Page 18 of Broken Brothers

I looked back at her. She had moved closer.

I didn’t need any more hints. I had covered my ass. No one would know.

I leaned in and kissed her.

As if our kiss had broken not a seal but a dam, it went from a moment to a frenzy, our hands all over each other. We reached for each other like two horny teenagers—which, given that the last time this happened was ten years ago, probably wasn’t the most inaccurate statement.

I pushed her up against the wall, my mouth moving from her lips to her ear and her neck. I could feel her hands running over my chest and stomach, reaching for my groin.Just like that, I thought.Chance Hunt never fails.

SLAM!

I moved back so quickly that I almost dropped Layla to the ground. I quickly spun to the door, thinking someone had kicked it open.

No. Nothing.

But the scare had brought a level of sobriety to both of us, and we realized that we’d engaged in some risky behavior…

At least, in the context of an office, no matter how private I thought this was.

“Sorry, sorry,” Layla said, though she seemed relatively calm all things considered. “Things got a little out of hand, I’m—”

She was rambling, I could tell, no matter how well she faked being calm. And rambling usually indicated attraction.

I put my hand on her shoulder.

“We shouldn’t do this… here,” I said, my smile growing. “Let me take you out to dinner sometime.”

Layla laughed, a little bit too loudly for my tastes, but at least it was a laugh and not a moan. She locked eyes and smirked.

“We’ll see, Chance Hunt,” she said. “In the meantime, review those files, OK?”

I nodded. I’d do anything to continue what we had just started. I’d even give her…

OK, no, I wouldn’t give her some of the deal back to have her. That was career suicide. But damn if I didn’t think about it.Leave it at that. A thought. Nothing more. Nothing less.

“I had fun, Chance,” she said as she moved out. “I’ll be in touch.”

With that, she opened the door, smoothing out her shirt as she did, and shut it behind me.

I refused to allow myself to believe this was different. I would not let myself get close to her, at least emotionally. She would make for an amazing time between the sheets, but I couldn’t let it go beyond that.

And I definitely could not let it interfere with my work. This was a chance to become Chance, not stay as Chance Hunt. Nothing was worth sacrificing that.

Still…

For how this had started, for how quickly she had moved, and for the conviction of her body and the contour of her curves, it was hard not to let my mind carry away to some dangerous places.

7

The good news was, I wasn’t allowed to go to those dangerous places in person over the next week.

Unfortunately, it was only good news within the specific confines of acting—I wasn’t sure that it was great for my mental sanity overall.

Because for as much as I thought about Layla, as much as I fantasized about her, as much as I wanted to bring her back to my office to finish what we had started, consequences be damned… I never even saw her at her father’s office, let alone my own again.

No messages either. It wasn’t like she didn’t know how to contact me. She had my email and both my work and my personal cell numbers.

So what the hell had happened?