2. Chapter Two
Chapter Two
Dallas
“ C areful, Dallas, you keep looking at her like that and people will get the wrong impression.”
“That I’m hoping she’ll erupt into flames?”
“That you’re two seconds away from ripping her clothes off.”
I scoff at my idiot brother. “That is not how I’m looking at her.”
“Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”
I cross my arms defensively over my chest. “This is a pointless shit show. I’ll be in my office.”
I start to walk away when my twin brother, Sawyer, grabs my arm.
“You need to stay. This is a big deal, dickhead. Show your support. You bailed yesterday, and she’s worked hard to make all this happen.”
“I don’t support it though, do I? Hosting events here, all these stupid-ass tours and tastings, what’s the point of all this? Dad and Granddad did just fine without letting everyone and their mother waltz through the doors to gallivant around our operation. Why are we?”
“I’m not getting into this with you again. You’ve seen the numbers; you know this is a good move. Blaire’s worked her ass off to set us up to host events and tastings here in time for Christmas. Whether you agree with it or not, you’re the chief operating officer and need to show face.”
“Like hell I do.” To prove my point, I walk away with my middle finger in the air and head up the stairs to our offices, slamming the door behind me. I relax into my new Herman Miller office chair, a gift from the same shithead brother downstairs currently pissing me off. He bought it for me after I helped save his fiancé from being abducted by her psycho ex-boyfriend.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to see who the text is from. My four siblings and I have a group text thread, and it keeps our phones going off constantly, but this time, it’s only from Sawyer.
Sawyer:
You’re a dickhead, you know that?
Me:
You think I care?
Sawyer:
You can’t just hide in your office and ignore your responsibilities
Me:
No? Then fire Blaire and cancel this shit show. As long as people are stomping through our business then you can find me in my office
Sawyer:
Pouting like a goddamn baby who didn’t get his way. Grow the fuck up, Dallas
Is that really what he thinks? That I’m pissed off because I didn’t get my way? Frustrated, I turn my phone on silent and toss it onto my desk with a huff. This is the problem with being in business with family; the lines get blurred, and boundaries are inevitably crossed. My three brothers and I run Aspen Ridge Distillery. It’s been in our family for four generations, supplying whiskey and bourbon to the Pacific Northwest, and it only keeps growing.
Since Sawyer and I are twins, our dad and grandfather weren’t sure which of us would take over the CEO position from our dad, but I happily bowed out of the running, content to be his number two. Last summer, one of our younger brothers, Carter, who handles all of our PR, came up with a plan to generate more income by hosting tastings, events, and tours of the distillery. Unfortunately, Carter had done all of his homework, and everyone was on board with his proposal. Except for me. I thrive in the laid-back environment we’ve had going here; the only people on the property are the staff, and it’s easygoing. Now I’ll have to suffer through the hustle and bustle of events and gaggles of people swarming around while we work. I think we’re opening ourselves up for disaster. The pressure to always be “on” because we represent the company and people are paying to be on our grounds, isn’t something I’m thrilled about either. Go to a goddamn winery or brewery. This is a distillery. I live for the tranquility that this place has had my entire life. Now, with all the changes, my sanctuary has gone out the goddamn window.
To add the cherry on top, Sawyer went ahead and hired an event coordinator after I refused to fill the position like he had tasked me to. And he didn’t hire just anyone. Blaire Hollis is the bane of my existence. She’s the physical representation of everything that irritates me and has ruined everything we had going at the distillery. What’s worse? I am so goddamn attracted to her that it pisses me off. She’s easily the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
Wild, fiery red hair that is always worn down, cascading past her shoulder blades, a set of thick thighs that I’ve imagined tossed over my shoulders more times than I can count, a plump ass, and curves that were made for my hands to grab onto. She’s a damn smoke show. A succubus sent by the devil himself to torture me, and I’ve nearly beat my cock to death in the bathroom after every interaction I have with her.
I can’t stand her.
My dick doesn’t agree.
Yesterday was Blaire’s launch party. Everyone who works for the distillery was invited and encouraged to bring their families to celebrate. I lasted about five minutes before I bailed. Today is open fucking season and worse than I could have imagined. Seems like everyone within a fifty-mile radius came out to catch a glimpse behind-the-scenes of the mysterious Aspen Ridge Distillery. Knowing I need a way to release this energy, I relent and pull up my sibling group chat.
Me:
Hey fuckers. Dom’s tonight?
