A Taste of You (Bourbon Brothers)

by Teri Anne Stanley

  She needed to focus on making sure everything was ready for Lorena’s shindig. Her mother had been at her door at dawn three days this week with questions, a few of which Eve hadn’t been able to answer. How many folding chairs were they going to have to rent? Were the caterers bringing pulled pork and beef sliders, or just pork? What were they having for the vegetarians, the pescatarians, the poultry eaters, and the gluten intolerants?

  Nick had managed to completely throw her off her game.

  Normally, Eve was ahead of Lorena and only had to pop open her planner to show her mother that she had every contingency taken care of on a carefully color-coded page.

  Thinking of which, she needed more Post-it flags. Did she have any extras in the magic closet? There were plenty of fluorescent ones, but what about the classic colors she was using for this notebook?

  “Hey.”

  Eve jumped. She’d been so caught up trying to avoid the mystery of what was or wasn’t going on with Nick that she hadn’t heard him come up behind her.

  “Sorry.” He laughed, putting his big hand on her back, between her shoulder blades, sending heat down her spine, making her want to arch and purr. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Serious glass counting here, huh?”

  “Um, yeah. Glasses.” Okay, counting glassware calmed her down when she was feeling unsettled. So sue her. She had no idea how many were in the box she’d just opened. They were supposed to be in neat little columns, divided up by cardboard partitions, forty-eight to a box, but whoever had put these away last had—

  “Do you have any tape?”

  “I think so,” she said, looking outside where Raleigh sat frowning and muttering to Franklin. “What do you need it for?”

  Something in her expression must have given away her thoughts.

  “I’m not going to cover my dad’s mouth, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “I would never imagine such a thing.”

  “Oh, I would. Imagine it.” He smiled mischievously. “But I wouldn’t do it. No, I need to take some of these edging strips back to the house to re-cut, because apparently my thirty-five-degree angle isn’t what Captain Pain in the Ass wants, and he’s going to use the tape to stick directions to each one.”

  “A man after my own heart.” Eve hopped down from her stool and turned to face Nick. “I think this calls for a trip to the magic closet.” She nodded emphatically. “You go tell Raleigh we’ll be right back, and I’ll meet you at the golf cart.”

  He walked to the open window and stuck his head out. “Hey. We’re going to get some supplies. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Through the glass, over his shoulder, Eve saw Raleigh look toward them, but didn’t hear his reply. Nick said, “We’ll get right on that.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said to hurry. His ice is melting.”

  “Oh, poor thing.” Making sure she had her planner, she led the way to the golf cart and slid into the driver’s seat.

  Nick hopped in next to her, and she turned the key, backing up with a loud warning beep.

  “This thing sounds like it wants you to think it’s a dump truck,” Nick told her.

  “Shhh. It doesn’t know.”

  The cart putted along the crushed gravel path toward the main entrance.

  “Where is this magic closet, anyway?” Nick asked.

  “In the main office building. I’ll be opening a second satellite closet in the new building, though. The gift shop is going to need a whole different set of supplies.” The possibilities gave her goose bumps.

  They pulled up to the stoop of the functional little building where the Blue Mountain offices were and went inside to the cool, shady office.

  The air conditioning hummed, but otherwise there was no sound in the place.

  “Where is everyone?”

  She shrugged. “Out doing other stuff. There’s usually someone here, but it’s Friday, and you never know who’s taking a personal day and who’s out in the plant.”

  They were alone. Eve was suddenly nervous. What was the deal? She wanted to ask Nick if the incident in the truck last weekend was a one-shot deal, if he’d decided he really wasn’t that into her, or if there was going to be more, but reminded herself that she was taking things as they came. Not stressing over the future. The bag with her planner inside banged against her hip as she led Nick down the hall to a door at the end.

  “Well, this is it,” she told him.

  “Your mecca.”

  “No. The Office Superstore out on 62 is my mecca. This is just a temple.”

  “You really like office supplies, huh?”

  “Oh yeah,” she told him. “Those times I get to take the company credit card and go to the office store? All that potential for organization and efficiency? It’s like Christmas and New Year’s Eve all rolled into one.”

  “Copy paper.” He said it in a deep, growly voice that could have come from a 1970’s R&B singer. “Thumb tacks.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, and she giggled.

  She turned away to grab the door handle, and he stepped closer, so she could feel him almost but not quite touching her from shoulder to butt. No, it wasn’t the thought of file folders that had her nipples tightening and heat pooling low in her belly.

  She stepped back, bumping into him as she pulled the door open, revealing her stash of office supplies.

  “Paper clips.” This was more of a husky whisper. Which did actually send a shiver down her spine, but not because of the words themselves, more about the way he said it. Right into the place where her shoulder met her neck. His hands were on her hips now, and with just a tiny bit of effort, he could have her fully back against him. “Ballpoint pens.”

  Her entire body flushed, and she took a chance asking the question, because leaving this up to fate was no longer an option. “Are you trying to seduce me with sexy language?”

  “Is it working?”

  “I think it is,” she told him and turned to face him.

