“You’re . . . different. This is a side of you I’ve never seen before. You actually look . . . happy.”
He laughs—a deep baritone sound that radiates from his big chest. He closes the door behind me then presses my back against it. Moving in close to my ear, he whispers, “You can’t cum as many times as you caused me to and not be happy.” His hot breath blows against my ear, and his words turn me on to the point it feels like a hot flood between my legs.
I swallow, yearning growing thick in my throat. I look up at his eyes again and pull my bottom lip between my teeth, biting down.
His hand rises, resting beneath my chin. He uses his thumb to pull my lip free. “Bite mine instead,” he says, moving in and pressing his lips to mine. His tongue slips past my lips and into my mouth, softly and slowly dancing with my own.
I enjoy the feeling of his lips pressed against mine for a moment, then place my hand against his chest and gently push him away. He’s wearing a shocked expression on his face.
“We’re in public, remember?”
He raises an invisible wall between us. “Right. Let’s go inside.”
We walk across the parking lot and into the building. The usual lady is sitting behind the counter, but this time, Harrison is leaning over it, talking with her. When the door opens, he looks at us from over his shoulder. His brows pull together and the smile falls from his face, turning into a straight line that causes wrinkles to form around his mouth and eyes.
“Mr. Slade. Ms. Teller,” he addresses us.
“Mornin’,” Drake replies, walking straight past them as if we hadn’t been caught messing around only hours ago. We quickly step into the elevator and Drake pushes the CLOSE DOOR button over and over until the doors shut. He lets out a long breath. “That was a close one.”
“I thought you said he wouldn’t say anything?”
“He won’t, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t ambush us in the elevator.” The doors open and we step into his office. “I just need to get my security key.”
“You need a key?” I ask, leaning against the wall and crossing my arms over my chest as I shoot him a look.
He opens his desk drawer and pulls out a key card dangling from a lanyard. “This key opens every door in the brewery.”
“Oh, big shot, huh?” I tease.
He chuckles as he starts stalking toward me. He reaches for me when he’s only a foot away, hands moving toward my hips. I won’t lie: since the moment I stepped foot into his office, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him bending me over that desk of his.
The second he pulls me to his chest, the elevator dings and the doors open. Harrison walks in, giving us both a grave look. His eyes take us in. His hand is moving up and down his jaw, rubbing over the light gray scruff. “I think we all must have gotten our wires crossed,” he says, slowly walking toward us. “When I said, don’t touch the new lawyer, you took that as treat her as my own personal plaything, yes?” he asks, looking up at Drake.
Drake takes a deep breath, and his hands fall from my hips as he turns to face Harrison head-on. “Harrison, it’s not that big a deal,” he starts, but Harrison cuts him off by looking at me.
“And when I said to you, he’s been hurt; don’t mess with his emotions, you took that as let’s see how far I can push him before he breaks completely?”
“Harrison!” Drake says, a little louder.
Harrison jerks his eyes toward Drake. “You know what? You’re both adults. Do what you want. But don’t come crying to me when she leaves you behind.” He points his finger in Drake’s direction before heading for the elevator. He pushes the button, clasps his hands in front of him, and waits patiently for the doors to close.
Drake turns back to me. “Where were we?” he asks, moving closer, but I step back.
“Drake! What the hell was that?” I ask, motioning toward the elevator.
He waves his hand through the air, dismissing Harrison. “Don’t worry about him. He likes to act like my father even though I’ve told him to stop. I already have an asshole for a dad; I don’t need another one.” He tries pulling me to him one more time, but I look up and shake my head no.
“Let’s get to the tour before he comes back up to scream at us some more.”
Drake’s smile falls but he nods his head. “All right. Let’s go.”
As we step into the elevator, I can’t help but feel hopeless. Since last night, Drake and I have been lost in our own little world, pretending that everything’s fine and there’s no end to this. But Harrison’s reaction quickly brought me back to the real world—a world where I have to leave in a year. What we’re doing will end. How long can we go on pretending we’re just having fun?
