BRAYDON’S POV
God, she smells so good.
Like pink clouds. I don’t even know what pink clouds smell like, but whatever she’s wearing? That’s it. That’s the scent. I need to beg her for the name so I can spray it all over my room and trick my brain into thinking she’s actually in my bed.
Because that’s where my mind goes. Straight to her on my bed, not the lecture by this egotistical businessman. Not the advice he’s churning out. Her.
Her on my sheets. Her losing her mind while I have my face between her thighs. Her fingers pulling my hair while I try to memorize the taste of her.
She probably thinks I keep looking at her because I’m zoning out or bored. No, babe. I’m looking at you because I’m fighting demons. And all of them are telling me to ruin you the next time I feel the warmth o
