Gift Wrapped (4 page)

“It’s pretty dirty.”

“I work with a kitchen full of guys, most of them young, all of them hornier than thirty-year-old virgins. The waitresses might as well be naked, they get verbally defiled so much. Pretty sure I can handle whatever pops into your pretty head.”

“Wow. I waitressed for years, and I graduated from hospitality management. I can’t believe there haven’t been complaints or disciplinary actions with that kind of behavior.”

“I make sure it stays in the kitchen, and that the waitresses don’t hear it.”

“That’s good.” Her head tilted to one side. “Do you take part in it too?”

“Verbally objectifying attractive women? Not frequently, but sometimes.”

“Oh. Huh. That surprises me.”

Ah, shit. Not good. “I’m no prince.” Things would go smoother if she realized that right now. “I work hard, pay my taxes and hold doors for old people. I’m a good guy, not an asshole. And yeah, I enjoy women. Looking at them, having a good time with them. Then I send them home with a smile that’ll last all week. I won’t guarantee a callback and I don’t do serious relationships.”

The room got way too quiet.

He pushed the cutting board aside and crossed his arms over his chest. “Sorry if that’s not what you were looking for tonight, Brinn. No hard feelings if you want to skip out, before dinner or afterward.”

She sipped her wine in what had to be single drops, it took so damn long. She tipped her head for the last mouthful, then tortured him by licking a lingering bead of moisture from her lips with a slow, deliberate sweep of tongue. “Watching you beat your meat is really hot.”

What the—?

“You told me to spill it.” Her face went from fair to flaming in a matter of seconds.

His kitchen practically echoed, he laughed so loud. “
That
was your dirty thought?” Fuck, she was cute when she blushed. Cute, period. “Babe, stick around awhile and I’ll teach you about dirty.”

“Okay,” she said, shuffling her feet against the gray ceramic tiles.

And now he felt like a dick, warning her off with his don’t-get-clingy speech. Regretting it didn’t mean he’d apologize for it. He was a decent guy who kept things honest. That was more than a lot of men could claim.

“Your feet sore from work today?” All he needed was the little nod she gave. “Then let’s get you off of them.” He lifted her by the waist, smiling at her surprised gasp, and deposited her on top of the island that served as his main prep area in the small kitchen. “Better?” he asked, from his position between her knees.

“Yes.” The hands that’d automatically curled around his neck when he picked her up remained there, lightly stroking his skin. “Um, Davis…”

“Yeah?” His dick surged to attention. It liked sexy, feminine voices with that out-of-breath quality. He didn’t need a woman to scream or talk dirty—though those were certainly welcome. Hitched breath and soft little moans were just as good.

Which of those would Brinn do when he had her turned-on? When he took her up, up, up and over the edge?

He shifted his weight, bringing them closer together. Denim rubbed denim in all the best places. Even through all the layers, there was no missing the heat radiating between her legs.

“Is it okay if I, um…” Long, dark eyelashes fluttered while she shimmied forward, bringing her denim-covered pussy flush against his groin.

Shit, give him the strength not to thrust while she wiggled side to side. “For the record, I’ll say yes to pretty much anything you ask while you’re doing that.”

Pink lit her cheeks and she tried to squirm backward.
Tried.

Faster than she could get away, he cupped her hips to hold her in place. “That wasn’t a complaint. Ask away.”

“May I touch your head?”

A question more people should ask, rather than assuming it’d be okay to buff his shaven scalp with their grimy mitts. “Yeah. Go crazy. Touch anything you want.”

With that invitation, her fingers slid over his skin. She traced his jaw, ran the pad of her thumb over his chin, grazing his bottom lip. The lightest touch, but it made his cock hard as steel.

He kept his eyes on hers, even as she looked away to study the details of his face. Her pretty lips turned down as she stroked the scar beside his right eye. Not a frown of disapproval or disgust. Concern, maybe. Definitely something personal. His gut tightened—no, not his gut—the pull was uncomfortably higher, in his chest.

“I bet this was a nasty gash when it happened.”

“Yeah, took five stitches to close it up. I used to enjoy a good brawl from time to time when I was younger. Got that one from the corner of a mailbox.”

“You were fighting a mailbox?” A small smile returned to her lips. “Who won?”