Drake takes me through all the different parts of the brewery. He shows me where the beer is made, bottled, and packaged to ship out. He explains how things work and why things are done the way they are. It’s all interesting and very detailed. I try paying attention, but I end up daydreaming as I watch him. The way he moves, the way his muscles tighten under his shirt, the way his eyes light up and his smile breaks free, it’s all breathtaking. I’ve never seen a man more captivating than Drake. It interests me and scares me at the same time.
The tour takes most of the day. As we’re heading out, he decides to show me the newest whiskey line—the whole reason I’m here. He leads me down a long, white hallway and pushes through a set of thick metal doors. Past those doors is a big warehouse. It’s filled with barrels of whiskey. There are rows and rows of high shelving, all covered in whiskey.
My eyes grow in size as I take it all in. “Wow!” I say, spinning around to check out every direction. “I’m not a whiskey drinker, but if I were, this would be heaven.”
He laughs. “It’s pretty close to heaven. Come on. Let’s sample the product.” He takes my hand in his and drags me through the aisles. After several twists and turns, we come to a cleared-out section of floor. There’s a barrel of whiskey in the center with a few chairs positioned around it.
“Tasted the product before, have you?” I ask, flopping down in one of the chairs.
“Hell, sweetheart, can’t sell something if you don’t know its worth.” He grabs a full bottle and plops down across from me. “Trust me, it’s worth it.” He offers up one of his panty-dropping smiles that causes his dark eyes to gleam with amusement. He uncaps the bottle and takes a pull. Swallowing it down, he lets out a long breath and shakes his head. “Whoa, that’s good stuff. Go on, try it.” He leans over with the bottle in his outstretched hand.
Due to my recent hangover, I’m not excited about the thought of being drunk again, but something in his eyes—in the way he’s smiling and moving—has me wanting to go there again, despite the sickness I know will follow.
I reach out and take the bottle. Tipping it up, it pours into my dry mouth, stinging and burning as it makes its way down my parched throat. I gasp and my hand flies to my neck, hoping to soothe the burn. It doesn’t help.
He laughs. “Yeah, it’ll go numb soon.” He takes the bottle when I pass it back. He takes a sip, but doesn’t bother returning it to me. It’s like he knows I’m not ready. “So, what do ya think?”
I nod as I glance around the room. “Pretty cool. I’ve never taken a tour of a brewery before. Do I get to see how the whiskey’s made?”
He smirks. “Sorry, honey, that one’s a secret,” he says in his country drawl. “If I told ya, I’d have to kill ya and . . . well, you’re too pretty to kill.”
I smile, rolling my eyes and shaking my head. “So, this is how you get to spend your days? Lounging around in a hidden corner of the building, getting drunk as a skunk?”
“I wish,” he says, taking a sip and passing the bottle back to me. “Most days are spent stuck at my desk, signing papers, and managing trivial tasks that are supposed to make me feel important. The company doesn’t really need me here. It basically runs itself.”
“Then why stay?” I ask, feeling a little bold.
/> He sits back in his chair. “What else am I supposed to do?”
I take two more sips and hand over the bottle. The warmth has caused my throat, mouth, and lips to go a little numb, and there’s a heat spreading through me. “Go exploring. Find what makes you happy.”
“I already know what makes me happy.”
“What’s that?”
He motions around the brewery. “Being here, taking care of the business that’s been passed from generation to generation longer than I’ve been alive. I’m a part of something here. And when I’m not here, I’m at home—a house I basically rebuilt from the ground up. I’m working on the barn now. When that’s done, I’m thinking about turning the loft into an apartment—or hell, maybe I’ll make it my own personal bar.” He shrugs. “Either way, I still have work to do around here.” He takes a swig and passes it back.
