Dangerous Beauty: Part Four: Beautifully Broken (19 page)

No wait, not another person. She definitely didn’t want that. Other people were too complicated, and complicated wasn’t allowed in her magical, happy place tub. And neither were stupid boys.

Reaching over to her small towel rack, Reanna grabbed her oversized towel, chuckling lightly at her own words. She wrapped it snugly around her body
. He-he
,
stupid boys
.

Boys
were
stupid, weren’t they? Stupid, and tall … with big muscles, black hair, wicked crooked smiles, sexy sky blue eyes, and drop dead, gorgeous, navy blue Armani suits that made Reanna’s mouth water every time she pictured him in it.
Mmm
…
God
,
he’s sexier than the male models I take pictures of on a daily basis
.

Reanna paused, suddenly realizing where her thoughts had gone.

Dammit!

How did he do that? God this was so frustrating. Wasn’t booze supposed to make a person stop thinking? Reanna had no interest in tipsy thoughts of Kyle’s sexy, stupid body that he was most likely giving to Aniyah.

Ugh! That thought made her stomach turn. What if that was what he was doing right now?

It was the weekend, a Friday night, and only about eleven o’clock, which meant for exciting people like her sister, Ronaldo, Kyle, and Aniyah, the night was just getting started. Everyone was out, living free and being young, sexy, wild, and where was she? Home. Being a fatty, eating every piece of chocolate in her stash, and thinking about a man that was most likely at his girlfriend’s place having fantastic
beautiful people
sex.

Dropping her head forward, Reanna pouted softly.
This is such bullshit
, she thought, walking over to the sink to stare at herself in the mirror. She slapped her hands to the surface of the tan marble counter dramatically, then stared at her reflection in anguish.

Screw Kyle, dammit!
Reanna could be beautiful, too. Maybe not Aniyah beautiful, but those were impossible standards to live up to. She was too busy—she ran a business, and was constantly on the run in the mornings, so she didn’t have time to do all that shit to her face. And Reanna hated—and she meant
hated
—wearing tight clothes. Even earlier tonight on her date, instead of wearing the tight little black dress Ronaldo had picked out for her, Reanna had instead made a huge production of throwing that skanky piece of crap in the trash, then pulled one of the sexy little shift dresses Carter had picked out for her on their last shopping trip, and worn that. The shift dress was airy, it showed a ton of leg, and with the right pair of pumps, Reanna had walked out of the damn house looking like a long-legged super model.

That was Reanna’s version of sexy, and it was better. She swore it was better than Aniyah’s. Reanna cared about Aniyah and all, but … she liked herself better than she liked her. So why the hell didn’t Kyle?

“Jesus Christ, Reanna!” she yelled at herself, pointing at her reflection. “Stop thinking about him!”

But she couldn’t. When Braden wasn’t around, and when she wasn’t working, and, apparently, when she was a little tipsy, she had no distraction keeping her from getting lost in constant thoughts of Kyle. She had no one to keep her from thinking about how much she missed him, how much she wished she could hear his voice, hear him laugh, see that gorgeous smile of his. There was no one around to keep her from acknowledging him as her favorite person … or her best friend, or how stupid this idea of keeping her distance from him was beginning to feel.

Sighing dejectedly, she looked away from her reflection, uninterested in seeing the sadness that was so obviously evident on her face. Okay, this was beginning to get depressing. Now she was just torturing her—

Reanna’s thoughts cut off with a start as her head shot up when the sound of the doorbell echoed through the house … Yes, the doorbell. Someone just rang it at eleven p.m. at night, on a Friday.

“Umm … why?” she asked her empty home, then flinched when the doorbell rang again.

She frowned.
Who the hell could that be?
She knew Tamara and Ronaldo were in Manhattan for their Friday night party hop, and all of her other friends were at home with their families, or out partying, too. So who in the world could possibly be at her door this late?

As soon as she asked herself the question, it was as if a light bulb flipped on in her head.

She smiled wide. “Braden …”

It was Braden. That was the only person Reanna could think of that would be ringing her doorbell this late at night.

She ran to her bedroom door just long enough to stick her head out and tell him she was coming. Thank God her bedroom was on the first floor, or else she was sure he wouldn’t have heard her, and she didn’t want him to leave, thinking she was asleep or something.

Reanna knew she’d sent him home earlier, thinking that it was best that they separate for the rest of the evening, but secretly, because of the direction her thoughts had been taking in her lonely state, she was actually happy his horny ass came back. They weren’t going to have sex—she still wasn’t ready for that—but she was kind of in desperate need of good company, and Braden was that and more. Maybe they could spend the night talking … or better yet, making out like overly-infatuated teenagers. That seemed like safe territory.

Reanna scrambled around her room searching for her sexiest nightgown. Just because they weren’t having sex didn’t mean she shouldn’t look nice for him. After all, in her opinion, wearing something sexy during an all-night make-out spree was a must. She was abstaining from sex for the time being, yes, but she still wanted him to leave in the morning with dirty thoughts of her in a little nighty, dancing around in his gorgeous blond head. The thought alone made her laugh at herself for her ridiculous need to be desired by him. But every woman wanted that, to be desired by the man that they were dating.

She needed something memorable, too—something that would pop into his head every time he thought of her throughout his day. Except when he was saving lives, of course. In those times, he didn’t have to think about her. She wouldn’t want images of her irresistibly sexy thickness putting anyone’s life in danger.

She chuckled again, this time at her silly desire to be his wet dream even though she had mercilessly taken sex off of the table for them, for now. But she couldn’t help her desire. She knew she was hot when she wanted to be. Though the plainness of her looks was nothing to want featured on the front of magazines, like the women she took pictures of on a daily basis, Reanna had her moments. She looked good, when she
felt
good. Just like every other woman in the world.

