Stirring Up Trouble (Inspiring the Greek Billionaire) (10 page)

Braden wanted to smash his fist into the guy’s face. As far as he knew, Jon hadn’t ever come to hear Lola sing in the past. She’d blown him off these last couple of weeks to spend time with Braden. It must be killing Jon to know she preferred his competitor.

“Are you going back on stage to finish your set?” Jon asked.

“Nope, I’m all done for the night.” She slid a nervous glance over her shoulder. “Braden was kind enough to let us go home early but pay us for both sets.”

Braden opened his mouth to argue with her, but when she wrapped her arms around Jon’s neck and looked up at him with a smile, all the words clogged in his throat.

She continued, “Let’s go out the back way. My family is out there and I don’t want to speak with them right now.” Turning toward Braden, she had the decency to look guilty. “Goodnight, Braden. See you tomorrow.” She and Jon held hands as they walked out the back door.

Tomorrow. She wasn’t coming home tonight.

He’d lost her for good.

CHAPTER 12

Yet come again, for though perhaps mayst move

that hear, which now abhors, to like his love.

William Shakespeare,
Twelfth Night,
act 3, scene 1

Braden followed Lola and Jon out of his office and watched the back door of the restaurant slam shut behind them. He punched the wall, startling the chefs who stared at each other probably wondering what had gotten into their boss. The men took in Christopher’s stern face and continued plating dinners as if their boss hadn’t just cracked the wall with his fist. Braden nodded to his head chef in thanks.

Although his staff needed him in the dining room, he required a moment to cool down before facing his customers. He shook off the pain in his knuckles and stalked through the kitchen to his office, where he slammed his door then kicked it for good measure. Why’d he have to keep his office so neat and orderly? There wasn’t a damn thing to sweep off his desk and crash to the floor.

He fell into his chair and stared at the phone, willing it to ring, hoping Lola would call and tell him she changed her mind and would meet him at home, ready to take their relationship to the next level. Relationship. He shook his head and chuckled. Who’d ever have thought that word would cross his mind?

His plan to make her fall in love with him had not only backfired, it had exploded in his face like a live grenade. Hearing the sweet way she spoke to Jon just about ripped him to shreds. Without meaning to, he’d pushed her straight into his competitor’s bed. She’d maintained they were just friends, but how else would she categorize Jon? She didn’t believe in relationships or love. After everything that had occurred between them, she’d probably still call Braden her “friend.” And they’d moved well past the friend stage—despite the fact they hadn’t slept together yet.

But seeing her tonight . . . his heart sank. At the end of the month, she’d leave for California and sell the property to Jon. Braden would lose everything he’d worked for.

No matter what happened with Lola, he couldn’t forget that
Acropolis
was what mattered most.

He got to his feet and stormed out of his office. Everything was quiet in the kitchen and he didn’t hear any shouting coming from the dining room. With renewed purpose, he barreled through the swinging doors. As he predicted, consuming the chocolate fondue had calmed the patrons. Instead of fighting, they were feeding each other pieces of cake and fruit dipped in the creamy topping.

He walked behind the bar, grabbed a full bottle of tequila and a shot glass, and headed for the other side, ignoring the inquisitive look of the bartender. He dropped on a stool, poured himself a drink then knocked it back, enjoying the burn in his throat and the warmth spreading in his chest. No salt or lime for him tonight. This tequila wasn’t for enjoyment. He intended to eradicate every single solitary thought, feeling, and memory of Lola Dubrovsky. He deserved one night of sleep without dreaming of her, and tequila was just the thing to help him accomplish that. He drank another shot before remembering he owned this place and this bottle of tequila. Might as well drink straight from the bottle.

He overheard his customers apologizing to his staff for their unusual behavior and the waiters discussing the generous tips they’d received. At least they were happy.

His employees gave him wide berth except for Jenny, who periodically came to him with questions. The young blond waitress had worked for him since he opened
Acropolis
, and although she wasn’t a manager, he left her in charge in his absence. She could’ve answered any one of those questions on her own. She was obviously checking up on her drunk boss. If he remembered in the morning, he’d give her a raise.

