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“Yeah, sure.” Glancing at Dante, I nod toward the bar. “Pick out which menu options you like, and I’ll make it happen.”

He smiles. “I will.”

I slide off my stool and make my way across the floor.

“Shae?”

I look over my shoulder at Dante. “Yeah?”

“You’ve done a really great job with the party. Thank you.”

Offering him a smile, I nod.

His appraisal shouldn’t mean anything to me; he’s no different than any other client, but for some reason it does. Maybe it’s because of Rex, or maybe it’s this weird kindred-spirit vibe I get being around him. Either way, it’s a feeling I’ll have to explore at a different time.

When Shae turns toward Dante, I duck back into my office to wait for her. The soft tap of her shoes against the hardwood floor alerts me that she’s close, and I reach out, snagging her wrist. She stumbles into my office, her soft body resting against mine, and I walk her backward until she’s pressed against the wall, my hands on either side of her head. A familiar jolt of electricity races through me. It’s there every time I touch her, and this time when I feel it, the anxiety I felt watching her with Dante disappears.

“I’m jealous of my own fucking brother right now.” I nudge her legs apart with my knee, inserting my thigh between hers. “I’m not a jealous person, Shae, and I sure as shit don’t get jealous of my brother.”

She draws in a shaky breath, and I know she feels it too—this connection, the energy between us. She’s said it before, but for some reason, with her I need reassurance, and I fucking hate that.

I’ve never needed reassurance.

“You have nothing to be jealous of.”

I dip my head until my lips connect with the warm, soft skin of her neck. She smells like sunshine and flowers, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I spend several seconds just breathing her in.

“You sure about that?”

She nods, unable to form words when my hand drops to her thigh. Slowly, I bunch the material of her skirt until one of her legs is entirely exposed.

“I love it when you wear skirts,” I murmur, trailing my lips along her jaw.

“It was warm out today.”

I smile. “Try again.”

My fingers graze the edge of her panties, and when one slips beneath the hem, her body shudders against mine. Her knees buckle, and if I didn’t have a good grip on her, she would’ve melted to the floor.

“Rex,” she whispers, grabbing my shoulders. I know what she wants, what she needs, because it mirrors my own desire. But I want to hear her say it.

I pull my hand out of her panties, and she drops her head back against the wall. Her beautiful blue eyes peek up at me.

“I said, try again,” I command softly.

“For you, okay?” she says. “I wore it for you.”

Thank fuck.

My lips are on her neck, making slow, methodical sweeps against her skin as I dip my hand back into her panties, finding my very own little slice of heaven. She’s tight, wet, and her body easily accepts my fingers, molding to them as I pump in and out of her.

Somehow, through the lusty fog, I vaguely register the sound of someone—most likely Dante—moving around in the bar, and I notice the door to my office is still standing open. Knowing my brother could walk in and catch us doesn’t bother me at all. Maybe subconsciously that’s why I left the door open. Maybe I wanted him to see us so he’ll have no doubt that Shae is mine.

It’s not that I don’t trust him. I do, with my life, but for some strange reason, I feel an intense possession over Shae. The need to protect her and claim her is all-consuming, and that’s been amplified by watching the two of them together. The easy smile she gave him—the same one she gives me—and the way he responded to her was all I could take. I couldn’t watch for another second, which is why I went all caveman and drew her into my office.

Alas, her needs come before mine. I want her to be comfortable, which is why I pull back just enough to look at her.

“Let me shut the door.”


Tags: K. L. Grayson Mystery