by Flynn, Avery
He stood far enough that she could make an escape if she wanted but close enough that she didn’t want to. He flipped open the notebook but kept staring at her, not even trying to temper the lust swirling in his brown eyes.
The man was a first–class tease.
Remembering the night before at his house and the experimental beer, followed by him shirtless and the kiss that had burned its way into her forever memory, a slow shiver worked its way up her spine. “You’re making a stout.”
“Right.” He reached up and drew her fingers away from her pearl necklace, sending an atom–bomb–level frisson of need through her body. “What makes a stout a stout?”
Fighting her way through the zero–visibility fog in her brain, she sputtered out the first answer she could come up with. “It’s thick and has a foamy top?”
“Not foam, a head.” He laughed and stroked his thumb down the center of her palm before releasing it. He squeezed his eyes closed, clenched his jaw shut and gulped. After a deep breath, he reopened his eyes and sidestepped her so they stood shoulder to shoulder.
At least she wasn’t the only one affected. Triumph and relief battled inside her as she pivoted to face the table.
He laid the notebook on the table and flipped to a page filled with his cramped, printed writing. “Usually, a stout is an opaque black or brown with dark–red highlights. A typical dry stout has a roasted, grainy sharpness, a hint of unsweetened chocolate, and a bitter bite from the hops. The one I’m working on has a touch of an acidic sourness too.”
Natalie made the bitter–beer face, as if she’d just sucked a lemon.
That made him laugh out loud. The sound released some of the sexual tension stringing both of them tight. “Don’t make that face. It’s a good kind of tart sour, not nasty sour like milk gone bad.”
The warm sound of his voice was doing more to ease the worry curdling her lunch about tonight’s stakeout than three trips up and down her pearl necklace. “Why a stout?”
“Ales and IPAs are everywhere, but there aren’t that many small–craft beers that make a stellar stout that stands out. So it’s good business sense for the Sweet Salvation Brewery.” He said it as if reciting a line he’d had to memorize.
The man needed to learn he didn’t have to guard every piece of information as if it were the combination to Fort Knox. “But that’s not all of it.”
“No.” He shook his head and spoke slowly, as if building up to something. “I like the strength of it. The stouts were created to capitalize on the porters that came first. The difference was the stouts were fuller, creamier, with more body and alcohol punch—though not so much anymore.”
“And yours, will it have a higher alcohol content?”
“Not mine. Ours. Sweet Salvation Brewery’s.” The brewery’s name came out in a rush. “And why not? It’s a good differentiator—like an imperial ale’s ten percent or more versus an IPA’s five to seven percent.”
“And the dry stout, is that what you’re making?
“No.”
She stared at his profile, but he’d lost himself in the notebook. “Are you gonna make me go find the great big book of beers back in my office so I can go through them all to make another guess on what kind of stout?”
He looked up, crossing his arms in front of his strong chest, his feet shoulder–width apart as if he were expecting a blow. “I’m making a hybrid of a dry stout and a Russian imperial stout.”
For most people, that wouldn’t be a revelation. But Sean wasn’t most people. For some reason she couldn’t quite grasp, he’d cracked open the door and was letting her in.
Natalie sank down onto the stool. “Go on.”
He let out a deep breath and took off his baseball hat before running his fingers through his thick hair. “The Russian is rich and complex, with fruity esters and roasted grains, hops, and a coffee– or chocolate–flavored malt.”
“Remember I’m still new. Fruity esters?”
He grabbed one of the books off the shelf and put it on the table between them. Opening it, he turned to the glossary. “Fruity esters. They’re the compounds that give many fruits their characteristic flavors. We get them in beer by choosing the correct yeast for the recipe. In a Russian imperial stout, the fruity esters take on a dark–fruit character. Think raisins, plums, or prunes.”
“So you want something that’s sweet and sour.”
He nodded, his gaze again dropping to her mouth. “Exactly.”
The way he looked at her when she was fully dressed made her knees buckle. If he gave her that look while they were both naked, she might just climax on the spot. This man was far too dangerous. “What about cherry?”
“That might work.” He stroked his beard, then grabbed a pencil and scrawled the word in the notebook. “I need to try that.”
Hesitating only for a moment, Natalie decided to take advantage of Sean’s unusually talkative mood. “So I love that we’re finally talking brewery business, but why are you telling me this now?”
His pencil stilled. “I wanted to get you out of your controlled comfort zone and show you the brewery from another perspective.” He laid it down on the table. “Plus, the more I talk, the less likely I am to do something stupid.”
“Talking a lot.” Natalie nudged him with her elbow. “That must feel strange.”
He smiled. “It does.”
Maybe she moved. Maybe Sean pulled her up from the stool. She couldn’t be sure, but suddenly they were hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder. A small touch—minor really—but her breath caught as her entire body went on hyper alert. The clean–soap smell of him. The way his breath hitched then sped up. The underlying strength that called out to her, even when she tried to block it.
Sean pivoted to face her, the lust rampaging through her reflected in his own brown eyes, and the world stopped moving.
