Decoy Date

by Mira Lyn Kelly

  Ahh. Right.

  And now Jill had actually covered her mouth with her hand.

  “Yes, we’re good,” Gwen replied, trying not to sound like some breathy phone-sex operator. “Thanks for helping me get it all figured out.”

  He was nodding, backing through the door now, a grin spread wide across his face. “Good, well, anything you need, my door’s always open.” And then as an afterthought, his eyes cut to Jill, who was deep in the study of her thumbnail. “For anyone, anytime.”

  And yeah, this couldn’t happen again. Not at work. Because Brody had no game.

  Jill looked up at Brody, an adoring smile on her face. “Umm, there is one thing, Brody.” She waved her hand around her neck and chest before offering a small nod in Brody’s direction. “You may want to button your shirt. Or not. I mean, whatever.”

  Chapter 12

  Somehow, Gwen had made it through three hours without her shaking hands causing a tray to spill or her flustered thoughts to get in the way of taking an order right. There’d been enough business to keep her occupied but not so much that she couldn’t keep up. Jill had teased her mercilessly, but in the kindest, most enthusiastic way. Same with the guys behind the bar and the other servers.

  To his credit, Brody had pretty much left Gwen alone. Or not alone, since he’d been around and watching her most of the night, but he’d given her enough space to be able to do her job. His only direct contact had been catching her as she passed with a drink order to whisper in her ear that she should let Ted know he was off duty for the night.

  The minutes and then the hours had ticked by, until finally, Jill tapped Gwen’s shoulder and told her to clock out.

  Gwen set her drink tray down behind the bar and scanned the crowd. No Brody. That was almost a relief, because she had no idea what she was gonna say. No idea what she would do. More kissing seemed like a good start, but there should probably be some kind of conversation between them first.

  Cutting into the ladies’ room, Gwen stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked the same as she had when she had arrived at work, at least on the surface. But her eyes were a little brighter, her cheeks a little pinker, and even all these hours later, she could still feel Brody’s kiss on her lips. Okay, she could feel him everywhere.

  That was the problem. The reason she was standing in the ladies’ room instead of already with Brody.

  Yes, they’d kissed, and it had been amazing and wonderful and all the things Gwen had thought she wouldn’t be able to have. And as far as relationship clues went, a kiss with the kind of happy ending she’d just had was about as much confirmation as anyone could ask for that things were a go. But no way was she willing to risk another misunderstanding.

  So even though all she could think about was flinging herself into Brody’s arms, she was going to do the right thing and walk calmly to his office. Knock on his door. And when he let her in, they would talk. And if everything went the way she hoped it would, then and only then would she see about seconds on the kiss that would forever remain first in her mind. And only once they’d left Belfast. Because this was a place of business, and as much as she needed to feel Brody’s arms around her, and his breath in her hair, and everything else that she was driving herself crazy fantasizing about, it wasn’t going to happen again at work. End of story.

  When Gwen got to the end of the hall, the door was closed. She reached to knock, then gasped as the door swung open before her knuckles could make contact. Then gasped again as those sea-green eyes raked over her from head to toe, and one powerful arm reached out, circling her waist before hauling her to his body.

  “Thank fuck,” he growled above her head, holding her close as he spun her out of the way and closed the door. “I couldn’t wait another second.”

  Her breath left her lungs in a rush. “Neither could I.”

  And then her fingers were lost in his hair as his mouth came down on hers in a claiming kiss as hard and impatient as the last one. Her shoulders met the door with a thunk, and then she had the delicious weight of Brody’s big body against her. Pressing her into the solid panels behind her as he kissed her harder. His hands were moving over her hips. Sliding up her ribs and down her thighs. Pulling her closer as he kissed her like he was never going to stop.

  Desperate for more, she opened beneath him, moaning around the deep thrust of his tongue and roving touch. They were out of control. Desperate. Both pulling at each other as if they couldn’t get enough, as if they weren’t in the back office of a bar populated by a couple hundred people.

  Wait, she’d had a plan. Hadn’t she?

  Who needed a plan when she had a kiss like this? One she’d been waiting for that was just for them and left no room for misunderstanding.

  And oh God, it was so good.

  Another clench of his hands at her thighs, and she was wrapping her legs around him, meeting the rocking of his hips with her own, groaning at the steely friction between her legs and the kiss that was burning out of control.

  “Brody,” she gasped against his mouth as they moved together. “I was going crazy. I still feel like I’m going crazy.”

  “Crazy good?” he asked, one hand sliding over her butt in a gripping caress that left her even more breathless. “Because to me, this is crazy good. Anything prior to five minutes ago was crazy bad. Insane bad. Asylum bad.”

  Right now, definitely crazy good. “Asylum good.”

  “We should talk.” His mouth was working down her jaw to her neck, burning a path of devouring kisses. “I know we should.”

  Her arms tightened around his neck, her breasts pushing harder into his powerful chest. He was so strong. So broad.

  “We are talking.” Her legs locked tighter around his back. “We’re totally talking.”

  The room spun, and her shoulders met another wall.

  “We are,” he agreed, his voice so deep and rumbly that she felt it as much as heard it when he spoke. “Be my date for the wedding.”

