Chapter Nine
"We going out?" Kane asked, watching him exit his bedroom. Brick had swapped out his usual T-shirt and jeans for a deep-blue button-down with snug khakis he used for special occasions. He'd abandoned his sneakers for a pair of soft Italian leather shoes he wore with no socks. His aftershave was clean with a hint of sea salt to mimic a beach day. He figured Aspen deserved a nice first impression in public. It would also show the gossipers he cared, which would both fuel and tame the fire. He didn't care about his reputation but he didn't want Aspen to be looked upon as a chaser or hanger-on, even though her sister could probably protect her.
For the deal to work, things needed to even out, and Brick intended to do his part.
"Nope. Got a date. Can you feed Dug and make sure he goes out?"
His friend regarded him with interest. "Can I come with you?"
Brick laughed. "No."
"Ah, it's one of those dates. Shall I remove myself tonight so she doesn't think you need a roommate to make rent?"
"Nope. Not gonna have sex tonight. This is a getting-to-know-you session."
"Fascinating. You said you haven't dated anyone since Anastasia. This woman must be special."
It was hard to keep the truth from his friend, but he wanted to adhere to the rules. The fewer people who knew, the better. "She's a writer, here for the summer. Took one of my tours, and I asked her out."
"I'm glad, man. God knows one of us needs to have a ray of sunshine. "
Brick tried not to wince as he said the next words. "Yeah, more good news. One of the very last banks I applied with came through. I got the loan, so I'll be renovating Ziggy's Tours."
"That's great!" Kane beamed, making a flicker of guilt cut through Brick. "I'm happy to help in any way you need. Free labor right here for the free rent."
"You don't owe me shit. You're my friend and would do the same for me."
Gratitude gleamed in Kane's green eyes. "Thanks. But I need the distraction."
Brick nodded in understanding. The story Kane had shared last night had been hard to hear. Once the wealthy business owner of a property investment firm, he was now bankrupt and just released from jail after they dropped the case. He'd trusted the wrong people and got screwed. But Brick knew it wasn't only his wallet that was hurting—it was also his heart. And he'd do anything to help his friend navigate the loss. "Then your ass is mine. I have a crew coming Monday at eight."
Kane grinned while Dug raced over and crashed into his leg. "Ouch. Are you sure his vision is good? He bumps into things a lot."
"Nah, he's just enthusiastic. Vet recently checked him out."
As if the word were a command, Dug began enthusiastically humping Kane's leg. "Great. Don't come home too early. Might as well give Dug some action since I'm not getting any."
Brick spit out a laugh. "Have fun."
He headed out, making the short drive to Sierra's house. The pretty yellow colonial with the wraparound porch was picture-perfect, wedged into a neighborhood of brochure-worthy snapshots as families walked to the nearby beach and kids played basketball in the driveways. Brick took a moment to settle himself before going to the door. It had been a while since he'd tried to make a woman like him. If Aspen had just wanted to have sex, it would be easier. This intimacy thing was too real—she was literally hiring him so she could fall in love. Or come close. That meant he needed to bring his A-game and actually…
Open up.
Because women loved emotion more than anything.
Cursing at his suddenly nervous heartbeat, he blew out a breath and left the car. The moment his shoes hit the front step, the door flew open, and Aspen raced out. "I'm ready," she said in a high voice, glancing back as if chased by a threat.
On cue, Sierra came bounding out, letting the screen door slam behind her. "Brick. I thought we could have a chat before you head out."
Ah, crap.
He remembered her approaching him once and his dismissal. She was a classic beauty, well-liked in town, and owned a local business. Hurting Sierra was not on his bucket list, so he'd rejected her as gently as handling an explosive. Entangling himself would have been his death warrant. Game over. Thanks for playing. Time to move.
Aspen groaned and shot her sister a pissed-off look that Sierra ignored. He forced a polite smile and figured he'd get it over with. They may be seeing each other a lot this summer. "Sure."
"Want some sweet tea?"
"You are not Dad grilling my new date," Aspen hissed. "This is weird."
"No, what's weird is our drunken, joking dialogue that you took seriously. I need to know Brick realizes what he's getting into."
He cleared his throat. "Sweet tea sounds good. Thanks."
