Lei'd in Paradise: A Cupcakes Series Novella Read online

  “What? Why?” Amy May asked.

  “Okay, maybe you didn’t know…” I let out a nervous giggle. “Anywho, he has a convention this weekend, then added on a week for vacation and wanted me to be there for that week.”

  “Why did you say no?” Bea asked softly.

  “Because … we’re still early in the relationship. I mean, sure, we’ve had sex,” I whispered that part. “And, we’ve slept over at each other’s places, but we haven’t spent a weekend together, or said I love you, or anything like that. What if being together alone for that long brought out flaws in our relationship, or my incessant talking got on his nerves or something? Plus, I have work. With Lila just getting back…”

  “Oh, no,” Lila said, holding up her hand to stop my ramble. “Don’t use me, or the job as an excuse. You just covered while I was on my honeymoon, you know I’d do the same for you.”

  I frowned, feeling a stab of guilt, because I did know that.

  “Carmen, it’s okay to be scared, and nervous about taking a big step like vacationing together, but you’ll never move forward and get to those next steps until you put yourself out there.”

  I accepted Amy May’s offered hand across the table.

  “I know you’re right, but … I’m scared.”

  Just then, my phone started ringing. I picked it up and saw it was Bran, so I accepted the call. “Hello?”

  I heard noise in the background, but he didn’t reply.

  “Bran?” I called again.

  “Is he not there?” Lila asked.

  I shook my head. “Maybe he butt dialed me.”

  “Put it on speaker,” Amy May said, waving her hand to get my attention.

  I put it on speaker and laid it on the table.

  “Hello? Bran?” I asked, and everyone shouted, “BRAN.”

  I started to laugh, then I heard a female voice say, “Well, well, if it isn’t Branson Braswell. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” then the call disconnected.

  My eyes widened and I looked from my silent phone to my friends, scanning the table as my stomach tightened into knots.

  “I’m sure it was just some other lawyer at the convention,” Bea said quietly.

  “Yeah, nothing to worry about,” Cynthia agreed.

  “You know what I think?” Amy May asked.

  Before I could answer, she and Lila said in unison, “You need to get your ass to Hawaii.”

  Four

  Dios mío!

  This is what I thought over and over again as I boarded the plane to Hawaii.

  I hadn’t even called Bran to tell him I was coming. The last interaction we’d had was when he’d messaged me to say he missed me and tell me good night, and I’d said the same.

  I hadn’t mentioned the ticket I’d bought seconds before or demanded to know more about the woman whose voice I’d heard on the phone.

  Lila and Amy May had told me a surprise would be best. That way, I’d either catch him in the act of doing something with another woman, or I’d surprise him in a good way, by showing up for the vacation he’d invited me on.

  Bea said I should call him, tell him what I’d heard, and ask for an explanation before getting on a plane half-cocked. She said communication in a relationship was key, and although surprising him was nice, the underlying reason I was doing it … not so much.

  Bea was always the most level-headed of the group, while Amy May and Lila were the troublemakers. I knew in my head, I should listen to Bea, but my gut told me to show up in Hawaii with no notice.

  So, that’s what I was doing.

  I’d been all gung-ho about it, too. Until I’d reached the airport and what I was doing really sunk in.

  I’d only brought a carry-on bag, which I tried shoving into the overhead bin. It was a little out of my reach, so I was bouncing on my heels, trying to push it over the edge.

  I picked the wrong day to wear flip-flops.

  “Here, let me help you with that,” I heard a man say, then felt the bag leave my hands.

  “Thank you,” I said gratefully, as I scooted into my seat by the window to get out of the way.

  I sat in my seat, grabbed my tablet out of my crossover bag, and shoved the bag under the seat. After we were up in the air, I shifted in my seat and looked away from the tablet.

  I had a book pulled up, but couldn’t focus.

  Turning toward the man next to me, I took in his business attire and short hair. He reminded me a bit of Bran, not in looks, but in demeanor.

  “Do you think when a man invites you on vacation, he’s interested in taking your relationship further, or it’s more about having a fun fling in another place?” I asked.

  He gave me the side-eye, and, ignoring his baffled expression, I went on, “See, I was worried going on vacation so early in our relationship would put too much pressure on us, and maybe bring to light some things we don’t know about each other yet. Like, going to the bathroom … How can you go to the bathroom with the sexy man you’re sleeping with right on the other side of the door? Won’t he think that’s gross? I don’t think I’ll be able to do it. Or, what if he takes long showers and doesn’t leave me any hot water? Will I resent his selfishness and wonder how selfish he’ll be in other areas?”

  I let out a long sigh.

  “So, that’s why I said no … to the vacation. But then he butt-dialed me and I heard this woman’s voice … My friends think it’s just another lawyer at his convention and I have nothing to worry about, still I can’t help but wonder if since I said no to a week away with him, he found somebody else.”

  I turned fully in my seat and looked at the stranger.

  “What do you think?”

  The man blinked at me, then, without taking his eyes off of me, put wireless earbuds in his ears and turned away.

  Wow, rude, I thought and shifted back in my seat.

  I was about to try reading again when I heard an older woman say, “You know, dear, if he asked you to come with you on vacation, that means he wants you there.”

