Hendrix (Caldwell Brothers #1) by Chelsea Camaron, Mj Fields Page A

I was…?” She covers her face and doesn’t continue.
    “Okay, look, Livi, I enjoyed myself, you enjoyed yourself. It was fucking hot. We’re adults and, Livi?”
    “Yes?”
    I reach over and pull her hand away from her face. “Consent was fucking given.”
    She looks mortified. I laugh, and then the cutest shit happens. She laughs, too. Thank fuck.
    “So, we’ll be okay? You and I working together will be okay?”
    “You tell me.”
    “Well, if I’m reading you right, you don’t think I’m some, um…” A blush creeps over her face. “I’m not a whore.”
    “Neither am I.” I give her a wink then turn to grab the third prime rib out of the fridge. “It’s gonna be dead around here for an hour; you don’t need to stick around. I think you got the answers you were looking for.”
    “Yeah, thanks. But, if you don’t mind, I’d like to hang out. I brought a book, so I could just read.”
    “You like this place that much?” I laugh.
    “It’s warm.” She snorts, covers her mouth, blushes, then reaches in her bag and grabs a book.
    “Your place not warm?”
    She shrugs and doesn’t respond. She simply sits and reads.
    I try to ignore the fact that she is in the room, but I find myself looking at her way too often. Although I notice the book reads Grief on the cover, I make it a point not to engage in a conversation about that topic. Fuck that.
    I’m throwing together the mix as she yawns and stands up off the stool in the corner. “Need help?”
    “No, I’m good.”
    She pulls herself up on the stainless island to sit and watch me. “You don’t use a measuring cup or recipe?”
    “Don’t need to. It’s all up here.” I tap my temple. “Family recipe.”
    “Caldwell secret sauce.” The way she says my name fucks with my brain and makes my dick twitch. Now all I can think is Caldwell secret sauce and how much I want my sauce all over her crazy, pouty, little lips.
    “It’s a rub.”
    “So, you just use your hands? No gloves or anything?”
    Fuck, fuck, fuck , I think to myself. “Yeah.”
    “I’d like to help.”
    I’d like to drag you in the fucking closet, you crazy-ass, sexy, little thing. I think that would help us both. I keep that to myself.
    “Wash your hands and come on over here.”
    She hops down as I stir up the spices, and then she stands beside me.
    “Just grab a handful and rub it around like this.” I show her and she tries, making me laugh. “A little harder than that.” She does it again. “Give me your hand.” I take her hand, turn it over, and sprinkle the dry rub in it. I pull her closer and stand behind her. Then, I turn her hand over and show her how to properly rub beef.
    She looks over her shoulder, holds up her other hand, and smiles. “Both hands like you did?”
    I nod, and then she starts rubbing the beef with her other hand, as well, but she is not doing it hard enough again. So, taking both of her hands in mine, I help her rub down the beef.
    The grit of the rub between our hands only adds to the sensation of my body pressed to hers, her hands in mine, and a table keeping her firmly in place. I am close enough to smell lavender and her clean, natural scent, and now I am half-mast.
    I try to steady my heartbeat and close my eyes. When I open them, she’s staring at me from over her shoulder, her mouth slightly open. She leans against me a little as her head tips up more, and I can’t take it anymore. I lean in, ready to give her what she’s asking for.
    Just as I am about to give in to both our desires, I freeze, hearing before seeing Jagger laughing his ass off from the kitchen doorway.
    Fuck!
     

 
    Chapter Twelve
     
    ~Olivia~
     
     
    I jump back against Hendrix and swear I feel it. It ! His thingy poking me in the back. It makes me laugh, which makes Jagger laugh even harder. I decide an explanation is necessary.
    “Hendrix is teaching me how to do the rub.”
    “I see that,” he says, wiping his eyes. “He told me how to rub meat,