By the time the restaurant emptied, Braden was drifting on a cloud of pink cotton candy.

“Mind if I join you?” Ryan asked, settling onto the stool next to him.

“Sure,” he said, sounding strange to his own ear, his voice rough and thick. “There’s always plenty of room on my cloud for friends.”

Ryan’s four eyebrows furrowed. “I sent Portia home with Reina when I saw you drinking tequila from the bottle.” He pointed to the now half-empty bottle in front of them. “I thought I’d return the favor from when you helped me a few months back, and give you a ride home. Plus I thought you might need to talk.”

That’s what he got for having a best friend who knew all his secrets. He couldn’t even drink in peace. Maybe if he played dumb, Ryan would leave him alone. “Why would I need to talk?”

Ryan walked away then went behind the bar. “Tequila? From the bottle? The last time you drank tequila was when you couldn’t get the liquor license for
Acropolis
and you thought you’d lost your dream. The next day you made me promise never to let you drink it again. Now here you are chugging it like it’s lemonade on a hot summer day. Something happen with Lola?”

He went for the bottle, but Ryan snagged it back and pushed it out of his reach. Fine, he’d reassure his friend he didn’t need his help. “She smells like lavender, did you know that?”

That was not what he’d planned to say.

Ryan laughed and placed a glass of water in front of him. “No, I hadn’t noticed.”

Now that he’d started talking about her, he couldn’t stop. Ryan needed to know how amazingly special Lola was. “And she’s brilliant. I don’t mean she’s smart, although she is. She’s a
genius
, only she doesn’t want anyone to know about it. I mean, when she walks into a room, she lights it up with her brilliance. And she tastes—”

Ryan held up his hand and frowned. “You can stop right there. I do not need to know how my future sister-in-law tastes, thank you very much.” Both his mouths smiled. “So, you like her. What’s the problem?”

Braden sighed. “She doesn’t like
me
.” Drumming his fingers on the bar, he examined his friend. “How did you get Portia to fall in love with you?”

Ryan snorted. “First of all, I didn’t
make
her fall in love with me. She did that all on her own. You can’t control someone else’s feelings.” He tilted his head in thought. “Okay, maybe Lola can through pheromone manipulation, whatever the heck that is, but those of us who aren’t Muses are out of luck.” Ryan hopped over the top of the bar and resumed his seat.

Braden’s head pounded in agony. “Do you really believe the Dubrovsky women are Muses?”

Ryan nodded. “Yeah, I really do. There’s just something different about them, you know? And Portia brought out the artist in me, inspired that piece of me I didn’t know existed until she unlocked the door and set it free. Not to mention those dreams—”

“Dreams?”

His friend glanced down and exhaled. “Yeah. I probably shouldn’t be telling you this because you’ll think I’m crazy, but Portia and I shared dreams about our past lives together.”

The room spun, and Braden gripped the bar so he wouldn’t fall off his stool. “You weren’t by chance in ancient Greece swimming in the Mediterranean were you?”

Ryan shot him a look. “Ah, no. It was in Greece though, in our family’s village about a hundred years ago. Portia and I were married there in another life.”

They got married? Braden spent each night swimming for his very survival, getting beaten up by several large men, and Ryan got
married
? “That’s it? No one threatening to kill you or enticing you to your watery grave at the bottom of the sea?”

Ryan shook his head. “No. Although Alexander was there, too. He was the violinist at our wedding. Why are you asking all these questions? Are you two sharing dreams?”

He nodded, making the room tilt. “Yep.”

His friend grinned. “You know what that means don’t you?”

He took a sip of water. “We’re both delusional?”

Ryan placed a friendly hand on his shoulder. “She’s your Muse.”

His
Mousa
. Isn’t that what he’d called her in the dream and again in the kitchen? “I know.”

“You’re not going to deny it?” Ryan asked, surprised.

