Chapter Fourteen
Four Days Later
It was late Thursday afternoon, and I was on my way home after my last patient of the day. I planned on staying only long enough to freshen up and pack an overnight bag. My car needed an oil change. Seeing as I was dating a Stallion, it only made sense I take it to the garage on the compound.
The garage would close for the day shortly after I arrived, but Mustang had arranged for me to drop it off before they locked up so it could be a priority first thing the next morning. My overnight bag was needed on account of I was going to spend the night at his place, which solved the issue of being carless until the following day.
We’d also planned to stay in for the night.
Well—mostly.
He was going to cook me dinner, and after the sun went down, we were going to go for a ride.
We’d reached July, which meant the days were hot, but the evenings were cool, and the forecast was all but begging us to get out on his hog. I hadn’t been on the back of his Harley in a week, and I was itching for a chance to feel the freedom I could only find wrapped around my man, out on the open road with the wind in my hair.
As I pulled into my garage, I was mentally going through my closet, trying to decide what I wanted to wear for a date night in . I hadn’t yet made up my mind when I walked into my house and immediately forgot what I was thinking.
This was because it smelled like fresh paint.
A lot of fresh paint.
I dropped my purse at the foot of the stairs, my eyes staring at my walls, painted natural linen , a shade I’d so carefully selected ages ago. I walked further into my house to find that no longer were my living room and my kitchen—two rooms that shared a wall—different colors.
'Tell me what color in what room. Brothers and I’ll come finish the job one day while you’re at work.'
I coughed out a laugh of disbelief, shaking my head even though there was no one there to see me do it. Then I hurried for the stairs, curious to know if they got it all.
I smiled huge when I hit my bathroom and found it was painted a beautiful subtle green with gray undertones—the shade titled sea salt. For a moment, I just stood there, gaping.
In one day, Mustang and his brothers had done what I’d only dreamed of doing since I’d bought the house. I barely even remembered he’d made the offer. I’d seen him that morning before I left to start my shift, and I had no idea how he planned on spending his day.
Now I knew.
I still didn’t have any idea what to wear for a date night in, but I hardly cared anymore. All that mattered was I get to him as soon as I possibly could.
I raced into my room, grabbed my overnight bag, and started chucking clothes inside. I stuffed it full, thinking I’d sort an outfit from the mess later. After a quick return trip to the bathroom for a few toiletries, I was bounding down the stairs. I snatched up my purse on my way out, and I was behind the wheel restarting my engine in no time.
It took me ten minutes too long to reach the compound. I parked on the side of the garage and left everything inside of my car, not even bothering to lock it as I headed for the clubhouse.
I was dating a Wild Stallion. I wasn’t worried about leaving my car unlocked on Stallions property. I was on a mission, and it was quite urgent.
I took two steps into the clubhouse and stopped, my eyes hunting for Mustang.
When I clocked him, near the back of the room playing pool with Maverick, I started in his direction. I was still in my sneakers, which meant he couldn’t hear my approach over the music that played through the sound system.
I was twenty feet away when I called, “Hey!”
Both he and Maverick looked my way, but my gaze collided with two pools of hazel-blue and held on—my feet carrying me straight to him without missing a beat.
I knew he understood what I was after when he set his pool cue down and braced. I took my last few steps at a run, then leapt toward him, daring him to catch me.
He didn’t disappoint.
My legs wrapped around his waist, my arms circled around his neck, I brought my lips down on his for a long, hard, flipping greedy kiss.
Maverick laughed.
Someone whistled.
I didn’t care who was watching—I was too busy thanking my man.
After I’d kissed him until I couldn’t breathe, I pulled away only far enough for me to bring my hands to either side of his face and look him in the eye as I murmured, “I’m seconds from the bottom, babe. If you don’t catch me, I’ll die at the rate I’m falling.”
I felt as much as I saw his face break out in a grin before he replied, “Sugar, you already fucked your man on the landing pad.”
“What?” I asked in confusion, still trying to catch my breath.
“You think I let just any bitch in the bed under my roof?”
This time, I didn’t bristle at his question.
Instead, my breath caught as a zing sparked in my belly.
He wasn’t finished.
“Only you, baby,” he muttered softly. “First and last, I get my way.”
All the air in my lungs left me in a whoosh.
I no longer wanted to be in a room full of people anymore.
“Mustang?”
“Right here, Tess.”
“I’m going to need you to take me down the hall. Like, right now.”
He chuckled as he started for the hallway, and a thrill raced up my spine.