He gave Aspen a supportive glance and stepped inside. The space was airy, light, and decorated in a classic beach theme. The scents of peonies and baked goods drifted in the air, immediately relaxing him. This was the home he wished for at Grandpa Ziggy's, Unfortunately, it felt more like a temporary rental than a safe retreat.
Sierra handed him a frosty glass, and he sighed with pleasure as the sweet, cool liquid trickled down his throat. When he paused, he noticed both sisters staring at him with a strange look. "What?"
Sierra sighed. "You should come with a warning label. Dangerous to any persons with estrogen resulting in side effects such as brain fog, butterflies, and a desire to throw yourself off a cliff."
"Sierra!" Aspen yelped. "Oh, my God."
Damned if his cheeks didn't heat at her backhanded compliment on his looks. "Um, thanks?"
"Look, I just want you to know I was joking with Aspen when we came up with this half-assed plan. I had no idea you'd actually agree to do this."
He shrugged. "I need to save my grandfather's business. It was a clear yes for me."
Frustration flickered over her features. "That's what I was afraid of. But I need you to tread carefully. I've seen a ton of broken-up women from your actions, and I don't want Aspen to be the next one."
He blinked. "But that's the job she hired me to do."
Aspen stepped between them. "You need to stop. It will be worth it, and you have to trust me. I'm going into this with my eyes wide open, and your interference will mess it up. Okay?"
Sierra glanced back and forth between them, then finally shook her head. "Not okay. This is a ridiculous plan, and I refuse to politely step aside and watch this disaster unfold."
Now, he noticed Aspen growing hot with anger. The whole awkward conversation reminded him of that time he and Kane experimented with magic mushrooms and thought they'd solved the world's problems regarding plastic. Aspen lowered her voice to a hiss. "Not now. We will discuss this later. I think you're forgetting that I don't need permission to date anyone."
"Around here, you do. I can make things uncomfortable."
Brick winced. Sisters could be vicious and scary. Aspen jabbed a finger in the air. "Don't you dare threaten us. I'm capable of handling my own life."
"Apparently, not."
Brick cleared his throat. "Um—"
Aspen grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the door. "We'll talk tonight when you're more rational. Right now, we're late for dinner."
"You'd better not touch my sister," Sierra threatened. "Or I know where to find you."
Holy shit.
"Thanks for the tea," he managed to say before the door shut behind him. Aspen raced to the car and jumped into the passenger seat in true getaway fashion. He got in and turned toward her. "I guess I flunked the family test."
She chewed worriedly on her lower lip. "I'm so sorry. That was embarrassing. Sierra worries a lot. Just ignore her."
He pressed the button for the ignition and pulled away. "Don't know if I can. Is it wrong to admit she scared me?"
Aspen groaned. "After Mom and Dad died, she tried to step in, so she's bossy. I think she feels guilty that she left me to get married and then all the crap with my ex happened. I promise I'll talk to her later and get her to understand."
He thought about how difficult it must have been for them, losing their parents so young. He had a lot more in common with Aspen than he thought. They'd both been pushed to grow up and make something of themselves faster than most. "Makes sense. Families are complicated." He glanced at her curiously. "I had no idea I was suddenly the big, bad wolf. Did you both really come up with this plan while drinking? "
Aspen winced. "I guess? I remembered it all, but Sierra's always been a lightweight. Where are we going?"
He took her obvious change of subject in stride. "Paper Canoe. Good seafood on the water. Sound good?"
"Sure."
Silence fell between them, but it had a hum of awkwardness. This was new territory, so Brick figured it was probably normal for them to be confused about their role. But he was the one getting paid. He took that shit seriously. It was time to earn his worth.
"You look really pretty." She wore a simple sundress in bright white with little yellow roses. Her hair had been ruthlessly straightened and held a glossy, rich shine as it spilled down her shoulders. Lips painted a rich cocoa brown, her makeup was simple, and her jewelry was understated. The bright scent of floral and citrus danced in the air. She'd made an effort for him, which gave him a pleasant buzz.
She jerked back and then shot him an assessing look. "You don't need to give me compliments as part of the deal."
A half laugh burst from him. "Sorry, I didn't see that in the rules. Are you drawing up a contract that goes over what I can and can't do?"
Her lips pressed together. "No contract. I don't want a paperwork trail. This needs to feel as real as possible."
"You're trusting me enough to keep my side of the bargain, even while you shovel money my way?"
One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. "Yeah."
