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The door to his office burst open, interrupting his thoughts. Gillian stormed in with a bewildered-looking Matt right behind her. She threw her keys on his desk.
“I quit.”
For fuck’s sake.
You owe me a bartender, Dillon.
It was dark where he was. The air thick and dank. Suffocating. The blackness that surrounded him ominous and threatening, a malevolent entity that wanted to suck him into its void. He wouldn’t let it, though. He clawed at it in his attempt to break free.
Off in the distance he noticed a pinpoint of light. He focused on it as it grew bigger and brighter, punching a hole through the darkness. The bright light was almost upon him and he sat up. He looked into it, but it didn’t hurt his eyes like he thought it should.
She straddled his lap, encircling his neck with her arms, and softly kissed his lips. Along his jaw. His neck. He wanted to hold her, but his arms were just so heavy. Like lead. He couldn’t lift them even though he tried. Her lips trailed down his chest. Her fingertips followed. She kissed and licked each ridge that defined his abs, her silky hair brushing through the precum that leaked from his pierced tip.
Kiss me there, sweet girl.
She looked up at him and smiled.
Take me in your mouth. Suck me.
He woke up to a knock at his door and his dick in his hand.
“What the fucking bullshit?” Brendan muttered to himself.
He thought about finishing himself off first, but the knock sounded again. And the doorbell immediately followed.
Scratching his head, he got out of bed and threw a pair of sweats on that he found on the floor. “I’m coming,” he yelled.
Well, I would have been. Asshole.
With heavy footsteps, he trudged down the stairs and opened the door, not even bothering to check the peephole because it could only be someone who lived here on Park Place. Which meant it was one of the Venery boys or his cousins or…
“Chloe?” He cocked an eyebrow.
She pursed her lips, glancing up at him. “You do look like shit.”
Brendan took the bags she carried as she strolled inside the house like she lived there. She practically did. Chloe was the closest thing he had to a lovable, though sometimes annoying, younger sister. But she was more than that to him. He could talk to her. She listened and she cared. Unlike most people, she wasn’t intimidated by him. Not even a little bit. He could trust her to tell him how she saw things—not that he could have stopped her if he wanted to anyway.
Chloe lived next door and was married to his cousin—and his best friend. He’d been the best man at their wedding more than nine months ago now. In the eyes of the law she was Jesse’s wife, but in their eyes and the eyes of those who knew and loved them, the three of them—Chloe, Jesse, and Taylor—were married to each other. They shared a love most people only dream of having.
“Good morning to you too, sweetheart.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek, then carried the bags to the kitchen.
“It’s afternoon, Brendan.” Chloe looked him over, her perusal stopping at the more-than-obvious tent in his sweats and her pretty hazel eyes got big. “Jesus.”
“What?” He smirked. “It’s not like you’ve never seen it before.”
She started unpacking the bags. “You should, umm, do something about that.”
“I was, until you started banging on my fucking door.” He rubbed the bulge in his pants. “Gonna help me out?”
Chloe shook her head with a grin and cracked some eggs into a bowl. “You need a girlfriend, Brendan. And a shower.”
“Not gonna happen, sweetheart. I’ll be back in five,” he said over his shoulder as he left the kitchen.
She giggled and he heard her mutter under her breath, “I would have figured you were good for at least ten.”
He took his time and came back twenty minutes later, sans hard-on, just to prove a point. Chloe had breakfast on the table for him, or considering it was past noon already, lunch. Had he really slept that late? He almost never did.
“So, what did I do to deserve all this?” Brendan sat down and tucked into the perfectly prepared meal Chloe made for him.
