Miss Fix-It

But it was his eyes that made me stop. The way a darkness that hinted at desire tickled the edges of his gaze. The way they shone bright with laughter at the same time they revealed how he was feeling in that very second.

I swallowed.

“We could pretend it never happened,” he said in a low voice. “Or we could just admit that we’re attracted to each other and deal with it from there.”

“I don’t—I mean, I’m not… Attracted to you,” I finished stupidly.

“You mean you’re not very good at lying.”

“Yeah. That, too.”

He dropped his arms and approached me. I backed up until my back hit the edge of the counter.

Shit. Idiot. Now, you’re trapped.

I gripped the edge of the marble counter and took a deep breath.

He stood in front of me, towering over me by a few inches, and rested his hands either side of my body. His thumbs brushed my pinky fingers, settling where I could just feel the tickle of them through the air.

“Deal with it,” I echoed, my mouth dry. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

He glanced at my mouth.

Dear god, how was he able to answer my question without speaking?

“Okay, but, um, here’s the thing.” I couldn’t breathe. I sounded like a panting idiot trying to get the words out between each short, sharp breath I took. “This,” I motioned between us, “is bad.”

“Bad.” His lips tugged to the side.

“Yes. Because,”—help. Someone help—“because this isn’t allowed. Company rules. No cavorting with clients.”

“No cavorting with clients.” That half-smile turned into a full-blown grin. “That’s very…proper.”

“Well, I can’t exactly put, “No fucking the clients” now, can I?”

“You could have, but it would have been unfortunately precise.”

“I should change that.”

“I disagree.”

I licked my lips. “You should agree. Because this is—”

“Bad. You said.” More lip twitching.

“I thought you were sorry you made it awkward by kissing me.”

“That was before I found out you were attracted to me. Now, I’m a lot less sorry I kissed you.”

Oh. Well. Fair enough.

“Should I take back my acceptance of your apology?” I asked.

“You should stop talking and see how you feel when I’ve kissed you again.”

“Kissed me—”

He silenced me with his lips on mine. A huge shiver wracked my body, and he smiled against my mouth, hands slowly sliding up my arms. He grazed his teeth over my lower lip as he pulled away, and my heart pounded against my chest.

There was only a breath of air between our lips. I could taste him, and although I knew I’d hate myself, I couldn’t help it.

I placed my hands either side of his neck and kissed him right back. Firmly. I kissed him the way he had me the night before, with force and unfightable desire. As he wound one hand into my hair, I pushed up on tiptoes, my ass now digging into the edge of the counter as he leaned against me.

My head spun. It felt so fucking good, probably because I knew it was wrong. But, I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop my heart from pounding or my body from reacting to him the way it was. The skin tingles, the chest tightening, the lust that pooled between my legs and made my clit ache…

None of it.

It was out of control, and all because of him.

His body was hard against mine—and so was his cock. It pressed, fighting against the confines of his jeans, against my lower stomach. This only turned me on more, sent more desire running at a fast pace through my blood.

I wanted him to fuck me right here, right now, up against the kitchen counter, and I no longer fucking cared about it.

I just wanted more—more touching, more kissing, more of him.

His lips moved over mine so smoothly. His fingers toyed with my hair just enough that tiny stings radiated over my scalp, and his tongue fought with mine as the kiss got deeper and deeper.

Rougher. More desperate. More—

The floorboards above us creaked.

I pulled back with a half-gasp and looked at the ceiling.

Brantley stayed where he was, perfectly still, until there was another creak. It was followed by the sound of hollow footsteps on the top stairs.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, briefly pressing his forehead against mine. With a deep breath, he released me and pushed away. I dropped my eyes to his crotch where his erection was completely visible, and he adjusted his jeans in an effort to hide it.

I buried my face in my hands. I’d done that a lot lately, but I could feel the tingles across my lips as the heels of my hands pressed against them.

Brantley’s voice was muffled at the bottom of the stairs, and I heard the distinct, sleepy tone of Eli muttering something in response. There was a shuffle, then the sound of the stairs creaking as they went upstairs.

I dropped my hands and blew out a long breath. There was no denying that this time, I’d been the one who’d crossed the line. I could have said no, kept up denial, but I didn’t. I’d given in, and, one again, been saved by one of the twins.