He made quick work of two orgasms, and I prayed no one heard me enjoy either of them.
Then again, if they did, they’d know only that my man knew how to get the job done.
Mustang was pulling his jeans up over his hips when he looked back at me and asked, “This the thanks I get when I paint, what do I get if I build you somethin’?”
I only grinned coyly in response before I got up in search of my scrubs.
“I’m gonna hit the can then pull your car in the garage.”
“Oh, uh—I left my bags on the floor in the front passenger seat. Will you grab them for me?”
He jerked his chin in acknowledgment then instructed, “Meet me out front. When I’m back, we’ll roll.”
I nodded and he tagged his shirt off the floor, grabbing his kutte from its hook on his way to the door.
After I’d dressed and straightened myself out as best I could, I left to return to the main room. Maverick was now seated at the bar with a bottle of beer in his hand, Bull keeping him company while Twister sat with his own beer on the nearest couch. I hadn’t noticed the other two when I’d arrived earlier—but I’d been distracted.
Playing it cool, I went to say hello.
Before I could say a word, Maverick teased, “He didn’t do it alone.”
Twister chuckled and added, “Yeah, what do we get as a sign of your appreciation?”
I felt myself grow flush, heat crawling up my neck as I smiled sheepishly. “Well, I, uh—”
“Don’t pay them any mind,” interrupted Bull, totally resucing me. “You’ve done your part.”
Frowning in mild confusion, I stammered, “I—I have?”
Bull nodded slowly, piercing me with his blue eyes as he explained, “Known him a long time. Never seen him so content. Only girl who’s ever made him happy is his own. Until you. That’s not nothin’, darlin. He’s our brother, means a whole fuck of a lot. Woman like you comes along, makes one of us content, gives us something else to fight for—another reason to keep our shit clean—makes you one of us.
“As I said, you’ve done your part. You keep doin’ it. No need to thank us. You’re family now. Don’t you forget it.”
In a profound way, it felt like he’d just hugged me.
It felt nice. Better than nice.
I wanted to reciprocate the feeling, but I wasn’t sure what to say.
I didn’t get a chance to find my words before Mustang came back for me.
“Baby, we’re out,” he called from the door.
I glanced his way and nodded, then looked to Bull once more.
He didn’t exactly strike me as a man who doled out hugs, but I couldn’t help it. What he’d just given me was huge. Without second guessing myself, I took two quick steps toward him, wrapped my arms around him in a quick hug, then hurried for my man.
I didn’t look back, but I was sure I hadn’t imagined the low, soft rumble of his endearing laugh.
“What was that about?” asked Mustang as I reached for his hand.
“Just saying thanks. Come on—that cardio worked up my appetite.”
He looked back at his brothers from over my head, squeezed my hand, and then we were gone.
We had steak, potatoes, and roasted broccoli for dinner.
Like everything Mustang cooked, it was delicious.
Soon after I helped him clean up the kitchen, we were on his hog.
We rode west for nearly an hour, making it all the way to the next town over before he turned around and pointed us home.
When he pulled into his garage, I was buzzing from my road high and aching for my man.
I thought for sure we were on the same page when, after we both dismounted, he leaned down, shoved his shoulder into my belly and hoisted me off of my feet, carrying me all the way to his bed.
But I was wrong.
We weren’t on the same page.
His page was better.
Way better.
He laid me down gently across his mattress, making room for himself between my legs before he kissed me. He worked my mouth so well for so long, I thought I might come out of my skin if he didn’t touch me. I moaned and tried to work him out of his kutte, but he caught my hands and pinned them to the bed.
Finally breaking our kiss, he gave me his eyes—vibrant and smoldering—and asked, “You on the pill?”
My sex clenched and I shivered at the promise held in that one question.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Been a month since I got checked, but you’re the only pussy I’ve fucked since—that good enough for you?”
I was aching for him already, but now I was all but trembling with need, and I couldn’t manage more than a nod.
That was all the answer he needed.
“Don’t move,” he demanded before he stood.
I watched as he stripped himself naked, squirming impatiently when I saw how hard he was for me already. He’d never made me wait to have him after a ride, and I could feel my arousal leaking out of me as I endured this slow torture.
Then he started undressing me. He took his time, exploring every inch of skin he uncovered with his hands and his lips.
That’s when I knew—his page was better.
Way better.
When he finally sank himself inside of me, the only reason I didn’t start crying was because I needed him too much. I was more turned on than I thought possible and blinded by desire.
