by K. B. Jacobs
My gut clenched as he pushed faster, building toward a decadent gratification. My body gave up and an orgasm rolled through me, shaking my legs and leaving me in a state of total bliss. The man had skills.
But I wasn’t done. I needed to have all of him inside me.
I sat up, my dress bunched around my waist as I grabbed his jeans, flipping open the button. “Tell me you have a condom.”
Walsh pulled a square packet out of his pocket and dropped his pants to the floor. “I bought a whole box, just waiting to make good on my promise.”
“What promise?” I reached out and cupped his hard, pulsing bulge still trapped in his boxer briefs. My breath quickened.
“The promise to brand your pussy with my dick so you never forget it.”
I finished undressing him and salivated at the sight of his hard thick cock. My fingers itched to wrap it up, and my mouth watered with the need to suck him down, but Walsh cut me off, pushing me back on the desk.
“Not this time, Lake. I won’t last long enough for what your eyes tell me you want.” He slid the condom on and grabbed my ass, lifting my wet entrance to him. He paused with the tip gliding gently against my folds, teasing my clit one more time before sliding deep into me and nearly taking me over the edge with a single stroke.
“God, Lake,” Walsh grunted out as he pushed deeper inside me. His cock flexed as he held still, as if searching for control. “You feel too good. You’re so hot and tight. I’m not going to last long.”
He wasn’t the only one. I angled my hips higher in response, asking for more with my body, completely unable to form words. And Walsh didn’t disappoint. He sank strong fingers into the cheeks of my ass and pulled me to him with each thrust, pushing me to the border of pleasure and pain with every stroke.
Intensity built in my core, and I tightened around him, enhancing the sensations for both of us and sending us closer to the edge. My toes curled, and pulses of pleasure washed over me. Walsh tilted his head back and grunted each time his hips came up to meet mine.
“Too good.” Walsh gasped as his cock flexed and surged. One hand angled between us, and he slid fingers across my wet clit to take me from the cusp of another orgasm straight into the heart of it.
I cried out an incomprehensible string of words as a wave of pleasure rolled through me, the zings of sensation radiating out from my core as my internal muscles clasped at Walsh’s hard pulsing length.
Walsh gave a final thrust as we came together.
His head dipped down toward me until our foreheads met, both of us gasping for air while our bodies spasmed through their last moments of gratification.
“You were right,” I whispered. “I needed that.”
Walsh smiled, his green eyes twinkling. “It’s still early, so just let me know when you need it again.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Walsh
When I got back to the hotel that night, I went straight to the bar without any thought.
The sex with Lake had been better than good. It had blown my mind. But that didn’t explain why I’d offered to partner up with her to buy the brewery instead of GSC buying it from Emily. Could I blame my insanity on the lack of blood flow to my brain? Probably not since the offer had happened before the sex.
The thing was...I still wanted her to take me up on my offer, no matter how that would completely and totally screw me over. Not only at GSC, where my job was to buy the brewery for the charity, but also with Lake. There was no way we could go into a partnership like that without my real name and lies coming to light. What the hell was I doing?
“What’ll you have?” Sawyer asked, examining me closely.
“Smooth Moves. Thanks.”
He poured me a mug and then set it in front of me. “Why the hell do you have that face?”
I just raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for an explanation of what the fuck that question meant.
He shook his head like I should know exactly what he was talking about. “From all accounts you got laid today, but instead of looking happy about it, you look like someone ran over your dog.”
My eyes widened in surprise. “How the fuck do you know if I got laid today or not?”
He rolled his eyes. “There’s a certain looseness to your hips when you walk. Every bartender can spot it.”
For a moment, I sat with my mouth open in total disbelief. “Are you shitting me?” Did I really walk differently after sex? Yeah, I was more relaxed physically, but my head was such a mess, how could that even show?
Sawyer looked at me dead-on while he shook his head.
Well, fuck me. That was a surprise.
Then he burst out laughing. “Naw, man. You should see your face.”
I scowled at him in irritation.
“Seriously, you’re grumpy tonight,” he huffed. “Being grumpy after getting laid goes against the man code.”
“Using the word grumpy goes against the man code. But how the fuck did you know anything?”
He gave me an easy grin. “Eric, the bartender over at Naked Brews, is my cousin.”
“And what? You both had your hair done at the beauty salon this afternoon so you could trade gossip?”
He shrugged. “It’s a small town. We take our entertainment where we can get it.”
“That’s kind of sad.”
“Tell me about it, but we have the best outdoor playground around, and I wouldn’t trade that for big city excitement any day.” He waved his hand toward the ski mountain.
He glanced up with a question in his eyes. “Where are you from, Walsh Thorne, when you aren’t romancing and sweeping our young Lake O’Brien off her feet? You’ve never mentioned it.”
And there it was...that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that rolled every time I was faced with the width and breadth of my lies. There were so many of them. “I live in Denver right now.” In the pool house of the man I was impersonating here. I was such a fraud on every level.
“Denver? So that’s close enough to come visit on occasion, since I’m assuming you’re not moving into the Astonian permanently.”
