Page 2 of Crave Me

“Sorry, Daddy.”

I wake with a jerk, my heart knocking hard against my ribs, my body covered in sweat. I jump up and race to the bathroom, barely getting the toilet lid up in time for me to purge the contents of my stomach. Tears stream down my face and my body convulses. “Fuck!” I lay down on the bathroom floor, the cold tile welcome on my burning cheek, and cry. Wishing I had the comfort of someone who loved me enough to hold me through these nightmares. And maybe love me enough that they’re chased away altogether.

Chapter Two

Dallas

“Careful, Dallas, you keep looking at her like that and people will get the wrong impression.”

“That I’m hoping she’ll erupt into flames?”

“That you’re two seconds away from ripping her clothes off.”

I scoff at my idiot brother. “That is not how I’m looking at her.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”

I cross my arms defensively over my chest. “This is a pointless shit show. I’ll be in my office.”

I start to walk away when my twin brother, Sawyer, grabs my arm.

“You need to stay. This is a big deal, dickhead. Show your support. You bailed yesterday, and she’s worked hard to make all this happen.”

“I don’t support it though, do I? Hosting events here, all these stupid-ass tours and tastings, what’s the point of all this? Dad and Granddad did just fine without letting everyone and their mother waltz through the doors to gallivant around our operation. Why are we?”

“I’m not getting into this with you again. You’ve seen the numbers; you know this is a good move. Blaire’s worked herass off to set us up to host events and tastings here in time for Christmas. Whether you agree with it or not, you’re the chief operating officer and need to show face.”

“Like hell I do.” To prove my point, I walk away with my middle finger in the air and head up the stairs to our offices, slamming the door behind me. I relax into my new Herman Miller office chair, a gift from the same shithead brother downstairs currently pissing me off. He bought it for me after I helped save his fiancé from being abducted by her psycho ex-boyfriend.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to see who the text is from. My four siblings and I have a group text thread, and it keeps our phones going off constantly, but this time, it’s only from Sawyer.

Sawyer:

You’re a dickhead, you know that?

Me:

You think I care?

Sawyer:

You can’t just hide in your office and ignore your responsibilities

Me:

No? Then fire Blaire and cancel this shit show. As long as people are stomping through our business then you can find me in my office

Sawyer:

Pouting like a goddamn baby who didn’t get his way. Grow the fuck up, Dallas

Is that really what he thinks? That I’m pissed off because I didn’t get my way? Frustrated, I turn my phone on silent andtoss it onto my desk with a huff. This is the problem with being in business with family; the lines get blurred, and boundaries are inevitably crossed. My three brothers and I run Aspen Ridge Distillery. It’s been in our family for four generations, supplying whiskey and bourbon to the Pacific Northwest, and it only keeps growing.

Since Sawyer and I are twins, our dad and grandfather weren’t sure which of us would take over the CEO position from our dad, but I happily bowed out of the running, content to be his number two. Last summer, one of our younger brothers, Carter, who handles all of our PR, came up with a plan to generate more income by hosting tastings, events, and tours of the distillery. Unfortunately, Carter had done all of his homework, and everyone was on board with his proposal. Except for me. I thrive in the laid-back environment we’ve had going here; the only people on the property are the staff, and it’s easygoing. Now I’ll have to suffer through the hustle and bustle of events and gaggles of people swarming around while we work. I think we’re opening ourselves up for disaster. The pressure to always be “on” because we represent the company and people are paying to be on our grounds, isn’t something I’m thrilled about either. Go to a goddamn winery or brewery. This is a distillery. I live for the tranquility that this place has had my entire life. Now, with all the changes, my sanctuary has gone out the goddamn window.

To add the cherry on top, Sawyer went ahead and hired an event coordinator after I refused to fill the position like he had tasked me to. And he didn’t hire just anyone. Blaire Hollis is the bane of my existence. She’s the physical representation of everything that irritates me and has ruined everything we had going at the distillery. What’s worse? I am so goddamn attracted to her that it pisses me off. She’s easily the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Wild, fiery red hair that is always worn down, cascading past her shoulder blades, a set of thick thighs that I’ve imagined tossed over my shoulders more times than I can count, a plump ass, and curves that were made for my hands to grab onto. She’s a damn smoke show. A succubus sent by the devil himself to torture me, and I’ve nearly beat my cock to death in the bathroom after every interaction I have with her.

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