today?” she asked.
He speared a hunk of ham. “I guess Mondays are slow, so I’ll probably work in the office, do inventory, at least until the happy hour crowd shows up.”
“I oughta work in the office today too,” she admitted, “but I’ll probably do it later tonight.”
“You could bring your office work over here and we could do the drone work together.”
Willow rolled her eyes. “We’d never get a lick of work done.”
“And that’s what makes the idea all the more appealing.”
“You are a bad influence on me. Bribing me with food. What’s next? Sex?”
“Uh-huh. I’m thinking about bending you over the table and having my wicked way with you before you race off.”
Her fork froze midair. “Blake West.”
He grinned when he realized she hadn’t said no. “Besides, you’re already late, what’s another half hour?”
Willow slowly set her fork down. She shoved her plate to the middle of the table. Wiped her mouth with a napkin and pushed to her feet. She started down the hallway.
“Hey, Will? Where you goin’?”
She whirled around. “To get a condom. You’d better hurry and finish eating so you can clear the table before I get back.”
Blake lost his appetite, his train of thought and any chance he’d finish with her in thirty lousy minutes.
Willow was dead on her feet. She hadn’t worked a full nine-hour shift, but she had tried to make up for lost time once she’d hit the jobsite.
Three hours late.
Lord. Blake’s half an hour of playtime had stretched into two hours. By the time he’d coated her body with syrup, licked it all off and taken his own sweet, sticky time making love to her, they’d both needed a shower.
Once Willow was faced with soaping Blake’s big, hard body and bulging muscles, well, racing off to work had been the dead last thing on her mind. She’d worked over one big, hard muscle in particular until he’d whimpered.
Yes, that shower had been refreshing in oh-so-many ways.
Still…she was tired. No sleep, indulging in more sex in the last two days than she’d had in her entire twenty-five years tuckered a girl out. She had every intention of driving straight home and snuggling between her sheets.
So why did she find herself cruising down Main Street?
Because the man was like a damn drug.
She inched past LeRoy’s Tavern. Holy moly. The place was hopping for a Monday night. Mandy was probably raking in killer tips.
I don’t work on Mondays.
If Mandy wasn’t around that meant Blake was doing everything by himself.
Willow hit the brakes, spun a u-turn and bumped into the rear parking lot. The back door was unlocked. Her clothes were filthy. She pulled one of Mandy’s extra blouses from her locker and slipped on the denim skirt she’d had in her duffel bag, ignoring the teasing scent of cherries. After she scrubbed her hands, she headed up front.
Blake was inundated.
Even a Boy Scout needed a little help now and then.
He didn’t acknowledge her until she’d sidled up beside him. “What do you want me to do?”
“Will? What’re you…?” Blake ran the back of his hand across his face. “If you’d handle the bottled beer that’d be great. Happy hour prices are two bucks domestic, three bucks import.”
“Got it.” Willow let out a wolf whistle. The noise in the bar dropped a level. “If you’re looking for bottled beer, the line forms here.”
“What about well drinks?” a man demanded.
She pointed to Blake. “He’ll get your order. And if you want something frou-frou, like a blended daiquiri or a piña colada, you’re in the wrong bar.”
Laughter rang out.
For the next hour, Willow uncapped beer bottles, hauled ice and restocked. Blake was still a bit frazzled, but he never snapped at her or at a customer. His smile wasn’t as wide as she’d seen it other nights, but the man was still smiling.
Especially when he glanced her way. A very satisfied male expression transformed his face. But oddly enough, it
Meljean Brook
Christopher J. Koch
Annette Meyers
Kate Wilhelm
Philip R. Craig
Stephen Booth
Morgan Howell
Jason Frost - Warlord 04
Kathi Daley
Viola Grace