It had only taken her about five minutes to find the perfect set. It was a short, silk, navy blue chemise, that ended an inch below mid-thigh, and had enticing little slits going up each side and white lace going across the neckline and over the hem at her thighs; it also came with a cute little matching robe. She’d bought the little number on an outing with her girls a few weeks back, and she’d been so convinced she’d never have a chance to wear it. But now, here she was, standing in front of her mirror, running her hands over her curvy hips, trying to decide whether or not she should wear a bra.

It was a hard decision.

She looked good with or without one, so it really didn’t matter. She supposed it was all based on where she wanted Braden’s focus tonight. Though she wished it wasn’t, Braden’s initial move when things got hot between them was to slip his greedy hands directly between her legs, and that left her breasts high and dry—which sucked because her nipples were extremely sensitive whenever she was thoroughly aroused. Seriously, the right type of friction equaled instant orgasm for her. Maybe not wearing a bra would draw his attention to her breasts, then she wouldn’t have to worry about anything going too far. Plus, she would get the pleasurable,
safe zone
attention she craved after four long years of having all work and no man.

Nodding at her genius, Reanna quickly removed the bra she’d put on, then admired herself in the mirror once more. The set was perfect. Sensual, but not too provocative. Just
modestly sensual,
like her. Not too loud, and a little sweet …

The doorbell rang again; this time going off twice.

“I’m coming!” she shouted, then darted over to her dresser and snatched up her lotion. “Gotta hurry.”

She quickly massaged her two favorite lotions on every part of her body until they no longer showed white on her skin, then ran to the bathroom once more to put a little oil on her wild curls. Once she finished, she ran from the bathroom and stopped at her full-length mirror to give herself one last once over, making sure her skin was smooth, and her hair looked as if she’d just gotten out of bed … in the sexiest way possible of course. Then, after grabbing her little robe, she strutted out of her bedroom, feeling confident and irresistible.

Making her way to the door, Reanna only stopped to set out a bottle of wine and two glasses, then went straight to the front door, holding onto the knob as she gave her hair a quick ‘conditioner commercial’ shake.

Taking a deep breath, she gripped the knob. “Act natural, Rea.” She let her robe slide down one shoulder, then opened the door with her best smile, ready to blow away Dr. Harrison with all her voluptuous sexiness. “What do you think you’re doing here—”

Her words cut off with an abrupt gasp the second her now widened eyes locked with the intense pair of sky blue eyes.

Not
Braden
.

The words flashed through her head as she stood in the door motionless, her heart pounding and her mouth agape.

Holy shit. Kyle
.

In all his freaking giant, sexy,
disheveled
looking glory. Who the hell was standing in front of her right now? It looked like Kyle, yes, but there was no way it was him. This man was too … messy. And not
at all
in a bad way.

The man standing in front of her was far from the well put together businessman Reanna remembered from just a couple weeks ago. No. The man in front of her looked not just tired, but
sexy
tired. His suit, which was normally always straightened to perfection, was unkempt. The jacket was open, the top four buttons of his shirt were loose, his tie was hanging around his neck as if he’d just attempted to take it off, and the belt that he usually wore with his suit pants was nowhere to be seen. Then there were his eyes. He looked chronically sleepy, but instead of bags forming under his eyes like a normal human being, he had even sexier bedroom eyes than he had when he was wide awake. His pitch black hair was a bit longer than he normally kept it now, messy even, and it fell into his blue, bedroom eyes in the most gorgeous of ways. He looked like a classic bad boy. One Reanna would imagine came out of a scandalous romance novel. And the shadow of a beard covering his normally clean-shaven face only made his ‘badass’ look
even hotter than it already was.

What was he doing here, at her house? He’d never done this before, come to her; it was always the other way around. He’d call her and she’d come to where he was. This was weird, different, and a little confusing. Reanna was kind of at a loss for words.

Unable to think of anything to say, she lifted her eyes from his clothes, hoping to nonverbally communicate her confusion. But to her surprise, when her eyes lifted, she found that Kyle’s eyes and focus were elsewhere at the moment.

It was like the second she noticed his smoldering stare, the second she noticed his broad shoulders rising and falling with deep steady breaths as he raked his gaze over her body, was the moment her body went into overdrive.

She tried her best to keep a neutral expression as to not give away the effect his gaze had on her, but it was no use. She could already feel her nipples hardening, and she noticed the exact moment when he’d noticed, too, because a low grunt filled the silence between them.

Her cheeks warmed.

Son of a bitch
. She’d forgotten what she was wearing.
This was going to be a very interesting interaction.

Quickly, she pulled her hanging robe up her shoulders and covered herself, and was relieved when his eyes lifted from her chemise back to her face.

Mustering up the courage needed to push past her shyness, Reanna gave Kyle an awkward smile. “Hi,” she whispered, trying her best to keep her voice from shaking. “T-to what do I owe the pleasure …”

“Hi,” she’d whispered shyly, her voice slightly shaky. “T-to what do I owe the pleasure …”

Kyle frowned at her shy behavior, at the clumsy way she stood in front of him holding tightly to her now closed robe, and at the way she stumbled over her words as if she were … uncomfortable in his presence; like she didn’t know him at all.

It didn’t sit well with him.

For hours he’d been sitting in his car, waiting for his temper to calm so that he would be able to approach her like a man after her heart rather than an enraged savage, plagued with jealousy because he’d just spent the past two hours picturing her in the arms of another man.