I smirked, setting a glass of water in front of her. “Tough night?”
She groaned. “How do you do this every day?”
I shrugged, leaning on the counter. “This old man is used to it.”
She took a long sip of water and studied me over the rim of her glass. “You know, I think I actually liked it.”
I arched my brow. “Liar.”
She laughed, setting the glass down. “No, seriously. It was kinda fun. Maybe I just like being with you.”
Something in my chest tightened at her words and it stirred a feeling I wasn’t quite ready to admit yet. Grace had surprised me tonight—hell, she’d stunned me the way she jumped in to help me with no complaints. Her polished rich-girl exterior wascracking enough for me to see she was somebody who loved to help.
The air between us shifted, heavy with something unspoken. Her gaze dipped to my mouth as our final customer said good night and exited Bar.
I stomped to the door and locked it. Once I made my way back to where she was seated, I proceeded to stand between her legs. She leaned in slightly, her eyes locked on mine.
“You survived,” I teased gently, nodding toward the hallway that led to my office. “Come on, I owe you a drink.”
She nodded, a playful glint in her eyes. “So … what else do bartenders do when the night is coming to a close?”
I smirked, tossing the rag in my hands on the counter. “Depends on the company.”
Grace tilted her head. “And if the company is me?”
I reached for her hand, my fingers brushing hers and lingering just enough to make her breath hitch. “Guess you’ll have to stick around and find out.”
A sexy smile spread across her lips. “Maybe I will.”
I walked her into my office, kicking the door shut behind us. The room was quiet, a stark contrast from the night we left behind. She leaned against my desk casually, watching my every move as I reached for a bottle of whiskey and poured two fingers in a single glass.
“Are you going to share?” she asked, her voice low and teasing.
“Trust me,” I murmured, stepping closer, “it tastes better this way.”
She watched me, her lips slightly parted as I closed the space between us. My eyes went to her mouth, and as I held the glass to her lips, our eyes locked. Neither one of us was willing to break first. She sipped slowly, almost sensually, watching me the whole time as her plump lips puckered from the sharp taste. Ifollowed her lead, tasting the whiskey, most importantly tasting her, my want for her growing with every minute.
“Caleb—” she whispered, taking the glass from my hand and placing it behind her on the desk.
I gripped her waist, pulling her flush against me as her hands tangled in my shirt, pulling me closer. The room around us faded. The only thing I could feel was the heat of her body against mine, the way she melted into me.
She gasped as I nudged her back, pinning her against the desk chair, one of my hands sliding up her thigh. She was soaked through her black leggings.
“God, I want you,” I breathed out, needing her to understand how much I desired her.
“Me too. So much.”
The words barely left her mouth before I closed the distance, taking her chin between my fingers and tilting her face up. I kissed her, slow at first, testing, teasing, until she made a soft, desperate sound.
“You sure you can handle this job?” I murmured against her lips.
When she pulled away, she smirked, breathless, her nails raking down my back, clawing at my shirt. “Guess you’ll have to keep me around, boss.”
I attempted to kneel, but her hands gripped my shoulders as she shook her head. I looked at her questioningly.
“Come on, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about this yet.” She slid her hand down between my thighs, rubbing my cock with her palm.
“Thought about what?” I ground out, trying to not come in my pants.
