a wicked, panty-melting grin.
“What, exactly, do you have planned?”
“You’ll see.” He smiles again then grabs my hand and pulls me through the lobby and up some stairs toward a bistro.
We’re taken care of despite the line out front. The hostess refers to Brian as Mr. Fox when she sees him, and she leads us directly to an open booth overlooking the Strip. Brian orders us a bottle of wine and I look over the menu while we wait for it to arrive.
“How was your flight home?” I ask once I’ve decided what I want to eat.
“Fine. I worked through most of it.” His eyes remain on his menu. “How was your car ride?”
Incredible. Confusing. Heartbreaking. “Fine.”
“Long ride?” he asks.
“It seemed like it went faster than normal today.”
“Good music selection?”
I think back to Mark’s serenade as guilt stabs at my abdomen. “The best.”
He closes his menu and sets it on the table. “What else did I miss while I was gone?”
I shrug. “Nothing exciting.” Except your brother kissed me and I think I might be in love with both of you.
None of the lines I’ve crossed with Mark have been my fault. While I admittedly didn’t stop them, he’s the one who kissed me first. He’s the one who obtained my phone number, and he’s the one who showed up in Phoenix uninvited and kidnapped me for five hours.
I suppose I could’ve put up a bigger fight, and that’s on me—that’s my fault, and that’s where my guilt stems from. That and the little omission that I’ve slept with Mark.
We order our meals and chat about nothing important as I do my best to focus on the man in front of me while I simultaneously push Mark further from my mind.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
As soon as we’re done eating, we leave. Brian didn’t pay the bill, but if they know him, they know where he lives and will figure out how to get their payment. The bottle of wine was left half full on the table. Money is no object.
We’re not alone on the elevator. A couple gets off on a floor a few down from ours, but when the doors close behind them, we’re sealed in alone.
Brian doesn’t waste a second.
He’s on me in a flash, his mouth hot on mine, his tongue moving against my own as his fingers move down to grab me between my legs. I do the same to him, cupping him through his pants, finding his erection and fisting it as best I can through his slacks.
My insides burn as the ache his brother started blisters in my core. The pressure of his fingers is just enough to give me a preview without giving anything away, but I want it—need it. I crave it.
I ignore the corner of my brain that’s questioning whether it’s him I’m craving.
The elevator doors open to our floor, and we almost miss it. The doors start to close, but we’re so intent on lip to lip, body to body, exploring fingers that we nearly get stuck for another ride. Just before the doors close, Brian sticks his leg through and the doors pop back open. He pulls me the short distance from the elevator to door 4701, barely allowing his lips to leave mine.
I think for a second what this would look like if Mark was here in the hallway. This isn’t something I’d want him to see—but it’s completely natural at the same time, a girlfriend greeting her boyfriend who has been out of town for a few days. I shouldn’t feel guilty kissing Brian.
So why do I?
I take a step out of Brian’s orbit as he unlocks the door. The condo is empty when we walk in, and I can’t help the relief that spasms right in the middle of my chest.
Brian leads me through the space toward his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind us. I’m suddenly thankful for the soundproof walls in here—not because I care if someone’s on the other side of the door making noise, but because I don’t want anyone to hear what’s going on in here. Specifically Mark.
Just like in the elevator, no time is wasted. Brian grabs for me, roughly yanking my shirt over my head and tossing it on the floor while he simultaneously kicks off his shoes. My shoes come off next, followed by his shirt. I allow my fingertips to run over the cuts of muscle I missed while he was gone, and then I lean forward and run my