  “Your date?”

  His hips rolled again, hitting exactly the right spot. The one that made her whimper and beg for more. “I know we’re both in the wedding and already going to be there, but I want to know—I want everyone to know—at the end of the night, you’re mine.”

  Her fingers were in his wild mane of hair, tangling in the thick strands she never wanted to let go of. “I’ll be your date. And I’m already yours.”

  Another dizzying spin, and this time, she was sinking into the soft cushions of the couch, Brody’s weight pressing down on her from above. Her breath caught, and she blinked up at him. “You feel so good.”

  Those green eyes held with hers for an instant. “Fuck, we should stop. Tell me to stop.”

  Stop? Never.

  Then he was kissing her again with an urgency and need that matched her own, that drove her wild. She couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t stop pulling at his hair, his clothes. Begging him for more of what he was already giving her. Moaning when his mouth found her breast through her clothes. Arching beneath him when he pushed her T-shirt up and pulled her bra down. Crying out as his lips closed hot around her nipple and he sucked.

  “Brody!” Sensation shot from her breast to low in her belly, lacing tight through her center.

  Her hands were all over his back, following the muscles laid in thick slabs as they shifted and rolled with every movement he made.

  She’d only touched his body a few times, but even without her hands all over him, it was impossible not to have at least an idea of how incredibly he was built. Especially when the straining seams of every shirt hinted at the playground that lay beneath. She’d thought about it. What he might look like naked. Then she’d told herself it was better not to know. But now, as one muscle flexed against the next, his mouth covering her breast, his hand pushing up her skirt as his knee fit between her legs—she couldn’t wait.
r />   “Let me see,” she gasped, pulling at the buttons of his shirt. “Please.”

  Brody pulled back, a furrow between his brows as he searched her eyes. “See what?”

  Okay, and there was nothing hotter on the planet than Brody O’Donnel kneeling above her on his enormous leather couch. She swallowed, looking into his eyes. “This,” she murmured breathlessly, leaning up toward him so she could push at the bottom of his shirt again. But that change in position shifted her closer to the heavy thigh notched between her legs, putting pressure on the spot that was already making her mindless.

  Leave it to Brody not to miss the way her breath sucked in and her eyes lost focus.

  One corner of his mouth hitched up as he flexed his thigh against her sex.

  Another gasp from her, and a low, rumbling growl sounded from deep in Brody’s chest.

  “Is that the spot?” he asked, rocking his thigh in to her again and finding the answer in her fractured breath and parted lips. Then he did it again and again, and all she could do was nod and move with him. Lift her arms as he stripped her Belfast T-shirt and bra off the rest of the way.

  His cheeks had turned a darker shade of red, and his eyes burned with need as he palmed her breasts and thumbed her nipples. “You’re so beautiful. Like a fucking dream. More. Because I’ve been dreaming about you for too long, and even in the best of them, you never look like this.”

  She wanted to answer him, thank him, or say something in reply. But he was still rocking against that needy spot, and the combination of his rumbling voice with the contact and friction was taking her to a place where coherent speech was beyond her.

  And when he reached over his head to grab a handful of the back of his shirt and started pulling it off…it was too much, too good, too everything she’d been missing for too damn long, and her body arched, pulsing against that perfect pressure point, making her gasp and pant as each new mind-blowingly perfect inch of taut, muscly torso was revealed to her.

  He must’ve felt her reaction—seen it in her face or heard it in that desperate cry—because his eyes darkened, and the already-tense muscles across his abdomen flexed harder as her name passed his lips. He whipped the shirt off the rest of the way, and good God, it was enough to set off yet another wave of pleasure. Because his body…

  He was built broad, with thick slabs of muscles across his shoulders and chest, and bands of defined muscles that tapered toward his waist. His jeans hung low, and she could see that sexy V and the smattering of red-brown hair that started at his chest and narrowed into a line that dipped lower than the denim would let her see.

  He was incredible, a work of art. But she only got to admire him for a second before he was covering her with all that bare skin. Giving her the decadent press of his weight on top of her. And letting his urgent words scatter against her neck and jaw.

  “Please,” she said, panting, her knees shifting restlessly against his hips as she tried to reach the front of his fly with her hands. “Brody, I need you.”

  Like she’d never needed anything in her life. Like she was going to die if she didn’t have him.

  He swore against her neck, the sound guttural and raw. There was a beat of stillness between them. The quiet before the storm that signaled a frenzy of critical actions and ragged breaths. Brody pushing her skirt up, then catching her panties on the way down. His thick belt hitting the floor next to his open wallet. She had his jeans undone, the denim bunched around his thighs, as he handled the condom.

  She was trembling, her heart racing as need pulsed hot within her.

  And then he was there. Braced on one powerful arm above her while he fit himself against her sex. Their eyes met, and he pushed inside.

  “Okay, baby?” he asked, searching her eyes as he held himself still.

  She nodded, trying to find her breath. It was a fullness like she’d never known, one she wouldn’t have thought she could take, but now that she had it, she never wanted to give up.

