His fingers moved through my hair more gently. “Thank you for telling me about the dog thing,” he said softly. “I didn’t know.”
I shook my head. Nobody wanted to talk about childhood trauma right now, and I had a pretty good idea of one way to stop the conversation, a way I considered a win-win for all of the people in the room. “I want to suck you off.”
My fingers continued to explore the size and shape of his cock as I leaned in and rubbed the edge of my jaw across its hard length. He smelled so damned good.
Brewer’s thick, muscled ass tightened, pushing his dick against my face as I continued to tease him. His eyes darkened further. “Delaney,” he warned, voice like bourbon over gravel.
Dampness bloomed on the cotton in front of me, the scent of his precum making me dizzy. “Brew,” I breathed, still nearly face-first in his groin. “I want?—”
With one hand still in my hair, he used the other to pull down his boxer briefs, nudging me back a little until his stiff cock fell forward against my cheek. “You want?” he asked, looking unsure, like he was suddenly worried he was crossing a line.
I met his eyes and confessed. “Yes. I want. I’ve wanted you for a while.”
CHAPTEREIGHT
BREWER
The sightof Delaney Monroe on his knees for me had both sobered me and made me feel ten times more intoxicated than I’d felt coming home from the bar.
But hearing him say he’d wanted this? Wanted me?
It was enough to make me want to grab the man up by the armpits and toss him face-first onto the nearest bed before sliding between his cheeks and feeling him from the inside out.
Right now, though, I wasn’t moving from this spot. Not with this gorgeous, fastidious man willing to put his mouth on me. My chest heaved with disbelief. Was this really happening?
I closed my eyes and tried not to question it because I knew if I did, I’d have to stop this. It was wrong. Delaney was my client. My business…
“Fuck, yes,” I groaned as Delaney’s hot mouth engulfed my cock. His hair was messy and eyes bright as he peered up at me. Watching his lips stretch around my shaft made my balls ache. “Feels amazing.”
Delaney blinked, the edges of his lips quirking up in an adorably tipsy way. “You like this?”
I ran my fingers through his hair. “Smug bastard.” I grinned down at him. “What’s that quote you have framed in your office?”
He knew I remembered the quote. We’d talked about it before. “What you plant now, you will harvest later.” Delaney had pointed it out in one of our discussions about painting his office woodwork.
It was attributed to Og Mandino, some salesperson or other, but Delaney had mentioned appreciating how it could also refer to following breadcrumbs of a good story while doing research.
Delaney leaned down and suckled at my crown, his tongue paying particular attention to just the right spot under the edge before he pulled off again and grinned up at me. “Are you planning on harvesting in my face?”
I tightened my grip in his hair and held his head in place as I leaned down and kissed him hard. “Shimmy off those silky things, Farmer Del. I want to suck your cock.”
Within moments, we were head-to-dick on the floor in front of the fire, sucking and stroking each other into a frenzy.
Delaney pulled off my cock with a gasp. “Motivation beats talent. I a-applaud your diligent efforts.”
It was a reference to another one of the damned self-help quotes hung on his office wall, a quote I may have argued against under my breath a time or two in the past few weeks of trying to convince my prickly client that I had both motivationandtalent.
Which only motivated me to prove it to him now.
I pinched his ass, enjoying his laughing yelp. “Talent’s gonna make you come,” I grumbled before leaning down to pull one of his balls into my mouth.
Delaney’s slender fingers dug into the back of my thighs as he groaned and arched into me. “Please, Brewer. Fuck, please.So good.”
Instead of letting him come, I punished the snark by pulling off and dropping barely there, open-mouthed kisses along his inner thigh before finally licking and sucking a bruise into the tender skin there.
“Brewer!” he cried, pulling off my own cock. “Fuck, please. Make me come.” He moved his warm, wet lips along my shaft, nearly causing my brain to short-circuit.
If there was something consistent about Delaney Monroe, it was his need to prove himself right, to make sure no one thought he was deficient in any way. He’d be damned if he’d lose a contest or come up short in anyone’s opinion.
