Chapter 16

Jamie

If you'd asked me which guy could have me confessing my frustrations about Mum in one second and gorging on delicious pizza in the next, I wouldn't have pointed to Brock, but here I was. All family troubles were shoved aside as a symphony of carbs, dairy, meat, and vegetables had a party in my mouth. I let out an involuntary groan, which was super embarrassing considering what we'd been up to before. Yep, that was confirmed when Brock stopped eating to stare.

"Sorry, Millie says you can't take me anywhere," I said. "But damn, this pizza is good."

His lips curved into a smile.

"Oh, I'm not complaining. I mean I like to hear a girl make that sort of sound when I'm on a date, but usually a little later."

I ducked my head, but that didn't stop me from taking another piece. Brock saw my reticence and started piling food onto my plate. A different kind of pizza, garlic bread, those cool rice balls things. He kept going until I was forced to stop him.

"You should be filling your own plate." I nodded to his empty one. "I mean…" My lips still stung from the kisses he'd given me. There was something so fucking brutal about him. Brock seemed to storm in and claim whatever he saw as his and that was hot. "You're going to need your strength, right?"

"I was fairly sure you were never going to touch me again after I started asking questions," he said, grabbing his own slice, but right as he took a big bite, my hand slid down, cupping him under the tablecloth. His eyes went wide and he was forced to chew furiously as he coughed and spluttered.

"Oh no, that's still happening. You've been walking around the workshop looking like lumberjack porn for too many years for me to say no."

"Yeah?" His reply was ruined by his hoarse voice. He was forced to grab his drink and down a big mouthful. "That's what you've been thinking? You kept that quiet."

"Oh yeah, men with their shirt sleeves rolled up." I ran a tentative finger up his forearm, only for him to flex his muscles. "The whole grumpy thing with the beard." His eyes narrowed as I ruffled my fingers through it like someone might pet a cat. "I had thoughts. What about you?"

I felt like I had my arse hanging out in the wind right now, making myself vulnerable, but when I went to look away, he tipped my chin upwards. Those pale-brown eyes sparkled as he smiled.

"If you had any idea of what I thought about doing to you." His voice was a low growl. "Not when you were my apprentice, but… that little desk scenario you described?" Suddenly I could see it, me crawling under the desk, sliding his zipper down and fishing out his hard cock as someone knocked on the door. Him telling them to come in, even as his hand went to the back of my head. He'd feed his dick past my teeth, swallowing a hiss as he talked business with the visitor, every muscle flexing as I swallowed him deep. Then he'd start rocking his hips, unable to just let me go to work. "Well, for me it went a little different."

"Yeah?" I pushed my plate aside, but he just stared at it meaningfully. Forced to pick my pizza up again, I munched on it as I listened to him recount his fantasy in a low, ragged voice.

"You, coming up to my office for some reason. That's always vague, the details never mattering, but you'd…" His eyes burned into mine. "You'd stop talking about some car or that we need more oil or whatever and you'd see it."

"What?" I barely whispered that.

"How much I wanted you and you'd feel the same." His wish was granted right now, my thighs moving restlessly under the table. "That you couldn't spend one more minute just standing there, not when you could be with me. I'd cross the room to get to you and you'd meet me halfway. When we came together, it'd be like a car crash: explosive, life changing, something you'd be lucky to walk away from."

I shook my head, unable to believe what he was saying.

"I'd get to peel off those fucking overalls, drag away that ratty t-shirt you're always wearing." It was one of my brother's old Guns N' Roses t-shirts. "Wiggle those jeans down over an arse I've spent far too long staring at and then shove all the paperwork and my laptop to one side."

I saw them falling in a flurry, covering the floor of his office.

"I'd set you on the edge of my desk, thighs apart, showing me all of your secrets and then I'd spread you open." His words were crude, delivered hoarsely, and yet there was a kind of poetry to what he said. "Right before I devoured you. My face buried in your cunt, your hands in my hair, urging me on, just as you started to scream. The guys, clients, the whole damn block would hear me making you…" He swallowed hard. "Making you come all over my face."

My mouth was dry from hanging open, because what he described both painted a perfectly vivid picture and was so completely different than what I imagined was going on behind his eyes when we talked in his office.

But I wanted it.

Exactly as he said. Well, maybe not the screaming part. God, I'd never live that down, but?—

"How're we doing over here?"

Our heads jerked around like a couple of guilty children caught with their hands in the lolly jar. I blinked, trying to come up with a response and failing, not while I had that scenario playing out inside my head.

"Food is amazing, but we've probably ordered a bit much for the two of us," Brock replied smoothly. "Can we get the rest to go?"

"Of course."

And so we walked out of the restaurant toting bags of food that Brock tossed in the back of his car.

"I had plans," he told me as we stood there, the night breeze tugging at my hair. "A walk down the beach. A discussion of how we wanted this to go."

"I went down the beach with Hayden," I replied. Was that a faint frown I saw? "It's totally overrated. Windy, sand gets everywhere…" A smile soothed that away.