I bounce my knee, waiting for one of them to confirm they’re free to meet up. My brothers, Sawyer, Liam, Carter, and I have been boxing together at Knockout since Sawyer and I were teenagers. As soon as our dad realized that our first response to a fight was to react physically, he threw us into lessons. It’s been an outlet for stress ever since, and tonight I’m feeling worked up enough that I know I’ll combust soon if I don’t get it out.
Sawyer:
Would love to beat your ass today but Ivy isn’t feeling well so pass
Liam:
Can’t today.
Me:
Fuck you both. Carter you in?
Carter:
Nah man. Ask Reid or I can meet you at The Night Owl around 9
Reid is Sawyer’s best friend, whom he met in college, and the two of them are as close as brothers. I’m not surprised that Sawyer won’t meet up, he’s had his head stuffed right up his girl’s ass since shit went down with her. In September, I got a tip from Wes, the PI Sawyer hired to keep tabs on Ivy’s ex who was harassing and stalking her. Shit went down hard. The whole thing was enough to make Sawyer act all caveman, protective of her, barely letting her out of his sight. As if he wasn’t nearing that point before she had a stalker.
I’d be the same way, so as much as I want to pummel his face in for the shit he’s causing at work, I get it and respect it. But maybe what Carter has in mind is a better idea. Drinks and pussy. Both foolproof stress relievers that are just as good as using my fists in the boxing ring.
Me:
See you at 9
I park my Audi in the back parking lot of The Night Owl, the only bar in Aspen Ridge, ready for a drink. My brother, Carter, is already at the bar chatting up a pretty little blonde I’ve never seen before. I take a seat on the empty stool next to him and flag down Ruby, the owner and bartender.
“Been a while, Dallas, what can I get for ya?”
“Just a beer to start with.”
I nudge my brother with my elbow, getting his attention. “Hey, lover boy, you invited me and you’re already bailing? Some wingman you are.”
“Can’t help that the ladies flock to me. Why don’t you worry about getting yourself laid and less about me?”
“Fucker,” I mumble. I pick up my cold beer and take a look around. Aspen Ridge is small. I usually head into the city for what I’m looking for and to keep it under wraps. My sexual appetite is on the darker side, and that news would spread like wildfire if I slept my way through AR like my brother.
The beer is refreshing and cool as it goes down, a much-needed drink after a long day. Setting my beer back on the bar top, my eyes scan the room and lead me to the door like a moth to a flame. In walks Blaire with Cole-motherfucking-Barnes right behind her. Her eyes connect with mine, instantly going wide, just as shocked to see me here. Cole removes his jacket and helps Blaire shrug out of her winter coat. My eyes roam her perfect body, and my dick stiffens in my jeans. She’s wearing her work clothes—a tight pencil skirt that hugs her shapely hips and thighs, stopping just above her knees, and a blouse in a light blue that makes her hair look even more red. She’s in fuck-me heels that aren’t practical for the weather, and has gold link necklaces around her gorgeous neck. She’s so fucking sexy.
Her attention darts away as Cole leads her to a booth, his hand planted on her lower back. Cole and I have a history, and it isn’t a positive one. Growing up, he was always trying to one- up me, but never quite had the edge I did. He’s a top-tier douche canoe, and it’s no secret that we don’t get along. The coupling actually makes sense, and an obnoxious snort leaves me as I come to that realization. She looks up at him and gives a genuine smile, her face lighting up at something he said, as I use my palm to adjust my aching cock that’s always standing at attention when she’s nearby.
Fuck this. You know what, a quick fuck wouldn’t hurt. I reach over, grab Carter’s glass of liquor, and toss it back before washing it down with half my beer. I let my eyes scan the room without looking too eager.
Bingo.
Sitting at the end of the bar, is Ava Jones. Cute, petite, not my usual type—I like ’em a little less breakable—but hot enough and giving me fuck-me eyes that can’t be misinterpreted. A little too young for me, but she’s legal and seems down for a night of no-strings-attached orgasms. I lift my beer in her direction and give her a nod. Cheers. Ava smirks before picking up her drink, a margarita by the looks of it, and sashays over to me, sinking down on the barstool on my other side. I lean into my brother and whisper under my breath, “If you’ve already been in this one, for the love of God tell me now. We’re brothers by blood, don’t need to be fuckin’ boner bros on top of it.”
He laughs and glances over at Ava.
“Nope. You’re good.”
With the all clear, I turn my body to face her, fully aware of Blaire’s presence the entire time. I can feel each time she looks my way, her eyes grating over my skin like a sharp razor. Little terror can’t even let me enjoy a drink with my brother.
