Her lip twitches. “Think I might forget your rules and try and take advantage of you in my drunken stupor?”
I smile, squeezing her hips. “Yeah, and I might forget you’re drunk.”
Too much temptation. I know how fucking amazing it feels having Brooke next to me at night. I won’t be able to keep my hands off her.
“I would,” she confesses through a massive grin. “Forget, and take advantage of you. But can you at least stay until I fall asleep? I’ll let you stare at my tits a little.” She shimmies her shoulders and makes her tits bounce and sway.
My cock stirs.
No bra. Fuck, this is going to be a challenge.
“Jesus Christ, Brooke,” I groan, leaning in and taking her mouth again, tilting her head and pressing kisses to her jaw. “You’re keeping that on, yeah?”
“Nah.”
She laughs and I suck on her neck.
“Good,” I tell her. “Then I’ll stay.”
BROOKE
Mondays have never bothered me.
I know most people would rather skip this day entirely, but I’ve never had a problem with it. I don’t mind working on Mondays, or dealing with the general population on this specific day of the week. Traffic is never really an issue because I work so close to where I live. And as long as I’m not drinking my weight in booze the night before, I never have difficulty waking up and getting my ass to the bakery on time.
Mondays have never bothered me. Until today, this particular Monday.
The Monday after my weekend with Mason.
Why the fuck did I think it was a good idea to come into work today?
Because I was nursing a wicked hangover all day yesterday and spent my life in bed with my door locked, Joey missed his opportunity to run off at the mouth and bug the shit out of me about everything that happened this weekend. But now that I’m fully coherent and stuck in this chocolate raspberry scented Hell for eight hours? I not only get to try and ignore Joey’s nosy comments, but Dylan is also weighing in with her opinion on everything.
She’s my boss. I can’t exactly toss her through a window to shut her up now, can I?
Plus, there’s the whole pregnancy thing. I’m sure that wouldn’t be good for the baby.
“Cupcake, you should’ve seen her.” Joey’s broad smile reemerges as he steps into the back for the hundredth time today.
I sigh and keep my head down.
“Talking about how sweet Mason was when he removed the tick. How he held her while she cried with those sexy ass arms of his. She even mentioned something about having a decent time up until that point. Can you believe it? Our little mini muffin actually enjoyed camping.”
I place another pastry into the large bakery box in front of me and glare at him from across the worktop. Dylan laughs quietly from her stool. “I was drunk when I said that,” I tell him.
I can’t believe it. I actually had fun camping. What is happening with the world?
“You were barely into your first martini. Don’t even go there with me, Brooke.” Joey points a finger at my face. “I am way past the point of trying to get you to admit you have feelings for this guy, because I think you’re way past just having feelings. I saw you with him when he came over, and I know how you flirt when you’re drunk. That wasn’t it, honey.”
I close the box and stack it on top of the other two I have already filled. A sharp, unrelenting tension builds behind my eyes. I ignore Dylan’s pleased smile and focus all of my annoyance onto Joey.
“Well, I don’t remember how I looked when Mason came over, because like I said fifty times already today, I was well on my way to party hour, but I’m sure I looked how any woman would look when sex comes knocking at their door.”
“Oh, give me a fucking break.” Dylan pushes a sheet pan away from her and crosses her arms under her chest. “Brooke, when was the last time you had sex? How many days ago?”
I open my mouth to answer, then quickly close it.
Fuck. Fuuuck. I can normally count my response to this question on one hand. But today I have no idea . . .