Hard Wood (Hard n' Dirty Book 3)

by Tara Crescent

  My ever-hopeful cock is perking up again. I think quelling thoughts at it, and haul her countertop out. “I’ll give you a hand,” Zach says. “Cat, you should finish the rest of the bottle.”

  We carry Cat’s bar top outside. “So,” Zach says. “That seemed a pretty intense scene I walked in on. How long have you known her?”

  I give him an irritated look. “Really? We’re doing this?”

  “Humor me.”

  I know just what to say to get him off my back. She’s just another woman. Pretty enough, but nothing special. But I can’t say that out loud. The words freeze in my throat. “I met her yesterday.”

  He chuckles. “Yesterday. I thought I worked fast.” Then his expression turns serious. “She seems great. I’m happy for you.”

  “Will you cut it out? Just because you are ridiculously happy being married doesn’t mean it’s right for the rest of us.”

  He smirks widely. “Marriage? Who said anything about marriage?” He shakes his head. “Penny is going to be so mad that she missed meeting Cat. Bring her to the party.”

  I think about Zach’s parties. Cat’s going to be swarmed by every eligible guy in the place, and if it’s Zach’s usual crowd, they’re all going to be rich and good-looking. A knot of jealousy forms in my gut. “Not happening.”

  I’m chasing her. I’m being possessive. I’m growling at the thought of another guy flirting with her.

  What the hell is going on here?

  11

  Cat

  What the hell am I doing?

  I’m twenty-nine. Old enough to know myself. Old enough to know that my only priority right now should be the brewpub. Old enough to know that I don’t kiss guys I’ve only just met.

  Old enough to know that it’s a bad idea to want to do it again.

  Evidently, common sense took a flying leap out of the window, because I’m seriously hoping we get to pick up where we left off.

  We get back on the road. It’s a little after noon. “You getting hungry?” Dom asks me. “There are a handful of decent restaurants in Bainbridge that are open year-round.”

  “Chinese?” I ask hopefully. There’s a lot about Toronto that I don’t miss, but now that I’m in small-town Ontario, I passionately feel the absence of food. I took the diversity of the restaurants in the city for granted.

  Dom laughs at my expression. “Chinese we can do.”

  It’s so strange. Back in the BDSM dungeon-slash-playroom, Dom set my insides fluttering. It’s not that the butterflies are gone completely—one wicked grin from him, and they’ll be back in full force—but I also feel really comfortable with him. Far more comfortable than I should.

  We pass China Palace, with a neon sign that boasts an all-you-can-eat lunch and pull into the China Garden instead. “Food’s a lot better here,” Dom says in explanation as we take our seats. The waitress brings us a pair of menus, along with a teapot and a couple of small cups.

  My lips curl up in a smile. “Are these the advantages of knowing a local?”

  His eyes hold mine as he pours the tea. “There are many advantages of knowing a local.”

  The flutters come back full force. I take a sip of the steaming hot green tea and force myself to think of something other than how much I want Dominic Wilde. “Vicki and I were so excited about opening our brewpub that we almost forgot we were moving out of the city,” I say ruefully. “I still don’t think it’s sunk in.”

  “It took me six months to stop missing it,” he says. “Even now, every once a while, I crave the energy of a big city. Especially in winter, when life in Madison slows to a crawl.”

  That’s right. He mentioned this morning that he used to live in Toronto. “How long have you been back?”

  “Almost five years.” He falls silent as the waitress comes to take our orders. I get the cashew chicken, and he orders the ma-po tofu. “Extra spicy,” he says before the waitress asks. “I hadn’t planned on moving back, but my mom had a heart attack, and I didn’t like the idea of being hours away.”

  “You’re close with your parents. Must be nice.” I sound wistful. I always do when I’m around other people’s families.

  “Just my mom. My dad left when I was eleven. I haven’t seen him since.” There’s a flat note of indifference in his voice. “You’re not?”