“No.” I shook my head and chuckled, but it felt brittle, fake. Just like me. “I’ll be going home once this deal is done, in just a few weeks.”
And then it hit me. I didn’t want to go back to Denver. I wanted to stay here with Lake, truly become her partner in every possible way. I knew that was stupidly fast, but I’d never felt this way about a girl. I was completely and totally falling for her. But I couldn’t even consider that future until Lake knew the full truth about me. I had to tell her.
I glanced up at Sawyer again. He was watching me and not even trying to hide his curiosity. I could see how he’d use the tourists as his entertainment.
It was surprisingly quiet in the bar, so I decided to use him for what he was best at...an ear and advice.
“So, I’m guessing you see lots of drama at a place like this.”
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “You can definitely tell when a full moon is coming. Some nights it’s crazy. “
“Does that ever help you with your own love life?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I can probably read body language a little better than most. But no, with my crazy hours and mouth, I still manage to tick off most my boyfriends enough that they eventually dump me.”
I choked on the beer I’d been trying to swallow. “Boyfriend?”
“Yeah.” He nodded and gave me a hard look. “You have a problem with that?”
“No, geez, not at all, but I’m just surprised. I thought you said you wanted to date Lake in high school?”
He shrugged. “It was high school. I had no idea what I wanted and was in deep denial. But let me tell you, that girl was ticked when I finally confessed my crush on the quarterback.”
“Why?”
“Lake can forgive almost everything—except lies. If you deliberately lie to her, she will cut you completely out of her life.”
The blood drained out of my face,
but Sawyer didn’t notice.
“She forgave me, though, especially when it was obvious that I was just as confused about it all as anyone. It just took her a couple of years to get over it. We’re good now, and she jokes about it, saying it’s good that we didn’t go out. Otherwise, the town might have blamed her for turning one of their most gorgeous sons off of women.” Sawyer fluttered his eyelashes at me flirtatiously.
I just shook my head and managed to hide the fear about my lies swallowing me whole.
“Okay,” he said. “You were leading up to something. What can Dr. Sawyer do for you to aid in your love life?”
I shook my head. “That part of my life is doomed, no matter what.”
Sawyer frowned. “I like you, Walsh, but I also really love Lake. I don’t want to see her get hurt. She doesn’t open herself up to many people. Somehow, I think you’ve made it past the walls around her heart, which means she’s vulnerable to you. Don’t ruin that. Whatever is going on in your head, tell her. Lake is one of the most upfront people I know. Yes, she has a hell of a whiplash temper to go with that, and she doesn’t think through her first reaction a lot of the time. But if you earn her love and loyalty, you will never find a better woman to have by your side.”
Fuck, I wanted that. But how could I confess all without losing her trust and everything else I wanted from her along with it? I couldn’t divulge Damian’s secrets without his approval, but I’d also have to divulge my own. I’d have to tell Lake the guy she just slept with wasn’t a hero billionaire. Just a washed-up con man who spent his life pretending to be someone else. How could I ask Damian to expose himself if I wasn’t willing to do the same? So many secrets and lies.
I was falling for her. This might be the one time my lies were going to cost me everything, but I owed it to her to tell her the truth...all of it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Lake
It had started out as such a great day. Walsh had stopped by the brewery before the lunch rush and rocked my world with a hot, make-out session. Though after the goofy grins Eric gave us last time, there would be no more dirty deeds in the office.
The competition director at Rocky Mountain Brewer’s Choice called to inform me Hops on Top passed through the first round of judging, and I sent off another set of bottles for the finals.
Even Harlan had been in a good mood. Until he walked in and announced we were screwed.
“I don’t understand how we ran out of Cascade hops,” I said after he explained the issue. “They’re part of the standing order—twice a week like clockwork. How come no one noticed we were short?”
Harlan stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “We weren’t short; they just sent Perle hops instead, and those are way too acidic to use in the Hops on Top. Plus, we’ll miss the citrus flavor.”
“Who checked the order in?” My pulse ratcheted up another level. Too many mistakes were happening around here, and if someone had to lose their job to clean it up, so be it.
“We were shorthanded, so Warner helped me with the offload that day.” He held his hand up to stop my next string of swear words. “But I checked the shipping order, and it has Perle listed, so this wasn’t his mistake.” He handed over our copy of the shipping list, and Perle was listed clear as day with no sign of Cascade.
“Someone at the supply house screwed up.” I took a settling breath. At least no one would be fired today. Not here anyway. “I’ll get this cleared up and make sure they double our Cascade on the next shipment. But this is going to throw off our delivery schedule. Alex just got us into a hot new bar in Denver, and they’ve got their first delivery scheduled soon. Once the new order of Cascade gets in, we’re going to have to pull some serious overtime to catch up.”
Harlan grimaced, but he nodded and headed back to the brewery. We already brewed ten hours a day. To fix this mistake and hit our delivery dates, we’d have to pull a couple twenty-four hour shifts. My dad’s right hand man was pushing sixty, and it was pushing back. It would be hell, but first I needed to get this order figured out.
