Son of a…
“Shit.” Brody pulled away, abruptly ending the kiss as he placed his hands on her bare shoulders and put several inches of distance between them.
Having only been partially unclasped before, Ro’s bra remained in place. Thank fuck! But just like before, if he let himself look closely, he could still make out the circular shadows behind the—
Knock that shit off, King! The woman’s your friend, and she’s drunk as shit.
His subconscious was right. He was supposed to be feeding her actual food, not shoving his tongue down her damn throat or obsessing about her fucking nipples.
Nipples that were so hard right now, they were stretching the bra’s white lace as if the twin nubs were trying to escape.
Stop. Looking. At. Her. Nipples. You. Asshole.
“I’m sorry,” Brody blurted the lame apology. “I don’t…” He blew out a breath and ran a hand over his whiskered chin before offering an equally inadequate, “Shit, Ro. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
And then…he waited.
Technically she’d been the one to kiss him, but he still deserved her angry wrath. He was the sober one, and he could’ve stopped it much sooner than he had. Hell he never should have let it happen tobeginwith.
There was no excuse. Except…
But she’d been standing there, in that bra and that skirt…and when she’d said that thing about tasting him and dreams, he’d lost it.
I lost control.
That had never happened to him. Not ever. And there were no excuses or fucking exceptions for what he’d just done. Not when it came to a woman too inebriated to fully consent.
Especially not when it came to Ro.
Speaking of…
Brody studied her closely, searching for the slightest sign of justified anger or remorse. The tension in his taut shoulders and neck eased slightly when he found none.
What he did find, however, concerned him even more.
Looking more confused than angry, Ro was staring up at him with a frown. The heated gaze that had been there seconds before replaced by an almost foggy look in her glassy eyes.
“Brody?” She blinked several times as if to clear her vision.
Brody felt the slight sway of her body beneath his gentle hold. “Hey.” He brought his head down a bit to keep her focused on him. “You okay?”
“I…” Ro looked around them as if she were trying to figure out where she was. “I don’t…”
“Ro, look at me.” He lifted a hand to her chin and guided her eyes back to his. “Are. You. Okay?”
The lips he’d just tasted—could still taste—parted. The woman in his arms stared up at him blindly, and then…
Those mesmerizing eyes rolled into the back of her head, her legs gave out, and Ro passed out in his arms.
* * *
Brody Fucking King.
Fury left his back teeth grinding together as he hid in the shadows of the night and watched the nauseatingly adorable little blue house. The arrogant prick was in there right now. With her.
Talking?
Laughing?