  Nick pulled Eve into his arms and kissed her, bending his head to taste her lips as he pressed her body against his, loving the way her gentle curves fit against him. He hadn’t meant to wind up like this with her again. He’d wanted to give her some space, to give himself some space to figure out whether being together like this was a mistake or inevitable.

  But a week away hadn’t helped him put it in perspective, and after just a few minutes back in her presence, the “inevitable” option seemed to be the one taking the lead. He just couldn’t stop wanting to touch her, to make her laugh, and to touch her some more.

  Their lips and tongues slid together, breath mingling and hands clutching. She was a few inches too short for him to kiss and press against at the same time, so he grabbed her ass and hoisted her up.

  She came willingly, wrapping her slender legs around his hips as he moved forward, into the closet. A quick glance around showed him shelves on all three walls, so he held her with one hand and pulled the door shut so he could press her against it.

  He was aching, and he pushed his erection against the heat between her legs.

  “Ohhhh…” She moaned, squirming in response, her legs tightening more around his hips.

  He leaned back to run his hands up her torso, over her breasts, which seemed to rise to his hands. Her nipples were visible through the fabric of her bra and the thin cotton of her top, and he brushed them with his thumbs, eliciting another, deeper moan.

  Sliding one hand back down to her waist, he pulled the T-shirt up and over, exposing her small, firm breasts in the white lacy bra. He inhaled the spicy floral scent that seemed to rise from her very skin. He had to touch her.

  “How does this—”

  She removed a hand from his shoulder to flick open the front clasp, and then he was feasting on her, lifting her farther up so he could suck her breast into his mouth while she clutched his head and cried out.

  He rasped his tongue over her nipple, enjoying the feeling of her filling his mouth, tug
ging at her, listening to her little whimpers here in this dark little office closet.

  How good it would be to have her laid out beneath him in a big king-size bed in the middle of the afternoon, light streaming across her skin, feasting on her, worshiping her body with his.

  That’s what this should be. A banquet, a ceremony. Not a surprise attack in a closet in the middle of the work—

  “What’s wrong?” Eve panted.

  “I’m sorry, I—” He broke off. Why was he sorry? “I wasn’t planning to start this.”

  “I totally wanted you to start this.” She proved her words by squirming against his aching cock and whimpering.

  “Oh, Jesus.” He put his forehead against hers, trying not to grind her into the wall. “This should be…more.”

  “It will be more if you’ll stop thinking.” And with that, she kissed him again, sucking his tongue into her mouth and making little stroking motions with her own tongue while she moved between him and the closet door.

  His knees buckled, but he managed to keep her upright as he slid to the floor, and then he was kneeling in front of her, her bare tummy right in his face, so he pressed his mouth against her skin, kissing, licking, and biting and listening to the sounds she made. Her fingers in his hair urged him on, assuring him that, as unromantic as a supply closet might be for some people, it was totally working for her. And there was no doubt it was working for him. He’d never been so hard in his life, unless you counted the back seat of his truck in a thunderstorm, which he no longer did. This was even hotter, and it was right now.

  He used his teeth to tug open the button at the waistband of her shorts, because his hands were full of her butt cheeks, squeezing the soft flesh over firm muscle, but he couldn’t deal with the zipper. She released his hair to help him, and he reluctantly let go of her ass so he could slide the shorts down her legs. And he was very glad he did.

  The little scrap of satin over her mound was smooth against his mouth when he pressed his face into it, inhaling her desire, reveling in the knowledge that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  He mouthed her through the fabric, tracing her swollen flesh with his lips. Her thighs trembled beneath his palms when he went for the elastic and pulled her panties down so he could fully taste her. He slid his thumbs along the inner curves of her thighs until he reached the apex then parted her folds, wishing his hands weren’t so rough, hoping he didn’t hurt her, but she only moaned and arched toward his mouth.

  He licked into her then, tasting her arousal while pulling one of her legs over his shoulder so he could immerse himself in this, the best oral sex he’d ever had—and he wasn’t even on the receiving end. The little sounds she made and her movements were enough to give him wet dreams for the rest of his life, even if things didn’t go the least bit further than they were right this minute.

  Her hips rocked gently in response to his actions and he felt her swelling beneath his tongue, so he increased the pressure and tempo just slightly, until her movements became jerky and her quiet gasps became cries. He slid two fingers into her, just barely stretching, and that must have been exactly the right thing to do, because then she was coming, holding his head against her as she flooded his senses with her orgasm.

  For a moment, there was only the sound of them both panting. She leaned back against the inside of the closet door while Nick knelt below her, still running his hands up and down her legs, which seemed to be keeping the climax from fading completely.

  The floor of this closet was exactly seven feet by five feet, a fact she knew because she’d measured it when installing shelves. With shelves, there was about five feet of floor space. It would be tight, but they’d have to manage.

  She slid down the wall and met Nick as he seemed to be rising. She couldn’t see him very well in the near complete darkness, but she grabbed his shoulders to pull him back down with her.

  “Oh no,” she said. “We’re not done here.”

  “Darlin’, we’ve got to get back before someone misses us,” he protested, but clearly didn’t mean it, because when she felt her way down his body, she got a handful of rock hard Nick, and his muffled groan was enough to tell her that he wasn’t going to protest.

