Don't Touch

“Tick tock,” he says and taps his wrist. “I'm about to learn a secret about you.”

“Shit, all right. My mind is blank, I'm not sure what else.”

He laughs, relaxing his arms at his side. “Spill it. Tell me something no one else knows about you.”

“Okay, well, when I was sixteen, I stole my parents’ car and drove it into a ditch.”

“How is that a secret? I'm guessing your parents found out and you got grounded.”

“Nope. They have no idea. It was a Festiva, thing's the size of a roller skate. A couple guys happened to drive by and helped me get it out. So, other than two strangers I never saw again, you're the only person that knows.”

“There was no damage? They didn't notice at all?”

“There was some damage, but my dad didn't notice until days later, so he thought some asshole backed into the car.”

“No shit,” he says and laughs. “Parsley.”

I take out the seasoning, and another ingredient pops into my head. “Cumin.”

“Yup.”

“Sugar. . .” I say not certain.

“Close.”

“Brown sugar.” He gives me another nod. But that's it, that's the last ingredient I can think of. “Is this it?”

“Nope. There are four more.”

“Four more? You've got to be kidding me.”

“Keep trying. Think about it.”

Brisket has a kick.

“Chili powder?”

“Good guess, that's one.”

I'm glaring at the spices, and I have no clue what else could possibly be in this rub.

My shoulders roll forward, and I look back at him. “I don't know.”

“Time to spill it. Secret number two. Let me hear it.”

“Okay, let me think.” I look up at the ceiling and bite my bottom lip, trying to pick one. “Well, about three years back when I was eighteen, I went to this party and got really drunk, and I ended up making out with some girl.”

His eyes light up with curiosity. “Did you like it?”

“It was fun, I had a good time, so I guess I did.”

“That's hot,” he says, pressing himself a little closer and reaching over me. “Cayenne pepper. That's two. There are still two more.”

My eyes land on a bottle and I just take a guess. “Coriander?”

“Very good.” He rests his hand on my shoulder as he leans over and pulls it off the rack. “One more, and this one is the big secret ingredient. Everything else you'll find in almost any classic slow smoked barbecue brisket, but not this last one.”

My mind scrambles, but nothing comes to me. I'm at a lost. “Thyme?” I ask, guessing anyway and hoping for the best.

He shakes his head no with a sexy grin. “Secret number three, and after the last one, you need to make it good. Something. . . dirty,” he says with a smirk.

“Dirty? How dirty?”

“Like really dirty. Make me blush.”

He wants dirty to the point he blushes. My heart is pounding in my chest and my stomach is twisting. The room feels like it's getting hotter. I'm starting to sweat. It's beading up across my forehead and my palms are clammy.

I wipe my hands on my pants, trying to dry them, and take in a big breath. He wants dirty, so I'm going to give him dirty.

“I like having my asshole licked.”

“That's pretty dirty,” he says. Monroe presses his chest against my back and lets his cheek brush against mine as he leans over and reaches for a container on the counter. “Ginger. This is what makes people come back for my brisket.”

Monroe steps away wearing a huge smile. “Now we know a little more about each other.”

“You know about me; I don't know anything about you other than what you rub your meat with.”

“Play your cards right and maybe I'll really show you how I like my meat rubbed.” He bounces his brows and winks. “We still have work to do. You need to start seasoning the brisket, and I need eggs.”

He leaves and heads down the hall. I pour the dry ingredients in a big mixing bowl and give them a good stir. Time for the meat. I make my way to the walk-in fridge, and as I take the corner, Monroe is coming back out. We slam into each other.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” I say.

He holds my arms as he looks down at me. “That's twice now.” His voice is low, and he licks his lips again. But he doesn't let me go. His hands stay in place, thumbs rubbing up and down.

I know I should take a step back, but I can't move. His eyes are holding me in place. They flick around my face, dancing across my lips, then back to my eyes. His eyes are so dark, the brown almost black as he looms over me.

My heart jumps inside my chest and I bite my bottom lip. Kiss me. Just kiss me. The thought flutters through my head, pushing away everything else. As if he can read my mind, his hands scoop my face, and he does exactly what I'm soundlessly asking him to do.