"Why? What if I was some charlatan who stole your money and didn't try hard with this relationship?" he asked curiously.
"I don't know," she said after a slight pause. "It's a gut thing. You loved your grandfather enough to rebuild the family business. You love the horses. You may suck with women, but you have a sense of honor, so I guess I'm trusting you."
A ripple of satisfaction cut through him, even as he wanted to warn her it was a stupid move. Not many people gave him a chance to prove himself. Aspen had, and it made him feel a bit funny in his gut. He decided to change the subject. "Since there are no stipulations, compliments aren't off the table. I happen to like giving my lovers verbal appreciation."
She shifted in her seat and refused to look at him. "Even if it's a lie?"
"I won't lie, Aspen. I promise. I won't say anything that's not true."
Her head swiveled back around. He felt her heavy gaze on his profile. "What if you need to say it to get me to connect better? In a way, I'm forcing you to lie."
A smile touched his lips. He liked how she thought over things and told him straight out. Aspen didn't seem to do well with game playing, which was funny since she was the one who'd set up the rules for this one. But she didn't give off any vibes of trying to mess with his head. "I'll make you one promise, okay? If I kiss you, it's because I want to. If I put my hands on you, it's because I want to." He swerved into an empty parking space with one quick movement. Then turned toward her so his gaze crashed into hers. The air tightened with tension he was interested in exploring, and suddenly, whether he was getting paid or not, Brick was happy he had time to linger and dive into this strange connection. "And when I say you look pretty, it's because you do."
He smiled, enjoying her surprised reaction and the dilation of her pupils. "We're here. Let's go eat."
This time, he made sure to open her car door and escort her out. He believed in being a gentleman and enjoyed treating his dates with the respect and care they deserved. Usually, he was trying to run off his companions, so it'd been a long time since he'd been able to indulge in some old-fashioned dating protocol. He guided her by the elbow, registering her slight shiver. She was the perfect height for him, even without heels. Brick imagined tucking her into the crook of his shoulder or how their bodies would fit while dancing.
The Paper Canoe was well known for its talented chef, trained staff, and comfortable yet elegant atmosphere. Situated overlooking the water, their table was positioned for a perfect view. Low, romantic music drifted through the speakers. The recited specials were lengthy and varied. He noted that Aspen ordered a lemon drop martini and preferred sparkling water.
She sat back in her chair and gave him a small smile. "Wow. You're trying to impress me."
"It's our first date. First of anything is important."
"Guess so. It's nice, though. Most of my first dates are coffee get-togethers, where we meet in a busy café and see if it's even worth ordering a second cup."
"You live in New York City, though, right? Plenty of opportunities to meet men and date."
She began laughing as if he'd told a great joke. "Trust me, it's brutal out there. A shark fest of happy hours and overcrowded bars or clubs filled with Tinder-seeking hookups. Plus, working from home alone keeps me a bit isolated. I've been known to not change out of my pj's on a good writing week."
The waiter came over, and they ordered fresh oysters and cups of lobster bisque. Aspen went with the grilled mahi mahi, and he settled on the filet mignon. A basket of warm bread with caponata, butter, and extra-virgin olive oil was set between them. She sniffed with appreciation and immediately smothered a slice in butter.
Brick copied the movement. "I've never known a writer before. Tell me about it. Were you always creative?"
She nodded. "I remember always wanting to be a writer. I'd sit in my room for hours with a stack of books and feel transported to another dimension. It became my safe place—the world of imagination all writers offered. I never thought about being anything else, but as I grew up, all I heard were endless people telling me it wasn't a real job and I'd end up broke and regretful."
Brick remembered seeing men in expensive suits rushing to work, disappearing into important skyscrapers with a sense of purpose. He only knew he wanted that feeling. To be important in life. To have money to make a difference or do whatever the hell he craved. When he confessed his secret desire to work at a top Fortune company and make his name well known, his circle happily informed him of all the ways it wouldn't work. "Everyone has an opinion, and everyone wants to share it."
She sipped her cocktail and slicked her tongue across her lower lip to catch the sugar crystals. A sudden urge to lean across the table and taste how the sweetness mixed with her taste punched him in the gut. Knowing he had the right—she was his for the summer—only made the primitive part of him grunt in satisfaction.
"Right. If everyone concentrated on their own dreams and stopped trying to crush others', we'd be a happier society."
