forget the location of their chicks sometimes. So I brought the eggs back and incubated them. A couple actually hatched, and I handed the baby birds over to a rehab facility to be reintegrated into the wild. But the intact eggs, I kept. They won’t ever hatch, so it’s okay.”

He shrugs, as if such a story were the most normal tale in the world.

I shake my head, growing more baffled by the moment. “I know we just met, but I feel like I may have judged you a bit too quickly.”

Brax shrugs those broad shoulders and shoots me a grin. “Don’t worry about it. There’s not much to know about me anyways,” he drawls but I hear something in his tone that draws out my curiosity.

“Can I look around some more?” I ask, eager to learn more about this sexy, complicated man.

“I don’t mind,” Brax agrees easily. “But then you’d better get cleaned up.”

I nod and plod toward the kitchen. Here, the appliances are ultra-modern but understated. Each piece—the stove, fridge, coffee maker— have the kind of quiet luxury that doesn’t need a name stamped on it just to prove their worth. Overhead, skylights reveal a pink-orange sky fading into blue.

Brax follows me around, his fingers hooked casually into the loops on his shorts. He watches me but stays quiet, letting me explore as if he were a scientist trying to understand my every move.

I glance quickly at a few other rooms: a dining room that boasts the same kind of raw edge table as the living room; a large balcony covered against the elements and filled with soft chairs and dozens of plants. Another room stacked high with more books, a desk, and what appears to be lab equipment.

“Are you a scientist?” I ask, intrigued by Brax’s odd assortment of tools and books.

He gives me another infuriating shrugs. “I like to learn about all kinds of things, including the ocean,” he says in a cryptic tone.

The next door leads to Brax’s bedroom, which is lit with soft lamps and smells faintly of salt and campfire. I glance toward the open double doors that lead to an attached balcony, stunned by the sea view below.

“That’s not a bad view to wake up to,” I murmur.

Brax takes my hand in his. “I can think of better ones,” he says with a wink.

“Cheeseball!” I giggle, delighted by his silly comment.

He merely grins. “I had to say it because you set me up perfectly.” Brax’s blue eyes shine, full of mischief, and I’m stunned by how handsome this man is, and how at ease I feel too. I want to jump into his arms but manage to restrain myself somehow.

“You’ll find the bathroom through this door,” Brax says, his tone turning business-like without warning. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. You look adorable with sand on your chin, but I know it can’t be comfortable.”

I giggle.

“I have sand in my swimsuit! Imagine how uncomfortable that is!”

He shoots me a smoldering look.

“I can imagine,” he growls. “In fact, I’d love to check it out.”

With another laugh, I follow Brax into the bathroom.

Like the rest of his apartment, the en suite is modern but filled with reminders of the sea, including dried starfish decorations and another collection of shells. The tub is a deep, white porcelain and the counters are smooth, glossy wood. The steam shower is large enough to hold several people, its glass walls promising a peep show for anyone else in the room.

“You can have a shower or a bath, your choice,” Brax growls, interrupting my thoughts. “Or both.”

I gesture to the shower. “That’ll do,” I say with equal equanimity. “And then I’ll get out of your hair—I can just take a taxi back to the resort.”

But to my surprise, Brax shakes his head. “You’ll do no such thing,” he states. I stare at him.

“I’m not staying the night with you,” I retort. “Why, do you think I’m a slut of some kind?” Of course, that wouldn’t exactly be wrong , seeing that I just hooked up with him without knowing his name. He glares right back at me.

“I’m not asking you to stay, and I’m not trying to upset you,” he says after taking a deep breath. He folds his arms over his chest, emphasizing the sheer power of his biceps. “But we have to be somewhere within the next hour. You don’t have to shower but I figured you might want to, just as a courtesy.”

I raise an eyebrow. “And where exactly do we have to go? I’m just hearing the first of this.”

Brax nods. “I know. There’s a council meeting tonight, so I’m taking you to meet my community’s leaders. We need to discuss what happened on the beach today.”

My face flushes crimson. “I am not about to go discuss my sex life with a bunch of strangers!” I nearly shout. I reach for the door handle but Brax steps between me and the exit.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” he says in even tone. Still, something slightly dangerous lurks below just below that equanimity, as if he’s having trouble controlling himself.

