Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
brEWER
I sucked at keeping my distance from Delaney.
This was especially true when the man was bent over, perfect ass showcased in faded jeans, reaching for the pipe connection under the sink cabinet I’d pointed out thirty seconds ago.
Christ, how was any red-blooded man supposed to maintain professional boundaries when faced with that view?
Then again, my plan to stay professional had basically crumbled when I’d heard him through the wall last night, moaning my name. And when he’d returned from meeting Samuel Purchase, flushed with excitement about a long-lost love story?
Moth, meet fucking flame.
Watching Delaney’s eyes light up as he shared the discovery about his house’s previous owners had done something to me I couldn’t explain. His whole face transformed when he talked about things that mattered to him, and knowing how quick he was to care about women he’d never met had pulled me in even deeper.
Our conversation had continued over a sandwich dinner, Delaney getting choked up about Elizabeth hiding her paintings, me finding any excuse I could to touch him or breathe his air because I wanted to be as close to him as possible.
The strength of my reaction scared the fuck out of me. It felt like Delaney wasn’t just breaking through my walls; he was making me want to disassemble them myself, brick by brick.
“What am I looking for here, Brewer?”
I snapped my head up and squinted at Delaney. While staring at his ass was an incredible way to spend an evening, it wasn’t conducive to high brain function. “Hmm?”
Delaney shook a wrench at me. “Do I want this dealie or the other thingamajig?”
Right. Plumbing. We were working on the pipes under the freshly installed sink cabinet in the kitchen. Because, scared as fuck or not, I hadn’t been ready for good night, so when we’d finished dinner, I’d blurted out an offer to teach him about plumbing.
Because nothing said distance like seeing Delaney on his knees, head in the cabinet, presenting his tight ass to me, right? Nothing said control like watching his pants slide down his hip bones inch by inch as he shimmied around. Nothing said resistance like hearing him breathlessly mutter, “Jesus, you’re so tight,” to a particularly stubborn piece of PVC or growl, “That’s right, you fucking stay where I put you,” to the P-trap that had slipped out of alignment.
It was the most porn-tastic scenario I’d ever witnessed in real life, starring the most gorgeous man I’d ever met, and if I hadn’t already known I had a knack for unintentional self-torture, plumbing with Delaney would’ve been all the proof I needed.
Still, the man was so damn enthusiastic, it almost— almost —made the torture worthwhile.
“Okay, first off,” I said mock-severely, crouching by his hip, “they aren’t ‘dealies’ or ‘thingamajigs.’ Respect your tools, Monroe.” After a pause, I picked up a wrench and added, “You want this doohickey here, with the open end.”
“Doohickey. Got it.” Blue eyes twinkled under his glasses. “Thank you for teaching me your language, Brewer. If I’m ever off on assignment and find myself stranded in a remote mountain Home Depot, I’ll be able to communicate.”
I snorted. “Yes, you’ll stun them with your understanding of P-trap assemblies and instantly be accepted as one of them.”
“New life goal.” Delaney’s answering grin was infectious. “Now, get under here with me and tell me what to do with these nuts.”
Jesus Christ. If I continued down this path of “enjoying the ride while it lasted,” I’d be riding this fucker straight to hell.
But because I still hadn’t learned my lesson, I obeyed and slid to the floor beside him.
“These,” I said, picking up a metal fitting, “are hex nuts. They secure the pipe connections. You tighten them with the wrench I just gave you.”
“How tight do I want my nuts?” he asked, all innocence.
I rolled my eyes. “Not so tight they crack, but tighter than you can get them with, ah… with just your fingers.” I took a deep breath and inhaled Delaney’s sexy bodywash and fabric-softener scent. “You kind of have to go by… feel.”
“Huh. Will you show me?” Delaney’s voice was lower than it had been a moment before.
I swallowed and reached for his hand, wrapping it around the wrench and guiding it to the connection. “Like this,” I murmured, demonstrating the proper pressure. “You feel that resistance?”
