Breezy

by Kelsie Rae

  I want this guy so bad. It’s like he’s an irritating itch that I really, really want to scratch. But he’s tied my hands behind my back, preventing me from going to town on that annoying little bugger.

  The big jerk.

  His husky voice tickles my ear, bringing me back to the present. “See that the hammer is back? That means it’s pre-cocked.”

  My cheeks are burning as I bite my tongue and try to keep my 12-year-old sense of humor in check.

  “Does that make sense?” Derrick asks kindly. He’s completely oblivious to my inner battle with my self control.

  Keep it together, Breezy.

  I bite my lip, trying to contain my laughter before verifying. “So you’re saying, all I need to do is slide it in to pre-cock it?” I can’t help but emphasize the last bit of the sentence as a grin tugs at my mouth. I turn my head slightly, hoping to catch a glimpse of Derrick’s reaction, praying he finds me as funny as I do. My lips almost brush his before he bursts out laughing. His breath puffs against my face and causes my flyaways to plume.

  “Did you just make a dirty joke, Bree?” he huffs out, trying to contain his laughter.

  I join in, ecstatic that I finally get to see this carefree side of him again. I haven’t really seen him be playful since that first day in the restaurant and it’s… refreshing. I like it. A lot.

  “I’m gonna have to report this to HR.” He jokes, causing me to giggle like some lovesick school girl.

  “Well, Kathy’s really busy at work and doesn’t usually handle those kinds of things, but you’re welcome to write your concerns to her assistant. I’ve heard she’s very accommodating.” I’m grinning from ear to ear as Derrick assesses me from head to toe. His eyes seem to linger on my lips, but maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part.

  He grabs my shoulders softly and turns me toward the paper target across from us, his large frame towering over my smaller one. My back is to his chest. I assume he’s done flirting with me and is trying to bring my attention back to our current activity.

  “I’ll bet she is,” he mumbles under his breath as he goes to grab the gun.

  I’m sure that last comment wasn’t meant for my ears, and in all honesty, I’m surprised I even heard him through the ear plugs. But I’m really glad I did.

  Our close proximity makes me feel like a delicate little flower with an immovable rock protecting me from the wind. Like I’m grounded for the first time in my life.

  Smirking, I peek up at him through my thick lashes, waiting for him to give me further instruction.

  “Do you know how to hold a gun?” he inquires kindly.

  I shake my head. “Not really.”

  “OK then.” He takes my smaller hand in his large one and places the pre-cocked gun back into my hand, making sure I hold it firmly.

  After my fingers are where they’re supposed to be, with the exception of my finger on the trigger of course, Derrick stretches my arms out in front of me.

  “Keep your elbows locked, and your wrists straight. You don’t want to have a limp hold, or the kickback can cause the gun to jam.”

  I nod, attempting to pay attention when really all I can focus on is the heat seeping into my back from his close proximity.

  Derrick places his hands on my hips, pulling them closer to him so that I’m standing up straight instead of leaning backwards. “You need to keep your chest forward. Lean into the shot. Don’t lean back.”

  My head bounces in acknowledgement, while my knees wobble from having Derrick so. Damn. Close.

  “Good. Also, you need to spread your feet apart. Make sure you have a wide stance.” He places one foot between mine and proceeds to make me step them apart, causing tingles to race down my spine. I shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as I am. His hands are still firmly grasping my hips, and I’m having a ridiculously difficult time concentrating on the firearm in my sweaty palms. I must’ve been hit by a stray bullet in the last thirty seconds, because I’ve died and gone to heaven… or hell. Take your pick.

  I swallow thickly, needing a big glass of water to cool down the inferno blasting in my lower belly.

  Is it hot in here?

  Trying to fight the blush from creeping into my cheeks, I’m afraid Derrick will be able to read the dirty thoughts running through my head.

  Who knew shooting a gun could be so freaking sexual?

  Derrick leans down, totally popping my personal bubble, and whispers in my ear, his lips brushing my sensitive skin. “Make sure you keep both eyes open, line up the red dot with the target, and slowly squeeze the trigger.”

  Licking my lips, I dig deep and muster up the courage to turn my head toward Derrick. I know how close we are to each other, and I know that by turning, I would likely be lining up his perfect lips with my own.

  Sneaky? Maybe a little. But a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

  Unfortunately, by the time I finally make the tiny movement, Derrick jerks away from me and casually walks over to Jude. He’s leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, and he’s acting like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like he isn’t burning up inside. Like the last five minutes were literally a simple tutorial on how to shoot a gun. Like the moment I’ll be replaying in my head for the foreseeable future wasn’t even a tiny blip on his radar. Like it meant nothing at all.

  Bastard.

  Letting the burn that had started out as lust quickly turn to anger, I turn back to the target, plant my feet, straighten my arms, and squeeze the crap out of the trigger. I take my anger and disappointment out on that poor scrap of paper like my life depends on it and find a sick satisfaction with how easily the bullet rips through the thin white sheet.

  I may not have hit the bullseye by any means, but I’m still feeling like a total badass.

  While continuing to stare at my target, I lower the gun to my side and remove my finger from the trigger. A hand gently touches my lower back before sliding to my waist and turning me slowly.