  “Not really. After years of being miserably married, my mom and dad finally split up when I was in high school.” Our food arrives, and it smells delicious. My stomach growls as I reach for the chopsticks. “People always say that you should stay together for your children, but as someone who’s lived in that environment, I couldn’t disagree more. My parents hated each other, and it permeated everything. All through my childhood, I walked on eggshells, afraid to open my mouth just in case I set one of them off.” Before he says something sympathetic, I change the subject. I’m not looking for pity from Dom. “Are you an only child?”

  He shakes his head. “No, I have a twin sister. Dakota. She runs the pizza place next to you.”

  “Dakota’s Pizza? That’s your sister?” I wince as I think about Vicki’s now-aborted plan to compete with her. “I haven’t eaten there yet, but everyone says it’s really good.”

  “I think it is, but I might be biased.”

  Is this a date? It feels like a date, where we’re in the ‘getting-to-know-you’ phase. I thought that casual sex would involve a lot less talking, and a lot more fucking. Not that I’m complaining. Dom’s easy to talk to.

  We lapse into silence as we eat our food. I’m thinking about his words. The only thing I have to offer is sex. What would that mean? Would we both be free to sleep with other people? Not that guys are lining up at my door to sleep with me, of course, but I have the definite feeling that Dom doesn’t have the same problem.

  “Would it be monogamous?”

  He doesn’t pretend he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. “If you’d like it to be.”

  I can’t believe I’m doing this. “I would, yes.”

  “Then that’s what it’ll be.” His expression is guarded. “I don’t stick around, Cat. Like my father, I have a short attention span. I’m not looking for anything serious. I just want to make sure you understand.”

  Like my father. Dominic Wilde is brutally honest.

  In Toronto, I would have walked away, knowing this kind of detached affair wasn’t for me. But right now, as I struggle to get my brewpub off the ground, what he’s offering is exactly what I need. Good sex, and no messy emotions. No agonizing about whether he likes me. No texting him and staring at my phone for hours, waiting for him to respond.

  “Will you ghost me?”

  He shakes his head. “I’m a big boy. I’m capable of difficult conversations.”

  I’m seriously considering taking the plunge. Then a stray thought strikes me. “Back in Zach’s BDSM room,” I murmur, my cheeks flaming as I remember how close I’d been to jumping him, “Is that why you didn’t take off my clothes? Because of the cameras?”

  He makes a face. “I remembered them at the start,” he admits. “Then I kissed you, and all thought fled my mind. Had Zach not walked in when he did,” he says softly, reaching across the table and resting his large, callused hand on mine, “We’d have both been naked.”

  I swallow hard. Yes, we would have.

  There’s a moment of stillness between us. His hand covers mine. His dark eyes study me. The air seems charged with electricity. With anticipation of what is about to happen.

  I’m going to sleep with Dominic Wilde.

  The waitress comes up to us. “Anything else?”

  Dom doesn’t take his eyes off me. “Just the check, please.”

  I start to reach for my wallet, and he waves me away. “You wouldn’t have had to come to Bainbridge if Gino hadn’t screwed up your order. This one’s on me.”

  I like paying my own way, but I also have one hundred and twenty dollars in my bank account. I’ve paid Sandra for April’s rent, but I have no idea where I�
��m going to get money for May. Vicki’s getting here in two weeks though, and I’ve got my fingers crossed that the two of us will figure something out. We always do.

  “Thank you.” Thinking about my dwindling resources jolts me back to reality, but then I look into Dominic’s eyes, and I’m trapped in his spell again. He turns my palm up, and his thumb traces small circles on the skin. A thousand pinpricks of desire stab me.

  The waitress shows up with our bill. Dom takes some money out of his wallet, sets it down, and gets to his feet. “Shall we?” he asks, giving me a crooked smile. “I have a countertop to install, and it’ll be easier to do in daylight.”

  I take a deep breath and make my decision. “Once you’re done installing it, you could taste some of my beer.” My heart is racing as if I’ve just run a marathon.

  Dom’s a clever guy. I don’t have to spell it out. His smile widens, and he holds his hand out to me. “I’d love to, Cat,” he says, his voice warm.

  I cannot believe I’ve agreed to sleep with a guy I just met yesterday.

  12

  Cat

  We get back to Madison. “Do you need a hand?” I ask Dom, eying the large countertop with misgiving. “Can you manage this by yourself?”