Cute.
“I won. You should’ve seen the mailbox.”

No reply as her fingers smoothed along his eyebrows, moved higher to the top of his head. Front to back at first, then everywhere. Featherlight and so damn good he had to give in and close his eyes.

“Never stop doing that.”

“Okay.” Minty breath tickled his nose. She caressed every inch of his head, leaning into him until her tits mashed against his chest. “I didn’t expect it to be this soft.”

“Not what a guy wants to hear when a beautiful woman has her hands on him.” The vibrations from her giggle shot straight to his groin. “Believe me, babe, not everything’s soft.” He could prove it to her—catch one of her hands and guide it lower, between their bodies, curl those delicate fingers over his cock. Not yet. No need to rush, they had all night to enjoy each other.

His rough palms refused to slide easily over the clingy material of her top. He found the bottom edge and slid his hand beneath, holding her close while working his way up her back. “Now
this
is soft.”

“Thank you.” Barely a whisper, one that became a gasp when he released the hook on her bra. Then a faint moan as his hands traveled to the sides of her warm, silky tits.

“We’re doing things out of order here,” he said.

“Because we haven’t had dinner first?”

So damn cute. “Because I haven’t kissed you yet.”

“Guess you have two choices, then. You could stop feeling me up and go back to beating your meat…”

He chuckled. “Or?”

“Or you could kiss me.”

Chapter Three

Thank god she hadn’t agreed to make the two-hour drive to her parents’ house tonight. They’d excused her in advance on the basis of work fatigue and probable crappy weather, but in truth, Brinn had simply wanted to be alone. Not answering questions about jackass Liam or her revised plans for the future. Definitely not receiving sympathetic hugs and pitying looks. Ugh.

After being nonstop pleasant during the Christmas shopping season, she’d been done. More done than her mom’s annual overcooked turkey. She hadn’t wanted to be around anyone. Until Davis charmed his way into her store, then her evening.

And now, into her bra.

“Your hands are still under my shirt, so where’s that kiss?” She’d never been this forward with Liam. None of her previous boyfriends either. It was either Davis, low blood sugar, or the fast glass of wine—maybe a combination of all three—but she felt loose and lightheaded. Pleasantly buzzed.

Knowing she’d probably never see Davis again after tonight helped. No need to make a lasting impression. He’d made it abundantly clear he wasn’t looking for more, and head office had already promised her a transfer as soon as one came up. Tonight fell into strictly-for-fun land—a place she’d heard about but never visited.

Davis didn’t give her the kiss she’d demanded. No surprise there, he clearly liked to be in charge. With his muscles, deep voice and smooth moves, he epitomized the whole “alpha male” thing. They could probably put his sweat in a spritzer bottle and it’d be a bestseller.
Guaranteed to drive a woman into your arms at breakneck speed.
He’d certainly had that effect on her.

Instead of kissing her, his warm lips grazed her collarbone. His mouth moved higher, his tongue making patterns where her shoulder joined her neck, nuzzling behind her ear. She half-moaned, half-sighed, letting her head roll lazily to the opposite shoulder.

“You smell great,” he said between kisses, drawing back at her snort to question her with a look.

“Sorry, but all guys say that.”

“To you, I’m not surprised.”

“Not just to me. It’s a guy standard. You all use it and we all know it’s a bullshit compliment designed to get into our pants.”

“Think it’ll work for me?”

“I’m sure it has, many times.”

He laughed. Didn’t bother denying it. Nor should he, he’d disclosed his status and she’d accepted it.

“What if I told you it’s the truth?” he asked. “Would you believe me?”

“I don’t know…it’s a pretty tired, stock line. You’d have to be
really
convincing.” Again with the boldness. Wherever it was coming from, hopefully she could sock some away for future use.

“I’ll give it a shot.” His nose tickled her neck as he inhaled. “You smell great.”

“Oh brother…” Her giggle turned to a startled gasp when he nipped her close to the shoulder.

“I’m all for you saying
my
name. Davis. Whisper it. Scream it. Either’s good. ‘Oh god’ works too. But I’m not sharing you with my asshole brother.”

“Ooh, possessive. Almost makes up for the lame ‘you smell good’ line.”

“Yeah?”

