Dirty Work - Regina Kyle Page 0,22

the appendage I need for what I have in mind.”

As if to prove his point, he uses his good arm to pull me to him, the evidence of his arousal pressing against my belly. I let myself relax into him, my reasons for resisting becoming dimmer and dimmer by the second.

“Does that mean what I think it means?” he asks, the hand on my back dropping down to cup my ass.

“That depends.” I’m hot everywhere, the ache between my legs sharpening into a persistent, almost painful throbbing. “What do you think it means?”

“I think it means you want me to do this.”

But before I can find out what “this” is, the tinny tones of Men at Work’s “Who Can It Be Now” ring out from the bedroom, making me tense in his arms.

Or, more accurately, arm.

“Shit. My cell phone.”

“Ignore it,” he growls, splaying his fingers across my ass cheek and squeezing.

“I can’t. It might be work.” The second the words are out of my mouth, I want to suck them back in. When I left DK&G, I swore I was done letting my job control my life. But I should have walked Roscoe and been back at the office—aka my apartment—for our morning meeting by now. Aaron and Erin are probably camped out in the hallway outside my door, picturing me lying in the gutter somewhere.

Reluctantly—and gently, being careful not to jar his injured shoulder—I worm my way out of Jake’s embrace and make a beeline for my purse, managing to fish out my phone and swipe the screen to answer before it stops ringing.

“Hey, Aaron. Or Erin. Sorry I’m late. I got held up with Roscoe. But I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Held up?” Jake mutters with a smug smile as he breezes by me on his way to the dresser. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

I wave him off with my phone-free hand, using all my Jedi mind powers to brainwash him into keeping his big mouth shut. If my coworkers find out I’ve been playing house with him, I’ll never hear the end of it.

He yanks a pair of boxer briefs from one of the dresser drawers, and I turn my attention back to the phone. Sure, I’m tempted to watch him drop the towel so he can get dressed. What woman with a pulse and half a brain wouldn’t be? But I’m afraid the sight will render me speechless, and then Aaron—or Erin—will definitely think I’ve gone off the deep end.

“Why don’t you guys go to the Starbucks on the corner and get a couple of lattes,” I suggest. “On me. I’ll text you when I get off the subway at 28th Street.”

That ought to keep them happy. I grab my purse from the bed, ready to make yet another quick exit. It’s becoming a pattern with us. At this rate, I should just have little sympathy notes printed up. Sorry for giving you a case of the blue balls, Jake. Better luck next time.

“Thanks for the offer,” the voice on the other end of the phone says. “But seeing as I’m almost three thousand miles away in San Diego, I’ll have to pass.”

“Brie.”

Shit. I was in such a hurry to answer, I didn’t bother to check the screen before I swiped right, just assuming it was one of the Aarons. Or is it Erins? Whatever. The point is, if I had seen it was Jake’s sister, I would have let the call go to voicemail. It’s majorly uncomfortable trying to have a casual conversation with her brother in my peripheral vision, wearing only those damn boxer briefs. The way they hug his tight ass and muscular thighs...

Damn.

Nevertheless, I persist.

“Hey, girl.” My voice sounds unnaturally high, even to my ears. I clear my throat and make a conscious effort to sound less like Minnie Mouse on helium. “How’s things on the West Coast?”

Jake catches my eye and mouths, “My sister?”

I nod.

“Are you okay?” Brie asks, completely bypassing my question. “You sound funny. Like you’re at the bottom of a well or something.”

“I’m fine,” I lie. “Just busy. Lots of errands on the schedule today.”

“Well, I hope you have time to squeeze in one more as a favor to a friend. Have you walked Roscoe yet today?”

“No...” I hedge. “I’m, uh, on my way there now.”

“Good. I’m worried about my brother. Connor told me he got hurt last night.”

“You talked to Connor?” My gaze flicks to Jake, who’s struggling to pull