Page 27 of Brutal Power

“But—” My brain searches desperately for an excuse. “We haven’t even kissed.”

His eyes sparkle with amusement and I’m mentally stabbing myself in the neck.

We haven’t even kissed? What the hell is wrong with me? My stupid horny brain is now messing everything up.

Brody’s fingers tease across my cheek. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

“No, I just mean, living together… it’s a lot,” I say quietly.

“I can do something about the kissing.” He tilts my chin up and he’s staring into my eyes. “Everything else we’ll figure out together.”

“Brody,” I whisper.

“You just spent the day with my big, obnoxious family. Don’t pretend like you haven’t thought about what it would be like to be my wife for real.”

“I liked your family,” I murmur.

“I like them too. And you can be a part of that.”

“That’s not what you want.” I dare him to deny it. Every time we talk about our relationship, he’s always quick to say that we’re only an arrangement, only a business deal. He’s so damn cold, except right now, he’s burning fucking hot, and I don’t know what to do. My horny brain is betraying me.

“I want you to live with me. That’s what I want. If that means kissing you—” He leans in closer. Oh my god, that mouth, those lips. My eyelids flutter. “If that means giving you what youneed?—”

His mouth buries mine and I’m done. I’m totally done. I’m so far gone it’s like my brain’s floating up on the roof leaving my body behind to turn to jelly. But I have enough strength left to kiss him back, and to make this absolutely pathetic whimperingsound into his lips, which makes him groan in return as his tongue laps against mine and his taste floods my mouth.

That kiss. My god.That kiss. It shouldn’t be this good—I’ve kissed plenty of men in my life and it’s never,everbeen like this before.

My heart is pounding and he has to feel it. I can feel his heart racing too, and I feel him getting hard against my belly, fuck, so freaking hard, and I can do terrible things to that dick if I wanted, delicious and incredible and fucked things, but I’m maybe a little more drunk than I realized, and this relationship isn’t about that.

It’s about business. It’s about getting what I want.

I pull away from the kiss and it’s like snapping my own neck.

He stares at me, breathing hard, his kiss-reddened lips still parted. He doesn’t move. It’s like he’s restraining himself.

“We shouldn’t.” The words tumble out of my mouth even though I really want to saytake me upstairs.

He closes his mouth. His lips press flat. “We could,” he whispers.

“I can’t.” I move past him and hurry to the door.

“Wait. You said you’d stay the night.” He follows me and stops beside the steps.

I stare up and look back at him. “Is that a good idea?”

“I have a guest room.”

“Does the door lock?”

“It does, but I doubt it would keep me out.”

“That’s not very reassuring.” I chew on my lip. It’s late and I’ve been drinking, and maybe it is a good idea to crash here right now. Not to sleep with him—but to get used to this house. If that’s something we end up doing.

It’s amazing how much I can rationalize.

“Fine, but you keep your hands to yourself.” I straighten my spine and try to regain some of my dignity. “And this isn’t one of those times where I say one thing but mean another.”

He’s fighting a smile. “I never thought it was.”

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