  He laughs. “Don’t worry about me. I’m sure you have plenty to do.” He brushes a light kiss over my lips. “Why don’t we both get caught up with work, and then we can play?”

  Whenever Will did something handy—which wasn’t often—he liked an audience. No matter how busy I was, he’d expect me to hang around and hand him stuff. Screwdrivers, screws, nails, whatever.

  Dominic Wilde is not your boyfriend, I tell myself harshly. He’s a fuck buddy. A booty call. That’s all. Stop thinking dreamy thoughts about him.

  I go to the back. Last night, I’d made one batch of beer and transferred it to the secondary fermentation tank. I was hoping to get two more batches made today, and two more batches tomorrow.

  Once the beer is made, I’ll have a bit of breathing room for a week, where all I have to do is get my small batch brewing set up, for the more experimental stuff that isn’t quite ready to go into full-scale production. And then, Vicki will get here, and the two of us can get the rest of the place set up. The walls need to be painted. Artwork needs to be hung. A couple of toilets in the washrooms need to be replaced. The to-do list is long and seemingly endless.

  Dom heads to the front. I can hear him whistle as he works. My stomach still fluttering, my mind still in shock at the decision I’ve made, I start opening bag after bag of barley, emptying them into the mash tun.

  “Hey.”

  I jump at the sound of Dom’s voice. “Hey.” I blink as I look at him standing there, tall and lean and delicious. “What time is it?”

  “Seven-thirty. That took longer than I expected.” He grimaces. “I should have guessed from the age of this place. A hundred years ago, there were no building codes.”

  “But the bar’s installed now?”

  He smiles at me, long and slow. “The bar’s up now,” he confirms. “Wanna see?”

  My insides tighten from the impact of that smile. “Yes, please. Can you give me five minutes? I just have to load this barley” I hoist a sack of grain over my shoulder and stagger up the metal ladder. When I reach the top, I pour the barley into the funnel. Dominic watches me for a second and then grabs a sack of his own. “Just empty it down the chute?” he asks cheerfully.

  I’m used to doing stuff for myself. It’s not just pride; it’s also necessity. There are too many male brewers waiting for an opportunity to crow that a woman can’t keep up with the demands of the job. All my working life, I’ve had to be tougher than every guy in the place. I’ve had to fight twice as hard as a man to prove that I deserve a seat at the table. “I can handle it,” I say stiffly.

  “I know you can,” he replies. “I’m trying to hurry you along.” He gives me a disarming grin. “For obvious reasons.”

  Warmth blooms inside me. Dominic Wilde wants me as much as I want him, and he’s not trying to hide it. He’s open about his needs in a way that’s extremely attractive.

  If I get done brewing, then I can admire his bar, and the two of us can explore this obvious chemistry between us. My need has been simmering all day, held back only by extreme will-power, but all of a sudden, I’m done fighting it. “Twenty more sacks of grain,” I tell him. “That pile there. Once they’re in the hopper, I can leave for the day.”

  “Then let’s hurry,” he says, giving me an intent, heated look. “From the moment I kissed you, I’ve been dying to find out what you taste like, Cat. All day, I’ve been fantasizing about the moment when I lay you out on the bar, spread your legs apart, and devour you.”

  My heartbeat starts to race. My brain short-circuits. I stare blankly at the shining stainless-steel equipment in front of me. Dom’s lips curl in amusement at the effect he’s having on me, though his eyes remain heated, and from the bulge in his pants, he’s not as unaffected as he pretends to be. “Twenty sacks, you said,” he prompts. “Shall we?”

  With both of us working, it takes less than ten minutes to get through the task. When we’re done, Dom gives me a wicked look. “Here’s what I want you to do, kitty cat,” he growls. “Strip naked. Head to the front. Lie on the bar, your legs spread for me. Understood?”

  I stare at him blankly. Surely he doesn’t think I’m going to obey…

  But he does. “Are you having trouble understanding me, Cat?” he asks silkily. “Am I not making myself clear?” He takes a step toward me. “Like I said on Zach’s farm, we can either do this the easy way or the hard way.”

