Trouble on Tap (Sweet Salvation Brewery 3)

Sliding his hand beneath the elastic waist of his basketball shorts, he curled it around his half-hard cock and wondered what it would be like if he actually touched her like he used to. She had melted in his arms in the veterans’ center. Her skin had been so soft and her mouth so willing… God, the damage they could do to each other with enough time and condoms. He brought his hand up and down the shaft, picturing the curve of her neck and the creamy flesh of her tits that had been visible above her shirt’s neckline. How many times had he jerked off to her three Sports Illustrated covers, remembering how she’d felt underneath him? Too many to count, and he was about to add another without even the aid of seeing a picture of her in the world’s tiniest white bikini.

Just as he got a good rhythm going, the dog barked and scrambled out from underneath the coffee table as if he’d been goosed by a fireplace poker. A second later, the sound of a car making its way up the driveway filtered in through the open kitchen windows. Cock at half mast and wearing only his basketball shorts, he wasn’t exactly ready for visitors. Not that he ever was. Hand still holding position, he watched the vehicle approach until the security lights near the parking pad illuminated Olivia’s yellow Fiat. His cock jumped in anticipation.

The dog whined and pawed the front door.

Mateo gave his hands a quick rinse in the kitchen sink before making his way over to the door, walking more bowlegged than normal. He glanced through the window. Instead of walking around back to the cabin, she was heading right for his front door.

Grabbing the newspaper off the entry table, he closed the distance to the door and positioned the newspaper in front of his loose basketball shorts. It wasn’t the greatest boner camouflage but it was better than opening his door with a flag pole in his pants.

Putting on his best leave-me-alone snarl, even though everything below the waist was happy as hell to see Olivia, he jerked open the door. “What do you want?”

Seemingly undeterred by his less-than-cheerful greeting, she marched up the stairs, her hips swaying with each forward step. “Hello to you to.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.” He eyeballed the paper bag in one hand and a growler of beer from Sweet Salvation Brewery in the other. Armed with goodies and wearing a bright-blue tank, a filmy floral skirt and a honey-I’m-home smile, she looked as if she’d expected the warmest of welcomes. Maybe she’d hit her head at the fundraiser volunteer meeting this afternoon before they’d called the whole thing off.

“My God, you are prickly. If after the day I’ve had, I can still be almost civil, then so can you.” Not that it seemed to bother her one iota.

“What happened to you, break a nail?”

“I wish.” She sighed and her shoulders slumped. “My scumbag ex posted private pictures of me to a revenge-porn site and now some shitty tabloid TV show got wind of them and is sharing them with the world—including the entire population of Salvation, which is gossiping about that trashy Sweet triplet as we speak.”

A tidal wave of white-hot rage rushed through him. No one deserved to have that happen to them. It was a violation and it was wrong, but it wasn’t always illegal. “You’re not trashy and your ex is a real asshole.”

“Nothing I can do about it now, so I’ve brought comfort food.” She held out the bag, showcasing The Kitchen Sink’s logo on one side. “I brought two slices of Ruby Sue’s pecan pie, but if you don’t want one of them, I guess I could share it with the dog.”

She plopped down on his porch, her skirt fluttering down to rest midway up her toned thighs, and took out an individually wrapped slice. Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes and made some sort of sound that made him think of all the things he could do to her to get her to make it again.

The dog, traitor that he was, happily did the waggle-butt dance over to her side.

People had ended up with black eyes in mad scrambles for the last piece of Ruby Sue’s pie. Letting a dog slurp it up was like Photoshopping his ugly mug onto a Victoria’s Secret model. He couldn’t let that happen.

“You’re not really going to give that to the dog.” Just saying the words was like getting a sharp jab to the sternum.

Olivia looked up and the security light picked up every blonde highlight in her hair, giving her a halo when he knew damn well that woman had horns. “Why not?” She batted her eyelashes at him. “It wouldn’t hurt the cute little doggie.”

The animal in question was in some sort of blissf

ul nirvana state sitting hip-to-hip next to Olivia. His eyes were closed and his nose was going a mile a minute.

“But it’s Ruby Sue’s pie.” He could practically taste the sugary sweetness on his tongue. “You can’t waste that on the dog.”

Olivia flipped her hair over one nearly bare shoulder dusted with freckles. “So invite me in.”

Now that way lay trouble. “What are you, a vampire that needs an invitation?”

“Worse. I’m a Sweet.” She gave him an exaggerated wink. “But a big tough guy like you couldn’t be afraid of having little ol’ me in your house, could you?”

Want slammed through him with the power of a fifty-caliber rifle. Every taunt that came out of her beyond- kissable pink mouth was a promise that couldn’t be fulfilled, but damn if it wasn’t the only thing he could think about.

Olivia couldn’t believe she’d actually made it through the front door without busting into frustrated tears or going on a rant about what had just gone down at The Kitchen Sink. Finally today, something was going according to plan. Now if she could just work this right, she’d actually get Mateo to help with the fundraiser that the mayor was trying so damn hard to ruin.

And if she could manage to keep her attention on her goal instead of Mateo’s cute butt, she might actually get what she needed.

She followed Mateo into his gourmet kitchen that would have looked right at home in Architectural Digest. Large windows spanned both walls, giving anyone inside a front-row seat to the natural beauty of Burnett’s Hill. In contrast with the warm woods and greenery outside, everything inside was cold and modern—stainless-steel appliances, black granite countertops and dark, nearly black cherry-wood cabinets filled the large space. Strong, intimidating and immense, just like the man who stood on one side of the large kitchen island eyeing her warily.

He should be wary. She’d brought her A game tonight. After what had gone down with the mayor, she didn’t have a choice. The fundraiser had to be a success.

Setting the sixty-four-ounce growler filled with the brewery’s latest craft brew and the pie on the island, Olivia walked to the cabinets beside the refrigerator. “Where are your glasses?”