Enemies With Benefits (Loveless Brothers, #1)

by Roxie Noir

and it’s different this time – softer, sweeter – but it’s every bit as good,

Then she’s through the door and gone, and I don’t even get to tell her that maybe it’s not a bad idea before it closes on me.

I spend the whole drive trying to convince myself that Violet’s right, marking the first time I’ve ever done such a thing.

Splash. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Splash. You liked it, though.

Splash. Eli’s a terrible idea. You don’t even like each other, why would you make out with him? Splash. My face is getting really clean. And you’re forgetting the maid of honor.

He kissed you and then banged her and then kissed you — but maybe he didn’t — but maybe he did — and if he did then what? You’re just another girl on a list a mile long? You could just ask. You could just be an adult, for the love of God, and ask.

Eli and I are not compatible, even if kissing him is really nice. He will hurt me and I will hurt him, because how are you supposed to have a relationship with someone who you actively want to see crash and burn?

“Eli is not Mister Darcy,”

“What did you do?” she asks. “I kissed Eli again,” I say. “Good, finally,” she says,

“I might have drunkenly made out with him that night at the brewery,”

“That’s why you were so weird,”

“Also, you weren’t drunk. You didn’t even finish your beer.” “Let...

“We didn’t get it on, we kissed,”

“I am so sorry you kissed a hot guy twice,” she says. “How terrible to have to put aside your plans for spinsterdom.”

“All the Loveless guys are hot,”

“If you ever change your mind about needing something sweet, just let me know.” Then he winks, turns, and leaves.

yeah, but what if he did, do you really want to know? and then I don’t ask. It’s been a hell of a week, is what I’m saying.

Why do all his shirts have to fit him that well? It’s unprofessional. Can I report him for being too hot at work?

Call me Martha Stewart, I guess.

“You should find out if someone’s got a heart condition before you give them that.” “Got a heart condition?” “I think I do now,”

We don’t even race to see who can make the most cranes, we just work together.

Obviously it’s not true. I don’t think harems exist anymore, and if they do, no one’s inviting a scruffy, difficult southern boy into one.

Besides, there’s no way in hell I could share a woman I like. I’d lose my damn mind.

She’s barely spoken to me since we kissed. I’ve barely thought about anything else since then. I’ve laid awake many nights, imagining her lips underneath mine, the way she grabbed me, the way she pushed her body against mine. I’ve done a lot of very quiet jerking off in my attic room.

I’m starting to think I imagined all that. All the same, I want her again. Here. Now.

I don’t know why this is the thing that’s getting to me, but it is. Sometimes things are about the experience, about putting in the work. Paying someone else to do it just doesn’t get the job done.

Violet’s a diamond in a room full of coal: beautiful, interesting, always the most fascinating thing around.

I’m smiling, despite myself, taunting her even when I know better. I can’t help myself. I never could. “You didn’t like seeing me with her because you were jealous.”

but I still want her worse than anything.

I think she’s wrong about the big picture. I give her this, even though what I want more than anything at this moment and every moment is just to kiss her again.

Apparently those muscles aren’t just for show, a fact that does not appeal to me one single bit.

they’re more than just green: they’re dark turquoise around the pupil, mossy further out, flecked with a gold-tinged seafoam. They look like an impressionist painting.

I kiss him. It’s the wrong thing to do for about a thousand reasons, but it feels like walking out of the shade and into the sunlight, that warm full-body bliss.

“You’re right,”

“This is a terrible idea.”

“Awful,”

I wrap my legs around him, pulling him in. I realize with a shock that he’s already hard, his thick length pressing against me and without meaning to, I rock my hips against him.

I want more: more of that noise, more of this kiss, more of him.

I practically leap off the table, shoving Eli away with both hands and sliding off, landing on one foot. I manage to pivot and land in one of the chairs, where I instantly cross my legs and lace my hands together over my head in the world’s most casual pose.

“That’s the most suspicious I’ve ever seen a person look.”

“I told you not to do it,” he says, grinning, his words a slow drawl. “You should listen to me more often.”

I’m very, very tempted to close the conference room door, lock it, and go back to what we were doing. Insanely tempted.

“Thanks, though. For everything.”

“Any time, Violet,” he says, his low, slow voice sending shivers down my spine. “Just holler.”

he presses his warm lips to the back of my neck.

It’s not just because my mind wanders back to the conference room every ten seconds, to the way she grabbed my shirt and pulled me in, the way she rolled her hips against my dick.

every single time I catch her eye I wink at her and she looks away instantly, turning pink.

I swear that wink gets me through the rest of the night.

Before she can say a word, I kiss the hell out of her. Violet’s arms go around me. I kiss her harder. I kiss her like I’ve been to war. I kiss her like I haven’t seen her in years, her soft warmth flooding through me, bright against the cold room. I kiss her like I won’t be sleeping much tonight, either.

It’s got nothing to do with the fact that ten minutes ago, when I popped my head into the kitchen “just to check on everything,” Eli winked at me and mouthed the words five minutes.