“Nope, she does enough of that for the both of us.” He paused and took a breath. “She’s Euterpe.”

“Who?”

“The Muse of Lyrics. At least, that’s who she is in our dreams.”

Ryan looked thoughtful. “Huh, I don’t remember our names from our dreams. It was just us. But if it weren’t for Portia, I wouldn’t be whittling wood.”

Braden burst out into laughter. “Sorry. It’s just that ‘whittling’ sounds like something more . . . personal.”

“At least I got you to laugh.” Ryan turned serious. “You know Lola’s going to take off soon.”

Braden chugged the rest of his water, but his mouth was still dry. “That’s what she says.”

“What do you want from her?”

What
did
he want? He couldn’t offer her forever even if she wanted it. “I don’t know. I like her. I don’t want to waste the time we do have, but neither one of us does long-term relationships. You said it before, if things go sour between us—
when
things go sour—it will complicate things.”

“That was before I knew she was your Muse. Look at Portia and me. We took the risk knowing we could get hurt and now we’re getting married. Sometimes, you have to jump off the cliff without a parachute and leave it to faith you’ll land safely. Trust me, it can be a bumpy ride, but it’s also thrilling as hell.” He slapped him on his back. “Come on, why don’t you let Jenny close tonight and I’ll take you home?”

Braden nodded and slid off the stool, his knees buckling under him. As he grabbed aimlessly for something to hold onto, his head smacked against the edge of the bar. As he lay flat on his back staring at the ceiling—was that a water stain?—he heard Ryan shouting his name and spouting some nonsense about staying awake before everything faded to black.

Euterpe lay naked in his arms, her silky hair spread over his chest like the softest of feathers. They breathed in sync, their wildly beating hearts drumming against their chests in an ancient rhythm only they could hear. The blue and violet flowers from her crown scattered around them, their scent a calming balm on his weary soul. Demetrius stroked her backside, her smooth, unmarred skin a balm on his work-callused fingers. Slowly, his beautiful
mousa
tilted her head and their gazes locked, freezing the moment in time for eternity.

“I must go,” she said softly. “He will return soon and he must not find me gone.” She began to make movements which would take her away from him once again.

He didn’t want her to leave. He never did.

Before she rose, he captured her wrist. “Marry me, Euterpe. I know I cannot offer you anything more than my heart, but you must know, if I owned the world I would give it to you.”

Clouds darkened in the sky and his sheep bleated in the distance, but all he could see and hear was his
mousa
. Let the heavens open up and cry on them. In her embrace, he would never grow cold.

“Wake up, man,” Ryan commanded, his voice sounding far away.

Braden forced his eyes open. Blinding light sent a sharp, lancing pain through the top of his head and his throbbing temples. “Where’s Euterpe . . . I mean, Lola?”

“Here you go, Ryan,” Jenny said, her face coming into view behind his friend.

Ryan placed a plastic bag filled with ice on Braden’s head. The cold immediately brought him some relief.

“Lola left. Don’t you remember? Do you need to go to the hospital?” Ryan asked, his eyes squinting with concern.

The last few hours flooded his memory. Lola had left with Jon then he’d gotten drunk on tequila. Guess he was out of practice with the whole drinking to excess thing.

Holding the ice pack to his head, Braden got to his feet, his head a bit dizzy, but his intentions clear. He turned to his friend. “I don’t need a hospital. Just a ride home. I’ve got to get some rest. Tomorrow, I’m going to make her mine.”

CHAPTER 13

If ever though shalt love,

in the sweet pangs of it remember me;

For such as I am, all true lovers are,

unstaid and skittish in all motions else

save in the constant image of the creature

that is beloved.

William Shakespeare,
Twelfth Night
, act 2, scene 4

Lola didn’t believe in the walk of shame. So why she felt uncomfortable slinking into Braden’s house at eight in the morning, she didn’t understand. It wasn’t his business where she’d slept the previous night. Still, that didn’t explain why she chose to quietly unlock the front door rather than barrel through as she normally would. She tiptoed through the foyer, intent on packing her bags before he discovered she was there.

