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He stepped away and went about pouring his cup of coffee as though I wasn’t so wet that my panties weren’t soaked and in desperate need of another washing.
Standing there for a long minute, I wondered if he was going to touch me again, but he didn’t. He collected his coffee and went to sit on one of the stools, eyeing me the whole time.
When I finally moved, it felt as if I was floating. I had no idea I could be turned on so much.
Focus on anything but the desperate need to have this huge man fuck me.
I finished making breakfast, but eating was a struggle. I’d admitted something I’d never have admitted to anyone else. I wanted him, desperately, without reason.
Every time I’d catch him looking at me, I’d blush and crave to touch him. He made a primal sound as he finished his plate of food, and it made me think of the way he’d groaned in the shower as he came, the way he’d said my name, and I felt as if I was about to just burst.
I got up to rush out of the kitchen. Shame burned through me. I was acting as though I’d never had sex and was a dog in heat and could only imagine what he thought of me. I knew it was only a moment of doubt, but I couldn’t help it. If he’d been offended or thought I was awful, he wouldn’t have admitted to knowing I was there as he jerked off this morning. He wouldn’t have done what he did in the kitchen.
I rinsed a washcloth off with cold water and pressed it to my face, trying to cool down the embarrassment that had overcome me as a red heat on my face.
When I went back out, he was busy cleaning up. Going to my room to cool down and catch my breath, I tried my phone again. If there was a signal, I might be able to get out of there. Although the snow was falling thick and fast, so much so, I couldn’t even see the road. I wasn’t going far, that was for sure, even if the signal did come back on my phone.
I made lunch and dinner since he’d been kind enough not to kick me out in the snow. We sat at the table for dinner, a glass of white wine on each side of the table. I sipped mine but gulped down the last two mouthfuls when my plate was empty.
“You should open up a cafe or restaurant. Your dishes are scrumptious.” He placed extra emphasis on that last word, dropping his gaze to my lips. Was he flirting with me?
“I-I don’t have the first clue how to run a business, though I used to hold dinner parties for my friends at my grandma’s place. I loved watching them get so much pleasure out of something I created.”
“I admire that you found your passion. Some people go through life never finding that one thing that makes them glow. I can tell cooking is that for you.”
“Thanks.” He had this way of saying things that made me smile and feel great about myself. “What about you? What’s your thing?”
He shrugged, then collected the empty plates from the table. “I’m still searching for it. Anyway, how about a movie?”
“Sure,” I answered, noting how quickly he dodged my question and how little of himself he revealed.
We’d just chosen a holiday comedy movie when a trilling sound made me look around the room.
“What’s that? Is your phone working?”
“It’s just the two-way radio I sometimes use to keep in touch with some of my… employees,” Brick answered nonchalantly.
My passion cooled a little over the way he’d paused over the word employees. Then I thought about the weapons cache I’d found.
“Can we use it to get a tow truck up here?
“Yeah, once the roads are cleared, we can,” he murmured, not looking at me as he went to pick up the radio and switch it off.
“Why are there so many weapons in your house?” I asked with a wince. I hadn’t meant to let the words out, but with him not sharing anything about himself and me so horny, I forgot where I was, and reality came crashing down on me. For all I knew, he was a crime boss on vacation.
“Because I’m not exactly a nice guy, Amelia,” he said in a deep voice. “I have enemies, and I might need the weapons.”
“Oh.” I was too stunned to say anything else, but my thoughts were spinning out of control with scenarios and possibilities of who exactly Brick was and what I’d got myself into.
Was he a drug dealer? Worry knotted in my back muscles at the thought because I had enough crap in my life without getting involved with a criminal.
“Um. What is it exactly that you do?”
He breathed deeply, then twisted to look at me, a stoic expression settling over his features. I guessed he was perfect at holding a poker face and hiding his emotions.
“I can’t really go into it. Maybe another time, okay? Let’s just watch a movie and forget about this stuff.” He tried to brush off my concerns, but that just worried me more.
Jason used to do that, brush off my concerns, and I wasn’t having it from a guy I barely even knew.
