“That’s before I knew,” she yelled.
“Knew what? That I slept with her? Is that where this is really going? Is that what we really need to talk about?”
She made a face and closed her eyes. “No. Don’t.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to think about you with her. I don’t care about that.”
She didn’t care? If she didn’t care… He took two steps toward her, put his hands on his hips when he really wanted to run them over her body. “Then why did you pretend not to know me?”
“Because Jillian’s a vindictive bitch, and, apparently, you are”—she rolled her eyes—“the only man who’s ever stolen her heart. If she thought you were interested in me over her, I’d be the one to suffer.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were working in the movie industry? I thought you’d signed on with another singer like Ellie.”
“Because I didn’t want to talk about work. Or about Jillian. I just wanted to forget about it all for one night.”
That didn’t ease his frustration. In fact, it made him angrier.
“So I was an escape.” He moved closer until his body brushed hers. Until she had to tilt her chin back to look up at him. And Keaton could not fucking believe how badly he wanted her. His entire body surged with the raw need to feel Brooke again. “But now I’m a problem. So this is how it’s going to be? You’re just going to prance around the set in all these sexy little dresses and pretend I don’t exist every fucking day?”
She pressed her lips together in determination, but her eyes closed in a look of pained desire. Then she stepped back and braced her hand on the dining room table. She took a slow deep breath and said, “If that’s what I need to do to keep my job.”
Anger spiked again. “Priorities. Is that it?”
She nodded.
That stubborn line of her jaw irked something deep inside him. He leaned in and pressed both hands to the table, flanking her. His body came into contact with hers—thighs, hips, chests. She let out a breath carrying the softest moan, it fizzed through Keaton’s blood and made him high.
With his lips at her ear, he murmured, “So, what about me? What are you going to do about all the things I’m thinking during the day, watching you in these sexy little dresses?”
“Oh God…” The high-pitched words came out as barely a whisper, but they sang through Keaton’s blood with the power of an opera.
“Sixteen hours a day. Every day.” He pulled back to look into her eyes and found them drunk. He skimmed his gaze over the open neckline of her dress and all that creamy skin. “All that time just to watch you move, look at your body tucked into these”—he lifted a hand, pressed one finger to the side of her breast, and let it follow the curve of her body to her hip—“sweet little dresses.”
“Keaton…” Her eyes opened, flooded with heat and lust and frustration. Her chest rose with quick breaths, and her breasts strained against the top of the dress.
“With skirts like these and all the hidden spaces around the warehouses,” he said, “I could give you my hand and my mouth and bring you heaven in five minutes any time you wanted it, all day long.”
“Oooooooh…” she groaned, her eyes sliding closed.
“You want it, don’t you, Brooke?” he whispered.
“Yeeeees…”
The sweetest high flooded
Keaton’s chest. He lowered his lips to her temple and kissed her. Brooke leaned into his touch, hummed with desire, and fisted his T-shirt. Keaton was instantly high. “You want it now, don’t you, baby?”
“Fuck…” Her hands tightened and twisted the cotton of his tee. “Yes…”
Keaton’s eyes slid closed. He dropped his hand, found the hem of her skirt, and slid his hand up her thigh. “You’re so warm.”
The press of her lips against his brought his eyes open, and he found Brooke’s rich blue eyes, heavy lidded and filled with passion and the same affection that had been there that morning, staring back at him. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this all day.” She kissed him softly, sliding the tip of her tongue along his lip and setting him on fucking fire. “I ache.”
The breathy words, the insinuation that she needed him, wanted him, had waited for him, thrilled him beyond words. He kissed her back, teasing her lips while he held her gaze and slipped his fingers under her panties.
He passed a whispery touch over her, and she shivered. She was already on the edge. The fact that she was there because she’d been thinking about him all day turned a lot of his anger and hurt into pure, raw lust.
Starting with one finger, he moved over her. She was slick and hot and swollen, and suddenly all Keaton could think about was getting in there with his hands, his mouth, his cock.
“Oh my God… Yes. Yes, yes, yes… Mmmm.”