Her body shivered at the way he rammed her; if they'd been naked from the waist down, she was sure his dick would be splitting her in two. Harper had to bite down on her lip to keep from moaning.
She rolled into him once more, squeaking when he tweaked her nipple with two of his fingers.
They were just trying to outdo each other now, seeing who could do more damage. Dash could split her in two if he wanted to.
Dash released a grunt from deep in his chest, let go of her tit to pull her flush against him. He thrust forward with his most immense effort yet, and then…
The sound of a glass bottle shattering broke apart their embrace. "What the fuck?" Another crash followed, and then another and another in quick succession.
When Harper had gathered her thoughts, she realized that their grappling against the pallet had pushed off an entire box of bourbon whiskey. Each bottle toppled to the floor of the storeroom, one after another.
Amber liquid pooled under their feet.
"Fuck," he erupted, then planted another long kiss to her lips, as if he wanted to make it clear he could ignore that disaster and keep it going.
She put her hand on his chest and pulled away. All she could think about was the scent of her family whiskey filling the air of the entire room, and it reminded her of working…and of her moms. "I'll help you clean it up."
"No. I got it," Dash said. "This was a bad idea. I don't know why I keep kissing you."
Harper's heart fell just a little bit. She had hoped he would have understood exactly why he had kissed her for the third time in one day, even though they couldn't stand each other.
"Because the kissing is good? Because we're both super horny, and there's a fine line between anger and passion?"
"I gotta clean up this mess," he said. "I'm sorry."
"At least let me bring you a new box. Free. My moms won't even miss it."
"Of course, they'll miss it. Anyway, the wholesale price isn't that bad. It's gotta come out of my paycheck. Declan's going to find out when he sees me cleaning up, and if it looks like I'm stealing inventory, I'm fired."
She laughed. "Don't be silly, it was an honest accident, and my moms will just replace it, no questions asked." Harper began texting Lora right away, but Dash wasn't having it. He gently but firmly grabbed her by the upper arm and escorted her toward the back door.
"Go home. This is not your mess to clean up."
Harper buttoned up her coat. "You're ridiculous," she said.
Dash said nothing as he marched her to her car parked on the street at the end of the back alley.
"Can we talk about this, Dash? What the hell is going on with you? With us?"
"Get in your car; I'm driving you home."
She tried to argue, wanted to remind him that that would mean a walk in freezing temperatures back to the bar for him, but he wasn't listening. Something was seriously off with Dash, even more than usual, and she allowed him to accompany her home.
When they arrived at her house and parked in the drive, Dash ran around and opened her driver-side door. He then walked with her to her front door.
Harper stood there with the door open and looked him up and down. "Go back to work, Dash. I'm home now."
"Good," he said. "And you're going to stay there. You don't need to be out so late by yourself."
She checked her phone. "It's eight o'clock."
He said nothing but stalked away to the sidewalk and disappeared down the street.
Chapter Seven
Dash
After the 2 a.m. last call, and after Dash had cleaned up the enormous mess in the storeroom, Declan gathered the staff around to brainstorm ideas for the bar. Determined to try new ideas to attract a wealthier clientele who would buy more expensive drinks, the owner bounced his ideas off the group. But the guys present that night were already exhausted. And Dash was so far up in his head that his irritation with Declan was turned up to 11.
"I have a list of ideas to boost our business. Next week, we're going to host a ladies' night at Crow Bar," Declan said, tucking his sharpie behind his ear.
The entire Brute Squad shouted their objections.
"Are you trying to put a target on their backs?" Levi asked.
Declan leveled a deadpan stare at the oldest of the squad. "I don't know what you mean. I have been trying to attract better clientele, but that doesn't seem to be a welcome strategy with this group, either. I have an idea. How about I close the bar, remodel, rename it, rebrand it and raise the prices? And then when that works, maybe the four of you left on staff might get a raise."
Dash squinted at Declan. "Why don't I believe you about the raises?"
Holden, who was helping the servers bus the last of the tables and sweep up, offered, "I know, how about a pool tournament? That will bring in traffic."
Declan pushed. "In my experience, people don't buy drinks, but they do hang around all day not ordering a single thing."
"Better than putting the women of this neighborhood out on display," said Dash.
"Fine. We'll put a pin in the ladies' night idea. How about a charity auction?"
Levi blinked at him. "What, like a bake sale? Shit, yes, my YaYa would be all over it. Just say the word, she'll handle it, top to bottom."
Declan held up his hand to tell Levi to slow down. "No, not that. I mean a dating auction."
"That's a terrible idea," Dash blurted.
Billy chortled. "What, you afraid your new girlfriend isn't going to show up to bid on you?"
All the guys turned to look at Dash with raised eyebrows.
"The fuck are you talking about, William?" Ricky asked.
"Harper. Didn't I just see you shoving your tongue
