11. Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
Dallas
T he following Monday, I’m eager to see Blaire. I spent the rest of the weekend replaying everything that happened in my office, feeling like shit that she could think I would use having sex with me as leverage to make her quit, fire her, or get her to comply. I’m fully aware of the line I crossed, but fuck if I could take one more minute without touching her. And the way she melted for me? Fucking hell. Vixen.
Sunday afternoon, I went into the distillery to put her office back together. Messing with her last week and making her life difficult gave me a sick kind of pleasure. Riling her up feels good, but now that I’ve found other ways to get those cheeks to brighten to a pretty shade of pink, I want to do that more. I can still hate her and want to fuck her again.
Pulling into the distillery parking lot, my eyes scan for her busted-up silver Ford Focus. Surprised that I’m here before her, I head into my office to see what’s on my agenda today, annoyed as fuck that I still haven’t found Gloria. I know it was Blaire who took her, just like she knows it’s me who keeps fucking with her schedule. I don’t want her to get too comfortable here, so I planned to drive her insane. Now I just want to fuck her senseless like my own personal sex assistant.
An hour into my day, I get a team meeting reminder on my laptop, grab my tablet, and head to the conference room. Blaire is already there, wearing what can only be described as a black bodysuit, which forms to her curves, and tucks into high-waisted, wide-leg denim jeans. She’s usually not dressed this casually at work but I’m not going to complain. Her back is to me, talking to our intern, Marcus, and I let myself appreciate the way the jeans hug her perfect, heart-shaped ass.
“Alright, everyone take your seats. Let’s get this going,” Sawyer says as he enters the room. We all take a seat at the long conference table, and I purposefully sit directly across from Blaire. Her eyes squint at me before looking away and listening to my brother ramble on. After a presentation from our CFO, Lorelei, Carter starts his.
“Alright, let’s get into the biggest news first. We’ve won, for the third straight year, Washington State Whiskey/Bourbon Distillery of the Year!”
Everyone erupts into applause, and I watch Blaire smile brightly.
“Next, we’ve been invited to attend a masquerade ball in the spring, where our whiskey will be the only brand served, more details to come, but, Hayes boys, pull out those tuxes.” Carter drones on about how we’ve grown to distribute our product, as of today, to sixteen states and British Columbia, as well as some other public relations and marketing plans, but I tune him out, my eyes focused on Blaire and how attentive she is to each item on the agenda. She takes notes and it really seems like she’s trying to learn everything she can about the company.
Liam goes next, and as our head blender, he discusses sourcing rye and barley from Walla Walla, plans for creating a straight bourbon whiskey, and current imports of wood.
“Our whiskey is different from that in Tennessee. It’s smoother. We’ve got the temperature for it—the Olympic mountains to our east and the ocean to our west—we’re in a prime spot to continue to deliver a product that is different from anywhere else in the world . . .”
The meeting goes on for another hour, and when it’s done, I speak up, “Excuse me, Blaire. Meet me in my office.”
I don’t bother waiting for a reply, and leave the conference room to head to the comfort of my office with Blaire hot on my heels. She follows me in, and I wait for her before I close the door behind us. She moves out of my reach, but her sweet jasmine smell lingers in the air and my cock stirs to life.
“Yes, Mr. Hayes?”
“Don’t start with that shit, princess. You don’t call Sawyer ‘Mr. Hayes.’”
“Sawyer doesn’t throw his weight around and act like a maniacal overlord.”
“That is literally the definition of Sawyer,” I deadpan.
“Whatever. What do you want? I need to get to the tasting room and make sure all of my glasses are where they should be so I don’t look like an idiot again.”
Instead of answering, I approach her, making her eyes widen, and she takes a step back for every one of mine until her back is flush against the wall. My hand moves to the side of her face, threading my fingers through her hair. It’s so soft between my fingers and smells just like her.
Delicious.
“I haven’t been able to think about anything other than this. What did you do to me?”
“Maybe you should see a doctor. You’re a masochist if you enjoy this toxicity between us.”
“Then I’m a masochist. It doesn’t change how addictive you are.”
Her face flushes, crimson spreading over her cheeks, neck, and the top of her chest. I lean in to kiss her, something I’ve been craving since Saturday night, when she jerks her head to the side.
“Dallas, this isn’t happening. It was a one-time thing. A lapse in both of our judgment that can’t be repeated.”
“That doesn’t work for me, princess. Now that I’ve tasted your cunt, now that I’ve experienced what it feels like to fill you, there’s no world in which I don’t want a repeat of what happened the last time we were in this room together.”
