Page 48 of Treat

“Are you okay?”

Maybe staring at his mouth was the wrong thing to do now that she thought about it. The lush curve of it, perfectly displayed now by neatly trimmed whiskers, wasn’t doing her heart rate any favors. “I’m fine,” she lied. “Your mustache looks, um, good. Really…”Delicious. Kissable.Ridable.“Good.”

His thighs flexed under her hands, and the slight jostling had her holding on a little tighter. He grunted. “Glad to hear it. Brynn?”

Ridable. How would that thick bristle feel between her thighs? Would it be too much? Just enough? “Hmm?”

“You’re killing me.”

“Oh!” She straightened, snatching her hands off his legs. “I’m sorry. Was I leaning on you too hard?”

He looked her dead in the eyes. “No.”

“Oh.”

There was so much heat in his sharp blue gaze, so much want and lust and pure, unadulteratedneedthat she felt like she was sitting at the top of the tallest roller coaster at Cedar Point, looking out over Lake Erie with her heart in her throat, thrilled and terrified because she knew any second she was going to be flying out into space. Exceptflying out into spacehad been replaced within Jude’s armsand it was so exciting she thought she might faint.

“I really want to kiss you,” he said, his voice a strangled rasp that scraped over her already stretched nerves like sandpaper. Delicious, delightful sandpaper.

She could only nod while giddy anticipation bubbled in her chest. “Okay.”

His hands clenched into fists. “And other stuff.”

“I like other stuff,” she said and lurched forward, eager for all the stuff.

“But I can’t.”

She stumbled to a halt. “You can’t?”

He shook his head, agony twisting his face. “I can’t be that guy.”

“What guy?” she asked, not understanding. The one who made her come screaming? Yes, he could—she’d show him how.

“The guy who makes a move on his assistant,” he said firmly.

“Then I’ll make the move,” she offered, and with Amy’s voice sayingcarpe the goddamn diemin her head, she grabbed the side of his face in both hands, jerked his head back, and kissed him.

Jude frozefor maybe three seconds. Then it hit him—Brynn is kissing me—and the shock burned off in a flood of stunned joy and sizzling lust.

Her lips were soft and slick and thrillingly aggressive, pressing and twisting, tugging and rubbing while her hands held his head in place. Desire was a mule kick to the belly, a knockout punch to the head, leaving him dazed and shaky and wanting more.

Much, much more.

She made a sound against his mouth, a plea, a demand, and he answered it, closing his teeth on her bottom lip. He nipped,then sucked, then swept his tongue into her mouth and lost himself in the taste of her.

Swamped with feelings, his thoughts a lust-soaked swirl, he dragged her closer with hands he hadn’t been aware of clamping onto her hips. Her belly hit his, soft and sweetly rounded, giving him a hundred more sensations to process and a thousand more needs pricking at him like needles.

“More,” she breathed, her tongue chasing his.

“More,” he agreed and surged to his feet, ready to scoop her up and carry her to the bed or the couch or better yet the damn floor, it was closest, and then his front door sprang open and a big hairy redheaded man with a beard and a curvy brunette with cherry cola streaks in her dark hair burst in yelling “Surprise!”

8

“Are we interrupting something?” Tuck asked cheerfully, prompting an eye roll from his wife, a scowl from Jude, and a mad blush from Brynn as she scrambled away.

Not knowing what else to do, Jude let her go. “What are you two doing here?”

“E is working the tattoo expo at the casino this weekend, so we thought we’d surprise you,” Tuck said. He cut his gaze to Brynn, then back to Jude, a wide grin splitting his thick ginger beard. “Surprise.”

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