Page 64 of Whiskey Neat

Indy nods, finally letting that stupid, sexy smirk take over. “You are. I lost my head for a second just trying to hoard more of your attention.”

I have no idea what to say to all this.

“So, if you’re still down, we can hook up, but we’ll keep it to that. Friends, coworkers, with benefits. Whaddaya say?”

This is what I want. More Indy without all the baggage and hangups being brought to the surface. “Yeah. Good. That works.”

Indy slides his hand to the back of my neck, squeezing gently, and my breath catches in my throat. He searches my eyes for a second before pulling our mouths together in a steamy kiss that has every wounded, broken part of me clamoring with need.

The kiss lingers, neither of us moving to break it. Indy’s mouth is warm, his lips soft and plush, and I give in to my urges and gently bite down on the bottom one. Indy moans before flicking his tongue out and deepening the kiss again.

It takes all the strength I have not to climb across this desk and beg him to fuck me, deeply, filling me completely and erasing every fucked-up experience prior to this.

And that’s exactly why I need to put my guard back up, and fast. Gently, I end the kiss, exhaling slowly as I adjust my dick pressing against the seam of my jeans.

“Christ,” Indy whispers. “Your mouth.”

I push on his chest to put distance between us, but smile to soften the action. “I have work to do, boss.”

Indy stands, a sexy grin on his face as he very obviously squeezes his bulge. “Yeah.” He heads to the door. “I’ll, um, see you later?”

“Have a good day, Indy.”

“You too, Salem.” He winks and leaves the room.

As soon as he’s gone, I slump in my seat and exhale. Fucking hell, that man is like a cauldron of sex and desire, and I want to jump in and swim to my demise.

He’s sorry that he was greedy? At least I played it cooler than I felt last night. Not spending the night was the right call.

We’re back on track now. Sex and coworkers. I’ll work on my shit in the background and never forget that Indy is just for fun. All of this is meaningless in the grand scheme of things. This job and the friendships I’m building are more important than my sex life, so as soon as it’s not fun anymore, it’s over. No hurt feelings, no lingering bullshit. Indy’s on the same page.

Now, if I can just learn to ignore that little ping of sadness inside that still wishes this was so much more…

TWENTY-ONE

INDIANA

It’s been hours since the kiss this morning, and not an ounce of want has dissipated. I’ve been standing at the bar watching Salem flit around the place, talking first with Lowen and then Oakley, and Jack’s attention on him is slowly making my blood boil.

Everywhere Salem goes, Jack’s eyes follow. I even caught him licking his lips at one point. Not that I’m one to preach about professionalism, but come on, dude.

I simmer with barely contained rage, and it’s not at all lost on me that I haven’t shaken my jealousy issue when it comes to Salem.

“Dude,” Ridley says, slapping my back. “If looks could kill, yo.”

“I don’t like how he looks at Salem,” I grumble, not bothering to act cool in front of Rid. “It’s predatory.”

“He gives me the ick too, but Salem is a big boy. He can handle himself.”

“Yeah.” I tear my gaze away from the offending worker. “I need something else to do besides eye-stalking Salem.”

“What happened to your detached approach?”

I blow out a breath and chuckle. “I don’t fucking know. It’s so weird how Salem affects me. We haven’t even fucked.”

Ridley pulls his head back. “Are you sure about that?”

“We’ve had sex, but we haven’t fucked.”

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