“Oh, wow, it’s so cute in here.” She looks around after I flip on the light. I stay near the door as she walks through the kitchen-adjacent living room. She runs her fingertips over the back of the couch and then the mantle. “Even has a fireplace?”
She looks giddy, her smile never faltering as she walks into the kitchen then down the hallway into the two bedrooms.
“What work does it need?”
“Hmm?”
She pokes her head around the corner to look at me. “You said it needed work.”
“Oh,” I stumble, glancing around hoping to see something, but I don’t. “Think my dad said something about it needing a new water heater and having some plumbing issues.”
She ducks back into the bathroom and I hear her flush the toilet then turn on the water. A minute later, she’s walking back out to the living room.
“Plumbing seems fine to me. Water even got hot pretty quickly.”
I shrug as she closes the distance between us.
“Did you just tell me that to scare me off so I wouldn’t ask about renting it from you?” Her hands are in her back pockets, her breasts almost touching me.
“Maybe.” I don’t know why I don’t just lie again—tell her that, no, it does need work and I need to go to bed.
“Why?”
“I can’t give you what you want, Brooklyn.” I finally say the words.
“And what is it that you think I want, Tyler?”
I take a step back and look up toward the ceiling in exasperation. “Look, I don’t have time for games. I’ve got a ranch to run and I can’t get wrapped up in some young woman who ran away from her previous life because she was bored. One harsh winter here and you’ll realize you really can’t live without Amazon Prime and Sephora. I won’t be standing here with a broken heart when you hightail it back to Chicago.”
She giggles and I feel it in my chest. I hate that I’m starting to notice the little things about her—the way her skin crinkles around her green eyes when she laughs.
“And how do you know what Sephora is?” She reaches out her hand and places it against my chest. “I think it’s cute that you’re worried I’ll break your heart.” She steps closer and I can feel the door against my back. Her eyes are heavy and they drop from mine to my lips. She closes the distance between us, and just before her lips meet mine, I grab her hand that’s on my chest and spin her around so she’s pinned against the door.
I grab her other hand and pin both above her head.
“Why won’t you kiss me?” she asks.
I drop her hands and place my palms flat against the door behind her. I want to kiss her. I’ve relentlessly thought of kissing her since the first night I met her, but I know that the connection I felt with her will come back the moment our lips touch again.
“It’s just fucking. I’m not your boyfriend. I’m not even your friend.”
She slowly reaches out her hand. My eyes don’t leave hers as she drags her fingertips down my chest then straight beneath my waistband. I inhale sharply as her fingers wrap around my cock. She teases me, sliding her hand up and down my length agonizingly slowly at first before gaining speed.
“It can be whatever you want it to be if you agree to the bachelor auction.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. I can feel my release building as her other hand undoes a few buttons on my shirt.
“Fuuu—,” the unfinished word is garbled as she drags her tongue over my now-exposed skin.
She grips me tighter in her hand, releasing me fully from my jeans. She runs the tip of her thumb on the underside of my head and my knees almost buckle.
Am I really about to explode with a hand job?
I reach for her shirt and pull at it. “Wanna come on your tits,” I say as I fail to remove the material from her.
“Are you going to agree to the auction?”
“I don’t fucking care . . . I’ll do anything . . . just don’t stop.” I’m practically begging. I can feel the pressure building and I close my eyes again as I prepare to come, but then she stops.