“Good morning,” he said, startling her.

Her breath caught in her throat and she jumped, covering her heart with her hand.

He sat on the bottom of the stairs with Zeus purring in his lap. With his hair disheveled and dark circles under his eyes, it looked like he hadn’t slept well, if at all. She probably didn’t look much better. Of course, on him, messy was sexy as hell. She wanted to plunge her hands into that dark hair and soothe the ache in his eyes.

She coughed, clearing her throat. “Morning. Sleep well?” she said brightly, trying to ignore the tension between them.

“No,” he said plainly. He stared at her, his expression unreadable.

She shifted back and forth on her heels, waiting for him to elaborate. He stroked Zeus from head to tail, the cat’s eyes closed in contentment. She couldn’t take her gaze from Braden’s strong hand. Tingles vibrated up and down her spine as if Braden was caressing her rather than the animal in his lap. Her eyes involuntarily fluttered shut and she trembled, overwhelmed by the sensation of Braden’s feather soft touch on her skin. The smell of cinnamon and sugar tickled her senses. How could Braden’s scent reach her from across the room?

Warmth enveloped her, but the tremors continued. Why was she shaking?

“Shh,” he whispered in her ear, his lips grazing her lobe.

He held her in the shelter of his arms like a tree protecting them from the coming storm in last night’s dream. Her head rested on the hard contours of his chest, her thighs pressed against the solid muscles of his legs. She fit perfectly in his embrace, and for a moment, she allowed herself to savor it, knowing she’d never have the chance again.

His hot breath blew on her neck, and then she felt his mouth latch onto her flesh, sucking it gently, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. An electric current ran through her, her nipples hardening beneath her Hello Kitty T-shirt, moisture coating the inside of her thighs. Her head fell back as he continued his ministrations marking her skin.

“You taste so good,” he groaned, nestling his head between her neck and shoulder. “Where have you been?”

“Please,” she responded, although she didn’t know what she wanted. Please don’t ask questions? Please kiss her? Please let her go?

She opened her eyes to the beautiful sight of that hair she’d desperately craved touching, and without hesitation, she submerged her fingers into its thickness.

His body shook, and when she felt the hardness of his lengthening cock pressing into her lower abdomen, her own body shuttered as well.

He raised his head from her shoulder and placed his hands on the sides of her face. “Did you sleep with him? Did you share his bed?” he asked, his voice tight and pained.

She should lie. There were a million reasons to tell him she spent the night in another lover’s bed. But she couldn’t kid herself any longer. From the moment Braden had kissed her, she’d given him control over her heart. She could only hope when she walked away from him forever, he’d forgive her and find another to share his life, because he deserved someone better than her. Someone would could settle down, who wasn’t always itching to move on. Someone who could stand by his side and help raise the children he’d eventually want. Because that person would never be her.

But she had the here and now, and she intended to spend every moment she could with him expressing with her body what she couldn’t express with words.

“Sex with Jon wouldn’t mean anything—” she began.

His eyes darkened and narrowed as he interrupted, “Did you have sex with him?”

“No,” she managed to say, her pulse roaring in her ears like the waves crashing over the rocks in the stormy sea. “I slept at my apartment. Alone. Not even Reina—”

She didn’t get the chance to finish her sentence before his lips slammed down on hers in almost brutal possession, and in that moment, she lost the ability to think. She could only feel. Her body floated weightlessly above the floor as the world twirled around them. His mouth, hard and unyielding, continued its assault and she matched it with her own intensity. She tasted the sweetness of Braden mixed with the mint of his toothpaste. A soft moan echoed in the foyer and it took her a moment to realize it had come from deep inside her throat. The longing for him overshadowed all of her doubts. They had this moment to share together and she wouldn’t throw it away no matter what the consequences.

His kisses slowed, even as her heart threatened to fly out of her chest it was pounding so quickly.

