Page 46 of Things We Burn

Brax’s eyes rested on me for a split second, casting up and down, what I would bet was a faux smile on his face. “Nice to meet you.” His tone dripped with dismissal. I could tell he didn’t think I was worth his time. I had a lot of experience with men looking at me like that.

“We’re so close to signing the Adidas deal,” he spoke to Kane as if I weren’t there. “There are some execs here, want to meet you, photo op, and then we’ll be in for a three-year contract.”

“I’m busy right now,” Kane said, holding on to me.

Brax’s eyes darted to me, irritation flickering in them before flashing a too white smile. “It’ll take five minutes. I’m sureAverycan entertain herself for that long. We’ve got a great buffet.” He looked at me as he dragged his hand over his jaw.

The way he said my name made my lip curl. Before now, I’d had a placid expression on my face because even if I got the sense this was an asshole in a suit, he was connected to Kane, so I was going to be polite.

But my eyes narrowed at what was left unspoken. He considered me to be just another bimbo. And if I wasn’t mistaken, a bimbo who wasn’t as skinny as the other bimbos.

I didn’t know if Kane picked up on the insult since Brax delivered these subtle insults the same way a woman might. And the truest skill of that insult was to ensure no one but other women understood it.

The tilt of Kane’s head, the clench to his jaw and the general energy around him communicated that he at least read the dismissal of me.

“I’mentertaining Avery,” he bit out. “You do whatever the fuck you want with those corporate fucks. I’m going with my woman, and you’re getting out of my way.”

Brax’s megawatt smile dimmed for only a millisecond.

“Of course. We’ll touch base later.” He quickly stepped aside, immediately submitting to Kane, but the edge to his smile told me I needed to look out for him.

He was a weasel.

Kane didn’t hesitate to continue our journey, nuzzling my neck.

Despite Kane’s touch and my body’s instinctual reaction to it, I couldn’t help my feeling like I was covered in a thin layer of grease and oil.

But then Kane pulled me into the bathroom and his lips plastered over mine, with fire and heat, and that oil burned right off.

Nine

“As much asI love you in fucking pants, Chef, I’ve gotta say that a skirt would make for easier access.” Kane was buttoning my pants in a gesture that was strangely intimate, despite what we’d just done.

Had sex. In the bathroom of his party. He’d done it in front of a mirror, my hands on the quartz sink. I’d watched him fucking me, hard, quick, hungry. His hand had red bite marks in it from where I’d sunk my teeth into it at the peak of my orgasm.

“I’m not a skirt person, but I think I could be persuaded to make an exception,” I answered before I could realize I was, theoretically, against a man telling me what to wear.

But I’d discovered I liked, really liked, semipublic sex. And I wanted to do more of it with Kane. Logistically, skirts made sense.

Kane took hold of my waistband and yanked me so I was flush with his body. “As much as I fuckin’ love that you’d make an exception for me when I get the feeling you don’t make exceptions for anyone, I don’t want you to. Like the pants.” His hands ghosted over my backside. “They’re you, and you can get on the back of my bike.”

My gaze swam in his, utterly lucid with the knowledge that I was falling in love with this man. No, I had fallen. Long ago.

Kane walked us out of the bathroom and I didn’t even bother to look around to see whether anyone had seen us go in together. I didn’t care.

His gaze wandered behind me. “Okay, now you’re gonna meet my brother.”

My head whipped behind me, my gaze searching through the throngs of people to land on a cutting figure in a black suit, taller than the others, who seemed to stand out on presence alone. That could only be Kane’s brother.

My head snapped back to Kane, eyes narrowed. “Kane, the first time I meet your brother cannot be when I look like I’ve just been fucked in a bathroom,” I hissed, trying to smooth my hair, which was no doubt a mess.

Kane chuckled, arms around me as he walked us in the direction of the man in black. “Oh, Chef, the absolute best and only time I want you to meet my brother is when you are red from coming around my dick, and my cum is dripping out of you. Otherwise, the fuck may get some ideas about stealing you from me.”

His words were crass, but they were true. The first part, at least. My face still felt hot; therefore, it must’ve been red, and the wetness in my panties communicated our lack of condom and my lack of responsibility since we’d used one the first two times then never again.

Kane had been hovering above me, eyes locked with mine in question when he’d pressed in, bare.

“Yes,” I’d breathed at his silent request.

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