  Jude’s grin is firmly in place, causing my scowl to melt away almost instantly. If Jude’s satisfied, then it must not have gone as badly as I had thought.

  “I’m going to kiss you now, so act like you enjoy it, and please don’t hit me.” He winks before leaning in and placing his lips on my own.

  It’s a good kiss. I’m not gonna lie.

  Jude knows what he’s doing and would make any other girl on the planet swoon from his expertise.

  Unfortunately, Jude is quickly turning in to more of a brother figure, so all I want to do is shove the guy away and knee him in the balls.

  Thankfully, I remember what he said right before leaning in and put my acting skills to good use.

  I run my fingers through his hair, pulling him toward me, and tilt my head up as if it’s the best damn kiss I’ve ever had.

  Jude’s lips stretch into a grin mid-kiss, and I can’t help but crack up as well, effectively breaking us apart.

  Throwing my head back in laughter, Jude takes advantage and blows a raspberry on my exposed neck, causing me to squeal and push him away playfully. His glasses are askew on his handsome face.

  I try to catch my breath before sneaking a glance at Derrick. His arms are crossed over his broad chest, his spine is ramrod straight, and his eyes are burning a hole through me. He’s seething, the anger radiating off him in waves.

  I continue to hold his glare, daring him to make a comment when I would’ve happily been kissing him ten minutes ago... if he had the balls to let me.

  He’s not stupid, and it’s not like I haven’t made it known I’m attracted to him. He knows what I want. Who I want.

  He just needs to grow a pair, let the stupid no-fraternization rule go, and make a freaking move.

  Jude blocks my view of the angry Viking behind him with his tall swimmer’s body.

  “Let it go, love. The wanker sees the mistake he made and will be beating himself up for the remainder of the evening.” He leans closer. “Now, you need to go ov
er there, load another clip, and continue to practice your shooting skills until it’s time for our date. He’s playing into your dainty little hands perfectly. No need to rush things by castrating the poor sod.” He kisses my cheek then turns toward the wall where Derrick had been standing only a moment before.

  I look around the room, trying to find him while fighting the guilt of kissing another guy when he’s the only one I want.

  Dammit!

  He must’ve left during my heart-to-heart with Jude.

  Jude nudges me playfully before wrapping me in a friendly hug. “Don’t worry about it, Bree. I’ll be seeing him tomorrow to talk about how amazing you are, and you’ll be seeing him Monday. He just needs a little time to come to his senses and realize that if he doesn’t get his shite together, he’s going to let the girl of his dreams slip right through his fingers.”

  I nod my head, silently agreeing with Jude’s statement.

  He’s right. Derrick needs to figure out if I’m worth the risks he’s so worried about taking. If I’m not, there are plenty of other fish in the sea.

  I just need to keep telling myself that.

  Derrick

  I feel like I was just sucker punched in the gut, my lungs refusing to cooperate properly. I’m shocked at the physical response I felt when seeing Bree kiss Jude.

  I could’ve sworn she was going to kiss me earlier, but I backed off too quickly to find out. I’m surprised I restrained myself, in all honesty. I was this close to throwing her over my shoulder, dragging her to the nearest cave, and having my way with her.

  What also surprises me is the guilt I’m feeling about rejecting her. I don’t owe her anything, but I can’t help but feel like I hurt her feelings by turning away instead of giving in to my own instincts and kissing the hell out of her.

  It’s for the best anyway.

  I have a feeling that kissing Bree would’ve been life-altering, and I’m quite comfortable with that current situation anyway.

  Or at least... that’s what I try to keep telling myself.

  If I’m being honest, it’s hard being alone. I haven’t trusted anyone since Bethany, and with good reason. That bitch stabbed me in the back before thrusting another dagger in my heart, only to finish the emotional execution with a final slash to my wallet.

  Releasing a deep breath, I try to shake off the overwhelming anger that consumes me anytime I think of Beth’s betrayal.

  I haven’t let anyone get close since our relationship ended in college.

  I’ve had a few flings. Which is what I had expected Bree to be when I first met her. But I can’t help but want more with her.

  More playful banter. More intimate touching. More contagious laughter. More innocent flirting.

  Just more.

  And that scares the living shit out of me.

  I left my own company retreat early, because I couldn’t stomach watching Jude touch what feels a hell of a lot like mine.

  The problem is that I know Bree wants me. She made her feelings known that night I drove her home after work. I can feel her eyes on me anytime we’re in the same room, because I can’t help but seek her out too. I can sense her before she’s even made her presence known. I’ve never been more aware of an individual, my body reacting on a physical level like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

  If we didn’t work together, I’d consider taking a chance by getting close to her.

  By letting her in.

  Maybe.

  Unfortunately, after Bethany cheated on me, stole my golden business idea, and started a new company based on my innovative concept, I’m a little hesitant to jump into a relationship with anyone, let alone a fellow employee.

  Sucks for Bree.

  Sucks for me.

  But I honestly don’t know how to get around it.

  That being said, I’m not sure I can handle seeing her date one of my best friends, either. I had unwittingly assumed Bree was joking about dating Jude.

