Every part of my body was relaxed.
No way I’d be comfortable with the hulking beast of a man on top of me if I wasn’t practically boneless right now.
Not that I wanted him to move.
I might be on the verge of suffocation, but it was worth it for the full-body, skin-on-skin contact I was currently experiencing.
For a man who had a lot of rough edges, Bain’s skin was velvety soft. And he was ridiculously warm and yummy. Yes, we’d gotten sticky and sweaty, but with Bain, sticky and sweaty was delicious.
Also, confession: he wasn’t actually suffocating me. I wasn’t sure how he’d managed it, but most of his weight wasn’t resting directly on top of me.
Basically, it was perfect.
He was perfect.
Huh. I guess this was what bliss felt like.
Part of me—the part that couldn’t forget how easily a man had shattered my heart—thought maybe this was just the difference between a battery-operated orgasm and one delivered by an actual man.
Bain interrupted that unfair thought with an audibly deep breath. I thought he was asleep, but clearly not.
“Are you smelling my hair?” I was sure he was, and why was it so hot?
“Fuck yes.” He inhaled again, like he could get high off my scent alone.
That. That was why it was so hot.
“What do I smell like?” It didn’t occur to me how weird that question was until too late. But once the words were out there, I didn’t want to take them back. I wanted to know.
He smelled like smoke and sweet spices. Like cinnamon and sex. And if he had such an identifiable scent, then maybe I was the same for him.
“Like heaven,” he replied without removing his nose from where it was buried. I had to have serious sex hair by this point.
Like heaven was kind of generic, but it was a sweet sentiment.
He inhaled again, and his chest expanded. His voice low and oddly intense, he said, “Pure and sweet. Like the air above the clouds.” He inhaled again. “And cherry blossoms, but that’s your shampoo.”
Wow.
Not generic. At all.
He thought I smelled like the air above the clouds.
What was left of my heart melted a little. I didn’t have a clue what it meant. Maybe some kind of opaque metaphor that I wasn’t entirely understanding. Or maybe like how companies labeled certain scents “linen” or “cotton” even though neither linen nor cotton had any kind of specific scent.
But who cared? It was probably the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to me. And coming from Bain, intense and fierce, not remotely poetic Bain, it made me feel warm all over and melty inside.
He kissed the sensitive spot just under my ear. “I’m sorry, but I have to get up.”
I squeaked, because as he spoke, he shifted and moved. Inside me.
And he was still really hard.
As he withdrew his huge cock from my delicate lady bits, I could tell that I was going to be tender. Which made me blush.
Which Bain noticed. He smirked right before he walked away and disappeared into the private bathroom in the corner of his office.
I tried not to drool, but that ass… Two taut globes that teased me as he strolled the few feet to the bathroom. Bitable, lickable, gropable.
He reappeared before I could make my postorgasm brain work properly and get off the sex couch.
I’d been too wrapped up in watching him to consider moving. The ease he displayed walking through his office in broad daylight without a stitch of clothing was enviable.
I wanted that.
To be that comfortable in my skin. To walk around naked without wondering what bits were jiggling, who might see through a window, if I should be worried about being naked.
To be confident that I was enough—and not too much—just as I was.
And for the first time since I’d broken up with William, I realized that my relationship with him perhaps hadn’t been as healthy as I’d thought.
Minus the cheating. The cheating was messed up and indicative of deeper troubles, and I’d obviously known that as soon as I saw Susie riding his dick. But beyond that, I hadn’t been so self-conscious of my body before we’d started dating—and I’d practically been a virgin then.
These were my thoughts until they weren’t because there was a gorgeous semihard cock in my face.
Lord above, I still wanted to suck it.
As I watched, I thought he might be getting bigger. Which just wasn’t possible, because a guy needed time between…didn’t he?
Then again, Bain killed the curve on just about everything else. Why not his refractory period as well?
Heaven help my tender coochie, because I wanted to have sex with him again.
And he was definitely getting harder.
