Page 38 of Brew
“I don’t think murdering a potential date is quite what I had in mind.”
He doesn’t flinch. “I do what has to be done.”
“Hmm, that sounds a little above your pay grade, wouldn’t you say,Boss?”
“Now I’m your boss? I thought I was just here to decorate.”
Woah, was that Brew making a joke?
I can’t help but smile. “What would you prefer me to call you?Dylan?” I don’t know why that pops out of nowhere. My eyes widen at my mistake. “I mean?—”
He cups my face once more, he’s so damn close. I realize I do want his hands on me, his mouth,everything, and I don’t care what that makes me. “Say that again.” The growl that rolls through him makes my legs attempt to squeeze together, but he’s blocking me. He smirks, realizing it at the same time I do. “Nuh, uh. Say my name again.”
“Brew.”
He pinches my chin, sending electricity running through me. “Smart ass.”
I close my eyes, daring to believe he’d want to kiss me back. “Dylan.”
“You’re throbbin’ aren’t you?”
“I know you are.”
His smirk tells me all I need to know; he’s enjoying this. “Would you be so cocky if I slipped my hand up your skirt right now to see how wet you are?”
Holy moly. I think we just went right past complicated, and headed straight to,Oh, yes please.
“I think this is the most you’ve said to me in two years,” I deadpan.
He chuckles. I feel it. I feel his warmth as much as he tries to hide it. But why would he hide it? I get he’s been traumatized. If there’s one thing I can relate to, it’s trauma. But he has so much to give, and so much more to receive if he’d just open his heart. Learning to live again is part of the healing process. Not that I’ve lost anyone to cold-blooded murder, so it’s barely a comparison. “You’re analyzin’ me again.”
It’s like he can see into my soul. “No, I’m just wondering if you can live up to all these promises.” Anyone would think it was me who’d been drinking, but no, I’m running on a lust-induced adrenaline high, courtesy of Brew.
“You’re wonderin’ if I can make you come using just my fingers?”
Oh, my goodness.
I try not to melt into a puddle on the desk; the same desk I’ll never be able to look at the same way again. “No, I wasn’t.”
“But you are now.”
“Dylan?” I pause, letting the words settle. “What are we doing?”
“Let me make you feel good.”
My lips part, and I’m a quivering mess inside. I want that. I want that so, so much. “I- I don’t know how,” I whisper. “It’s been a long time since… since I let anyone in. I don’t know that side of me anymore.”
“It’s pretty basic,” he says. “You sit back and watch me make you come.”
My eyes widen. “And then we just go back to passing each other in the hallway at work?” I don’t want a marriage proposal, but we have to consider what this will mean.
“Do you always overthink things?”
“Do you always cage your employees against their desk and threaten them with orgasms?”
His smirk turns up once more. “No, it’s a first for me.”
I feel a little relieved hearing that.