  I leaned forward to peer at the woman who was sitting on the other side of the man, who was now leaned back with his eyes closed.

  “I know, I just can’t help worrying that it’s too much, too soon.”

  She nodded kindly.

  “Well, only you and your gentleman can decide the pace of your relationship, but, as for your other concerns, I can assure you, you’ll figure it out. Living with someone, even for a short period, is like a dance. You’ll take turns leading and following, learn each other’s idiosyncrasies, and learn how to move together without stepping on each other’s feet. Things like going to the bathroom, or being mindful of the needs of the other person, will come with time. You’ll get more comfortable with each other and you’ll both change and adapt to your new situation.”

  “Thank you. Sometimes I get so inside my head that I can’t work out a logical solution, but you said it beautifully.”

  “You’re welcome, dear, and I’m sure your fella is going to be surprised and excited that you changed your mind and decided to join him in paradise.”

  “Thank you,” I said again, then settled back into my seat, feeling more relaxed than I had in days.

  She was right; we’d figure it out, and maybe this trip would be just what Bran and I needed to know if we were ready to move on to the next stage of our relationship. I was sure Bran wasn’t the kind of guy to cheat. Even though we’d never put a label on our relationship other than to say we were dating, I was certain exclusivity was implied.

  One way or another, I was about to put my heart on the line, and I prayed Branson was the man I thought he was and would handle it with care.

  Five

  By the time I got to the hotel, I was in full-blown panic mode. I shot off a text in the group to let the girls know I’d arrived safely, then opened an app on my phone and found a car.

  What the heck was I thinking flying all the way to Hawaii without calling Bran?

  What if he ch
anged his mind and left the island as soon as his convention was over?

  What if he was happy I’d said no to coming, because he needed some alone time?

  What if I show up and he looks at me like I’m cracked? Which I was beginning to think I was.

  I was in such a tizzy that my driver was watching me carefully in the rearview mirror while I was doing deep breathing exercises, probably trying to decide whether he needed to call the police, or a psychiatrist.

  “Here we are, miss,” he said slowly as we pulled up.

  “Oh, God,” I moaned, bending over to put my head between my legs and banging it on his seat in front of me instead.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled.

  “Are you okay?” he asked for the fourth time since picking me up.

  “I’ll be fine, thanks,” I said, getting out of the car and grabbing my bag off the seat.

  As he drove away I added a nice tip to the app, then looked up at the hotel and whispered, “Oh, boy.”

  I walked through the lobby, trying to find my inner Lila and project bad-assness. Unfortunately, when I went to the front desk and asked for Bran’s room, the clerk said, “We are unable to give out that information. Sorry.”

  I bit my lip and replied, “I understand that, but see, he invited me to come here on vacation with him and I wanted to surprise him. I’m not a murderer or anything, I’m his girlfriend.”

  She looked at me with aggravated patience, probably thinking that is exactly what a murderous ex-girlfriend would say, and shook her head.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. I can call his room and let him know you are down here waiting,” she suggested.

  “I kind of want it to be surprise,” I said, not sure why I was fighting her on this. It was late and I was tired, and emotionally exhausted.

  Turning my head, I saw a bar on the other side of the lobby.

  “You know what?” I told her. “I think I’ll go grab a drink and come back. Get some liquid courage, ya know?”

  The clerk nodded politely, but I could tell she wanted to roll her eyes at me, then turned to greet the next guest.

  With my carry-on bag in tow, I headed toward the bar, then gasped when I saw Bran sitting at the bar.

  I stood there for a moment, frozen on the spot as I decided what I wanted to do next. He sat alone, a glass with amber liquid in front of him, his eyes on whatever sports game was playing on the TV over the bar.

  Suddenly, I remembered Amy May, and how she and her husband liked to keep their marriage spicy by role playing and meeting up in bars as strangers.

  Maybe if I pretended to be someone else, I could get over this paralyzing fear of rejection and disappointment, and do something sexy to kick off this vacation.

  Make it a fling, if you will.

  Decision made, I put a swing in my hips, more for self-confidence than anything, and plastered what I hoped was an alluring look on my face. When I was near Bran, I put my carry-on on one seat, then slid into the seat next to his.

  “Excuse me, sir, I’m in a bit of a bind and was hoping you could help me out,” I began with a slight accent, was that supposed to be French?

  I ran a fingernail up his forearm, and brought my eyes up to his shocked face.

  “You see, I thought I booked a room, but apparently it never went through, and now the hotel is booked. I know it’s terribly inconvenient, but do you happen to have extra space in yours? I promise to make it worth your while.”

  Seriously, why was I trying to do a French accent and not Spanish? I sounded like a bad actress.

  Branson looked to be in shock and still hadn’t said a word, so I powered on.

  “My name is Chloe, what’s yours?” I asked, my eyes pleading with him to play along.

  “Uh…” he managed, then cleared his throat and said, “Bernard.”

  That almost made me lose character.

  But, I bit back my laugh and replied, “It’s lovely to meet you, Bernard. Do you think you can help me out?”