“So how ya been, Ava?”
“I’ve been good. Yourself?”
“Better now.” I give her a wink. She smiles seductively at me, pushing the hair out of her face and behind her ear, showcasing a decent enough rack that’s pushed up and out of the top of her shirt. Oh yeah, she’s down for letting me hit it. I sneak a glance over at Blaire, finding her already looking my way. She jerks her head away, focusing back on her douchebag date. More patrons file into the bar, lining up to order drinks, shuffling around me, Carter, and the girls.
“Here, let’s make more room,” I suggest as I move Ava from her barstool onto my lap. She loops her arm around my neck and shimmies her ass directly over my cock. My hand stays on her thigh, one on my beer, disappointed that I’m not feeling any excitement or eagerness about this prospect. My dick shriveled up the moment my eyes left Blaire. Fuck, this is bullshit.
“Definitely more comfortable than the stool.” She rubs her ass against my lap again, but it’s not doing a goddamn thing for me. I feel absolutely nothing. Fuck. My dick and I need to get on the same page, the bastard. I look back over at Blaire as she’s standing and walking toward the restroom. I pat Ava on the thigh, signaling her to get off my lap. She turns to face me and pouts, but I’m completely unaffected. I follow Blaire to the bathroom, walking right into the ladies’ room behind her, bending down to check that it’s clear of anyone but us before flicking the lock.
“What the fuck are you doing in here, Dallas?” she snaps in the vicious tone I’ve come to expect from her, the same one that turns me on.
“What the fuck are you doing here with him ?” My feet are on autopilot as I prowl her back against the bathroom wall. Her eyes widen in shock, but not alarm.
“What I do in my free time has nothing to do with you! Are you serious right now? Leave!”
I don’t know what comes over me, whether it’s the way she sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and drags it free, her hooded, hate-filled eyes, or her deep breathing, but fuck I know she feels it too. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s this toxic, heated energy between us, but all I want to do right now is fuck the attitude out of her. I reach my hand up to cup her cheek, and she lifts her chin in defiance.
“Fuck, princess. You make me fuckin’ crazy. You know that?” I say through clenched teeth.
“Fuck you, Dallas.”
My hand moves down to her throat, and she fucking whimpers.
Whimpers.
Not in fear. Goddamn it, she likes it.
I squeeze lightly around her pretty neck, watching the motion as she swallows, and I imagine what it would look like covered in a pearl necklace of my own making. How my cum would glisten around her collarbone. That damn plump lip is being held hostage between her teeth again, her chest rising and falling rapidly, brushing those voluptuous tits up against my arm and chest. My mouth waters as I imagine what it would be like to rip her blouse open, the buttons scattering across the floor so I could free them and feast on them. They’d spill over my hand, much bigger than a handful, and I’d suck on her pert nipples until she was begging me to let her come.
Fuck.
Why do I want her this badly? I meet her glossy, heavy eyes, and there’s no mistaking the arousal I see in them. For the first time since meeting each other, we’re quiet, suspended in this intense moment, both of us frozen. I move my hand back up to her face, swiping my thumb over her lip, pulling it free. I have the biggest urge to kiss her right now. Something I never do.
“He’s not right for you,” I growl.
“Yeah? Then who is?” she challenges. Her voice is almost a whisper, clouded with lust and desire. It shouldn’t shock me, because she meets me head-on at every single opportunity, but given the close proximity, I find myself surprised at what she could be insinuating. Like I’ve been soaked by a bucket of cold water, I release her face and shake my head.
What the fuck am I doing? I can’t stand this woman, and I’m just pissed that she’s seeing that asshole, dickweed, Cole. Nothing more. I can’t act on any of my physical desires for this woman. As my employee, she’s seriously off-limits.
“I don’t give a shit, just anyone but him.” Her head bops back slightly, and her expression looks jarred. She quickly schools her features, but I swear I saw something that looked a whole hell of a lot like disappointment. Fuck.
“Oh. Well, if you’re not careful, Dallas, it may seem like you actually care.”
“I don’t. If you want to fuck him, go ahead and enjoy that needle dick. I’d be surprised if he figures out where it goes.”
“Real mature as always, Dallas. Go fuck yourself!”
I run my hands through my hair and take one last look at her. Her face is still a little flushed, but she’s otherwise composed and still looking hot as fuck. I unlock the bathroom door and bolt out of there, leaving her to herself. I don’t stop until I’m in front of my car, ready to head home for the night, not willing to sit back and watch her leave with Cole.