“I said almost. Carry on with the convincing.”

“With pleasure.” Again, he drew a long breath, inadvertently tickling her skin with the tip of his nose. “Are you wearing that perfume you mentioned back at the store? Wait, don’t answer.” Another nuzzle, this one under her jaw, tipping her head back. “No, definitely not perfume. Something sweeter. Fresher.” Instead of moving up to her lips, as she’d anticipated, he headed lower, creating a shivery path that ended at the neckline of her top—in her cleavage. “Here too. So warm and soft.”

She tried not to suffocate him by mashing her boobs into his face, but god. “What happened to convincing me I smell good? Warm and soft aren’t scents.”

“They are for you. When I breathe you in, I imagine how soft your skin will feel when I cover every inch of it with my body. The way you smell makes me think how warm you’d feel, wrapped around me.”

Oh wow. Recycled bullshit…quite possibly. But it was quality bullshit with an excellent delivery. And a delivery guy who got hotter by the second. “Okay, I’m convinced.”

“Good.”

A little shimmy afforded him more space with the girls—an opening he accepted by cupping her breasts and strumming the nipples with his thumbs. Sparks shot from the source, zooming south to where her clit was already engaged in a make-out session with the seam of her jeans and Davis’s bulging fly.

But he still hadn’t kissed her.

“You can tell a lot about a person by the way they kiss.”

“That so?”

She shivered at his words, spoken against her earlobe. “Definitely. After my most recent loser, I know to be wary of men who put more enthusiasm into washing their car than kissing me.”

“He sounds like an idiot.”

“He was. Is.” She rocked side-to-side, subtly manipulating their position for more friction. If she leaned forward the tiniest bit…

He’d counter by pulling back. Dammit. And he had the nerve to chuckle at her frustrated sigh.

“You can also tell a lot by the way people
don’t
kiss.”

“You think I’m not going to kiss you, Brinn?”

“It would seem that way.”

“Do you have somewhere to be?”

“No.”

“Then what’s the rush?” At her lack of response, his hands slid from her breasts. They rested on her waist, softly stroking the skin just above her jeans. “Hoping to get over the carwash guy by kissing me?”

For a self-proclaimed player, he sounded kind of offended by the idea she’d use him that way. And wasn’t that the most ridiculous, self-centered thing? Laughable, if it wasn’t for the whisper of seriousness in his eyes.

“The reason I want you to kiss me has nothing to do with Liam. I got over him the moment I caught him using his dick to massage another woman’s tonsils.”

Davis winced. A wince could mean he felt sorry for her, or it could mean something even worse.

“And to answer the question that’s probably rolling through your sexy, bald head right now—no, he didn’t have to screw around to get his dick sucked.
And
, to answer the
next
question, yes, I’m good at it. Very good, for the record.”

Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god, she’d just bragged about her blowjob skills. To a strange man. In his house. On Christmas Eve. She slapped both hands over her face. “Tell me I didn’t just say all that out loud.”

“That your ex-boyfriend deserves a well-placed kick? Or that you give great head?”

“Oh crap.” Let her shrink into a teeny-tiny Christmas ball and roll out the front door.

“Brinn.” He was smiling. And yes, she was totally peeking through her fingers, but what difference did it make at this point? “Come on, move your hands. No hiding that pretty face.” For a strong man, his touch was gentle as he peeled her fingers free.

“What’s the alcohol content of that wine?”

“Not enough to make you drunk off one glass.”

Seriously, his smile. It was like a drug, relaxing her to a state of looseness she rarely achieved. “Well, so much for that excuse.”

He gripped her hips and pulled her forward. The only thing that stopped her from falling off the countertop was his body, wedged tightly between her legs, forcing the rigid seam of her jeans against her clit. The delicious pressure took her dangerously close to the point of no return. She shut her eyes and held her breath, regrouping. Willing her body not to move. Not to have an orgasm
before
he got around to kissing her.

Composure regained—mostly—she opened her eyes. Davis’s hazel ones waited. With a naughty grin, he rolled his body, a wave-like motion that made the hard fold of denim rock back and forth across her clit. He’d missed the silent memo about being good, about staying still. Wrong. He knew how bad off she was—it was there, in his eyes. No doubt her ramped-up arousal was written all over her face.