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“More like pre-college. I’m catching up on some basic requirements before I start Vet-Tech school in the fall. Right now I’m working part-time at the Haven Cat Rescue to earn credits.”
His brow furrowed. Amazing that she even noticed when the dude was standing there with his impressive schlong about eight inches from her face. “You work for Vic, too, right? Interior designing or whatnot?”
She nodded. “Lots of whatnot. I considered making that my major, but those scholarships are hard to get.”
His grin took her off-guard. “No wonder you didn’t want to spend time with me. You don’t have any. School, two jobs, all that sex goddess training…” He leaned down to brush his mouth over the top of her head. “Though I think you’re well on your way there.”
“Well, I don’t want the condoms to go to waste,” she muttered as he retreated into the bathroom.
The next time he emerged, he was fully dressed—dammit—and smelling sinfully minty and fresh. His wet hair skimmed the collar of his shirt, which increased the green of his eyes to stun-level. “Oh, they won’t,” he murmured, dropping another quick kiss on her hair as he passed.
It took her a second to get his meaning, though when she did—oh, right, not letting the condoms go to waste—she had to bite the pillow to keep from making an inappropriate comment. Like, hey, feel like swinging into an open bay right now?
“Monday night,” he said meaningfully, rapping the wood above her bedroom doorframe. How easily he reached that high wasn’t even sexy. She swore it wasn’t. “Be ready for me.”
?
?Don’t think that’ll be a problem,” she said under her breath. Heck, she was ready right now.
“See you.” He flashed her that killer smile. “Don’t work yourself too hard. Leave that up to me.”
“See you,” she echoed weakly.
She dropped back into her thoroughly mussed bedding and stretched her arms over her head. She had to admit the possibility of more sex worked for her. Seriously worked.
Rising, she pressed her thighs together and winced. Maybe it was just as well that he’d taken his big, hungry toy and gone home. Her toolbox needed a rest.
Later that afternoon, she headed out to her shift at the shelter. Halfway to the lot, she realized her car was still parked at Triple Threat. Lovely.
Then she noticed her vehicle tucked in a corner spot. What the hell? She opened her purse and found her keys and the folded paper beneath them. Bryan’s cramped handwriting filled the page.
Yeah, I went in your purse to borrow your keys. Yeah, I drove your car back here without your permission. Sue me. Ever heard that phrase drive it like you stole it? Guess I’m still high on the thrill of stealing you for a night. And driving you.
She couldn’t help but blush, and she couldn’t fight the smile that cracked her cheeks as she texted him a quick thank you.
So Bryan Townsend could occasionally be sweet. Who’d’ve thunk it?
…
Sunday meant studying and another shift at the shelter. By the time Monday rolled around, she’d stopped thinking about Bryan every minute. Mature, sex-having woman that she was, she’d moved on to dwelling on him every other minute.
And if so much as her toes flushed when she laid eyes on Bry’s sister as she walked into Vic’s home-based interior design studio, she was certain it was only because she was overtired. She wasn’t embarrassed by the fact that she’d had intercourse with her best friend’s brother. That would be ridiculous, especially for a liberated, independent woman of the world like herself.
“Whoa.” Vic turned her cell toward her shoulder. “You did it!”
“Huh?” Jill glanced down at her sedate navy suit with its cute boxy jacket and work-appropriate-length skirt. “I didn’t do anything. What is it you think I did?”
She could just hear Vic’s answer now. My brother.
Vic held up a finger and spoke in soothing tones to whomever she’d called, probably Ms. Travers. She was rehabbing her old fixer-upper, and the woman never stopped fretting.
From her small desk a few feet away, Vic’s other assistant Lorelie continued typing. “Muffin?” She jerked her chin at a white bag.
Jill hurried across the room. “Sure. I could eat.” If only her stomach would stop rolling. No one could tell she’d gotten laid. She wasn’t wearing a sign.
Vic hung up and rushed around the desk. “Oh my God. You dirty dog. You totally got nailed.” She charged forward to hug Jill, nearly causing her to lose her blueberry muffin. “Why didn’t you call?”
“I only saw you Friday. Plus you were a little busy.” She would just ignore the nailing comment for the time being.