  There’s an implacable look on his face. An answering heat in my core. My nipples are diamond-hard. There’s no hiding the truth; I’m turned on. “The windows…” I start weakly.

  “Are closed. The blinds are down. No one can see inside.” He takes another half-step toward me. “Do you know why I want you on the bar?”

  I shake my head mutely.

  “Every day, when you walk past it,” he says, low and controlled. “I want you to think of me. I want you to remember who made you come so hard that you forgot your own name.”

  He closes the distance between us. It’s quite warm in the brewery, and I’ve taken off my sweater. He cups my breasts through my t-shirt, and squeezes, hard enough that my pleasure is tinged with a sliver of pain. “It’s your choice. I can either taste your sweetness, or I can spank that delectable ass of yours.”

  A shaft of pure heat lances through me. “I thought you weren’t that into dominance.”

  “I’ll make an exception for you, little spitfire. You have one minute to make up your mind.”

  I swallow hard. Energy crackles between us. My body is alive with anticipation. Threads of desire tug me toward him, and I’m a puppet, helpless to resist.

  I lift my t-shirt over my head.

  “Cat.” There’s a crack in his control now. A raw edge of need in his voice. His eyes devour me, hot and hungry. “Fuck me, you are beautiful.”

  I take off my bra. He takes it from me and starts to toss it on the floor, and I make a squeak of protest. I’ve been brewing. The floor’s wet.

  “Let’s take this elsewhere,” he murmurs. He sweeps me into his arms and carries me out of the brewhouse. When we get to the front, he sets me down on the floor and pulls me into his arms. “All day, I’ve been dying to do this.”

  He rolls my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and I inhale sharply as pleasure spikes through me. I whimper in my throat. “Dom,” I whisper.

  His hand trails down my stomach. His fingers slide between the waistband of my jeans and my skin. “Take off the rest of your clothes, Cat.”

  I can’t breathe. A hot fire of need is burning in my core. With shaking fingers, I unzip my jeans and slide them down my hips. My practical cotton panties follow.

  I’m naked.

  “Beautiful,” he murmurs again. “Come here, kitty cat.”

  I’m not. My hi
ps are too wide and my stomach, no matter how much physical labor I do, is stubbornly rounded. But Dom’s staring at me with heat and open appreciation, and I believe him.

  Dominic Wilde makes me feel beautiful.

  I take a step toward him, and he puts his arms around me again and kisses me, deep and slow. Shivers wrack my body at that kiss, at the raspy whisper of his stubble against my tender skin. I squirm against him, needy and impatient, wanting to feel his fingers on my nipples again, wanting to feel him everywhere.

  “Tell me what you want, Cat,” he whispers into my ear. “Tell me what you crave.”

  “Touch my nipples.” I gasp as his fingers tweak my erect nubs. “Please…”

  He chuckles, dark and wicked. “I love to hear you beg.” He backs me up until I’m against the wall, and he sucks my nipple into his mouth. His fingers pluck my other nipple. I shudder as my body overloads with lust and heat and need.

  “Fuck,” he groans as I whimper. “So responsive.” He lifts me again and sets me down on the bar. “Spread your legs, baby.”

  The bar. The haze of lust in my mind clears for a second, and I run my fingers over the smoothly polished dark wood. “You made this,” I say softly. “It’s gorgeous.”

  It really is. The wood is a deep brown, so deep that it might almost be black. For the first time, I can imagine the brewpub in operation. Vicki and I have planned to paint the walls a cheerful yellow, and the contrast with the dark trim will be glorious.

  There’s an interlocking pattern inlaid at the outer edge. It reminds of me of a Celtic knot. “Hey, this looks like the trim on the outside of the building.”

  “It is.” Dom nudges my knees apart. “Look at it later.” He pushes me gently until I’m on my back, lying on top of the bar, my legs spread wide. I don’t have time to be embarrassed, because he lowers his mouth to my pussy. Then I’m lost.

  He runs his hands all over my body. He kisses the insides of my bare thighs, and my legs fall open.

  I can feel his fingers spread the lips of my pussy. He exhales, and the breath sends shivers of desire running through me. I bury my fingers in his hair. “Please…”