I dropped into my chair and pulled over the ancient desk phone. It had been a while since I’d talked to Stan at Rocky Suppliers, and he was a good guy, but this was not going to be a pleasant call. Someone there had royally screwed the pooch, and it was going to cost me in labor expenses and lost time. I didn’t have extra to spare of either.
“Rocky Suppliers, Stan here.”
“Stan. Lake O’Brien over at Naked Brews.” Stan was an older guy, about the same age my dad had been. As long as we’d been running the brewery, he’d been my go-to supplier, and the voice on the other end offering advice about what barleys were good from one year to another and where I should experiment with new hop strains.
“Lake,” the friendly voice practically shouted through the phone line. “It’s been a dog’s year since I talked to you. I was real sorry to hear about your old man. How are you holding up?”
“It’s been tough, but we’re doing okay.” I cleared my head of thoughts of Dad and focused on the issue at hand. “Listen, we’ve got a problem.”
“What can I do for ya?”
I smoothed the crinkled shipping order out on the desk. “Someone screwed up my standing order. We got a shipment of Perle hops instead of our usual Cascade. We had a fill-in handling the delivery, so no one noticed the switch until we ran out. I love you guys over there, but this is really screwing my production line.”
“Geez, Lake, I don’t know how that happened. Let me pull up your order.” The tapping of computer keys flowed through the phone line while Stan got to the bottom of the fuck up. “Hmmm...I’m showing that Cascade is your usual order, but last week we got a change order to switch it out to Perle.”
“What?” My voice caught in my throat. “Who sent that in?”
There was a pause of silence before Stan answered me softly. “You did.”
“I...what?” I stood up and shoved the chair back with my foot. “I never sent in a change order.”
“I’ve got the form right here. I can email it over to you.” Stan’s voice was firm, but there was a hint of pity that lit up my gut. I couldn’t take any more pity.
“Yes, please send it over.” My words were clipped and short. “And please put in a rush order for double our usual amount of Cascade. I’ll send over a new change order today to get our standing delivery fixed.”
“I can do that,” Stan said with some hesitation. “Listen, Lake, with Pat dying so suddenly, taking over the brewery has probably been a struggle. If you ever want to bring on someone to help, let me know. I can find you a guy, no problem.”
I bit back the ugly response I wanted to shout through the phone. Stan was only trying to help, and he wasn’t far from the truth. So far, I’d created one disaster after another around here. “Thanks, Stan. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Okay. Take care, sweetheart.”
I hung up, and seconds later, an email notification popped up on the computer. Stan had sent over a copy of the change order. There, clear as day, was my signature at the bottom. How in the hell had I fucked up so royally?
I thought back over the last few weeks, and it wasn’t hard to imagine. I’d been so distracted by GSC, the Birth Vessel, and Walsh. Especially Walsh. It would be easy to blame him, but his fine ass hadn’t gripped a pen between the cheeks and signed the change order.
That was all me. Maybe I was the one who should be fired.
What I needed was a hot bath, a plate of lasagna from The Treehouse, and a case of beer. Or a good session of naked time with the man with the fine ass. That would make me feel better. My gut clenched at the thought of him plunging his gorgeous cock into me. Branding me, he’d called it. And he had. Just the image of him between my legs made me wet.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Walsh bought out the brewery. He couldn’t screw it up more than I had already. And if I stayed on to brew, I wouldn’t have to leave Aspenridge or his talented dick. A shiver ran up my s
pine. While I liked what he did to me with his body, that wasn’t all he was. He challenged me, made me want to achieve more, be more...with him. Was I really considering something long-term with Walsh?
Fuck me, I was.
Somehow I’d gone from wanting to rip his head off to wanting to rip his clothes off. But it had become even more than that.
It would be easy. I could stop stressing about contests, and money, and making so many mistakes. Just walk away and let Walsh buy the brewery. Then he could run the place while I focused on the things that made me happy—brewing beer and Walsh. If I closed my eyes up tight, I could see it.
But as easy as that would be, it left a Pat-O’Brien-shaped hole in my heart. Could I really let someone else have Naked Brews? Even if that someone was Walsh Thorne?
Fuck.
I was falling for him and tired of trying to fight it, but it just might cost me everything. Losing the brewery would be like losing my dad all over again. I wasn’t sure I’d survive it this time.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Walsh
I juggled the paper carryout bags, drink holders, and boxes as I opened the front door to Naked Brews, hoping this was the one time the roof would give me clemency and not dump a ton of snow on my head.
When I made it through the doorway dry, I blew out a breath of relief. Even knowing how the roof dumped, I’d still been hit nearly every time I walked inside. It was ridiculous that they hadn’t figured out a solution to that problem yet. Regardless of how the ownership of the brewery turned out, I would have that fixed before I left Aspenridge.
But until then, I was doing my level best to not think about when that would happen.
Inside the door, I was met with quiet and dark, but that wasn’t too surprising since it was five thirty in the morning, and the pub was closed that time of day. Hell, the whole place should be closed, but the entire Naked Brews team had been pulling twenty-four-hour shifts for three days, playing catch up after the hops mishap.
