Royal’s eyes widen dramatically as he nods. “I’ve seen some shit tonight. I might be emotionally scarred.”
“I doubt that. What I don’t get is why the landlord kicked him out when it was obvious he’d just got back in town.”
Royal smirks. “That was personal. I hear he got turned away from the party twice. That’s enough to make any man vindictive. I suppose Brendan could fight it if he wanted to, but he didn’t seem all that interested when we left.”
“Twice?”
“Kimmy—that’s the travel agent—asked for a place to crash and ended up having multiple parties of the extremely loud and incredibly naked variety, which is probably why she didn’t want to stay in a hotel. She thought he was a pervert.”
When we laugh, Brendan shouts from the living room, “Stop mocking my pain.”
Royal shakes his head and lays a monster paw on my shoulder. “Thanks for bringing Austen tonight. It might not have gone as planned, but you really came through. I owe you one.”
I smile, because he really does. “You can help with the deck tomorrow. And when you get your new place, we’ll go plant shopping. Maybe we can bring her along.”
His expression brightens and then he waves, heading back out into the night.
After I lock the door, I walk back to the living room to see Brendan’s six-foot frame sprawled across my couch. He’s kicked off his shoes and is in the process of unbuttoning his shirt. “I’ve never been so ready for a day to be over.”
Give me strength.
Without a word, I fast-walk my way to the kitchen to grab a large glass of water and some aspirin, then let the dog out of his crate and lay one of the blue pads down in case he needs to relieve himself. The little dude wakes up immediately and does his business without a peep before returning to the crate and curling up on his pale pink pillow.
“Ridiculous,” I whisper, shaking my head. “That should be your name.”
In the living room, I hand Brendan the water and aspirin. Then I pick up his shoes, placing them side by side at the end of the couch, and fold his dirty shirt to keep my hands busy while he guzzles down the water like he’s been in the desert for a year.
“Do you like your present?” he finally asks.
Present?
He sets the glass on my coffee table and, before I can put down a coaster or ask him what he’s talking about, he wraps his fingers around my wrist and tugs.
I tumble on top of him. “Brendan what the—”
His kiss cuts off my shout of surprise.
I’d like to say its shock that keeps me from immediately rejecting the press of his lips, but when mine part for his stroking tongue on a whimper, I know it’s a lie. I don’t want to reject it. Right or wrong, I can’t deny myself the pleasure of knowing what it’s like to kiss this man I’ve wanted for so long.
Brendan’s hungry moans and the deep, demanding thrust of his tongue set me on fire. His stubble scrapes against my skin as he tilts his head and I shudder against him, so aroused I can hardly breathe.
Air is overrated. Don’t stop.
“Millie…” His hands burrow beneath my sweatpants and boxer briefs, gripping the cheeks of my ass and rocking me against him. “Missed you.”
Millie.
The old nickname sends a jolt through my body, and so does the hard, heavy feel of his cock rocking against mine. He wants this? Me?
Think, Miller. That doesn’t make sense.
I push away from him and try to climb off the couch. “You’re drunk, Brendan. Really fucking drunk and you don’t know what you’re doing. Let me go.”
He holds on tighter, one hand at the back of my neck and the other slipping between us to wrap around my thickening erection. “Please. It’s okay. I know. I know and I need you…”
I need you.
He lifts his head off the couch to kiss me again, and then starts to stroke my shaft. When his thumb slides over the head to gather the moisture already beading at the tip, I cry out in surprised pleasure. He bites my upper lip before sucking on my tongue and my entire body responds, hips thrusting greedily into his fist.
I don’t do this. One or two men have gotten to this point in my lifetime. Tried to touch me like this. Usually my brain is too busy—
“Oh God,” I moan, my eyes nearly rolling back as his grip tightens around me. “I’m close.”
Close because it’s Brendan’s hand. His mouth on mine. I’ve always wanted it. I’ve been waiting for it.
He knows.
I break away from the kiss to look down, needing to see what he’s doing that’s turning my body inside out. My blood pounds in my ears as I watch myself fucking his strong, perfect fist. “Christ. What are we doing?”