  “Well, Chloe,” Bran said, taking a swig of his drink. “I am staying in the hotel, but I’m afraid I only have one king bed.”

  I grinned, then worked on muting it to make my expression coyer.

  “Oh, that’s fine, I don’t take up that much space.”

  Bran’s gaze flew to my lips when my tongue darted out to wet them in what I hoped was a seductive move.

  “Then, absolutely, I can help you out. Is that all you have?” he asked, gesturing to my bag.

  “Yup, I mostly just have bikinis, so I didn’t need much space. I plan to spend the week relaxing on the beach.”

  “Sounds perfect,” Bran said, throwing some money on the bar as he stood and moved to get my bag. “Shall I show you to our room, Chloe?”

  I put my hand on Bran’s offered arm and replied, “Yes, thank you.”

  As we walked through the lobby to the elevator, I felt the clerk’s eyes on me and turned my head toward her. Resisting the urge to stick my tongue out, I instead gave her a big smile, then tucked in closer to Bran, excited to see what would happen next.

  Six

  As soon as we walked into the room, Bran threw my bag onto the floor and pushed me up against the wall.

  I did a mental inventory to ensure there was nothing breakable in my bag, then my mind shut off and my body took over.

  Holy Hell, Bran had never been so aggressive with me before. Whether it was the fake fling, or my surprising him, I was extremely excited about what was happening. My hands were on his shoulders as I braced myself between him and the wall, and his hands were … everywhere.

  In my hair, on my ass, under my shirt.

  It was like a fire had been lit and Bran was about to go off.

  I let my head fall back as his lips trailed down my neck. God, it felt good. He felt good. I let my hands roam of their own volition, enjoying the feel of his muscles bunched beneath my palms.

  “Merde,” I groaned, because it was the only French word that came to mind, as I put my hands under his shirt and pushed it up, urging him silently to take it off.

  Maybe shit wasn’t the sexiest thing to say when you’re getting down to business, but I really hoped he knew the translation and didn’t think I was moaning about murder.

  Bran complied, ignoring my attempt at staying in character, getting rid of not just his shirt, but his pants as well. Not wanting to be left behind, I quickly discarded my clothes as well, including my bra, then went back into his arms.

  “You smell so good,” he murmured against my hair. “What is that?”

  “Chanel number five,” I breathed, thinking it sounded French, when actually it was some sort of vanilla body spray from Lush.

  Have to keep the game going, right?

  Bran grasped my wrists in his hand and pushed them over my head, keeping them in place as he lowered his head to my breasts and began to tease my nipple with his tongue.

  I moaned and arched my back, loving the stretch I felt with my hands above my head.

  This power play had me bucking toward him with the need to feel his body against mine. Once I felt him, I hiked up one leg and wrapped it around his waist, groaning happily when I felt the hard length of him against my throbbing center.

  “Ah, fuck.”

  I pushed my chest toward him, wanting his mouth back, and was rewarded when he sucked my other nipple between his lips and bit down gently.

  I thrust against him again, eager to feel his skin against mine.

  “Take ‘em off,” I ordered as I rubbed against him.

  Bran let my nipple go and bent slightly at the waist as he eased first his boxer briefs off, then put his free hand in the waistband of my panties and pushed them over my hips.

  I moved my legs so they would slide the rest of the way off, then kicked them to the side.

  I watched as he began to kiss down the slope of by breast and down my stomach. When he could go no farther and still hold my hands, he let them go and dropped to his knees.

  They immediat
ely went to his head to hold him close as he kissed the inside of my thighs before licking my seam and sucking my clit into his mouth.

  “Ye s… don’t stop,” I cried as I struggled to keep my legs from giving out.

  Bran’s tongue was a magical device that I was lucky enough to know very well, and he knew exactly how to use it to ensure I came swift and hard.

  I was crying out his name, my body still shuddering from my orgasm when he stood up, lifted me up, and slid inside. I tried to focus and hold on, but I have to admit I was only half aware of being pounded against the wall. That orgasm had taken me to a whole other level.

  Tilting up to give him better access, I held on to his shoulders and leaned back against the wall so I could keep my eyes on his face.

  Bran was a handsome man on his worst day, but when he was inside of me … when he hit his release and came inside of me, his face transformed into a thing of beauty.

  It was a look I never wanted to miss.

  When we were both satiated, and struggling to control our breathing, Bran asked, “Shower?”

  I nodded and took his hand, letting him lead me to the bathroom.

  Since this wasn’t an actual fling and Bran and I were already sexual partners, there was no awkward talk about protection or being safe. We’d both been tested and cleared, and I had an IUD, so we knew we were in the clear.

  He also knew I liked my showers warm, not hot, and always listened to my Spotify playlist. In fact, he’d made his own playlist and now we took turns.

  I watched him go through the motions of getting the water ready and getting the music going with a smile on my lips and a flutter in my tummy.

  What had I been so worried about?

  Bran was the best. The sweetest, smartest, most thoughtful, and hands down hottest man I had ever been with.

  And as I watched him, my heart swelling more with each move he made to make sure I was taken care of and felt special, I knew why I’d been so worried … Because I was head over heels, ass over elbow, and heart over mind, in love with Branson Braswell.