His gaze locked with mine, he pulled out of me slowly then thrust in deep and hard. He did this only twice before my first orgasm tore threw me. My back arched away from the bed, my grip at his shoulders tightened, and he stayed buried inside of me as I constricted around his length.
When I began to relax, he started up again—slow and hard.
He was making love to me.
No. More than that.
He was making love to me, in his bed—on the landing pad.
That’s when I hit the bottom.
“Mustang,” I whispered, reaching up to sink my fingers into his hair.
“You got me, baby,” he spoke softly in response. “I’m right here.”
He cupped one of my breasts on a return thrust and gave me a squeeze in reiteration.
I wanted this heaven to last forever.
For a while, it did—his patient rhythm carefully stoking the passion within me.
As my second orgasm grew, I held on as long as I could. I didn’t want to it to end.
I moaned in my desperation.
“Let go, baby,” Mustang instructed, propping his forehead against mine.
“Not yet,” I panted.
His thrusts were coming harder now, making it nearly impossible to hold on.
“Now, Tess.”
Another moan spilled from my lips, but I wrapped my limbs around him tightly as I held on with everything I had.
“Sugar, I’m there, baby—let go,” he demanded.
I surrendered, my pleasure like a wildfire that caught at my center, spreading to the top of my head and the tip of my toes.
As my sex clamped down around his, Mustang lost his rhythm, groaning deeply as he lost himself to his own climax, spilling his seed inside of me.
When we were both still, I tilted my head until my lips grazed his and breathed, “I love you, Mustang.”
He didn’t flinch.
He pulled away enough to look me in the eyes and stared at me for a moment.
Then he crushed his lips against mine, kissing me deep and wet.
He didn’t stop until he was hard again.
He hadn’t said the words, but when he made love to me a second time, I knew we were on the same page.
I’d met my match, and I was never letting go.
I was pulled from sleep the following morning when my phone rang. I rolled toward the nightstand and reached for my mobile blindly, bracing myself as I squinted at the screen. When I saw it was Andy calling, I smiled as I answered.
“Hi, big bro.”
“Hey. Where are you?”
I frowned in confusion. I was still a little groggy, but conscious enough to know that question made more sense coming from me than him.
“Um, I’m just waking up.”
“Okay. You’re up now. Come answer your door.”
I was upright in a second, clutching Mustang’s sheets to my chest as I processed my brother’s demand.
“You’re—you’re here? ” I asked, suddenly brimming with excitement.
“Yeah, Tess. I’ve been knocking on your door for the last ten minutes.”
Scrambling out of bed, I hunted around the floor for something to cover my nakedness. “I didn’t know you were coming!”
“That’s because if I told you it would ruin the surprise.”
I laughed as I grabbed the tank top Mustang had on yesterday and quickly slipped it on.
“Oh, my gosh! I can’t wait to see you. But I’m not at home right now,” I told him, as I went to look for Mustang.
“Okay,” he replied cautiously.
“Just hold on a second.”
I found Mustang in the kitchen, dressed in a pair of gym shorts and a muscle tee, not surprisingly already making breakfast.
Pressing my phone against my belly, I hurried to stand beside him. “Babe, my brother’s here. He’s at my house right now. I haven’t seen him in months! Will you take me home? He probably rented a car, so he can take me to pick mine up later.”
He quirked an eyebrow at me, as if he thought I wasn’t making sense. “Why doesn’t he just come here?”
I thought I’d hit the bottom, but it suddenly felt like I was falling again.
“Really?”
He shook his head. “Baby—don’t say shit I don’t mean. I’m already makin’ breakfast.”
I reached for the back of his neck and drew him toward me, pressing up on my toes before I kissed him short but sweet.
“Thank you.” On my return trip to the bedroom, I brought my phone back to my ear. “Andy, could you meet me here? Mustang’s making breakfast. You could join us.”
“I’m sorry— Mustang? You’re seriously sleeping with a guy who refers to himself as Mustang?”
I rolled my eyes as I closed myself in the bedroom. “First of all, don’t be a judgmental jerk. You know I hate it when you’re like that. Second, he means a lot to me, and I really want you to meet him. Plus, my car’s in the shop, my house smells like paint, and you’ll be here in ten minutes if you leave now. Please just come.”
“Fine. Text me the address. I’ll see you in ten.”
After a quick goodbye, I hung up and texted Mustang’s address.
Ten minutes wasn’t nearly enough time to get ready for the day, but I managed to hop in the shower long enough to rinse the remnants of last night’s love making off of me before I washed my face and dressed in clothes that were mine. I was pulling my hair up in a little top knot when the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it!” I cried before rushing down the hallway, my bare feet clapping against the hardwood floors.