I take a drink—a bigger one this time, now that the stuff is starting to grow on me. “There’s more to life than work, you know.” Instead of passing the bottle back, I stand up, walking over to him with it in my hands. “You need to get out of here, have fun, make memories.” As I straddle him, I set the bottle on the barrel that had been separating us.
“Will you come with me?” he asks, placing his hands on my thighs as his dark, lust-filled eyes meet mine.
“Where we going?” I ask in a whisper, suddenly losing my voice from seeing the passion burning bright in his irises.
“Wherever you want: Fiji, France, Australia. You pick.” The corners of his mouth turn upward, but not quite into a smile.
“Hmm, Fiji does sound nice, and I’ve heard it’s beautiful there this time of year,” I joke, slowly moving in to press my lips to his.
The moment my warm mouth touches his, his hands on my thighs squeeze. He deepens the kiss like he’ll never get enough. His tongue swirls around mine, our lips moving perfectly in sync. His hands start moving slowly up and down my thighs, squeezing and caressing. It almost feels like he’s trying to hold himself back.
I break the kiss. Staring deeply into his eyes only inches away, I whisper, “Don’t hold back with me, Drake.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, his lips are back on mine, doubling the pace from before. His hands move to my ass and he picks me up against him, causing a little yelp to escape. Through my hooded eyes, I watch as he closes the space between us, his lips finding mine once again.
Ten
Drake
I’VE held back with damn near everything in my life. I held back the love I felt for Casey. I held back the pain of losing her. I held back the agony of having to live every damn day alone. So when those words leave Celeste’s lips, don’t hold back with me, it’s like I’ve finally been given permission to let go—let it all go. I never realized how much I needed those words.
Without thinking, I pull her against me and press my mouth to hers—tasting, teasing, memorizing. The little whimper that escapes causes my dick to jump with excitement. The little sounds she makes could bring me to my knees. I’ve never in my life heard anything more beautiful.
Realizing this fact causes panic to flare up in my chest, but I forget all about it when she threads her fingers through my hair and pulls me closer, as if I could get any closer. My hands find her ass and I pick her up against me as she wraps her long legs around my hips. Given that we’re in the brewery’s warehouse, there aren’t a lot of options, so I set her down on a barrel of whiskey. Her hands immediately start pulling at my shirt, wanting it gone now. I break our kiss for a moment, but only long enough to pull it over my head and sling it to the floor at my feet.
The moment my lips are against hers again, I work on removing her clothes. The barrel is a little too high, so I pick her up and hold her against me as I move us to the nearest wall. Pressing her back to it, I work my jeans over my hips, freeing myself. The only thing I can think of is how badly I need to be inside her. I never had this urge with Casey. I never felt like things would be okay as long as I was in her, but with Celeste, I know everything will fall away the moment I bury myself deep inside.
I position myself at her entrance and push forward, sliding into home. And that’s exactly how she feels—like home. Her warmth and tightness welcome me, and her muscles squeeze around me like a firm handshake. I’m overwhelmed by the intense feelings building inside me. I have no choice but to pause for a moment. She’s whimpering and panting against me, begging me to move, but I can’t. I know if I start, it’ll be over too soon.
“God, Celeste, we fit so perfectly,” I whisper against her lips.
“Please move, Drake,” she begs again. I can feel her muscles squeezing around me, getting impatient.
Finally, I pull out, only to bury myself again. My eyes open, locking on hers as I move in and out of her. Something about this feels personal, intimate—something completely wrong given what we’re doing and how we’re doing it. We basically agreed to be fuck buddies, but dammit, I’m falling in love and I’m falling harder than I ever imagined I could.
Turning off my emotions, I close my eyes and work until we’re each shuddering with release. I rest my head in the crook of her neck, allowing us both to calm our breathing. Finally, I remove myself from her and place her gently on her wobbly legs. I bend down, picking up her clothes and handing them to her as I zip up my pants. Neither of us talks as we get our clothes back in place.
“Never been on a tour like that before,” she says, voice shaking as a giggle escapes.