  But apparently, the girl has balls of steel, because she didn’t even hesitate to kiss him in front of me. It was almost like she wanted me to witness another man touching her.

  What if….

  No. Bree wouldn’t do that. Would she? She wouldn’t date someone else just to make me jealous.

  And there’s no way Jude would jump on board with such an asinine arrangement. Would he?

  There’s no way.

  He wouldn’t do that.

  She wouldn’t do that.

  But what if they... did?

  If that’s what they’re doing then it’s working like a charm. One of them must be an evil mastermind. My money’s on Bree. She might look all sweet and innocent, but deep down she’s a mischievous little shit.

  I can’t stop the grin from spreading across my face as I consider the lengths that girl might go to get my attention.

  Hell, she spilled nachos all over my lap the first time I met her.

  I’ve been going out of my mind with jealousy ever since Jude mentioned their plans to go out tonight after our time at the gun range. Now, I’m curious if those plans are real or not.

  Pulling out my phone, I send a quick text to Jude.

  Me: How’s the date going?

  After a few minutes, I receive his reply.

  Jude: Great, just picked up sushi and am headed to Bree’s apartment right now.

  Grinning, an idea begins to form. I tap away on my phone quickly.

  Me: Don’t you know how rude it is to text while on a date? Come on Jude, I thought England raised you better than that!

  Jude: Which is why I’m putting my phone away right now. Bugger off.

  Me: Have fun.

  Slipping my phone into my pocket, I make one of the most impulsive decisions of my life.

  I grab my keys and head over to a girl’s apartment in hopes of catching her very much alone and very ready for a spanking.

  Figuratively speaking, of course.

  11

  Bree

  Since Derrick decided to bail early, Jude and I decided to call it a night as well. Jude dropped me off at my apartment then went on a real date. I changed into my ratty sweats and a neon green colored tank top as soon as I entered my tiny home. My mascara is bugging my eyes for some reason, so I don’t hesitate to wash my face and throw my hair in a messy bun for good measure. I look like a homeless person, but since my date includes me, some Chinese, and Netflix, I think I’m good to go.

  I’ve got popcorn popped and am munching away while flipping through Netflix, debating what to watch.

  There’s a loud banging on the door, and I grab another handful of popcorn before heading over and swinging it open, assuming it’s the Chinese food I ordered.

  Luke would kill me if he knew I didn’t look through the peephole before answering my door, and I realize my mistake as soon as I see who’s on the other side.

  Why hello sexy Viking, man of my dreams, big boss on campus. You are definitely not the sweet little Asian man who normally delivers my General Tso’s Chicken.

  What the hell are you doing here?

  My face immediately scrunches up in a combination of horror and shock, as I debate whether to slam the door in Derrick’s face or to invite him in and climb his muscular frame like a monkey in a tree, only to kiss the ever loving crap out of him.

  The flight instinct is in full effect apparently, because I quickly slam the door in Derrick’s face and lock it. A roar of laughter seeps through the thick wood.

  Nearly yelling through the barrier I ask, “What the hell are you doing here? And how the hell do you know where I live? You’re not stalking me are you? Not that I’d mind, but a little heads up would be nice!” I bite my lip to stop from rambling. My cheeks heat after admitting I wouldn’t mind being the center of his attention.

  His muffled voice responds, “I drove you home and made sure you got inside safely, remember? So no stalking necessary. I just stopped by to give something to Jude. He said he’d be here.”

  Shit.


  I roll my eyes and lightly bang my forehead against the door, counting to ten in my head and hoping the giant on the other side of my door decides nobody’s home and leaves.

  Totally unrealistic hopes and dreams, but apparently those are what I live for.

  After a minute or so, I hear his gruff voice. “Bree? You there?”

  “He’s not here yet,” I lie, knowing he’s not coming at all.

  “Oh, but he’s coming?” I can practically hear the sarcasm in his voice.

  The bastard doesn’t believe me, which is smart of him… but that’s not the point!

  I am so screwed.

  “Why wouldn’t he be? We have a date tonight, remember?” I mock.

  “Can you open up the damn door so we can have this conversation face-to-face?” he growls.

  I think he’s frustrated that I’ve locked him out.

  Counting to ten, again, I consider whether I should run and hide underneath my bed or man-up and let him inside.

  Groaning, I unlock the deadbolt and open the door slowly, the hinges creaking as I do.

  Derrick looks good enough to eat in his dark gray henley shirt, a leather jacket, and denim jeans. His hands are resting from the top of of the doorjamb, his stance casual as he leans forward slightly. His signature smirk is firmly plastered on his stupidly handsome face. Even his freaking dimple is making an appearance.

  I’m in so much trouble.

  I cringe inwardly after not-so-subtly checking him out.

  “So what do you need to give Jude? I can happily pass it along.” I cross my arms, hoping to cover my barely there tank top. And to stand my ground.

  I will not be intimidated by this guy!

  This stupidly sexy, arrogant guy that I’m definitely not drooling over.

  Derrick’s eyes scan me up and down, taking in my freshly washed face, messy bun, tank top, and baggy sweatpants that may or may not have a hole in the crotch.