“Tess?” Mustang called, halting me as I reached to twist the locks free.
I looked back over my shoulder to see him doing the same at me.
“Peephole, sugar. It’s not just for show.”
His warning gave me pause.
I remembered how he hadn’t allowed Mary-Kate to open the door without him when it had been Winnie on the other side. I figured he was just being a protective dad. Right then, I understood it was more than that. I didn’t know if club business had ever found its way to his doorstep—but I did what I was told.
Before I twisted the locks, I checked the peephole.
The sight of my brother, in a crisp tee tucked into his fatigue pants, like he’d left the base and came straight to visit me, made me giddy.
I squealed as I opened the door and launched myself at him.
“Hi!”
Startled, he took a couple steps back so as not to lose his balance, then wrapped his arms around me with a chuckle.
“Hey, sis.”
I breathed him in—closing my eyes at the familiar scent of fresh rain laundry detergent and Old Spice aftershave, just like dad used to wear.
“Missed you.”
“Was only gone three weeks, Tess.”
I pulled away from him with a scowl. “Overseas for three weeks, sure. But I haven’t seen you since Thanksgiving.”
Having said the words, I got a good look at him.
His hair was like mine, only more blond, and he wore it cropped short. He wasn’t particularly tall, but he was taller than me, and he was still as toned and fit as ever. His dark brown eyes were smiling, and I knew he was only teasing.
“So, did you just get back? How are you here? I thought you’d call when you returned to the states.”
“Got back last night. We were routed through Cheyenne. We’ll take the plane back south Monday. Got permission to make the trek up here to see my baby sister.”
I took hold of either side of his clean-shaven face and gushed, “Best surprise ever.”
He only grinned and shook his head at me. “Drove up here without stopping. You mentioned breakfast?”
“Yeah. Come in.” I turned to lead him inside then immediately changed my mind. Spinning back around, I stuck a finger in his chest, raised my eyebrows, and warned, “Be nice.”
He smirked, I rolled my eyes, then turned to lead him inside.
Needless to say, I didn’t have time to prepare either man for their introduction to one another. I didn’t even feel quite prepared myself. Mustang knew I had a brother in the Air Force, and Andy knew I had a type when it came to the men I dated—but seeing the two of them occupy the same room was surreal.
When Andy and I reached the kitchen, Mustang had already filled three plates with scrambled eggs and bacon. Two of the plates included a double stack of toast. This made me smile, and I went to stand next to him as I began introductions.
“Andy, this is Mustang. Mustang, meet my brother.”
“Hey,” my man said as he extended his hand.
Andy accepted the gesture, clearly eyeing the extent of ink on display up the length of Mustang’s arm. Honestly, I thought he had plenty of room to spare, and I wouldn’t have complained if he felt inclined to fill the empty space. My brother, on the other hand, had not a drop of ink on him and was always quick to question why anyone would want something so permanent marring their skin. Even his years in the military hadn’t changed his mind about tattoos.
“Hi,” was his simple reply.
I nodded to myself as the realization struck that I was obviously going to have to carry the conversation.
“Who wants coffee?” I asked, headed for the cabinet which housed Mustang’s small collection of mugs.
A couple minutes later, we sat together at the kitchen table, and I managed to steer the conversation while we ate. I asked how Andy’s drive had been, and we talked about my schedule over the next couple of days. I wondered if there was anyone in Casper he might want to visit on his way back, and he told me he was thinking of grabbing a drink with a buddy on Sunday afternoon.
Mustang was the first to have an empty plate. Andy must have seen this as his opening, because that’s when he asked, “What is it you do for a living?”
“I own a bar up the road.”
“Hmm,” Andy hummed noncommittally.
“He’s totally downplaying it,” I said. Mustang looked at me and I pressed, “It’s true. Don’t look at me like you don’t know it.”
My comment earned me a half-smile before he added, “It’s a good spot for anyone who doesn’t mind a bunch of bikers and some live rock-n-roll.”
Andy pushed his empty plate away from him, casting his gaze my way as he asked, “Is that how you two met?”
“Uh, yeah. Essentially.”
“And how long have you two been…whatever?”
Sensing my brother was now digging, the stubborn part of me replied vaguely, “We met last month.”
Mustang reached for Andy’s empty plate and stacked it on top of his own before pointing at mine. “You done?”
“Oh, babe, no—I’ll clean up,” I insisted with a frown.
