No Good Mitchell - Riley Hart Page 0,35
toward the kitchen. “You come with me.”
Walker looked over his shoulder at Brody as if he had no idea what to do.
I said, “Isaac is going to keep him on his toes.”
“Good,” Brody replied. “He needs it.”
He leaned against the door and pushed his hands into his pockets. I got the feeling something was wrong. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just O’Ralley stuff. Big Daddy’s been a little crazier than usual. We got—you know what? Never mind. You don’t want to hear that.”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”
“Oh, well, what I mean is, they’ll kick my ass if I tell you.” We both laughed again. I knew he was joking but not. “By the way,” he continued, “you definitely haven’t done yourself justice as far as your line of work. I googled you, and you’re far more business-savvy than you let on. I didn’t take a Mitchell to be the humble sort.”
“Aw, I’m touched. You were thinking about me?” I said playfully.
Brody’s voice was deep, hoarse, and serious when he said, “Yeah.”
“Come on.” My cock was already starting to plump up. Oh, the things I wanted to do to him would likely make this sweet Southern boy blush.
I led him to the office. The second I had the door closed, I used my body to push him against it, roughly taking his mouth. Brody responded in kind, his hands urgent, wild as he grabbed my hair, then slid them down my back and squeezed my ass, then back up to tangle in my hair again, like he didn’t know where he wanted to touch me.
He tasted like mint and smelled like sunshine and barley, something I wouldn’t have thought would be so heady until I met him.
We were both hard as we thrust against each other, frantically kissing like we were in a plane going down and each other’s mouths were a source of oxygen.
“Fuck.” I pulled away and pressed my forehead to his. “I don’t know what it is about you, but you go straight to my head.”
He was breathing heavily as he replied, “Yeah, you with me too.”
I pulled back, before I ended up on my knees for him. “I, um, don’t think I ever thanked you for that night on the porch, for listening to that shit I told you and for keeping it to yourself—and, well, taking care of me when I was drunk and acting like a teenager being given liquor for the first time.”
“You don’t gotta thank me for that.”
“But I want to. It’s…a lot. I’m still trying to process it all, ya know? I grew up knowing my mom died when I was young and not knowing anything about my past. I figured my dad didn’t know about me or want me, and after Byron found me so easily, I sure as shit knew my dad hadn’t wanted me. Then to hear all the stories in town and to read his words about my mom…about me…and to know he did what he did because he cared. Well, it’s a lot, and fuck, I’m rambling and embarrassing myself. I’m not on my game. I just wanted to say thank you, is all.”
Brody was looking at me, this intense stare I couldn’t read. Then he stepped forward, put his hand at the back of my neck, and tugged me closer, pressing a quick, hard kiss to my lips. “You and I are gonna be in a world of trouble, I think.”
Somehow I knew he was right. “We’re Mitchells and O’Ralleys. We’re supposed to be trouble for each other, though I’m thinking not in the same way we are.”
“No shit.” He snickered. “Maybe we should get out there. Walker will be wondering.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “I don’t know yet—and it’s not because I don’t trust you. It’s just all the other shit—but if I can manage it without raising any red flags, would you be willing to look at some O’Ralley business stuff in private and see if you have any ideas to help us?”
Shit. I’d wondered if they were struggling or in trouble in any way. “Yeah, of course. You can trust me to do right by you.”
Brody nodded slowly. “I know…just trying to think if it’s worth my ass getting handed to me, is all. You Mitchells are nothing but trouble.”
“So I’ve been told, but I’m pretty sure the same can be said about you O’Ralleys. My dad might have not been like the rest of his family and worked to get