“Wrap your legs around my waist,” he commanded in a quiet yet domineering voice that thrilled her.

Typically, she’d argue at being told what to do, but for some reason, his words—his tone—zinged straight to her clit.

His arm banded under her ass as she locked her ankles behind his back. He turned and began to carry her up the stairs, the friction of his pelvis against her pussy driving her wild. Everything centered on the spot between her thighs. She just needed a little more pressure to push her over the edge. Not caring if it made her look wanton, she threw her head back and pushed her core tighter against him, grinding her hips in circular motions. Sparks of heat spread outward from her pussy and liquid desire flowed through her veins. Her body shook, her muscles tightening.

As they reached the top of the stairs, he cradled her head in one hand, and as if he knew exactly what she needed, thrust his erection hard against her clit. “Come for me,
agapi mou
.”

Her back arched and she cried out, the pressure inside exploding into a giant fireball.

He stopped in front of a door, gave her a searing kiss, then kicked the door open and strode inside. He carried her to the bed and gently lowered her onto the velvet sapphire comforter. It was a bed fit for royalty and she sank into its warmth, burying her nose in the blanket and inhaling Braden’s scent.

He stood over her, staring down as if wondering what to do to her first. The sides of his mouth tugged up into a small devilish grin. He lowered his body onto her, pressing her deeper into the bed with his weight, and kissed her gently.

Her clothes felt tight and she desperately craved his touch on her naked skin, but he made no move to strip her out of her unsexy Hello Kitty pajamas. She clutched his shirt with the intent of baring his chest to her gaze. He reached around to grab her wrists and pulled them high above her head.

“No touching. Not yet,” he said. “It’s all I can do to stay in control right now.”

She kissed his chin, glad he hadn’t shaved yet. “I want you to lose control.”

He laughed. “It would be all over before it started. Trust me to make you feel good. Then you can touch me all you want. Can you promise me you’ll keep your hands above your head?”

She didn’t need to think about it. The idea she couldn’t use her hands excited her, made her breasts ache with need. “I promise.”

“You won’t regret it,” he swore, raising his torso off her. He slowly drew her shirt over her head, but left it bunched around her wrists like makeshift handcuffs. “Pretty,” he said, brushing his knuckles over the lace edge of her bra at the swell of her breasts.

He tugged down the straps of her bra and kissed each shoulder before moving down her throat to her chest. Growing impatient, she whimpered as he dipped his tongue into her cleavage. When would he take the damn thing off her?

Braden laughed against her chest, obviously enjoying her eagerness. She squirmed against him, trying to convince him to keep going.

“You aren’t good at waiting, are you?” he teased, gazing up at her with hunger in his eyes.

She started to speak when his hands slipped under her ribcage to unclasp her bra. Finally! He either read her mind or she made some sort of expression because he laughed again.

Her bra fell away and he dragged his tongue across each breast, intentionally avoiding both of her beaded nipples. Heat began to build once again in her core and her body broke out in goose bumps.

He stopped and stared at her chest, tracing his fingertips along her ink. “I want to hear the story behind every tattoo. What’s this one?”

“Jack and the Beanstalk.”

Something dark and dangerous flashed over his face. “Tell me you didn’t get it in honor of another man.”

Although it was so old-fashioned, she liked his possessiveness. “Of course not. It’s a reminder of my time in the North Carolina wetlands. The reeds grew as tall as ten feet. They reminded me of the fable of Jack and the Beanstalk. When the artist finished the tattoo, I packed up and moved on.” She couldn’t miss the way he swallowed and flinched with those words. Although she didn’t want to stop, she did want to clarify he knew the score. “Braden, for now, I’m all yours. I want you and I’m willing to share your bed until the audits. But after, I’m still going to leave. Tell me now if that’s going to be a problem because—”

He attacked her lips, swallowing the rest of her words. Forgetting her promise, her hands wound around his neck. He snagged them with one hand and tugged them up to his desired position then dipped down her body to attend to her nipples. He sucked one hard into his mouth, the pressure creating a slight throb in the sensitive skin. His teeth grazed it before soothing it with the tip of his tongue. She blinked back the tears of pleasure that threatened to spill.

