Broken Beast

It's not Bash's voice. He wouldn't approve of this plan, but if it got me to fuck Danielle—

If that's what it takes, Adam. Must be miserable to spend so much energy hating yourself. Why not spend it loving pussy?

I almost hear his voice.

I almost laugh.

Fuck, I miss him so badly. The world isn't the same without him.

How is it turning?

How are Simon and Liam surviving?

How am I standing?

None of it makes sense.

Her fingers brush mine as she takes my glass, places it on the table next to hers. "Again?"

I nod. Again. Until I can handle the intimacy of a kiss.

This time, I try to channel my brother. What would he do, after he finished teasing me for my stupidity?

I bring my hands to her waist. Press my palm into the small of her back, over the smooth fabric of her dress.

I pull her closer.

Closer.

Her eyelids flutter together.

Mine follow.

My lips find hers.

Softly, at first.

The light pressure of her mouth against mine. The hint of wine and Danielle.

Then harder.

Her lips part.

Her groan vibrates against my mouth.

For a few beautiful moments, she yields to me, then she pulls back with a heavy sigh.

Her eyes open slowly. Her expression fills with desire. And something else I recognize.

She wants to melt into me. To melt into a puddle of desire. Into that perfect space where she trusts me to fill every one of her fucking needs.

I don't ask permission this time. I don't channel Bash. I let that other part of me take over.

The man who knows exactly how to read his partner.

She wants me to kiss her.

I can kiss her.

I can handle it.

I bring my hands to her hips and pull her body into mine.

Crotch, stomach, chest.

Lips.

I kiss her softly.

Then harder.

Her lips part.

Her tongue dances with mine.

Strange for a second.

Then familiar.

Intoxicating.

I hold her close as I swirl my tongue around hers.

Blood rushes south.

She groans against my mouth. Pushes closer, pressing her pelvis against my hardening cock, beckoning me to take her.

Here.

Now.

On the big, empty table. Her panties at her ankles, her legs spread, her cunt pulsing against my lips.

Then around my cock.

Her fingers skim my neck. My jaw. My cheek.

The scar running across my cheekbone—

I pull back.

"Adam." Her expression stays heady. Her eyes stay fuzzy.

I can't do this.

"Are you…" She blinks. "Am I moving too fast?"

I need to get the fuck out of here. "You're perfect."

She stares at me like she doesn't believe me. "One more time then." Her voice softens. "Please."

Fuck, the need in her voice.

"I need the practice." She takes a half-step toward me. "And I like kissing you." She looks into my eyes. "I know this is only pretend. I know you have no plans of falling in love with me."

I just barely nod.

"I don't want to fall in love with you either." She takes another half-step. "I know this isn't a normal job, but it is a job of sorts. And I don't like doing things half-assed."

"You don't want to pretend you love me half-assed."

"Not if I can help it." She takes another half-step. Into my space.

Desires surges through my veins.

I need her.

It's different.

Everything is different now.

This time, she moves slowly. She rests her hand on my cheek, the unmarked one, the side of me that's still man.

She runs her thumb over my temple, rises to her tiptoes, brings her lips to mine.

It's a soft kiss.

Slow, tender, intimate.

My head swims.

My body buzzes.

When she pulls back, I'm dizzy with desire.

Another three hundred and sixty-four days of this.

How the fuck am I going to survive that?

Chapter Eleven

Danielle

Adam makes an excuse about a work call. He leaves so fast he bumps into Trish as she rolls in dessert.

Trish shakes her head, but she doesn't stop him. "Don't mind Adam. He's not used to having company."

It's more than rusty manners. It's more than an addiction to work.

It's me.

Kissing me, specifically.

It's not hard to do that math. He's cool and in control all through dinner. Then, bam, the second he kisses me—

Time to run.

Which is fine.

Yes, I want to keep kissing him. Yes, I want to unzip his slacks and wrap my hand around his cock. Yes, I want to hear him groan.

But I—

Fuck, I can't think.

My head is flush with images of Adam.

His soft lips.

His hard chest.

That thin layer of fabric between my hand and his skin.

The pressure of his palm on my back.

He wants to fuck me.

I just have to ask. That's what he said. He'll fuck me if I ask.

If I go to his office right now and knock gently—

Will he say yes?

Or will he lock every part of himself away?

Dessert is raspberries and dark chocolate. Everything fresh and rich and delicious. None of it eases the tension in my sex.

I want him.

I want him badly enough I consider going to his office. Speaking in a gentle voice. Dropping to my knees and begging for whatever he'll give me.