His breath caught. “Y-yeah.”
“That’s where you stop.” My voice sounded like it had been dragged over gravel.
Delaney was silent for a beat too long. Then… “But what if I want to keep going?” he whispered.
When I turned my head, our faces were inches apart.
“Delaney,” I said softly, half warning, half plea.
His gaze dropped to my mouth, and he sighed.
“I think,” he said slowly, setting the wrench down with a soft clink, “I might be done with the home improvement portion of the evening.”
“Yeah?” I managed. My heart hammered so freaking hard I was sure he could hear it. “What do you want to do now?”
“Well. That kinda depends on you.” Delaney’s lips quirked. “You said you wanted to be professional, but last night, I… well, wasn’t .” His eyes met mine, frank and honest. “I want you, Brewer. But I don’t want to keep pushing you. I don’t want to get my way because I’m convinced I’m right, and I disregard what you want. I don’t want our hooking up, or whatever you call it, to be something that happens because I’m relentless, and you get swept along?—”
I surged forward, capturing his mouth with mine, unable to wait another fucking second.
I couldn’t remember the last time someone I cared about had prioritized my comfort like that, and the fact that stubborn, headstrong, fucking gorgeous Delaney had undid me completely.
The kiss was deep and hungry from the first touch, my tongue sliding against his with an urgency that made him gasp. His hands immediately clutched at my shoulders, pulling me closer even as I pressed him against the side of the cabinet and explored his mouth.
Fuck , I loved the taste of him. I could get drunk on the little moans he let slip.
My thumbs slid against his stubbled jaw as I angled his head, taking our kiss deeper. This was Delaney, I thought—rough and soft, prickly and pliant, hot and sweet.
“For the record?” I said, interspersing each word with kisses. “It’s not just you, Delaney. I want you, too. As much of you as I can have.”
Before it ends , I thought but didn’t say.
Because I refused to dwell on something that fucking depressing, I moved my leg over Delaney’s, fitting us together from chest to thigh, until the press of our bodies made the thought spin right out of my head.
Delaney’s answering smile was incendiary… and worth every wall I’d let down to get us here. “Then have me.” He gripped my hair in both his hands again and pulled me into another kiss.
We kissed like we were starving for each other because, even after just a few hours apart, we were.
We scrambled out from the awkward cabinet space, hands already reaching for each other before we were even fully upright. I backed him against the temporary workbench I’d set up, lifting him to sit on it and then stepping between his spread thighs. His arms wrapped around my neck as he pulled me to him once again, but this time, his mouth skated along my cheek, his tongue licking at the edge of my chin.
My cock pulsed in my jeans.
“Fucking love your jaw,” Delaney murmured. “Your chest. God .”
My jaw ? The very idea would have made me laugh if the press of his thighs against the outside of mine hadn’t stolen all my breath.
“I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” he confessed, the words skating over my damp skin and raising goose bumps. “Watching you work, seeing you in your element… it’s ridiculously hot.”
“Yeah? Hex nuts do it for you?” I slid my hands up his thighs, squeezing gently.
“Shut up.” Delaney nipped at my lower lip. “You know what I mean.”
I did. I knew exactly what he meant. Because watching him try to figure out plumbing, his brow furrowed in concentration, had nearly driven me out of my mind.
“Too many clothes,” Delaney complained, his fingers making quick work of the buttons on my shirt before working at my belt.
“Agreed,” I growled. My hands found the hem of his T-shirt, pulling it up and over his head. Delaney shivered, but I was already pulling his chest against mine and slotting my mouth back over his, warming him inside and out.
When the kiss broke, I’d somehow laid Delaney out on the drop cloth beside the cabinets. The thin cloth barely cushioned the hardwood floor, but he didn’t seem to care.
His hair was mussed, his cheeks flushed, his lips swollen from my kisses, his glasses slightly askew.
I hovered over him, drinking in the sight.
“Brewer,” he said hoarsely, his hands roaming across my shoulders and down my arms like he couldn’t get enough.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I murmured.