He grinned. "Agreed. So, you ignored the advice and pushed through the naysayers to create a successful career?"
She wrinkled her nose. "Not quite. I got day jobs and wrote on the side, but by then, the negative voices had overtaken my brain. I didn't think I had the talent. I enrolled in college focused on writing and literature, thinking I'd have real credentials when I graduated and be able to get a job or get published." Aspen paused, and a shadow flickered over her face, dimming her light. "Some stuff happened. Years passed. But finally, I was able to write a book that a publisher loved. They gave me a big advance, put a lot of marketing into the release, and it hit big. The rest is history."
Yeah, she'd skipped the most important stuff. Namely, what she'd tried to explain in his office about needing to get her heart stomped on again to put it on the page. Dozens of questions skittered through his brain, but he doubted she was ready to crack herself open and share her secrets. Not on the first date. "That's a lot of years of writing and believing in yourself. Not many people have such patience and perseverance."
Her golden-brown eyes flashed with pleasure. "Thank you," she said quietly. "It was tough sometimes to keep believing in myself. Most people see the success and think it was an overnight thing. Like I showed up, got lucky, and should be endlessly grateful that I was picked from oblivion." She rolled her eyes. "Especially from some of the smaller literary circles. God, the Times gave me a terrible review, and I cried for days."
He'd never thought how awful it would be to deal with critics. "Why didn't they like it?"
"Too much melodrama. Which, yeah, it had some of that, but readers were able to connect with the emotion. My next two books didn't do the job of the original. That's the main reason I hired you."
"Because your first book was basically autobiographical?"
She took another sip. Licked her lips. "Yeah, a lot of it came from personal experience, but I wrapped it in fiction, so the truth was blurred."
"Do writers mostly write from experience?"
"I think so. In order to write well, we need to pull pieces of ourselves out and examine them. Twist the ugliness into a story and try to make sense of it. It's a big, broken, emotional process, but in the end, I always hope I've left the world a bit better. By sharing. By being honest."
Emotion tightened his chest at the rawness of her words. He wondered what it would be like to consistently face your demons and use them in a story. To lift the blanket hiding the monsters and allow them onto a blank page, knowing the world would read it and judge you, even if you swore it was fiction. Would he be able to do it?
Probably not.
The waiter interrupted them, dropping off appetizers, and they happily feasted on the oysters and soup, falling into silence. He was used to women filling the air with endless chatter and had never minded. But right now, Brick appreciated her comfort with just being in the moment. She hadn't reached for her phone once to record a TikTok or show off the scenery or the beautifully plated food.
"Do you read?" she finally asked.
"Not really. Only nonfiction. I was one of those difficult teens who skipped English class and made fun of Shakespeare. "
She grinned. "I always say you just never got the right book in your hand. Most dislike the so-called classics. When I read my first romance, I thought I'd reached nirvana. I finally understood the value of an entertainment read and the power of a story focused on female empowerment and pleasure. For others, it's a comic book, anime, or fan fiction. I hate when people are snooty about what they read."
"Agreed." They chatted about books and their experiences in school until the main courses arrived. "Do you ever think about moving here to be with your sister?"
"Sometimes. But I've been in New York my whole life. Sierra followed her asshat ex-husband here and never left. This is her home. I'm afraid I'd never make the Outer Banks mine like I have in the city. I've gotten dependent on food delivery and Task Rabbit and having a store five minutes away, so I don't have to go out much."
He laughed. "You really don't like the outside world, do you?"
She laughed with him. The sound made him want to make her do it again. Like her words, it was loud, bold, and unapologetic. "Not really. I'm a hermit—always have been. Sierra was the one who got the social skills and fashion sense."
"I think you're doing okay for yourself here," he said. "Maybe this summer is exactly what you need to see what you've been missing."
Their gazes met and locked. The air simmered with electricity—a delicious tension Brick hadn't experienced in a long time. Who would've thought Aspen Lourde had the power to surprise him? She wasn't his usual type. She was paying him to be with her. Yet, he was intrigued.
Maybe this job would be much more pleasurable than he imagined.
She was either having a very early pre-menopausal hot flash, or her body was reacting to that lazy, sexy grin by urging her to rip off her clothes to cool off.
