Page 16

Chapter Fifteen

S he was extraordinary. Her taste the only thing I needed to survive.

The remnants of passion fruit from her drink swirled with the vanilla from her lips to create a fucking wet dream in my mouth and remembering how she felt against my tongue did not do justice to the reality.

I wanted to take my time, pepper her mouth with languid strokes while I basked in the sounds she made as my fingers trailed her skin. I’d wanted to map every inch of her body while the world continued to move below, but she made it difficult to do anything other than take. I lost all sense of control when I was within her vicinity and any self-imposed rules of no fraternisation between employees and patrons, was quickly forgotten.

Her hands gently tugging at my hair elicited a groan from somewhere deep in my soul. I’d stupidly thought if I tasted her that one time at Andy’s house, I would be able to walk away. Forget whatever ridiculous fascination this was; however, the craving had only edged deeper, obfuscating every crevice of my being until she was my first and last thought each day. And now with her body pressed against me and her hands holding me as if she needed me to survive, I was intoxicated, any chaos in the world evaporating.

A sharp knock, followed by the distinct sound of the doorknob broke through the bubble we'd unknowingly escaped within. Marlee stilled, breaking our kiss and looking at me with wide eyes as I shielded her from whoever the fuck was entering my office.

Wayne faltered, the abrupt slam of glass in the crate in his hands the only sign of his shock at what he stumbled upon. Clearing his throat, he averted his eyes to hide an obvious grin.

Prick .

“Sorry to interrupt, boss, but you should probably know Cooper is about two or so minutes from coming up here depending on how long those boys keep him,” he placed the crate on my desk, indicating the whiskey Coop brought. The second his back was turned, I used my foot to cover Marlee’s panties on the floor and dragged them out of sight.

“Thanks,” Arsehole was going to have a field day asking me about this later. She was holding onto the back of my shirt, having pulled it taut and I reached back and placed a hand on her leg reassuringly.

“No worries, boss,” Wayne said, stepping forward to grasp the door handle, “Marlee.” He acknowledged her presence while flicking me the briefest smirk before closing the door on his way out. Fucker did that more for my embarrassment than hers and when I turned around her soft cheeks were an adorable pink, our stolen moment shattered.

Pulling her into my chest I placed a kiss on the top of her head, feeling her relax, before she gently stepped out of my hold and bent down to reclaim her undergarments.

“Should probably put these back on,” she avoided meeting my eyes and over her shoulder I saw my idiotic best mate heading straight for the stairs that led to the office. “So do you know Cooper through Andy?” She asked, pulling her skirt down and quickly adjusting her top. Other than the slight flush of her cheeks and the lipstick that was no longer on her lips, but possibly on mine, she appeared as she did when she entered. Her pleasure which still coated my hand, was the only other reminder she moaned my name not even five minutes ago.

“Cooper is –” I began, before I was interrupted by the impeccably timed fool himself.

“Cooper is – is a legend? The only man who can beat you in boxing and live to tell the tale? The brains and brawn of our friendship? Should I continue?” I noted the moment he spotted Marlee because his eyes moved between both of us like he was watching tennis and his grin in my direction was a clear indication I was found out.

Unfortunately, he was the most insightful prick I had ever met and at times knew me better than I knew myself.

“It’s Marlee, right?” His voice was both friendly and flirtatious, instantly pissing me off. “You’re Arna’s friend,” he stated rather than asked, reaching to take her hand.

“That’s correct,” she replied, looking at his hand as I leant over and slapped it away from her.

Cooper only grinned, loving nothing more than a bit of banter.

“This is my best-mate, Cooper,” I said. “He is a dick, and he was just leaving to go and order you a drink to make up for being such a tool. He was also going to tip the bartender nicely for her trouble.” He threw his head back and laughed which made the jealousy from before dissipate. Holding his hands up in defence mode, he walked backwards towards the door.

“Okay, okay, what are you drinking?” He smiled big and I was going to do my best to knock some of those teeth out on Sunday when we faced off in the training ring.

“She would like a vodka passion fruit in a short glass, plenty of ice, and she wants it delivered to her table,” I moved to the cameras and pointed to the screen that depicted the VIP booth where Andy, Jack and the boys were sitting.

“No problem at all. Lovely to see you again, Marlee,” saluting us both, he left, his voice echoing down the stairwell, “Pour me a drink, Micallef. But wash your hands first.”