I laugh and hold out my hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
She places her hand in mine and I lead her out of the warehouse and into the elevator.
We’ve been together almost 24 hours straight, and I feel like I need to put some space between us. We load into my truck and drive quietly back to her car. I pull up next to it and put the truck in park. I look over at her and she’s sitting stock-still, unsure of how to act or what to do.
“I’ll be home later if you want to come over,” I offer, not exactly sure of how to take this next step.
She smiles and nods. “I think I’m going to head out to the Joneses and see if I can get them to sign some paperwork. I’ll let you know how it goes.” Without another word, she climbs out of the truck, slamming the door behind her. Instead of climbing into her car, I watch as she enters the building, closing the door between us.
With Celeste no longer in my line of sight, I shift into reverse and back out, heading for home.
When I pull into the driveway, I find my brother’s truck waiting for me. I climb out and walk to the open barn doors, finding him inside with a beer.
“What’s up, brother?” I ask, leaning against the old workbench.
He shrugs. “Where ya been?”
“At the brewery. You been here long?” I grab a beer out of the six-pack sitting next to him.
“Nah, not too long, anyway. Since when did you start working on Saturdays?”
“I wasn’t working; I was giving my new lawyer a tour of the facility.” I pop the top on the beer and take a swig.
“New lawyer, huh? This isn’t the same woman you’ve started something up with, is it?”
My mouth drops open. “How the hell?”
He laughs. “Harrison was venting to Dad—something about watching you make all the same mistakes he watched Dad make, whatever that means. So, is she hot?”
It occurs to me that Colton doesn’t know about the mysterious half-brother or half-sister we have out there. I debate telling him before I have anything concrete. “She’s easy to look at,” I say around a smile I can’t contain.
“Yeah?” he asks with a grin and a raise of his brow. “She’s not some prissy city girl, now, is she?”
That causes me to laugh a little harder. “She’s from Los Angeles, but she’s super-chill and down-to-earth. To be honest, I have no idea what the hell she sees in me.”
“How old is she?” he asks, taking a sip of his beer.
“Late 20s,” I answer, causing him to gasp and t
hen laugh. “Plus she’s tall and has legs that go on for days. She’s got this long, blonde hair and these amazing green eyes that somehow pull me in and keep me prisoner. She’s . . .” I let my sentence break off as I sigh.
“Man, you just met her, right?”
“Yeah, she just moved to town. Why?” I ask.
He shrugs one shoulder. “The way you’re talking about her sounds like you’re falling for her. But I know my brother, and he doesn’t do things like that, especially after only knowing the woman a short time.”
I scoff and wave a hand in his direction. “We’re just messing around and having a good time,” I tell him, knowing that in reality, he isn’t far off. “So, what brought you out today?” I ask, needing to change the subject.
He hops up and pulls a white envelope from his back pocket, handing it over.
“What’s this?” I ask, reaching out and taking it.
“Open it.”
I open the ripped envelope and take out a single piece of paper. Unfolding it, I read the letter.
* * *
Your brother didn’t take my letter very seriously. Maybe you will—I strongly urge you to. Your father disowned me before I was even born. I only want what I’m entitled to. I suggest calling a lawyer to hand out shares equally. I’d hate for this to have to go the hard way.
Signed,
Your Loving Brother
* * *
“What the fuck is this shit?” he asks when I let my arm holding the letter fall.
I fold up the paper and stuff it back into the envelope. “I got a letter the other day. Inside was a picture of Dad. He had a woman in his lap. After doing some digging, I found out that Dad had an affair. He broke it off and the woman was so upset, she left town. Dad gave her money, feeling guilty or whatever. Apparently, the woman was pregnant. Dad owned up to the affair but still claims there’s no possible way a child was conceived. But since then, I’ve had Harrison on it, doing some digging and trying to find out the truth.”
The Slade Brothers: A Complete Small Town Contemporary Romance Collection Page 14