Her eyes flash momentarily to my desk, and I know she’s imagining what it was like to be spread out on top of it while I licked her pussy and fucked her so good she drenched my cock and balls when she came.
“I’m serious, Dallas. It was a one-time thing to get it out of our systems.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” I whisper as I reach out and put my hand on her hip.
“Dallas. This could ruin my job. So kindly, piss off.”
“Oh, baby girl,” I say as I grab her hand and rub the palm of it over my pants so she can feel my hard cock, “when you talk back to me it just turns me on more.”
She pulls her hand away and pushes against my chest for space. I go willingly, taking a large step away from her.
“Then lucky for you, you have two working hands that can take care of your problem. That won’t happen again.” Her voice lacks conviction, laced with lust and fighting against her desire, her body betraying her words.
She walks out of my office and fuck if I don’t love how she fights me. The buzzing of my phone in my pocket steals my attention from watching Blaire walk away.
Carter:
Party Friday for Kinsey’s birthday
Liam:
You think we need a reminder for our only sister’s birthday party?
Carter:
Yup. You’re dumbasses lint licker
Liam:
That nickname is outdated
Me:
It stays
Sawyer:
Agreed
Kins:
You guys are idiots. I’m on this thread
Me:
You literally planned it Kins, it’s not a surprise
Kins:
But still! It’s my birthday! Make it special!
Carter:
We will. By getting you drunk
Kins:
Like I haven’t gotten drunk before
Sawyer:
You haven’t
Me:
We don’t wanna hear otherwise
Liam:
She would never
Kins:
Morons. Make it special
Me:
No pressure or anything
Knowing that Carter took over plans from Kinsey a while ago, I don’t bother checking in. Since she’s a December baby, born the week of Christmas, my parents always went all out for her. They wanted to make sure there was a separation between her birthday and Christmas celebrations and that she never got passed over. Now that she’s an adult, she still expects to be treated like a queen on her birthday. We’re happy to oblige, but whatever man she marries someday will have huge shoes to fill.
Friday night rolls around after being given the cold shoulder by Blaire all week, and I’m annoyed as fuck by it. I let her have her space, but I caught her eyes wandering over me multiple times throughout meetings and in passing. On Wednesday, my brothers and I met up at Dom’s to box and release some energy and it barely took the edge off.
Getting ready for Kinsey’s birthday party, I dress in a pair of denim jeans, brown boots, and a plain white tee with a navy plaid shirt over it.
Walking back into work, the party is already in full swing. The tasting room area was transformed with black and gold decorations. We blocked off the area for a closed party, but it seems Kinsey invited everyone she knows anyway, so it was probably pointless. Her best friend, Livvy, and friends Lily, Harlow, and Emma surround her, the five of them slamming shots together at the bar. I walk up to them, grabbing my sister in a huge hug.
“Happy birthday, Kins. Can’t believe you’re already twenty-three.”
“Thanks, big brother.”
“Ladies, good to see you. Enjoying your holiday break?”
Harlow looks at me with a devious smirk and unashamedly eye fucks the shit out of me. She’s a pretty girl, way too young for me and not my type, but man if she isn’t making her interest obvious. A strong hand pats my shoulder blade in greeting, and I turn to face Wes. He’s an Aspen Ridge resident and one hell of a private investigator.
“Hey, man, how’s everything?”
I watch him move directly behind Lily and wrap his arms firmly around her tiny waist, hauling her back flush against him. She looks up at him and smiles brightly.
“Things are finally right in the world. You?”
Shocked as shit, I have to pick up my chin from the floor. Lily is twenty-one. Wes has to be pushing forty here soon, even if he looks like a solid thirty. That’s one hell of an age gap, and I’m pretty sure Lily was dating his son over the summer.
“Happy for you two. When did this happen?”
“Around Halloween. Just kinda hunted her down and made her mine.”
“Well, good for you guys. It’s good to see you all. Kins, I’m gonna go find our brothers. Behave.”
“That is not what tonight is for! Tonight is for getting hammered and living it up! So be gone! Let me live for a change!” Kinsey singsongs.
Finding my brothers standing in the back with Reid, Ivy, Hannah, and Blaire, I join the group to find them in a heated discussion about tattoos. Reid, who’s covered from his neck down to his toes, and a highly successful tattoo artist, is speaking in support of them while Carter is speaking against them. Which is not surprising.
“Do you tattoo your friends?” Blaire asks after the conversation settles down. I look at her and cock my head. Like fucking hell is Reid going to touch her body to put a tattoo on it.