“Was gonna hop in the shower, go check on your car, give you two some time.”
I wasn’t all that surprised Mustang wanted to skip the part of the conversation that involved our backstory. He wasn’t a big talker to begin with, and I knew he wasn’t going to sit around and talk about his feelings with a man he’d barely just met—regardless of who that man was.
“Okay. But leave the dishes. I’ll do them.”
He jerked his chin in a nod then excused himself.
Andy quirked an eyebrow at me.
“What?”
I didn’t give him a chance to answer before I started clearing the table. He followed me to the kitchen, leaning against the island as I stood at the sink.
“You know what I never understood?” he asked.
I turned on the faucet and said, “Tell me.”
“How you always go for the guy who’s rough around the edges when dad was as average as they came.”
Loading our plates in the dishwasher, I replied, “I don’t know why you’re bringing dad into this.”
“Isn’t that always the case with women? The relationship they have with their dad is the catalyst for all their romantic decisions?”
I couldn’t help but to laugh. “Okay, Mr. Psychologist.”
“I’m serious. A biker bar?” he asked, his voice hushed. “I just don’t get it.”
I dropped our silverware into the plastic basket, pushed in the bottom rack, then closed the door and turned to face my brother. “You want to go there, big bro? Because we can talk about me and my taste in men, or we could talk about you and how the only commitment you’ve ever made is to the military; or how you can fall in love with the sky, but not with a woman down here on the ground.”
He coughed out a humorless laugh, folding his arms across his chest as he pointed his gaze at his boots. “Let’s not make this about me, Tess.”
“Mmhmm,” I hummed teasingly.
Before either of us could say another word, the sound of Mustang’s boots began to echo softly down the hall. I glanced over my shoulder to catch a glimpse of him as he emerged and saw his hair was damp from his shower, and he was dressed in a pair of black jeans with a white tee underneath his kutte.
He was also headed straight for me.
A zing shot through my belly when he stepped in front of me and kissed me boldly, like I was his and he wanted Andy to know it.
“Be back in a bit,” he muttered against my lips.
“’Kay,” I whispered before I watched him leave.
No sooner had the door shut behind him than Andy asked, “He’s in a motorcycle club? And why do I get the feeling that the wild printed on the back of his vest is some indication the club he belongs to isn’t merely recreational?”
I didn’t get a chance to respond before Mustang’s Harley revved to life, the rumble of his engine bouncing loudly off the walls of his garage.
“Seriously, Tess?”
“Andy, I love you, and I admire the hell out of you—but I’m a big girl, and I don’t need you to protect me.”
“You met this guy how long ago? And you’re already here playing house with him. You do this, sis. You do it every time. And every time—”
“Mustang’s different,” I interrupted.
Andy pressed his lips together and tilted his chin skeptically. The look in his eyes was more communicative than any words he could say. He didn’t trust Mustang. They’d spent barely twenty minutes in the same room, and he’d already decided I was making a mistake.
“I love him, Andy.”
He looked at me like he thought I’d lost my mind. “I talked to you three weeks ago, you never even mentioned him.”
I nodded. He was not wrong. Though, I wasn’t going to tell him how right he was.
“I understand your skepticism, given my track record. I’ll let you have that. But in return, I need you to give him a chance. There’s more to him than meets the eye. I mean, look around you. He’s not some loser living in a drug-riddled shit hole.
“Yes, he is a Wild Stallion, but he’s also a business owner, and a dad. And you know what else? I do get like this, every time—and every time the guy bails, but he hasn’t. He’s different, Andy. I mean it.”
My brother stared at me, and I could see the wheels in his head turning. He couldn’t deny I had a point, not after he’d just eaten the breakfast my man made us and saw the way he’d kissed me before he left.
“I’m happy,” I assured him. “I’m even happier now that you’re here. Don’t spoil it.”
He hesitated then dipped his chin in agreement. We’d both endured enough loss that we knew the fickle nature of happiness, and we loved each other too much to rip it away from each other.
I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around his middle, resting my head on his shoulder. “I don’t need you to protect me, but I love you for wanting to.”
He grunted in response, and I smiled.
Looking up at him, I suggested, “Come with me to Steel Mustang. That’s the name of his bar. We can go tomorrow night. Saturdays are when he brings in the best bands. He’d never say it, but around here—he’s kind of a big deal.”
“Okay, okay, alright,” he chuckled. “If I say yes, will you stop gushing over the guy?”
My smile turned into a grin.
“No promises, but I’ll try.”