A heated flush rose up in tandem with the loud thump–thump of her heart vibrating through her body and she turned her face away so he wouldn’t see. Every part of her tingled with anticipation of what would happen next. Not could. Would. She may be mentally denying what was going on between them, but her body sure as hell wasn’t.
Still, the battle warred inside her head. She gripped the table and kept her gaze forward, knowing if she even snuck a sideways glance she’d fall—hard and completely. “What kind of stupid things are you trying to avoid?”
Ever so lightly, he grasped her chin and turned her to face him. “This.”
His lips captured hers.
Soft and hard. Exhilarating and relaxing. Demanding and requesting. The kiss at his house had been an appetizer. This was the main course. She melted under this touch, her mouth opening for him. Not surrendering but returning his passion, matching his tongue stroke for stroke. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, pulling it taut then slowly loosening his hold.
Turning his attention to her neck, the dueling sensations of his soft lips and the scratch of his beard drove her nearly out of her mind. “And kissing me is stupid?”
He chuckled against her skin, the sensation tickling that magic spot where her neck met her shoulder. “Only if you’re worried about my sanity, because I can’t stop thinking about you as it is.”
Pushing her fingers through his thick hair, she arched her head back to give him better access to her throat. “I know the feeling.” Thoughts of him had haunted her since she’d returned to Salvation.
“Do you?” He teasingly nipped her collarbone before kissing it.
She shivered under his touch, desire dampening her panties and making her clench her thighs together in an attempt to find some relief. His devilish hands relaxed their grip on her hips and slid around to cup her ass, pulling her close. Thick, hard evidence of his desire pressed against her belly. God, she wanted this man, and not just to silent the stressful thoughts always swirling in her head. She wanted him, not just the divine moment of oblivion that blocked out everything else.
The realization scared her an
d brought some unwanted reality into the room. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Why?” He made quick work of the buttons on her petal–pink cashmere sweater and parted her cardigan. Sean gave a soft growl as he stared at her silver satin pushup bra that presented her boobs like an all–you–can–lick buffet. “Because I’m your employee?”
He licked his lips and slid his thumb across the satin covering her hard nipple.
“Yes,” she said, sighing. An answer to his question or a response to even the lightest of touches? Both.
“Easy fix.” He snapped the front closure of her bra and her tits tumbled out. “I quit.”
Bending forward, he lifted one heavy globe and took the hard nub into his hot mouth. Fire sizzled through her veins and it felt so good she couldn’t wait to burn.
“You can’t quit.” She reached down for the top button of his jeans and flicked it open. “We need you. I need you.”
He released her nipple and she groaned in frustration. Then he found the hem of her skirt and inched it higher and the soft groan that floated out of her mouth was for a whole other reason.
“Hire me back in about an hour or, better yet, a few days.”
The cool air caressed her upper thighs as he raised her skirt, but it wasn’t enough to relieve the molten heat engulfing her. “I like how you think.”
He trailed a hand up the inside of her leg, sending a wave of need crashing through her. “I promise, you’ll like other things even more.”
“You wouldn’t lie to a girl, would you?” She lowered his zipper and reached inside, wrapping her fingers around his hard girth.
“Never about this.” He stopped a few inches shy of the juncture of her thighs and looked down at her, exposed before him. “Oh God. Do you wear these every day?” He traced the top of her thigh–high tights, his calloused thumb occasionally straying off the material to caress her bare thigh.
“You don’t want to know the answer to that,” she teased as she stroked up and down his length. “Maybe we should just get this attraction out of our system.”
“You think then we can get back to normal after that?” He continued his upward exploration, pushing the center of her panties aside and sliding in first one and then a second finger.
The vibrations started in her thighs, expanding and growing with each in–and–out stroke. She squeezed her eyes shut to better concentrate on the feeling between her legs as he rolled his thumb over her clit, circling it in agonizingly pleasurable rotations.
“Yes. No.” She groaned. “I can’t think right now when you’re touching me.”
He laughed and increased the pressure, curling his fingers to rub against her G–spot. Rubbing. Twisting. Turning. “That means I’m doing it right.”
Colors—oranges, pinks, whites—appeared in the darkness behind her closed lids, and the vibrations grew until she became a live wire personified.
“God, yes.” She dropped her head onto his shoulder, the pleasure so great she couldn’t do anything but let go and enjoy the ride as her climax broke.
Watching Natalie fall apart around his fingers, her wetness making her soft folds slick, was the sexiest thing Sean had ever seen. Her eyes remained closed, and the tension normally lining the corners of her mouth had drained from her face. Slowly he eased his fingers from her, hating the loss of contact.
Her eyes fluttered open, a satisfied smile turning her luscious lips upward. “You’re a whole lot of trouble.”
Pride filled him. He’d put that soft look in her eye, the purr in her voice, and given her loose limbed ease. Now he understood why the first caveman had risked life and limb to take down a saber–toothed tiger. Hunger for food had nothing to do with it.
“You haven’t seen anything yet.”
She shivered against him. “Is that a threat or a promise?”
His dick twitched. “Both.”
Natalie shook out her hair and it fell in waves around her shoulders. “Normally—” she took a step back “—I’d love to chat, but I need you inside me.”
