Bad Bridesmaid (Billionaire's Club Book 11) Elise Faber (most read books of all time txt) 📖

streamed down her skin, warm rivulets that slid down her back, her legs, dripped forward and over her breasts.

“But you knew you couldn’t actually give everything up,” she whispered.

His face sobered. “No, I couldn’t.” A moment of quiet as she felt like she’d been stabbed in the gut.

Pretty words.

Nice compliments.

But he still hadn’t wanted to stay.

God, here she was wanting him so much that she was almost willing to sacrifice her beliefs, to ignore everything she’d promised to jump into bed with him again. “I need you to go,” she whispered.

“Heidi.”

“You need to go,” she repeated. “You need to go.”

“I—”

“You need to go!”

He retreated a step then his face clouded. “No,” he said. “Not until you understand. Yes, I fucking panicked. Yes, I ran off that night because you made me feel things I have never felt with anyone. Yes, I left because it was too fucking much!” She flinched. “But I’ve thought about you every fucking day since then. I dreamed about you. I imagined what it would be like to have you with me.”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her pulse danced a speedy tattoo in her veins. She couldn’t summon any words, but it didn’t matter.

Because he kept talking.

“Yes, I ran, but I’ve regretted it every day since.” He closed the distance between them. “All I’ve wanted to do, all I want to do is make it up to you.”

Her air stuttered out. “Brad.”

His hand came up to her uninjured cheek again. “So, maybe I’m fucking this up. Maybe it’s all too fast, too much. But I need you to know that I’m not leaving. I’m not running again. I’ve seen how wonderful you are, and I’m going to prove to you that I’m not some jackass.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Because you are special and wonderful, and I’m sorry I ever made you doubt that.”

What could she possibly say to that?

How could she possibly respond to something so wonderful?

How could she possibly not panic about something so terrifying?

Because his words were . . .

Everything. Too much. Frightening. Terrifying. Everything.

“I know it’s a lot to spring on you, a lot for you to believe when I just left you without a word. But . . .” His warm breath skated over her skin. His voice was soft, gentle. “Let me take care of you.”

“I—”

“Please, just for tonight. Let me stay. Let me help you. Let me prove to you that I mean everything I said.”

Heidi should have told him to go, for self-preservation, to keep her self-respect, to make certain she could keep her heart safe. But . . . she couldn’t make herself form the words to tell him to leave.

Instead, she just gave in to the need in her heart, her soul.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Eleven

Brad

One word that made everything inside him settle.

His heart had been thudding in his chest, filling him with terror, thinking again about all the ways he wasn’t smooth and charming. God, how was it possible to have bungled this more, to have not explained properly, making her think he’d say all those things but then just toss her aside . . .

Add in scaring her into falling down a fucking hill and making her injure herself and—

She shivered.

Fucking hell.

Still fucking up.

He grabbed a towel from the rack just outside the curtain, turned off the stream of water, and wrapped it around her. Snagging one for himself so he didn’t drip on her floor, he wrapped it around his hips then carefully lifted her out of the shower.

“Why didn’t you take off my underwear?” she whispered into his chest.

“I didn’t want you to think I was trying to get you naked.”

She snorted. “You mean, you’re not trying to get me naked?”

Something inside him relaxed, and he shifted so he could meet her eyes. “I’m always trying to get you naked.”

A quirk of that luscious mouth as he set her on the counter.

“I’ll grab you some pajamas.”

“I’m guessing they’re somewhere in the middle of my floor, considering I was doing just that went you went all caveman on me.”

He lifted a brow but couldn’t deny she was right. Instead, he just went into the bedroom, spied the pajamas, along with some underwear that reminded him of the ass-hugging pair she was wearing, made even huggier—was that a word? Probably not—by the water. Regardless, they were plastered to her honey gold skin in a way that had made his cock stand at rigid attention.

Not unusual, since this woman seemed to do that to him just by breathing.

Add in tight fabric and see-through lace, and he was a goner.

She’d slipped off her bra by the time he returned, had spread it on the towel next to her.

“Here,” he said, handing her the pajamas and looking away.

Not leaving though, and also not stopping himself from glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, from seeing the pink tip of her nipple, the swaying globe of her breast.

Pervert?

Yup.

But he had to make sure she didn’t fall.

That was the only reason he stayed. Simply for safety purposes.

When she went to slip off the counter, after she’d tugged the pajama top over her head, he stepped forward, lifted her down.

Her lips parted, a hot, damp exhale coating his skin.

But she didn’t push him away, not even when he reached for the waistband of her underwear and worked the wet material down her thighs, bending further to bring it past her knees, lifting one foot then the other to slip it off.

She released another shaking exhale, but it wasn’t like his breathing wasn’t steady either.

Still, he backed up a pace, handing her the dry underwear and pajama bottoms, and turning away.

Movement behind him, the soft sound of fabric sliding over naked skin. Then a warm palm on his back. “I have some clothes that should fit you in my closet.”

“I’m fine,” he told her.

“How are those wet boxer briefs feeling about now?”

Not great.

They weren’t feeling great, but she had bigger things to worry about other