I reached for a horrified Marlee as he sauntered down to the bar like the bloody perceptive bastard he was and apologised around my own chuckle.

Far too focused on trying to read her lips through the cameras, I didn’t realise Coop was there until he scared the living shit out of me.

“Nothing there, huh?” Flippant bastard had not only seen her in my office – a first – but caught me watching her and her friends since she returned to the table. Both Arna and Felicity had her sandwiched, peppering her with what I assumed were questions on her lengthy disappearance and I was desperate to know what she said.

“Have you always been this irritating?” I asked, ignoring the cocky way he grinned at my expense.

“Avoidance is becoming a thing for you,” leaning back in my chair and crossing his legs on top of the table, he knew exactly how to get on my last nerve.

“Your new drop tastes like shit,” I lied, which his rumbling laugh indicated he also knew, and I smirked, unable to ignore the way in his presence I could always be my unapologetic self. But if he could refrain from interrupting when I had my fingers inside the enigmatic beauty downstairs or her vanilla lips on mine, I’d probably like him more.

“So the woman who seems to have your panties in a knot,” he said, staring at me with a shit-eating grin, “is none other than Mar-lee.” He separated her name in an attempt to further irritate me and I narrowed my eyes, wondering if I could get in at least one hit before he reacted. I doubted it based on his boxing record, but a man could hope. Noticing his freshly bruised hands I ignored his jibe.

“Have you been fighting?” I reached for one of the bottles and inspected the label.

He wouldn’t lie to me but I didn’t need to make it any more difficult by staring him down which always pissed him off. Cooper and I trained together and that included heavy boxing sessions both on the bag and in the ring, but he’d found the ring to be a place of solace for a while now and it wasn’t always pretty or legal. Countless hours near begging him to quit hadn’t work, the sick fuck enjoyed the thrill of it all and maintained he would stop soon enough , but I knew better. A bout in the ring nearly always coincided with him not doing too well and he could hide behind his larger-than-life grin and those blue eyes which nearly every woman fell for, but I knew this bloke and had done since our first day of kindergarten.

He was hurting and that meant he’d probably had another blow-up with his folks. Namely his old man.

He rubbed his knuckles, his grin slipping as he sat up straighter and reached for the whiskey.

“Deflection and avoidance,” he huffed while pouring a drink. “Got a text and wasn’t busy so headed in. No big deal.” I didn’t reprimand him, but I also didn’t ask for details. Other than his hands he didn’t have a mark on him which was another reason I wasn’t going to try to hit him unless I knew I could run. He was the best fighter I'd ever seen and the only thing scarier than his right hook, was the way he lost all sense of control if he felt trapped or triggered. Something which thankfully hadn’t happened in a while.

“Solstice Mist,” I read the label on his latest brew aloud before glancing up to him.

His hair had gotten longer, and the blonde strands were now covering his face. When he looked up his expression remained concealed. There would be no more unpacking tonight. “You been smoking the good stuff at home again? What the fuck is Solstice Mist?”

“Fuck off,” he huffed, “It’s good though, right? Made it for your new bar,” he added, referring to my new dream.

“It’ll be top shelf for sure. How’s the distillery?”

“Busy, man. I need to get myself some more help, I think. Might look into hiring a few people once it starts to warm up.”

I nodded and casually glanced towards the cameras tracking each screen until I found exactly who I was looking for, dancing with Arna and Jack. Even though I doubted there was anything there between Marlee and Jack, I couldn’t help the sharp pang of jealousy with how unencumbered she seemed around him.

Coop, unaware of my stupid thoughts, moved over to the window to watch the floor below.

“She’s hot, man. Those legs…” He whistled, glancing back over his shoulder with a wink. He was intentionally taunting me again, doing his best to get a rise and like a fucking hungry little fish I took the bait.

“Did you want a black eye to match your bruised knuckles?” I spat, standing next to him. He wasn’t wrong. That tight top she was wearing was practically painted on hiding what was likely a perfect set of fucking tits.

“Mate, you don’t even let your employees in this office, yet you had fucking heart eyes when I came up. I just want you to admit it to me.”

“Oh, piss off,” I said, shoving his shoulder as he stumbled back.

“Okay, okay. I get it, you aren’t interested,” putting his drink down, he headed for the door. “Might go see if she prefers blondes then,” he took off running as I lunged for him, and I could only laugh as he nearly tripped down the stairs in the process.