He almost came from her words alone. Direct and to the point, his efficiency queen got straight to it. His dick ached from the torment of not touching her. “There’s nothing I’d like more.”
The rest of the words died in his mouth as she unzipped her skirt and dropped it to the floor. She stepped out of it and stood, hands on her curvy hips, now wearing only her glasses, silver bra, panties, and those thigh–highs that were going to give him a heart attack.
She shot him a saucy grin and strutted away from him and across the room to the door. Watching her round ass jiggle with each step had him hard enough to poke a hole in steel.
The click of the lock boomed across the room.
Turning, she leaned her back against the door, her long legs shoulder–width apart. “You were saying?”
“God, you’re beautiful.” He meant it. He’d seen a lot of naked women in his life. There were some perks to being a Hollywood heartthrob, but none lit up a room like Natalie.
Confident and more than a little cheeky, she winked. “That’s what I thought.”
This time she treated him to the vision of her swaying hips and amazing tits as she sashayed back to him and dropped to her knees, taking his jeans and boxers down with her.
The first touch of her tongue eliminated any possibility of more talk. The softness of her lips around his dick had him forgetting his own name. By the time she made the first downward stroke with her mouth, taking him all in, the rest of the world ceased to exist.
He tangled his hands in her hair, the silken strands spilling over his fingers and pouring over his thighs. He’d fantasied about this moment so many times as he’d stroked himself to completion, but none of his imaginings could even be a celluloid replica of the real thing.
Her pink tongue swirled around his dick on an upward stroke and he almost nutted right then. “Babe, you gotta stop.”
Natalie’s mouth turned into a perfect pout before she puckered her lips and blew a cool breath against his rock–hard length. The sensation almost sent him over the edge.
He yanked her up, but she snuck her hands under his shirt and danced her fingers across his chest.
“Tell me you have a condom,” she said.
Yanking up his jeans enough to reach into his back pocket, he withdrew his wallet and removed a foil package. He rolled the condom on in record time.
“Sit down.” She nudged his shoulders until he sank to the seat and straddled him, lining him up with her soft folds. “You ready?”
The sight of her alone had his balls tightening. “I may not last.”
“That makes two of us.” She sank down, enveloping his dick in her warmth.
He groaned, the sweetness of reality almost more than he could stand.
Her back flexed under his fingertips as she rode him, swirling her hips in time with the rocking motion. Up, down, back and forth, she took him higher and higher. They moved together, matching each other stroke for stroke as their hushed moans filled the room. He clapped his hands on her hips, bringing her down with more force. She arched her back, changing the angle and allowing him to drive deeper, to fill her completely.
A soft mewling sound escaped her lips and her nails dug into his shoulders before she snapped forward as her second climax rocketed through her.
Looking up at Natalie, her hair falling around her shoulders in light–brown waves as she bit down on her bottom lip in ecstasy, the extent of her beauty—inside and out—made him breathless. Something shifted in him, and he realized two things. One, he wasn’t leaving Salvation. Two, this thing between them was far from over after this.
His balls tightened. “Natalie,” he groaned in a harsh whisper full of tormented bliss.
His vision went black and he surged inside her one last time before his orgasm shook him as hard as a hurricane.
“Oh. My. God.” Her chest heaved against him and she rested her head on his shoulder. “I am totally jellified.”
/>
“My apologies.” He twisted a strand of her long, loose hair around his finger and feathered the end across her still–hard nipple. It puckered tighter, and it was all he could do not to take her nipple into his mouth and go for round two, but the sounds of the brewery had begun to intrude into their cocoon.
Everyone knew not to bother him when he was in the reference room, but that didn’t mean it never happened. The last thing he wanted was for someone to walk in and see Natalie. He wouldn’t put her in that situation.
She stood up and grabbed her clothes from the floor.
In less time than it took for him to recover the bones in his body—minus the one between his legs—and pull up his jeans, she was back in buttoned–up mode, albeit with her hair in a crooked, messy knot on top of her head.
“Damn, you’re fast.”
She giggled and tucked a few stray hairs behind her ears. “I think you just experienced that for yourself.”
“Nah.” He lowered his lips to hers and put everything he didn’t know how to say into the brief kiss. “I saw a helluva lot more than that.”
“Thank God I remembered to lock the door or a lot more people could have seen more of me than needed.” She crossed the room and unlocked the door.
She’d barely finished the action when the door she was leaning against flew open, sending her sailing across the small room and against Sean’s chest. He clamped his arms around her, steadying her before she could fall.
The door smacked against the bookshelf and Hailey burst into the office. Her eyes went wide and her gaze ping–ponged from Sean to Natalie and back again. “Carl Brennan is in the parking lot. He’s drunk as a skunk and carrying a shotgun.”
Chapter Ten
Natalie tore out of the reference room at a full gallop, sprinting across the brewery floor and out into the tasting room. Almost every person who worked at the brewery stood with their noses pressed to the floor–to–ceiling front windows. She had to go up on her tiptoes to see over the crowd and spot Carl in the parking lot.