“Says the man who looks like he walked out of a lumberjack fantasy,” he shot back.
Laughing, I lowered myself to kiss him again. Everything about Delaney was addictive—his sweet taste, his clean scent, the needy sounds he made when I kissed my way down his neck.
“Brewer,” he gasped as I found a particularly sensitive spot below his ear. “I want you to fuck me.”
The words hit me in the solar plexus, and I sucked in a breath. “Yeah,” I managed. “Yes. Fuck yes.”
“Upstairs,” Delaney instructed. He pushed at my shoulders. “Please, Brewer.”
I knew he was right—we had no supplies down here, so if I kept him pinned to the floor, this night would end with a very satisfying frot and not with me inside him the way I wanted to be—but it was hard to make myself move. I kept going back for another drugging kiss, and another…
“Brewer!” he demanded breathlessly. He gripped my hair and pulled me back, pausing only to bite my bottom lip gently. “This is not like the cabinets.”
I frowned, trying to make sense of his words while also trying to kiss him again. “Huh?
“I know exactly what I want and what I need,” he informed me. “Are you going to make sure I get it?”
Well, when he put it like that…
We barely made it up the stairs, stopping every few steps to kiss, to shed my jeans so Delaney could run his hands over my ass, to grab him by the shoulders, pin him against the wall, and suck a bruise into his collarbone.
By the time we reached his bedroom, we’d both lost our pants and stumbled through the doorway in just our underwear.
I backed Delaney toward the bed, my mouth never leaving his, until his knees hit the edge and we tumbled onto the duvet together. He reached for his nightstand drawer, producing lube and a condom, tossing them beside us on the mattress.
“How do you want this?” I trailed my mouth down his chest and across his stomach, feeling him tremble beneath my touch.
“Just like this,” Delaney said promptly, pulling me up to face him. “I want to see you. I want to feel your eyes on me.”
That might have been the hottest thing I’d ever heard.
I nodded jerkily as I reached for the lube. “I’ll make it good for you,” I promised. “I’ll take it slow?—”
“You better not,” he said breathlessly. “Don’t you dare hold back. I can take anything you give me.”
“Anything?” I challenged. “Then let me take care of you.”
I took my time prepping Delaney, every touch deliberate, every kiss soft and slow, trying to show him without words how very all in I was.
My hands roamed over his chest and legs, feeling him relax under my touch. Patience was thin on the ground, but I’d had enough of him by now to know I didn’t want to rush it. Delaney was meant for savoring tonight, not scarfing him down in one quick bite.
When I finally moved my hand between his legs, he was biting out curses, challenging me with dares, and pretty much trying everything to get me to go faster.
“Your begging just makes me want to slow down, Monroe,” I teased as I gently smoothed a finger against his entrance, circling slowly until I felt him open up for me. His breath hitched as I slid my finger inside of him. Delaney tensed… then his whole body melted into my touch.
I moved slowly, memorizing his face, learning what made his eyes roll back in pleasure and what made his lips part in a silent gasp.
“That’s it,” I murmured, adding a second finger and scissoring gently. His back arched, and a broken moan escaped his lips. I moved up and kissed his shoulder, whispering words of encouragement into his salty skin. His body responded, relaxing further, and I slid a third finger into the heat of him.
Delaney writhed on the bed, hands gripping the sheets, hips moving in sync with my fingers. His cock was rock hard, leaking against his stomach, and his breath came in pants. “Touch me,” he begged. “Brewer?—”
“Not yet, baby. Fuck, you’re doing so well. You feel incredible.”
His slim body shuddered in response—whether from my words, or my fingers, or both—and he whimpered softly. I could feel him clenching around my fingers, his body eager for more.
And Jesus fuck, so was I.
I slowly withdrew my fingers, rolled on a condom with lightning speed, and slathered more lube over myself. I positioned myself at his entrance, taking one second to appreciate the heat radiating from him… then I pushed inside.