  She reached for his belt and slid the leather through the metal buckle. His normal soap-and-wood-shavings scent was richer from exertion and want.

  She moved into his body, and he surrounded her with his arms, laying her back onto the carpeted floor and coming down over her. His kiss carried her own scent when he trailed his lips over her collarbone and pushed her hands away to help her with his pants.

  “Condom?” she asked.

  “Oh.” He stopped. His teeth flashed in the darkness. “Damn. I don’t have my wallet with me.”

  “Okay,” she said. She was creative. She sat up, pushing him over to his side and reaching for him. He went willingly, but not passively. He leaned up on his elbows as she tugged at his fly; his eyes glinted in the dim light while she pulled the zipper down. He reached for her, stroked her hair.

  A sudden noise from the other side of the door made them both freeze.

  “I don’t know where they are,” a male voice said. “The old guy said they were going to get some labels or something.” Brandon.

  “Maybe that was just an esscuse,” Lesa, Brandon’s girlfriend, her Spanish accent thick as agave syrup, answered. “Knowing Eve, she’s got some stashed everywhere. That girl should open her own mobile office store.”

  Eve felt a giggle building and worked to stifle it.

  Nick’s breath was shallow; he was clearly trying hard not to give away their position.

  What should they do? Scramble to their feet and jump out, yelling, “Surprise!”?

  Try to get up without making any noise and hope they didn’t get caught? Unlikely, given the tight quarters and Nick’s broad shoulders.

  Probably best just to stay in position and hope Brandon and Lesa got whatever they’d come in for and left quickly.

  Nick hadn’t moved a muscle. Her fingers rested on his still enthusiastic erection, however, and when she tentatively flexed her fingers, he responded with a barely audible intake of breath.

  “Don’t you dare,” he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. And yet he made no move to stop her. Because he was afraid he’d make noise? Or because he wanted her to dare.

  “Well, you can show her your aphrodisiac boob booze bottle idea later, I’m sure,” Brandon said drily.

  “Don’t sound so sarcastic,” Lesa said. “You liked the results well enough.”

  He laughed, and there was the unmistakable sound of kissing and then she laughed, too.

  “Where did you leave the folder?” Lesa’s voice was closer now, just outside the door.

  Oh, please God, let this not be a new empty folder they’re looking for. Let it be an old one that’s stuffed full of paper so they don’t need to open the door and grab a handy replacement from the pile on the shelf above Eve’s head.

  “I don’t know.” Brandon was farther away, and a drawer closed somewhere. “But I had it in here yesterday when we had that conference call with your dad.”

  Nick was still hard as a rock beneath Eve’s hand, and she slid her fingers up to where his pants were opened. His stomach sucked in when she traced the elastic at the edge of his underwear. Jockey shorts, she remembered from the other day. Or good old Fruit of the Loom.

  The energy in the closet was tight, electric, and with every breath, Eve inhaled Nick.

  Drawers continued to open and close and conversation continued outside, but she was oblivious, because she was sitting on the closet floor, in no pants at all, and Nick’s hand had just moved over her knee. The calloused skin of his palm rasped over her, and she moved toward him a little, so that—yes.

  “Shhh…” He stroked between her legs, where she’d not a few moments ago had an incredible orgasm, but was already wet and aching for him again.

  She tugged his underwear down and released h
im to her touch, and it was her turn to shush him as he responded.

  His fingers worked her as she worked him, stroking the hard length, learning his texture, what made his breath catch or sigh. It was cramped and awkward and uncomfortable, making out on this little closet floor, but they made it happen. She barely gripped Nick, wishing for something slippery, but there was no way she could maneuver around to take him in her mouth without knocking something over and scaring the hell out of Brandon and Lesa—and embarrassing the hell out of everyone.

  Which made it all that much hotter.

  Nick’s breath began to stutter slightly, and his fingers shook between her legs, losing their rhythm, but vibrating her toward the point of no return. As heat and tension coalesced in her core, Nick tensed in her hand, and then they were both coming, his ejaculation making her fingers slip and slide along his shaft and over the head until he grabbed her hand and made her stop.

  For long moments they lay tangled together, working to control their breathing so it didn’t sound like there were a pair of racing freight trains hiding in there with them.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened,” Brandon was saying.

  “Well, we can print out another one,” Lesa told him. “Just give me a minute to boot up the computer.”

  Nick pulled Eve down so that her ear was next to his mouth. “I think we’ve given new meaning to your ‘Magic Closet,’” he said, and once again, Eve fought not to laugh out loud.

  “Do you think it can produce a cloak of invisibility so we can get out of here?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “So…that happened,” Nick said when they finally emerged into daylight.

  It had taken another ten minutes—which felt like an hour—for Brandon and Lesa to finish printing out whatever it was they’d lost and then, after things were quiet in the outer room, for Eve to gather herself and wiggle her way back into her pants—a few minutes that nearly killed Nick.

  When she’d stood and reached for the light switch, and he’d blinked up into the brightness and her naked bottom in his face—yeah. That almost happened again.