Page 55 of Silver Brewer

I hitch Letty up onto the edge of my desk.

“You walked to town? I’m a terrible host.”

“I was getting antsy. Too much energy waiting for you.”

“And how ready are you for me?” I slip my hand between her thighs and palm her over her yoga pants, but it isn’t enough. She tilts up her hips, and I tug down her pants, underwear too. Sliding a finger into her wet center, I find my answer. So ready for me. I rush to undo my belt and lower my pants. “God, you make me do crazy things.” I exhale as I drag myself against her wet folds, readying myself to enter her. She tips back on her elbows, her legs spread wide.

“You make me crazy, too,” she hums, a pleasant sound mixing with her words. I slip into her, and she falls to her back. Her legs hitch up and wrap around my hips, and I lean forward, bracing my hands on either side of her. I thrust up and pull back, setting a rhythm to keep us attached.

“I’m kind of a mess,” she softly says, her hair falling loose of the messy bun as her hands reach above her for the opposite edge of my desk. Papers slip to the floor.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” I say, straining as my pace increases. I slip my thumb between us, watching as I play with her clit while I disappear inside her. “I love to watch this. Watch us.”

I look up to find her eyes bright and intense on me. She licks her lips as if she wants to speak but fights it.

I love you, my heart hammers. Tell me you love me, too.

I shake the thought, falling deeper into her body. Letty closes her eyes, her head tipping to the side as she bites her lip.

“Finish, Letty,” I growl, wanting her orgasm on my desk where I’ll remember her and this moment each time I sit here. Her back arches as she stills. Clenching me brings the result I desire. I let go inside her, feeling free of the hesitation I felt in my home.

Maybe we should just stay in my office.

Maybe I should just get my head together.

+ + +

That evening, we have dinner inside the Blue Ridge Microbrewery and Pub although the festivities are primarily outside. Billy is insanely busy, along with my sister, Mati, working the tent. Charlie’s making his mayoral rounds. Even James and a few of his cronies are present on the outer periphery. But the most important people for Letty to meet are my parents.

George Harrington Jr. is a good judge of character. Elaina Harrington is just judgmental.

“Giant.” My mother breathes out my name as though she hasn’t seen me in years. It’s the same sound of relief she had each time I returned home unharmed. Even when I was harmed, her relief came with the fact I lived.

“And who is this pretty young thing?” my father teases, reaching out to kiss Letty’s cheek. Letty offers it and blushes.

“I’m Olivet Pierson. But you can call me Letty.”

“And you can call me George.” His warm smile eases the tension I didn’t know she was holding in. Her shoulders relax. Was she nervous to meet my parents? I guess I’m anxious as well because I exhale when my mother beams a smile at me.

“She’s lovely,” she mouths as if Letty isn’t present and can’t hear her. They join us for dinner and unknowingly grill Letty, but she takes all their questions in stride. Good thing she likes to chat and doesn’t seem to mind the rapid-fire inquiries coming from my mother.

“Elaina, honey, I think you’ve asked enough. My only question is which beer do you like best?” my father jokes, cutting off my mother when she gets to question thirty-seven in what is clearly an unwritten list of are you good enough for my son? I think I’ll make my own decision, thank you very much, Mama.

“Time for the tent,” I suggest, and we head out to the overcrowded canopy set up between the pub and the bookstore named BookEnds on the opposite street. The covering takes up the first block of Third Avenue.

“Let me introduce you to a few people,” I shout over the volume of beer drinkers slowly getting hammered on Giant Beer. I walk Letty through the crowd, introducing her to Cora Conrad, Mati’s best friend, and Alyce Wright, who smiles without hurt feelings when she sees I’ve got a girl on my arm. I point at James, who nods at Letty, and then we make our way to the temporary bar.

“Billy,” I call out. “This is Letty.”

My brother has streaks of silver in his hair while the scruff on his jaw remains jet black, and we tease him that he must color it. His eyes sparkle when he sees Letty, and he wipes his hands on a rag before coming to the end of the bar and pulling her into a hug. He holds on a second longer than my liking, and I force my hand between them.

“She feels nice,” he teases, and I want to punch him even though he’s only looking to get a rise out of me. He’s my brother, and I know he’d never, ever go after my girl, but I don’t like the thought that some other man might want her too. When I push him back by the shoulder, he chuckles with a gleam in his eyes.

“I see how it is,” he says with a clap of his hands and then rubs them together. Letty laughs, and Billy smiles deeper.

“What’s your flavor, honey? I’ll let you taste anything you like.” The innuendo in my brother’s voice raises the hairs on the back of my neck.

“William Forrest Harrington,” I warn.