"I'll be sure to tell my baby brother that you hate the beach. He'll take that as some kind of personal insult."

"Whereas this car…" I smoothed my hand down the finely polished panel. "This is dead sexy. Wanna get in the back and make out?"

"I am too fucking old for fooling around in the backseat," he growled. "And what I've got in mind will require a lot more space than that." Brock grew serious, staring into my eyes. "You good to come back to my place?"

I'd been there for Christmas parties and occasionally to drop off time-sensitive paperwork, but nothing like this. It felt like it had a weight to it, his intent gaze, but this was just like fake dating. We both had a need, an itch to scratch, and if he wanted to do that in the comfort of his own home, I was down.

"Sure."

Which is how I came to be sitting in the passenger seat side of his car, watching the colours of neon lights trace the lines of Brock's face. Was this a mistake? We had to get up in the morning and head to work, and while the others thought we were together, we weren't. What would it be like, listening to my boss bitch me out when I made a crucial error, only to have a memory of what his face looked like when he came tucked away in the back of my mind? All sensible thoughts, but they got shoved aside when he caught me staring. One small smile and my decision was made. If things got awkward, I could get another job somewhere else, so when he opened my door for me, I stood up and moved into his space.

We performed this strange kind of dance, kissing, touching, grabbing at the other person, right up until we reached his door. I got a smile and then he pulled out his keys, unlocking the front door.

Something else was opened up along with it. I didn't have to worry about the guys at the garage, Brock's neighbours, not even Millie right now. Just him, my heartbeat. So I let it lead me forward, pressing him against the wall, his head knocking a framed photo of his family as I pushed his shirt up and then made quick work of the buttons. Tattoos, muscles, a smattering of dark hair, my fingers touched it all, only to zero in on one piece of artwork. I frowned as I traced the shape of the car.

"A ‘73 Holden HQ GTS?" I said, noting its lines. It was surrounded by a stylised ball of flames.

"Only you'd identify the make and model of my bloody tattoo," he said, taking my hand and leading me deeper into the house. I watched the way his shirt flared out around his ribs, revealing the taut muscles of his back. "But I didn't bring you here to talk cars."

More tattoos appeared and disappeared behind the shirt until he dragged me into his room. His hand went to turn the lights on, but I stopped him. The darkness was soft, the moonlight streaming in through the windows more than enough for me to see. In the night, he wasn't my boss, Brock, or Millie's brother. Instead, he was a hard-bodied demon who's mouth tasted bitter from beer and sweet from him. I tugged his head down, kissing him as I smoothed his shirt back off over his shoulders.

"Time to get this bloody top off," he growled, his hands going to the hem.

"You don't like it?" I asked, staring at the black cotton in confusion. It was quite plain, but the fabric was soft and nice on my skin.

"Oh, I like it way too much." His hands moved slowly, tracing the lines of the top. "Soft fabric, loose, but that just makes it drape over these." I jolted when I felt his hands cover my breasts, my nipples feeling like they were trying to burrow their way out of my bra to get to him. "You think wearing oversized clothing hides your breasts, but it doesn't. I see them all too well."

Any response I might've made was cut off as I felt his thumbs brush against my nipples. Instead, I let out this little hiss of pleasure. Somehow I was so damn sensitive, my body freaking primed. Because it'd been so long, I assured myself, that had to be it. I jerked my shirt up and over my head, then went to flick my bra clasp open when his hands covered mine.

"So I guess seeing them in the flesh would be no big deal then?" I said with a shrug, only to be met by a grin.

"Yeah, it's no big deal. My dreams come true all the time."

"Must be a Thursday," I joked, but it was choked off as he undid my bra. My underwear falling away, the cool air caressing my skin just before he did, had me pressing into his hands. I wanted, needed more. He nodded as if sensing just that, then pulled me closer.

I was getting lost in a sea of sensation. His fingers finding my nipples and then teasing those already tight points harder. That woody cologne filling my nose. My hands raking over a body that didn't seem to have an inch of softness in it. Muscles flexing, lips parting mine, our tongues tangling, right as his fingers pinched down. Pleasure with just a little zing of pain, I could tolerate it for a little while before pulling away with a growl.

"I ate my dinner and sat in the restaurant like a good girl." My hands went to his belt. "Now I'd like my dessert please."

"Jamie, no, I…"

He was struck dumb as I undid his zip and eased my hand in, pulling his boxers to one side and finding him. Hard, hot and gloriously thick–I cheered mentally. I was gonna feel every damn inch of him going in. I peeled his jeans down as I started to drop to my knees, but he stopped me.

"You'll get your dessert," he said in a low rumble, tearing the rest of my clothes off until I was standing there naked. His eyes felt like lasers in the dark, tracing my entire form, right before he picked me up and threw me down on the bed. I let out a little laugh as I bounced on the mattress, but that trailed away as he tugged me to the edge. Legs pushed wide I couldn't help but remember exactly what he'd said.

"Ready?"

His eyes glittered in the darkness, my demon lover.

"I was born ready," I replied with a grin.