  Sliding her fingers into those wild waves hanging around his face, she promised, “I’m good.”

  So good. And not just because of the new kinship she shared with all those shirts that were always straining around his bulk. But because he had filled her everywhere. Her heart was brimming over with him, he was spilling through her every thought, and his body—

  He started to move, and every thrust touched a place so deep inside her that she lost her breath. Every slow, dragging retreat had her on the brink of orgasm. Again.

  “Gwen…so good…so tight.” Rocking into her, he pressed his brow to hers. “Baby, can you take more?”

  Her eyes blinked wide. Because…what?

  “Yes.” Wait, had she said that?

  Then she wasn’t saying anything, because all she could do was moan through the exquisite stretch of Brody giving her all of himself. She’d known he was big, had felt the solid width of him in the storeroom, but this…this was died-and-gone-to-heaven stuff. Porn-star-noises stuff. Praying-he-never-stopped stuff.

  But he wasn’t even close to stopping. He was just getting started, his pace picking up as he delved deep and dragged all that thick length back out.

  Every stroke spurred a new cascade of spasms through her center and took her closer to that point she’d nearly forgotten existed until the week before. Tension was gathering fast in her core.

  Brody pumped into her harder, deeper.

  She couldn’t take any… “Oh God, more. Yes, like that!”

  “Fuck, Gwen,” he growled above her, gripping her hip in his powerful hold and bringing her up to meet his next thrust, then following her down with his body until he was buried so deep inside her that his groin met the spread of her sex in a hard kiss of flesh against needy, straining flesh.

  Her world came apart in wave after wave of aching pleasure so intense, it seared her from the inside out. Clutching at his shoulders, she buried her face against his chest, using his body to mute the sounds she couldn’t stop from coming.

  Brody stayed buried deep inside her, rocking slowly until the waves started to ease and she was able to look up into his face and see the intensity staring back at her.

  “Don’t hold back,” she whispered, tipping her hips to meet his.

  He reached beneath her, gripping her ass in a way that made her clench around him again. And then he wasn’t holding back at all, his big body moving hard and fast and so very deep. The muscles along his jaw, neck, and shoulders stood out in stark relief, and beads of sweat were rising on his brow and chest. He was like nothing she’d ever seen before.

  Then, eyes locked with hers, he drove into her one last time and growled a single word. “Mine.” And with that final claim, she followed him over the edge again.

  * * *

  “I’m never leaving this office again.” Gwen sighed from where he’d laid her back over his desk.

  He dropped a kiss against the silky bare thigh draped over his right shoulder and then nibbled the one on his left. “Mmm, so I get to keep you in here. For whenever I want you?”

  Yeah, that had way more appeal than it should. But damn, the idea of finding Gwen in here every time he walked through the door, laid out in his open shirt and nothing else… Fuck, he really hadn’t thought he could get hard again that fast.

  She propped herself up on her elbows behind her, meeting him with the sauciest look he’d ever seen.

  “To use as you like?” Her teeth sank into the swell of that sexy lip, and yeah, he was definitely hard. Like ready to drive nails through a board.

  Gently easing her legs from his shoulders, he reached over her and, catching the sides of that too-big shirt, used it to pull her up against him. Her arms linked around his neck, and her legs fell around his waist as he kissed her deeply, giving her a taste of herself. She pressed closer, moaning as she met his tongue with the soft stroke of her own.

 
Jesus, this woman.

  He carried her back to the couch like that and then sat in the middle so there was room for her knees on either side.

  “The bar’s been closed for an hour. Everyone’s gone by now.” He ran his hands up her thighs and over the round globes of her perfect ass. “I could get us something to eat.”

  She shook her head, all that honeyed blond spilling around her shoulders. How had he ever thought he’d be able to limit himself to friendship alone with this woman?

  “No, I think the CLIF Bar you dug out of the bottom of your gym bag two hours ago is going to get me through.”

  “Had to keep your energy up,” he teased, working the buttons of his shirt closed and then opening them again. Damn, he couldn’t stop touching her. “But if I’m serious about getting you to sign on as my personal office sex slave, I should probably stock up on provisions.”

  “At least a few more condoms,” she teased, walking her fingers up his chest. “Though I have to say, a part of me was relieved you didn’t have an economy-size box tucked in your desk drawer. Like this was some regular thing.”

  He didn’t think anything could make him stop regretting only packing two rubbers in his wallet. But that did.

  “Gwen,” he said, bringing her face up to his. Needing her to understand. “Baby, there’s never been a box of anything in here. But full disclosure, there probably will be starting tomorrow. I’ve never needed them. Hell, I’ve never even been tempted to bring a woman back here before.”

  Her eyes brightened, even though he could see she was tired. “So I was your first dirty office sexcapade?”

  He laughed, loving the smile she was giving him. “Yeah, you were my first.”

  Another she’d taken.

  She sighed and rested her head against his chest. “That’s nice.”

  Not as nice as being able to hold her in his arms. They stayed like that for a while, Brody running his fingers over her hair as softly as he could, feeling her relax against him with every breath. More than anything, he wanted to keep holding her like that. Let her fall asleep in his arms and hold her the whole night through.