So far, this night had been unexpected. She'd figured she would need to work at being interested in conversation with him. After all, her previous attempts had been filled with grunts, rude comments, and stubborn silence. But when Brick Babel put his mind to it, he could charm the literal pants off a woman.
No wonder he was lethal. In just a few short hours, she was buzzing from interesting dialogue, fabulous food, and unwavering attention. She couldn't remember the last time a man had listened like he cared, with full focus. The fact made her a bit sad because…were most women starved for this type of attention? Is that why it was easy to fall for him? Because he knew the secret cravings of women?
Being wanted?
Being seen ?
Aspen tried to remind herself that he was doing it because she was paying him, but it seemed genuine enough and not fake. By the time the check came, and he took care of it with a subtlety that didn't call attention to the gesture, she was a bit buzzy. And it had nothing to do with the alcohol.
It was the first date she'd been on that she actually enjoyed.
God, she was in so much trouble.
But trouble was good. She was on the path to getting invested and then getting hurt. Exactly what she needed.
He escorted her from the table and suggested a walk. They took their time meandering down the boardwalk that twisted around the water. Shops buzzed with customers, and tourists enjoyed ice cream cones, homemade fudge, and lemonade as they flitted about. A little girl with blond pigtails skipped past them, singing a childhood rhyme while her parents tried to keep up. There was a sense of community, even around strangers, that she never got in New York. Aspen was sure he'd walked this route thousands of times and was bored of the same quaint town center, but he seemed content when she snuck a glance at his profile. "Are you happy here?" she suddenly asked.
He shot her an amused look. "You ask a lot of questions."
"I'm nosy. Career trait, I guess."
He took his time answering. The heat settled heavily on her skin and curled her ruthlessly straight hair with wicked glee. They paused under a gnarled oak tree for a bit of shade and stared at the water, rippling under the dying rays of the sun. "I don't know."
She cocked her head. "Explain."
Aspen liked the way his lip quirked and how the skin around his eyes creased when he seemed deep in thought. "I never planned to move here. I grew up in New York and had a different vision for myself. In college, I dreamed of making my way to the executive offices in finance. I'm good with numbers. I liked the drive, the fast pace, and the lure of money."
"You don't seem that type at all," she said.
"I was. Not that I got a chance to try. "
His tone was accepting, but Aspen sensed other emotions boiled under the surface. "Sierra said you were from New York, but I never asked what part?"
"Beacon. It's in the Hudson Valley, about an hour and a half from Manhattan."
"Yes. I was there once on tour. It's such a pretty place by the mountains."
He nodded. "Grew up there. Went to NYU for business. Then returned for a while to help my mother." Shadows jumped in his eyes. "Being a single mom isn't the easiest thing."
Her voice softened. "What happened to your dad?"
"Left when I was born." His shrug held no bitterness. "Can't miss what you never had."
She wanted to dive in with more questions, to pick apart his past and childhood, but Aspen knew it was too soon. She was lucky he'd given her as much as he had when she'd only received half sentences before. "I bet your mom was amazing."
His face cleared, and those blue eyes brightened. "She was. A real firecracker, like Grandpa Ziggy. But she'd made a life in New York and had always wanted to get out of OBX. We visited, though, and I have great memories. Just never expected to inherit Grandpa's tour place."
She mulled over what he'd shared. "You think you'll like it once your grandfather's business is what you envisioned?"
"I'm gonna give it a try." He dragged in a breath and turned. She took her cue that he was done with his part of the getting-acquainted portion of the date. "Want some ice cream?"
She did, but she was a mess when she ate it and wasn't ready to expose that part. "No, thanks. I'm full."
"Then I'll take you home."
She refused to accept the flare of disappointment, so Aspen gave him a big smile and nodded. "I have all the estimates and cost analysis ready to send you," he said, back to business. "The crew is scheduled to come Monday to begin work."
"What are you going to have done?"
"A complete inside renovation. New signage. One new Jeep and repairs on the old one. New computer system. And a healthy marketing budget to do some new techniques I've wanted to try."
She caught an edge of excitement in his words, which made her happy the money would be well spent. "Sounds great. I had no idea tour companies could be so competitive. I see Maleficent's ads everywhere. Is she your main problem?"
He gave a half snort. "Hell, that woman is a menace. She has connections with some of the locals and bought up all the ad space so I couldn't get in. She poaches my customers, too. It took me a while to figure out why I was struggling, but then I found out she was Grandpa Ziggy's nemesis. Some affair gone wrong, I guess."