His breath fanned her bare abdomen, the scruff on his chin chafing her skin as he rubbed it in circles. “What’s this tattoo for?” he mumbled against her.

“Later I’ll give you a tour of my tattoos, but right now I want to feel your skin against mine. Please, Braden,” she begged.

He sat up and straddled her. For what seemed like an eternity, their gazes locked until he dragged his black T-shirt over his head and threw it to the floor. Her mouth actually began to water as she inspected the hard muscular planes of his chest.

“Can I touch you?” she asked.

“I’m all yours,” he answered with a playful glint in his eye.

She walked her hands up from his belly to his chest, through the dark curly hair between his flat brown nipples then back down, following the sprinkling of hair like a path leading her exploration lower and lower. He sucked in air as she brushed her knuckles over the top edge of his boxers. Interpreting his reaction as acquiescence, she gave him a wicked smile and slid her fingers below the waistband, feeling the course hairs and the tip of his cock. At his groan, she yanked down his shorts and grabbed his waist, pulling him down on top of her then rolling him over to finish stripping him of his clothes.

She traced his six-pack, marveling at the muscles rippling at her touch. His face looked strained, but he kept his hands in a fist to prevent himself from touching her. She hadn’t told him not to touch her, but she appreciated having a moment to drive him as crazy as he’d driven her. Her fingers wandered south. His eyes darkened to the point they appeared almost black, and his chest rose and fell more quickly. Pleased with her progress, she scooted down his body to sit on his thighs.

She stared at his cock for a moment then looked up at him and smiled. Knowing her intention, he groaned even before she took his hard length into her mouth. She curled her tongue over the tip and sucked him further inside.

His hand cradled the back of her head, his fingers clinging to her hair as if it were a lifeline. He was obviously trying to stay gentle with her, but she wanted him to forget and give himself over to her.

His size increased in her mouth and the veins of his cock pulsated against her tongue. She sensed he was close and tightened the suction.

“Lola, honey, you’ve got to stop.” He gripped her chin and pulled her off then dragged her up his body with both hands.

“You didn’t like it?” she asked, puzzled and a bit disappointed.

“Uh, of course I liked it. What’s not to like about the sexiest woman alive taking my dick into her mouth?” he responded, his crude words making her even wetter between her legs. “But I don’t want to come until I’m deep inside your pussy.” He kissed the palm of her hand. “Are you ready for me?”

She swallowed and tried to find the right words, but nothing sounded appropriate for the situation, so she gave him a small nod, tugged down her pants, and turned around to pull them off. Completely nude, she felt the heat of his stare on the back of her neck.    

He came up to sit behind her, and she shivered as he rained light kisses down the length of her spine. His hand skirted around her hip and delved between her drenched folds, testing her readiness. Discovering she was more than ready, he pressed her back into the mattress then opened his nightstand drawer.

With a sigh, she watched the erotic sight of Braden unrolling a condom over his penis and her pussy fluttered in anticipation. He eyed her hungrily, coming down on top of her, his heavy weight a welcome delight. She wrapped her legs around him and he slid inside, stretching her, filling her, completing her.

Had she ever felt so good? She couldn’t remember sex ever electrifying her from the inside out, setting all her nerve endings on fire. With no buildup at all, she teetered on the edge of release, the slide of him overwhelming her senses. Her heart drummed to a staccato beat and her pulse rushed in her ears as he thrust over and over, his hips moving in small circles directly on her clitoris.

He whispered raunchy, sexy words in her ear about all the things he was going to do to her and she was going to do to him. She only processed a few words, but what she did hear excited her and heightened the tension deep in her core. With a small nip of his teeth on her nipple, she flew over the edge, left the ballpark, and toured outer space before landing back in bed with Braden who’d stopped moving and gazed down at her.