Brewed Feelings

Caught Red Handed by the Enemy

The intercom line went dead with an unpleasant crack, leaving the penthouse office with an oppressive and stifling silence. Jaxon’s words rang in my ears, and the weight of his statement bore down on my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs. The funding. My livelihood. The minuscule and tattered thread of legacy that tied my family to its past successes, and the meager paycheck that continued to keep me from the streets. All of it was being casually, thoughtlessly toyed with by a billionaire dynasty that had no reason to associate with me or anyone like me.

“NOAH.” Ethan’s voice sliced through the oppressive quiet, lacking the usual condescension with which he patronized me when I manned the kiosk. I took a step back, my sneaker squeaking pointedly on the polished floorboards to signal my disapproval. “Don’t. Don’t you dare say anything, Ethan. You see what happens, and it isn’t just your life on the line. Victoria’s father could just as easily ruin everything for me if you continue to insist on playing with the toy he provided the last time you needed a distraction.”

“I already told you it’s not a game,” he growled out, taking long strides to close the distance between us. His hands came up to frame my face before I could take another step back, his thumbs smudging against my cheekbones in a rough caress that sent a shiver of something violent and raw straight through my spine. He backed me into the wall of his massive office desk, his fingers splayed possessively against my hip as he pinned me between himself and the expensive mahogany. The sharp scent of his cologne and the bitter tang of the quad-shot espresso sitting on the desk overwhelmed me, leaving me light-headed and dizzy with something dangerously close to delirium.

“Look at me,” he ordered, his gaze boring into my own with an intensity that made my knees weak. “I am not letting them take your job,” His voice dropped to a growl, and the possessiveness in it sent a shiver of fear down my spine. “I am not letting them take Brew Haven. I built this empire of tech to ensure that I never had to bend the knee to my father or to the Vances again. If Arthur Vance wants a fight, I will give him one. Just don’t you ever look at me and think this is some kind of game, Noah. Because it’s not.”

“Then WHAT IS IT?” I demanded, frustration and something far deeper and darker exploding free from within me. My hands found the starched linen of his freshly laundered dress shirt, bunching the fabric at his ribs as I leaned into him. “What the hell is it to you, Ethan?” I bit out, the words tearing from my throat raw with something that might have been pain. “You have everything, don’t you? The mergers, the gold-digging heiresses, the goddamn world at your feet. What the hell is it that I want?”

“Because when I look at you, I don’t see the goddamn boardroom contract,” He murmured, his mouth hovering tantalizingly close to mine. I felt his lashes brush against my own as he dipped his head, his heart pounding against my palms. “When I look at you, Noah, when I look at you in that ridiculous apron handing me my drink at the campus café, I see something I’ve never seen before. A future where I’m not drowning, where I’m not shackled to this goddamn gilded cage.

I didn’t realize I was doing it until his hands found my collar, pulling me impossibly close until the only thing separating us was a breath. I think I might have been drunk or drugged or possessed because suddenly his mouth was on mine in a kiss that stole all the air from my lungs.

Ethan growled into my mouth, his hands finding my hair, tangling possessively in the strands as he tilted my head back. He dragged me closer, his mouth attacking mine in a frenzy of need and want. His other hand came to rest at my waist, lifting me effortlessly until my legs automatically bent over his hips, impaling myself on the solid ridges of his hips. The pressure of him against the folds of my s*x sent a bolt of pure white heat straight through me, searing and bright. It was the opposite of the frigid, sterile corporate glass that surrounded us, and suddenly I couldn’t get close enough.

He kissed me deeper, his tongue probing at mine, tasting of the bitter black coffee he’d made himself earlier. I groaned in response or maybe in protest, my hands coming up to clutch the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer until our lips were fused together in a frantic search for something I hadn’t realized I was missing. His mouth was everywhere at once, the roughness of his stubble grazing my neck as he dragged his lips down my jaw, nipping a path to the sensitive indentation of my throat. There, he suckled my pulse with a gentle ferocity that had me whimpering his name and digging my fingers into his dark hair.

I had no idea where the firestorm came from or what possessed me to do it, but suddenly I was pressing against his broad shoulders and pushing him away with a gasp. My eyes flew open as I stared into his, the dark pools smoldering as he looked down at me. Ethan’s mouth hovered inches from mine, his lips bruised from the deep pressure of our kiss, his pulse hammering wildly against his throat.

“Let them try to take anything from you.” He murmured against my skin, his voice rough and strained with something that sounded an awful lot like possession. “I’ll burn the world down before I let them touch you, Noah.”

He slid his hand down the side of my neck, across my shoulder, his thumb grazing the edge of my collarbone before slipping beneath the strap of my apron. My heart pounded a frantic staccato against my ribs as his skin met the heat of mine, sending another jolt of something hot and wicked and powerful straight through me. He captured my mouth again, this time with a slow, deliberate passion that left me gasping wantonly into his arms. I forgot about the Vance family and my mounting student loans and the gold-digging heiresses and the prestigious life that waited for me outside those great double doors.

The next second, the great double doors of Ethan’s office burst open with an almighty crash that sent me bolting upright on the desk. My heart leapt into my throat as I stumbled backward, my lips already burning from the contact, my cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson, my apron rumpled and askew. It wasn’t Jaxon, and it wasn’t Victoria, standing in the doorway dressed in their usual finery. The man who stared back at me from the entrance had silver hair, and the tailored black suit he wore screamed authority.

Standing behind him were two burly men in dark suits, one of whom held out a clipboard with a signed and stamped letter. My stomach twisted into an ugly knot as I turned my gaze to the other woman standing at the threshold. My manager, Karen, stood motionless as well, her ashen complexion paling further as her wide eyes locked on mine, her mouth parted in horror.

“Arthur Vance.” Ethan spat, standing tall behind the desk. One of his hands came up to fasten the top button of his loosened shirt while the other smoothed his sleeves over his forearms in slow, methodical motions. He looked impossibly composed as he peered over at the man, his dark eyes betraying his simmering fury and the ice-cold fury that rolled off the older man in waves.

Vance barely spared Ethan a glance, fixing his calculating gaze on me instead. “I am disappoint but I don't waste time chasing boys who forget their place,” Arthur Vance said coolly, tapping his cane against the carpeted floor. He gestured for the security guards to move inside and forKaren move to the side so Vance could see the young man better. One of the guards stepped forward and placed a folded paper on the desk, setting it down right next to me with a smirk.

“Ethan, your little fantasy is over. Vance Global has officially moved in and taken ownership of the property board this morning. Brew Haven’s lease contract for your building is now void, effective instantly.”

Vance paused there, his thin lips curving into a cruel smile as he looked down at me. “And as for the little diversion on your desk, I am afraid Noah Reyes is no longer welcome here or in any of Vance’s establishment in this state. Clear out your things, boy. The police are on their way to fetch you downstairs.”