“Yeah, from time to time. I did Dallas’ half-sleeve. It was a good time. I don’t mind tattooing friends, just as long as they’re sure about what they want so they don’t come at me pissed later.”
“How’d you decide on the trees on your arm, Dal?” Ivy asks.
“Aspen Ridge. It’s my peace. Wanted it with me no matter where I went.”
I meet Blaire’s eyes and she seems a bit taken aback by my answer. Like it surprised her. I’m not always a dickhead, princess. I give her a wink and she rolls her eyes before walking away from the group. The conversation is good, my brothers and I give each other shit, and Sawyer hangs all over Ivy.
My eyes linger around the room, not believing the turnout to celebrate my sister, when they settle on Blaire talking to some dink at the bar. Jealousy courses through me as I watch him order her a drink.
“Dude. Are you even listening? Who the hell are you looking at, dickhead?” Liam asks, pulling me away from watching Blaire get hit on.
“Looking for a hookup. What’s it to you?”
“Looks like you’re trying to shoot daggers from your eyes like Superman. Those weren’t hookup eyes, those were I’m-gonna-fuck-you-up eyes.”
“Shut the hell up. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Why don’t you worry about yourself, lint licker?”
Liam smacks me in the chest before walking away, and I focus my attention back on Blaire. She smiles brightly before walking away and heading toward the bathrooms. My feet are on autopilot before I realize that I’m following her. I pull the door open right as it closes behind her and quickly check the stalls to make sure we’re alone.
She spins on me, her attitude on full display, head cocked to the side and arms waving around as she raises her voice.
“What is with you and women’s restrooms? Could you not follow me in here, just once? Get out!”
“Shut up, Blaire, don’t pretend you don’t like it.”
Her face flames and she nervously pushes her wild, wavy hair behind her ear.
“I don’t,” she says, surprisingly convincing, but I know better.
“Such a little liar. What did I tell you about what happens to brats?”
She swallows and I track the movement, mesmerized by how her throat bobs. It reminds me how it felt to have her swallow my cock down and I’d give a whole hell of a lot to feel that again.
“Are you telling me that your pussy isn’t wet right now?” I grab both of her wrists in my hand and hold them above her head, putting my free one around her neck. She lifts her chin and glares at me, making my cock throb behind my jeans. “You’re not thinking about how good it felt to have my tongue inside you? How your legs trembled when I made you come? If you don’t want me, princess, then say it, otherwise I’m going off everything else, and your body is screaming that it’s mine.”
I move my hand from her throat and drag it over her chest, between her breasts, and downward until I’m sliding under her dress, my fingers grabbing onto the thin strap of her panties and pulling hard, ripping them from her body. I bring them to my nose, inhaling her sweet, musky scent, and her mouth drops open as she watches me in a lust-filled haze. Her wet panties get stuffed into my pocket before my hand returns between her legs, cupping her bare pussy roughly. She mewls and it’s the sexiest fucking sound. She’s so slick already, and I fucking love how responsive she is to me. I grind the heel of my palm against her clit, and her hips immediately respond.
“I want to watch you come, it’s so fucking pretty when you do.”
“Dallas—”
I press harder as I capture her mouth with my own, opening and finding her tongue. She responds by meeting me halfway, moaning into my mouth.
“Goddamnit, Blaire. Why do you have to feel so good?”
I continue to hold her in place, devouring her mouth while I rub over her pussy with my hand, her juices soaking me. Her hips gyrate just as the handle clicks against the lock of the door, followed by a knock.
Blaire pushes me off her, straightening and combing her fingers through her hair.
“I’m so sorry! I’ll be right out, spilled my drink and needed to dry my dress! Give me five, please!”
“No prob,” comes a voice from the other side of the door. I look at Blaire and take a step back in her direction.
“Five minutes is plenty?—”
“Nope. I said this can’t happen again. You’re the worst, Dallas! I’ll check that the coast is clear.”
Instead of lunging for her like I want to, I bring my hand to my mouth, licking it clean like an animal, feral for her taste. Her eyes are heavily lidded, her breaths coming out in pants. She’s such a dirty little liar. Taking one step in her direction, she puts up her hands to stop me.
“Stop. You need to go.”
Before I can argue, she unlocks and opens the door, peeping outside and checking that we won’t be caught before opening it completely and shoving me through it. She doesn’t immediately follow, and the disappointment that consumes me is unwarranted and unwanted.
But I can’t fight how badly I want her. At least my hand will smell like her the rest of the night.