Suddenly, he stared at her with pure suspicion. "What?" she asked.
"If I break your heart successfully, are you going to change your mind and try to sue me?"
"God, no! You do your job, and I'll be back on top. We don't even have a contract, remember?"
His shoulders relaxed, and he opened the car door for her, then got in. "So, is it specifically the money that drives you to write a bestseller? Or something else?" He pulled out of the lot and onto the congested main road.
Aspen sighed. "I wish it was the money. It seems so much easier to get than this awful, invisible need for attention. To be read. To have your books recommended and shared and buzzed about. To be asked questions by book clubs and receive emails from readers about what it meant for them." Just talking about all the things that filled her up about having a breakout book made her ache with longing. "I could find money anywhere. What I crave is so much bigger."
Startled, she realized she'd leaked out a piece of her inner truth and darkness better kept under lock and key. It wasn't nice to reveal those types of wants. It made her feel needy, selfish, and jealous. But underneath, it was a simple burning desire that she'd been born with.
To be read. To make a difference. Stories changed lives, and being a part of it was etched into her very DNA.
Aspen waited for him to say something derogatory or make fun of her, but he didn't seem to think her words were strange. He just nodded and kept his attention on the road. "Must be nice to feel so much about something."
His remark made her curious. Was there anything in particular he felt passionate about? Did he wish there was? Were intense affairs with women his personal craving? Or was everyone overthinking the reasons, and it was simply a physical need for him? She wanted to ask so many questions, but Aspen was sure she'd reached her limit. Shadows stole the light as he pulled up to Sierra's house. He cut the engine, and they sat together in a growing, tense silence that suddenly crept in and stole all the fun and ease of the evening .
Her fingers curled in her lap. Nerves jumped in her belly. The air seemed to crackle with a growing awkwardness mixed with sensuality, creating an odd energy like oil and water. Aspen cleared her throat. Ugh, she hated ending a date. That looming first kiss always freaked her out. Again, she wished she had Sierra's ability to play it cool and smooth. "Well, that was good. Thanks for dinner." She inched away from him and grabbed at the handle.
"Come by tomorrow. I'll show you the plans and get you the printed files."
She pushed the door open. "Oh. I have a book signing in the afternoon."
"Stop by beforehand."
His casual invite made her realize they were really doing this. They were going to seriously date. Maybe sleep together. And she was paying him to do it because she was so thirsty for a bestseller that she'd sell her own soul to get one.
It was too much. She needed to get out of here. "Sure." She dove out of the car, stumbled on the concrete, and headed toward the porch.
He was beside her in seconds, frowning. "I'll walk you up."
Why was he suddenly so polite? Aspen almost missed his grumpiness and wished he'd just peeled out from the curb and left her alone. Her heart pounded madly in her chest. She felt like she was sixteen again and hoping Tommy Carter would finally French kiss her, but sick that if he did, she'd be terrible, and he'd laugh at her. Thank God Brick couldn't see the rush of heat flooding her cheeks. She muttered an "okay" and flew up the steps, desperate to disappear inside.
He caught her around the waist in one swift move and gracefully spun her around. Her back pressed lightly against the doorframe. Her front was inches from his muscled chest, but he held her loosely as if trying to reassure her he was safe.
Yeah, right .
No woman was safe in Brick Babel's orbit, let alone inches away, where she could smell his clean ocean scent and gaze into lazily amused ocean-blue eyes. "You're nervous," he stated. His husky voice touched all the secret places that had been ignored for way too long.
She blinked and tried to fight through the sensual brain fog. The pheromones drifting from his male aura were off the charts. Already, her skin tingled, and her female bits were warm and…moist.
God, she hated that word, but it was the one that popped into her head .
"No. I just thought the date was over."
That lip quirked again, and in horror, she barely stopped herself from reaching out to touch his mouth, glide her finger across the plump softness. Aspen froze like a fawn staring up at a lion, wondering if she'd be devoured fast or slow. Would he tease her first or sink his tongue into her mouth and just take her all at once?
"I thought we were just getting started," he murmured, reaching up to grasp a lock of hair, twisting the strands around his index finger. His thumb stroked up and down, forcing her full attention to the intimacy of his hand in her hair, the slight tug at her scalp, and the brush of his knuckle barely grazing her cheek. It was the most sensual gesture she'd ever experienced, that first playful touch, his gaze fastened on her face as if watching for every tiny reaction to see if it pleased her…or not.
