Real Men Will (Donovan Brothers Brewery 3)

“What kind of men do you usually date?”

Beth took another bite and shrugged.

Eric pushed harder, not quite knowing why. “What about the guy you went out with last night? What’s he like?”

She chewed her pie very thoroughly, clearly buying time. Took a sip of water. “He’s an artist. And a musician.” Her lips curved in a small smile. “His name is Davis, after Miles Davis.”

“Ah, I see.” And he did see. Artists. Musicians. Guys with interesting lives and jobs that weren’t nine-to-five. Men who were pierced, if her column was any indication. She’d joked once that being seen with Eric would hurt her reputation.

Still, she’d chosen him. Eric tried to appease the jealousy that rose up over these men who were cooler and younger and got to hang around Beth twenty-four hours a day.

“What about you?” she asked. “What kind of girls do you normally date?”

“I don’t date much. When my brother and sister were younger, it was complicated.”

“You really raised them by yourself?”

“Well, they weren’t little kids. Tessa was fourteen when our parents died. Jamie was sixteen. But I couldn’t close down bars and have women over. So mostly it was just…” He didn’t know how to say it. “Occasional hookups.?

??

“Like this?”

“No.” He watched her lick ice cream from her fork. “Not like this.”

Their eyes met, and there was that thing between them again, that flash of lust that pierced through all his guilt and responsibilities. He wanted her. Now.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

Beth looked nearly as affected as he was. She nodded and pushed her chair back, rising to her feet even before he stood. Eric took her hand and led her out to his car. He pulled out of the lot and drove toward Boulder, his eyes focused on the road ahead.

“Your place?” he asked quietly.

“Yes.”

And not another word passed between them. They didn’t touch. Not even as he parked and opened her door. Not as they rushed up the stairs to her apartment. They slipped inside and she locked the door and then they were kissing.

Hard to believe it could be better this time, but there was something pushing his need to a new intensity. Frustration or jealousy. Something harsh. He fisted his hand in her skirt and pulled it up, sliding his leg between her knees as she backed into the wall.

Her hips tilted and the heat of her sex was pressed to his thigh.

Eric was already hard, his dick straining and heavy. He pulled back to unbutton her sweater. Beth reached for his belt.

As soon as her sweater was open, he shoved it down her arms then pushed the soft fabric of the dress down, too. She was trapped, held against the wall, and Eric slid her bra strap down and freed one of her gorgeous breasts.

When he ducked down to close his mouth over her nipple, Beth gasped, and the desperation in that sound made him even rougher. He bit her, scraping his teeth over her nipple as he sucked, and she cried out with a sound between pleasure and pain. He licked gently to soothe her, then bit again, loving the way his name broke in her throat. Going to his knees, he exposed her other breast as well, and gave it the same attention until she sobbed his name. When he finally tugged her dress all the way down, Beth freed her hands and twisted them in his hair, sliding down for a wet, deep kiss that left them both on their knees.

Impatient, she pushed him until he sat back, then she took off her bra and shoved her dress totally off. “Take off your shirt,” she said.

Eric’s eyes devoured the sight of her kneeling in nothing but underwear and heels. “My pants,” he suggested as he whipped his shirt over his head.

But when he reached toward his waistband, her gaze dipped down, assessing. “Just unbutton them.”

He obeyed without question.

Beth moved forward and put a hand to his chest. She trailed her fingers around his nipple, making him shiver in surprise. When she put both her hands to his chest and urged him back, he laid down just to see what would happen next. Beth knelt above him like a goddess, her eyes dark and devouring his body, lips parted as breath stole hard from her throat.

“I love your body,” she whispered. “I love looking at you. Take it out.”