She bit her bottom lip and held back a smile, only feeling a tiny bit bad as the bachelorette party swarmed around Brecken, fawning over him as if he were the only man in the bar. Suddenly, the bachelors were taking a lot more notice of their female counterparts now that they saw the competition and how badly they were lacking.

If she hadn’t seen him in his element and heard his stories of not fitting in as a kid, she would have believed he was perfectly at ease. But the clenching and unclenching of his fists and the way he held himself, which was a little too stiffly, only served as a reminder that this was a man, who hadn’t always been the successful, rich, custom-suit wearing, devastatingly handsome man standing at the other end of the bar.

“Are you gonna save him?” Michael asked, appearing by her side with a shaker filled with alcohol.

“I figured I’d let him sweat it out a little first.”

“You’re terrible. After all he did tonight?”

“All right, all right,” she said, nodding to the shaker.

Michael bent to the small fridge they kept behind the bar and pulled out a spray can of whipped cream, a devious grin on his face. “Ready?”

Following Michael to the other side of the bar, she looked back to Brecken. Somehow, he had taken control of the situation, and instead of the tense moment she’d witnessed earlier, the women all stood back, looking up at him with awe. Their expressions held none of the lust and desire she’d seen only moments ago.

“Boys and girls, it’s time for the infamous blow job shots,” Michael’s voice boomed through the bar catching the attention of the two parties. “Men, if you would be so kind as to grab a chair, I’ll send the ladies to you.” He winked and pulled the tray down from where it had been hoisted on his shoulder. “Ladies, here are your shots. Now go find a lucky man and make his night.”

January giggled, picking up a shot and walking toward Brecken. Avoiding his gaze until she stood before him, she lifted her eyes and batted her lashes. “Hmm. Do you happen to know anyone that might be interested in helping me with this—”

“I swear to God, woman, don’t even say the word. I’m in blue ball hell, and if I so much as see your gorgeous lips mouth the word blow job, I’m not holding myself responsible for the outcome.”

Inhaling sharply, she felt the truth behind his words. His hooded eyes bore into hers. Bringing the shot glass up to her lips, she licked a bit of cream off the top, not breaking eye contact with him. He let out a barely contained groan, clenching his jaw before he let out a string of curses.

Glancing over at Michael, she caught his eye and motioned subtly with her head to the back. Michael let one side of his mouth lift and held up a hand waving his fingers. They had five minutes.

Up on her tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around Brecken’s neck. “Five minutes on the clock. What’s your play?”

Nostrils flared and eyes widening as her words took meaning, he picked her up around the waist. She let out an excited giggle and saved the sticky liquid from tumbling all over them as he walked with purpose to the back.

He set her on the desk in the office and pulled her top up and over her head. His lips were on hers the instant the fabric was free. He was hard and rough against her mouth, showing her how much he wanted her, and she held nothing back, thanking him the best way she could by meeting him with the same passion.

“You taste like cream,” he said between nips at her bottom lip.

“Mmm, from the whipped cream on the blow job shot.”

“I don’t know what a blow job shot is, but you taste amazing.”

Pulling back, she looked at him quizzically. “You’ve never seen anyone do a blow job shot?”

He shook his head. “I think I was about to a few minutes ago, but I got distracted by a beautiful woman.”

Jumping down from the desk, shot in hand, she rolled the chair out from under the desk.

“Sit,” she ordered.

Cocking an eyebrow, he smirked but sat as instructed. She sat the shot glass down between his legs, letting her fingers brush against his rigid length. His eyes watched her intently, his breathing ragged, and she bet if she ran her hands over his body, she’d find every muscle tight and hard. The effect she had on him was more intoxicating than the sickly, sweet liquor she was about to drink.

“A blow job shot. Half Bailey’s, half Kahula, and topped with whipped cream. Most common shot ordered at a bachelorette party, but it’s also a favorite among twenty-first birthday celebrations.” She ran her hands down the insides of his thighs and out, gripping the smooth material of his black pants and holding on to the outside of his knees as she crouched down, hovering over the shot glass. “No hands allowed,” she said, reluctantly letting go of him and moving them so they were clasped behind her back.

“Pity. A blow job isn’t the same without minding the stepchildren.” He chuckled, leaning back against the chair.

She placed her mouth around the glass and tipped it back, catching his eye as the liquid filled her mouth and trickled down her throat. His expression turned from the playful teasing expression to the dark, alpha glare that made her quiver in anticipation.

“The shot’s just foreplay,” she said, placing the empty glass on the floor and reaching for the zipper of his pants.

* * *

“What a night,” Michael said as they flipped chairs onto the tables. “Remind me to keep it classy and go to a strip club when I get married.”

“When you get married?” she asked, surprised. “Words I never imagined coming out of your mouth.”

Michael shrugged. “I’m just saying. At least in a strip club they expect you to be drunk and sleazy. What about you, Brecken? Bachelor party in a bar or in a strip club, what do you say?”

January froze, waiting for his answer. Did he want to get married? Have kids? Holding her breath, she trained her eyes on the table as she wiped it with a wet rag.

“I’d rather have one big engagement party with family and friends.”

“What? Come on. No strippers dressed as nurses? Ooh, or cops telling you you’ve been a bad, bad boy? The bachelor party is the last chance to see another woman naked without any guilt. It’s bigger than you. You have to do it for your male friends. The bachelor party is as much about them as it is for you.”

Rolling her eyes, she threw the rag at Michael. “What are you… twenty again?”

She finally let her eyes travel over to Brecken as he easily flipped two chairs at once. His eyes never leaving hers as his lips pulled into a big smile. “Nah, strippers don’t appeal to me, but stripping… now, that’s a good idea.”

“Easy, you two. I’d like to save what dignity this bar has left.”

Her face warmed as she looked from Michael to Brecken, but the playful grins on their faces made her feel light. Happier than she could ever remember being. She’d done it. She had found two great men, and they had a genuine comradery that she had always dreamed of finding for the roles of her best friend and boyfriend.

Boyfriend? Is that what he was? Her boyfriend? The word seemed too insignificant for the way he made her feel and too significant for the time they’d been seeing one another. As usual, her ability to contradict the situation was as consistent as she was inconsistent.

“Get out of here, you two. I’ll lock up,” Michael said, picking the last chair up off the floor.

“Did you walk? We can wait and give you a lift?” Brecken offered.

“Appreciate it, but I’m staying at Carrie’s tonight. Plus, I feel bad enough I ruined your night, but I don’t know what I would have done without your help, so thank you.”

“I will always be here if you need me.” January stepped forward and hugged him tightly, hoping Michael understood how much he meant to her.