“Well, what then?” I demand, breathing heavily. I’m completely enthralled with this strange man and wish he’d stop running hot and cold. Does he want me here? Or did I royally screw up by visiting his home?

I want to scream. Instead, I return his glower.

“You crossed into community land,” Brax explains. “And I let you stay on the land, which means that we need to go to the council tonight and make sure that the others are aware that a non-resident is on the island.”

I form my lips into a pout, certain that I look like a child, but I don’t care.

“I still don’t see how any of this is anyone else’s business,” I huff. “I’ll just go back to the hotel. It’s not like I stole seashells from the beach. You can check my bag if you’d like,” I say haughtily.

Brax shakes his head and when his eyes lock on mine, I see something animalistic in their depths.

“This is how my world works. Don’t question my motives, Morgan,” he adds quietly but firmly.

“Fine,” I agree. “I’ll go with you. But I don’t have anything to wear.”

Brax stalks to the shower and cranks on the hot water. Within seconds, the entire bathroom is steaming and humid.

“Take off your swimsuit,” he instructs me, his tone gruff. “We’re not having this discussion anymore. We’ll find you something to wear.”

I have half a mind to defy him, but the dark look in his eyes makes me snap my mouth shut. Instead, I sidle out of my still-damp suit, incredibly aware of how the tables have turned on a dime. Then, my suit hits the floor with a wet plop, and suddenly, I’m utterly nude before Brax, my big breasts out and the vee between my thighs already moist with desire. His eyes roam over my body with frank appreciation and I find myself taking a step toward him.

Evidently, Brax is of the same mind too because he closes the distance between us quickly, pulling me by the hair and pressing his mouth onto mine. The kiss is deep, heart-stopping. My body aches with need, need that only he can fulfill.

My nipples rub against Brax’s chest and my hand searches for the button on his shorts.

“No,” he says gruffly. He steps back, each of us panting with longing. I shiver.

“You don’t want me?” I mewl in a tiny voice, feeling pathetic for even asking.

Brax growls. “I want every single inch of you, Morgan, but not yet. Get in the shower, before I lose control.”

His words send fireworks through my body but one look at his face tells me that Brax is on edge, and I had better listen.

I climb into the steamy shower. As I wash my body, I watch Brax through the glass walls as he rinses my swimsuit out at the bathroom sink. He doesn’t look up at me once, instead focusing on the task at hand.

I enjoy watching him—the barely concealed strength of his hands, how intensely he concentrates, how he occasionally has to brush a strand of his pitch-black hair from his eyes. It’s strange too. I’ve known guys to cook breakfast for me the next morning as if they’re bestowing a gift. But washing my dirty clothes? Now that’s new. And strangely charming too.

He wrings the water out of the swimsuit and lays it flat on the counter, presumably to let it airdry. Without a word, he strips off his shorts and t-shirt, and strides naked toward the shower, entering next to me and taking the washcloth from my hands.

“Let me wash you,” he says gruffly.

I can only nod, words catching in my throat.

His hands slide along my body in a gentle caress, as if we’ve been lovers for years rather than hours. Everywhere he touches, I feel a small surge of electricity, my body craving his without hesitation.

Brax keeps his attentions innocent, however, even when he swipes the cloth against my womanhood. I swear I feel his fingers linger there but the moment passes too soon, and I’m left wanting. It doesn’t stop me from pressing myself against his warm body, eager to feel his hardness against my softer curves.

Only once do I break his concentration. I rub my bare ass against his clearly erect cock, angling myself so that the bulge at his base is nestled between my cheeks. Brax growls and nips playfully at my ear before pushing me away once more.

“Will I ever get to feel it?” I whisper. “Your knot, I mean.”

He growls against my throat, that hard rod pressing against the small of my backside.

“You will,” he whispers back in my ear. “I promise, Morgan. You’ll take every inch of me, and love every second of it.” Then he kisses my neck before slapping my bare butt, making the cheeks jounce. “Come on, woman, it’s time. Out you go.”

I sigh happily because who knows what will happen next? I just want this council meeting to be over … so that I can sit on my lover’s hard knot the way I want.