Page 9 of Hard Bred

But there’s something else in his eyes, too—a hunger that makes my heart race.

He leans in slowly, giving me plenty of time to pull away if I want to. But I don’t, of course. I stay perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe as he gets closer.

When his lips finally meet mine, his kiss is soft, tentative, like he’s testing dangerous waters.

My heart thunders away, hardly believing this is happening. His lips are so warm, and I feel like I might melt right into his kiss.

But then, as quickly as it began, he pulls away.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he mutters, not meeting my eyes.

But I’m done with the dance we’ve been doing. I’ve waited too long, wanted this too much to let it slip away now. I lean in, closing the space between us, and kiss him back.

For a heartbeat, Brady is still. Then, with a low groan that I feel more than hear, he kisses me again.

His arms wrap around me, pulling me close, and I know there’s no going back now. Our kiss deepens, filled with a year’s worth of pent-up longing and frustration. My hands find their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the thick strands. His stubble scratches my skin, but I don’t care. All I can focus on is the feel of him, solid and warm against me, and the taste of him on my lips.

5

BRADY

Her kiss consumes me. Undoes me. Shatters me.

I break away, struggling to catch my breath. The sight of Claire hits me low in the gut—her lips swollen from our kisses, her hair working loose from that braid I’ve watched her fix a thousand times. The swells of her curves makes my cock ache so goddamn hard.

But she’s still just as forbidden as she’s always been.

“You should go home,” I grit out. But my hands betray me, still resting on her hips, unwilling to let her move away.

“Is that what you really want?” Claire asks. The question is gentle, giving me space to be honest. To say yes and mean it, if that’s what I need.

“No.” The truth slips out before I can stop it. “But you should go anyway. This is a bad idea.”

“Why?” Her eyes lock with mine, dark with challenge. “Give me one good reason.”

I let out a harsh breath, forcing myself to focus despite the distracting warmth of her body so close to mine. “I can give you several. You work for me, Claire. I’m your boss. And I’m much older than you. This could get real messy, real fast. It’s not a good idea.”

“Maybe,” she says. “But people do things that aren’t smart all the time.”

“Claire…”

“I’m not trying to push you into anything. But I need you to know that I want this. I wantyou,Brady. I’ve wanted you for a long, long time.”

Hearing her say that pulls me over the edge. The last threads of my resistance snap, and I’m done pretending I don’t want this just as badly. I’m done denying this thing that’s been growing between us since the day she walked onto my ranch. I’m just fucking done.

I pull her to me, claiming her mouth with mine, a kiss full of feverish heat. She melts into me, her body soft and yielding and hungry all at once. Her lips part, inviting me in, and my tongue sweeps in, claiming her. She tastes sweet, so fucking sweet, and I can’t get enough.

Claire’s hands roam up my chest, her fingers deftly undoing the buttons on my shirt. She pushes it off my shoulders, her palms gliding over my bare skin. I growl into her mouth, the feel of her touch igniting a wildfire within me. I grip the hem of her top, yanking it up and over her head. Her bra follows, unhooked and discarded, leaving her breasts bare and heaving.

I dip my mouth down, capturing one hardened nipple between my lips. She moans my name, a sound that sends a jolt ofuntamed lust straight to my groin. I suck and nip, lavishing attention on each breast in turn. Her fingers tangle in my hair, holding me to her, as if I’d ever want to be anywhere else.

I lower her onto her back, my hands making quick work of her pants, tugging them over her wide hips. After I get them off, she relaxes against the sofa cushions, a vision in nothing but her panties. Her thick thighs part a little, revealing a glimpse of the paradise hidden beneath the thin fabric. Her belly is soft, inviting, and I want to trace every curve with my tongue.

“You’re perfect,” I rasp, my voice hoarse with desire. “So fucking perfect.”

I slide my hands up her thighs, thumbs teasing the edge of her panties. She squirms, hips lifting, aching for my touch.

I pull the fabric aside, groaning at the sight of her glistening cunt. I stroke her swollen clit, slowly and deliberately, before slipping a finger inside her. She’s so wet, so ready, her juices coating my finger.

---