Page 33 of Borrowing My Bestie's Brothers

If you’d asked me which guy could have me confessing my frustrations about Mum in one second and gorging on delicious pizza in the next, I wouldn’t have pointed to Brock, but here I was. All family troubles were shoved aside as a symphony of carbs, dairy, meat, and vegetables had a party in my mouth. I let out an involuntary groan, which was super embarrassing considering what we’d been up to before. Yep, that was confirmed when Brock stopped eating to stare.

“Sorry, Millie says you can’t take me anywhere,” I said. “But damn, this pizza is good.”

His lips curved into a smile.

“Oh, I’m not complaining. I mean I like to hear a girl make that sort of sound when I’m on a date, but usually a little later.”

I ducked my head, but that didn’t stop me from taking another piece. Brock saw my reticence and started piling food onto my plate. A different kind of pizza, garlic bread, those cool rice balls things. He kept going until I was forced to stop him.

“You should be filling your own plate.” I nodded to his empty one. “I mean…” My lips still stung from the kisses he’d given me. There was something so fucking brutal about him. Brock seemed to storm in and claim whatever he saw as his and that was hot. “You’re going to need your strength, right?”

“I was fairly sure you were never going to touch me again after I started asking questions,” he said, grabbing his own slice, but right as he took a big bite, my hand slid down, cupping him under the tablecloth. His eyes went wide and he was forced to chew furiously as he coughed and spluttered.

“Oh no, that’s still happening. You’ve been walking around the workshop looking like lumberjack porn for too many years for me to say no.”

“Yeah?” His reply was ruined by his hoarse voice. He was forced to grab his drink and down a big mouthful. “That’s what you’ve been thinking? You kept that quiet.”

“Oh yeah, men with their shirt sleeves rolled up.” I ran a tentative finger up his forearm, only for him to flex his muscles. “The whole grumpy thing with the beard.” His eyes narrowed as I ruffled my fingers through it like someone might pet a cat. “I had thoughts. What about you?”

I felt like I had my arse hanging out in the wind right now, making myself vulnerable, but when I went to look away, he tipped my chin upwards. Those pale-brown eyes sparkled as he smiled.

“If you had any idea of what I thought about doing to you.” His voice was a low growl. “Not when you were my apprentice, but… that little desk scenario you described?” Suddenly I could see it, me crawling under the desk, sliding his zipper down and fishing out his hard cock as someone knocked on the door. Him telling them to come in, even as his hand went to the back of my head. He’d feed his dick past my teeth, swallowing a hiss as he talked business with the visitor, every muscle flexing as I swallowed him deep. Then he’d start rocking his hips, unable to just let me go to work. “Well, for me it went a little different.”

“Yeah?” I pushed my plate aside, but he just stared at it meaningfully. Forced to pick my pizza up again, I munched on it as I listened to him recount his fantasy in a low, ragged voice.

“You, coming up to my office for some reason. That’s always vague, the details never mattering, but you’d…” His eyes burned into mine. “You’d stop talking about some car or that we need more oil or whatever and you’d see it.”

“What?” I barely whispered that.

“How much I wanted you and you’d feel the same.” His wish was granted right now, my thighs moving restlessly under the table. “That you couldn’t spend one more minute just standing there, not when you could be with me. I’d cross the room to get to you and you’d meet me halfway. When we came together, it’d be like a car crash: explosive, life changing, something you’d be lucky to walk away from.”

I shook my head, unable to believe what he was saying.

“I’d get to peel off those fucking overalls, drag away that ratty t-shirt you’re always wearing.” It was one of my brother’s old Guns N’ Roses t-shirts. “Wiggle those jeans down over an arse I’ve spent far too long staring at and then shove all the paperwork and my laptop to one side.”

I saw them falling in a flurry, covering the floor of his office.

“I’d set you on the edge of my desk, thighs apart, showing me all of your secrets and then I’d spread you open.” His words were crude, delivered hoarsely, and yet there was a kind of poetry to what he said. “Right before I devoured you. My face buried in your cunt, your hands in my hair, urging me on, just as you started to scream. The guys, clients, the whole damn block would hear me making you…” He swallowed hard. “Making you come all over my face.”

My mouth was dry from hanging open, because what he described both painted a perfectly vivid picture and was so completely different than what I imagined was going on behind his eyes when we talked in his office.

But I wanted it.

Exactly as he said. Well, maybe not the screaming part. God, I’d never live that down, but?—

“How’re we doing over here?”

Our heads jerked around like a couple of guilty children caught with their hands in the lolly jar. I blinked, trying to come up with a response and failing, not while I had that scenario playing out inside my head.

“Food is amazing, but we’ve probably ordered a bit much for the two of us,” Brock replied smoothly. “Can we get the rest to go?”

“Of course.”

And so we walked out of the restaurant toting bags of food that Brock tossed in the back of his car.

“I had plans,” he told me as we stood there, the night breeze tugging at my hair. “A walk down the beach. A discussion of how we wanted this to go.”

“I went down the beach with Hayden,” I replied. Was that a faint frown I saw? “It’s totally overrated. Windy, sand gets everywhere…” A smile soothed that away.

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