Her throat worked, but words barely spit out. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing you don't want. But we're on a fast track here, Aspen. There's a lot to accomplish before the end of the summer, and you can't be wary of me. You need to be relaxed, or this will never work."
"Good luck with that."
His low laugh seemed to surprise both of them. A gleam of satisfaction shone from his eyes. "Why? Do I make you uncomfortable when I'm too close?"
"Another loaded question." He leaned an inch closer, his breath a warm caress against her trembling mouth. Holy hell, her body was on fire, aching for anything he wanted to give her. Her nipples hardened and begged for the pressure of that hard chest dragging against them, thighs trembling to experience his foot kicking them apart to step between them, to glide his fingers over her throbbing center. "Are you trying to make sure I get my money's worth?"
Those fierce brows creased in a frown. "I'm making another rule. We don't talk about the money between us again. This is just us now. What we're feeling. What we do." His eyes darkened. "What we want."
His words spiraled in her mind like the Guardians of the Galaxy Disney ride, making her dizzy. She fought for dominance in a shifting world where he held all the control. "I need to know you're not putting on a show. Which is ridiculous since I'm paying you to—"
His fingers gently pressed over her lips while he touched his forehead to hers. "Shhh," he whispered. "The rules, remember?"
Sparks shot around them. A tiny moan tugged from her chest, up her throat, to spill from her lips. His thumb was there to catch it, rubbing with light strokes. He kept talking, spinning a delicate web of sensuality around them. "I want you to get used to my touch because my hands are going to be all over you. I want you to get used to my mouth on yours because once I taste you, I won't be able to stop."
Did she squeak? Did her knees collapse? Heat washed over her, through her, between her legs in an achy trembling need that stripped away all civility and reduced her to a primitive female desperate to be touched.
"I need your permission before I kiss you, Aspen." His gaze pierced hers. "Before I do, know one thing. I don't do fake. I'll kiss you when I want to, and this will be the first and last time I ask for permission."
In complete shock at his raw, sexual words, she stared back helplessly as he stepped in, and the hard bulge of his erection pressed against her thigh. Jaw tight, eyes blazing, he waited, and Aspen had never wanted anything as badly as she wanted Brick Babel in this moment.
The word was a shaky breath. "Yes—"
His mouth captured hers before the sound faded; the warm, firm strokes of his lips an erotic assault that she not only welcomed but begged for. Aspen had been kissed before. Some were good, some were bad, and some were fantastic. But she'd never had a man overtake her with such raw physical energy; an addictive combination of brazenness and care, arrogance and humbleness, all mixed up to tear down any barriers because of a desperate need for more.
His tongue teased the seam of her lips, then sank deep to tangle and play with hers. He tasted of whiskey and sin, making a low hum of pleasure that vibrated through her whole body. Aspen reached up to thrust her fingers into his hair, moaning as his teeth lightly nipped, only to dive back in until her head fell back, her toes curled, and she was ready to rip off her clothes and have sex with him right then on her sister's front porch.
He eased away with obvious regret, murmuring her name as he cupped her jaw, indulging in one last taste until a few inches of space separated them. She gazed at him, half drunk, barely noticing the lust in his eyes and the tight clench of his jaw. The air sizzled, slowed, settled. Her tongue unconsciously reached out to capture the lingering taste of him on her bottom lip. His breathing was ragged as he stared.
Silence ticked.
"Wow."
Another quirk of his lip. This time, she knew how his mouth felt and tasted and would never be safe again. Damn him and his seductive mastery. Damn him for being irresistible to any female with a pulse. "A big word for a writer."
She blinked. "I'm saving them for my book."
This time, he laughed, and she had an impulse to stroke his hair back from his brow, caress his rough cheek, or smile back with stupid giddiness because he was so beautiful, and she'd made him laugh. "At least, you're not nervous anymore."
Aspen shook her head and tried to regain her composure. "Mission accomplished. I can't complain about the methods."
A gentle smile curved his lips. "Good night, Aspen."
Then he left.
She stumbled through the door with one thought.
It was already happening after only one night. She was smitten with Brick Babel.
And Aspen couldn't wait to read what happened next.