And I was staring at his cock like a complete pervert.
I dragged my gaze away—no easy task, because it was just so pretty; how could a cock be pretty?—only to discover he was watching me watch his dick. And the whole thing greatly amused him.
I also realized that he was holding a washcloth.
Now that I wasn’t fixated on his pretty cock, he knelt next to the sex sofa. He kissed my hip bone and then gently used the warm washcloth on my tender bits.
Probably an ice pack would have been more appropriate, but this felt better.
The tenderness of his touch and thoughtfulness of the act had my eyes burning.
I opened my eyes wide and thought about unpleasant things—because I would not be touched by his actions. I would not cry sentimental tears.
There was no future for me and the godlike creature currently tending to my lady parts. None at all.
And like magic, there went my squishy feelings and the sentimental waterworks that had been brewing.
No future. Maybe another bout or two of ridiculously amazing sex, but nothing more.
That was depressing as hell.
We couldn’t be more different. Me, with my bookkeeping job, drawer of battery-operated boyfriends, and value pack of batteries. Him, with his gym-commercial body, almost-better-than-sex whiskey, and infinite pool of ready-to-screw Susies.
I looked up to find Bain still nude and scowling.
“Why did you come here?” he asked.
“Way to make a girl feel welcome,” I mumbled as I scrambled for my dress.
“I’m happy to make you feel…welcome as many times as you like.” His scowl had disappeared, replaced by a cocky grin.
I squinted at him as I tied my dress. Was he messing with me? Except—I glanced down—no, he absolutely wasn’t, because there was that pretty cock of his and it was fully hard and ready for action. Daaaamn. “Um…Not right now, thank you.”
His grin widened. “Now that I’ve made it clear I’m at your disposal whenever—however—you like—”
Wait, what? Whenever? However? Yikes. My coochie might be tender, but I wasn’t dead down there. And now I was all wet and hot and bothered.
He snagged his jeans off the ground and slipped them on, forgoing underwear. That didn’t seem safe. Not at all. Not with that monster cock of his all hard and—
Praise the lord and Bain’s generously endowed, gorgeously ripped body, I was gonna jump on top of him if I didn’t get my mind out of the gutter.
“Maybe you can tell me why you came to the distillery. You said that the man from the bar was at your office, and then…” He tipped his head.
“You ravished me?” I supplied.
He raised his eyebrows. “Did I?”
I chewed on my lip as I considered his question. Yes and no. Sure, he’d ravished me in the sense that he’d fucked me thoroughly and well. He’d taken his time and made me come like I’ve never come before.
But ravished? Not even a little if one were to consider that he did all of that after I begged to have his cock inside me.
Hmm.
He looked amused.
Since I was a grown woman who had literally been looking to get laid the night I met him, there wasn’t any reason to either be coy or feel any sort of shame about the amazing sex we’d just had.
“Fine. I was begging for it, it was amazing, and I’d like to do it again.” But then I remembered that I hadn’t gotten a chance to taste him, and I really, really wanted to. “With some minor modifications.”
It didn’t occur to me that my comment might sound like a criticism of his godlike sex skills until I heard the words. There was absolutely no disapproving on my end.
Before I could retract my statement, he flashed me a super sexy grin. “I’m intrigued.” Just as quickly, he turned serious and intent again. “But not until after you tell me about the visit from the rat.”
Mole, but really, was there any difference?
I sighed. I got some scary protective vibes from Bain. Like my dad plus Thom times about a thousand.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him everything that happened. I shivered, remembering how uncomfortable Sal made me feel.
“Did he touch you?” The grumbly, growly scrape of his voice made me shiver, but his glowing eyes…
“What is happening to your eyes?”
After a slow blink, I was looking at Bain’s intent green eyes. Definitely not glowing.
Bain also had a mildly curious look plastered to his face. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
That wasn’t suspicious. Not at all.
I looked at the whiskey glass—almost entirely full—still on his desk.