“Oh my fuck. Fuck. Fuck .” Delaney threw his head back, pushing into the mattress and arching his body as I filled him slowly and relentlessly.
When I finally bottomed out, I had to pause, letting us both adjust to the intensity of the moment.
Being this close to Delaney was overwhelming. I could feel his heartbeat against my chest, the rise and fall of his breath syncing with mine.
Delaney, who was usually so prickly and opinionated, looked utterly undone beneath me, and I felt something fundamental shift inside me.
This was Delaney without his armor, without his need to control everything, proving that vulnerability didn’t equal weakness.
And it was the most breathtaking sight I’d ever seen.
His eyes fluttered open, meeting mine. A soft, almost shy smile played on his lips. “Brewer,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “ Brewer .”
The way he said my name sent a jolt straight to my cock. I could already feel the heat building in my balls, the tension coiling in my gut. I began to move, each thrust deliberate and deep, hitting that spot inside him that made him gasp and writhe.
“Fuck, Delaney,” I panted against his neck. “You feel amazing.”
“Don’t stop,” he panted, his body tensing beneath me. “Oh God, right fucking there.”
I had no intention of stopping. Not when his body was taking me so perfectly, not when every thrust brought those incredible sounds from his throat, not when I could feel him tightening around me as he got closer to the edge.
His cock throbbed between us, leaking and desperate for release. I reached down, wrapping my hand around him, stroking him in time with my thrusts.
His eyes squeezed shut, his mouth fell open…
“Come for me, Delaney,” I growled low. “Let me feel you come on my cock.”
His body convulsed around me, his cock pulsing in my hand as he came, hot and hard, and the sight and feel of his release pushed me over the edge. My balls tightened, and with a groan, I came, shuddering hard, whispering Delaney’s name like a promise.
We collapsed together, our bodies slick with sweat. Every limb felt numb from exertion and the strength of my orgasm, but Delaney’s arms and legs wrapped around me, holding me in place, as though he didn’t want us to separate just yet.
I understood the feeling.
Neither did I.
Eventually, though, I did roll to the side, disposing of the condom and returning with a warm cloth to clean us. When we’d finished and I got back into bed, Delaney immediately turned to face me.
“Fuck, Brewer…” he started, then stopped like all words had failed him.
I chuckled, still boneless and breathless, and flopped onto my back. “Better than plumbing?”
He grinned. “Possibly, just the tiniest bit better,” he said with a return of his usual snark. “But we might have to practice more for me to really be sure.”
“Couldn’t agree more. Once you pick out a replacement vanity for the downstairs bath, you can do all the piping yourself. Plenty of practice?—”
Delaney poked my ribs, and I laughed before grabbing his hand and pressing a kiss to his lips.
“That is not the kind of practice I meant, Brewer.” He propped himself up on one elbow. “I meant sex. With you.”
“I know.” I pushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead—which was becoming my favorite new hobby. “And yes, there’ll be plenty of opportunities for that, too. I want to keep doing this. You and me. I can’t seem to stop myself.”
Delaney looked at me for a long moment, then settled himself against my side with a little huff that made me laugh. “Good.”
We fell silent, the easy comfort between us both surprising and… not.
It felt natural to be here with him, holding him, our bodies still humming with aftershocks of pleasure.
It wasn’t until the night deepened around us that reality began to seep back in.
Delaney had a life waiting for him outside Copper County. A career that would take him to Costa Rica and beyond. A plan for his future that likely didn’t include a small-town contractor with a complicated past who both wanted to build things that lasted… and also hadn’t let himself put down roots.
But even knowing all that—even being fucking terrified of that—I still couldn’t bring myself to walk away from him again. Not when he fit so perfectly against me. Not when being with him made me feel more like myself than I had in years.
I’d compared him to a hurricane, and I’d meant it. But I was beginning to realize that some storms changed your landscape forever.
So, no, I wouldn’t give up Delaney.
Not yet.
Not until I had to.
Not until he made me.
And maybe, a voice in my brain whispered, not even then.