Bain saw my glance and interpreted its meaning, because he crossed the room to his desk, grabbed the glass, and finished the stout pour in two gulps. “Nothing in this but whiskey.”
Not that I really believed that Bain would drug me.
Then again, I hadn’t a clue that William was screwing around on me, so my judgment clearly wasn’t always great when it came to men.
I cleared my throat. “I’d still like that whiskey, please. And no, Sal Green did not touch me. Not even close. He’s a disgusting, vile human being, but he didn’t dare lay hands on me.” Again. But best not to poke that nest of scorpions.
After pouring and delivering a new drink, he said, “What aren’t you telling me?”
I lifted the glass and inhaled the scent of the whiskey. There was no doubt in my mind. It smelled just like Bain. And not in a fleeting, here-and-gone way. He had to bathe in the stuff. Or maybe he had a line of whiskey colognes that I missed as I’d hurried through the lobby earlier.
I inhaled again. I could practically get high off this stuff. It reminded me a little of how Bain had been huffing my hair earlier. Umkay, I was being weird. I stopped snorting whiskey fumes and took a sip. So good.
I opened my eyes. I hadn’t even realized I’d closed them, but it made sense since I’d been lost in the aroma of the whiskey…and Bain.
Bain was patiently waiting for me to continue my story.
“One peep out of you and I’ll…” I couldn’t think of a good consequence. I didn’t have any hold over the man in front of me. “I’ll be annoyed,” I finished lamely.
He returned to the seat behind his desk and sat. He should look ridiculous seated behind his formal wooden desk, all bare-chested and with his sex hair, but he was simply too attractive. Those abs, his shoulders, that jaw, his eyes… No, he couldn’t be ridiculous or out of place even if he tried.
Since he wasn’t speaking, per my instructions, I sank into one of the two seats in front of his desk. “Sal made a few inappropriate comments. I called security. He left.”
Bain’s jaw clenched and there was a fierceness to his expression that was a little scary, but he didn’t say a word.
“And he smelled me.” It seemed a weird thing to mention, but also, maybe relevant?
A low grumble started in Bain’s chest. I narrowed my eyes, channeling Gran’s you-better-not-be-doing-that-thing-I-told-you-not-to-do stare. His growl stopped as abruptly as it had begun.
“He also said…” I had to think back. I really should have written it down. “Something about how I was fair game. And then he started talking about someone else, I think he had to mean you. He said you’re a relic. That part I remember, but really, it’s a weird word for a guy your age.”
I paused in case he wanted to offer his age. I was a teensy bit curious. Bain didn’t look more than early-, maybe mid-thirties, but he’d also created a small but successful whiskey distillery, so I could be guessing on the young side.
When he didn’t illuminate me immediately, I realized that he was still on his best behavior and waiting for me to finish my story.
“Right, so the next part makes even less sense. He said that people like you don’t have any power over him. No. That’s not right. It was that your kind don’t have power over his.”
I was rather proud of myself for remembering all of that. But if I expected a pat on the back from Bain, that wasn’t happening any time soon.
He was on his feet pulling the rest of his clothes on.
And when he was done, he threw my shoes at me. Gently and one at a time, but still.
Good thing I caught them, because they were really cute shoes. The ones I’d been wearing when I met him, actually.
I clutched them to my chest, remembering how he’d stepped in and handled Sal. I hadn’t asked. In fact, I’d been prepared for a frontal assault on mole man’s twig and berries. In retrospect, I realized that Sal was more than the pervy bully he appeared to be. I probably didn’t want to know what would have happened if Bain hadn’t intervened.
“I’m out of the office as of now.” Bain’s instructions to his assistant over the intercom system pulled me back to the present.
Nothing too terribly odd in him taking the afternoon off. Probably.
When she asked about a meeting later today, he told her to reschedule it as he pulled on his shoes and socks.
To reschedule all of his meetings.
That wasn’t concerning. Nope.
But when she asked how long he’d be out, and he replied, “Indefinitely,” I couldn’t avoid the truth.
The shit had hit the fan.