Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Nora
T he sight of Tag’s building down by the river settles my frayed nerves. For the entire ride to the loft, I was anxious, but knowing Brendan is waiting for me, I can finally breathe again. Tag’s driver pulls the SUV along the curb and stops. It’s an ungodly hour of the morning and the darkness of night has been abandoned for the muted gray of a new day.
What a night.
“One moment and I’ll get your door,” the driver says.
“Unnecessary. Thank you for the ride.”
“Wait.” The command is harsh, and I freeze with my hand on the pull for my door. The man turns back and pegs me with a serious look. “It absolutely is necessary. You’re important to one of the Quinn brothers, so from now on, if you’re in public and not with him, you need to take precautions to remain safe.”
My mind stalls out on that. I hadn’t really considered it. Besides, it’s not public knowledge that I’m important to Brendan, is it?
And we’re not making it public, are we?
No. Having my two worlds collide would be a horrible idea.
In the time it takes for me to wonder about that, the driver—I think he said his name is Aiden—has rounded the SUV and opened my door. He escorts me inside the building and waits at the bottom of the stairwell as I climb.
“There’s my girl.” Brendan stands at the top of the stairs, the door to Tag’s loft open behind him. “I thought you’d never get here. Thanks, Viking.”
“Of course,” the man behind me says.
I was wired and anxious on the way over here, but now that I see Brendan and we’re both safe, the drain of the night takes hold.
I climb the stairs, each step of the short distance taking more out of me.
The moment my feet crest the last riser, Brendan wraps me in his arms. I sink into his embrace and groan at how the comfort of his scent edges all my tension away.
“That’s right, angel,” he murmurs against my hair. “I’ve got you. Let me take all your troubles away.”
I nod against his chest, letting him guide me inside. The moment the door closes, he taps the security screen, and the familiar clicks, snaps, and high-pitched whines lock us down. Good. I don’t want anyone getting in and neither of us is in any rush to leave.
Brendan takes my purse and sets it on the little table by the door, then helps me with my coat. “I figured you’d be knackered by the time you got here, so when Tag texted that you were on your way, I drew you a hot bath. My plan is a quick soak to wash away the night, then I’ll wrap you up in a fantastically fuzzy bathrobe, and we’ll draw the drapes and snuggle-sleep the day away.
I let out a long sigh. “That sounds perfect.”
“I called Jay and told him we found you and Kate. Neither of you will be expected back until you’re both ready. At which point, your jobs are waiting for you.” He’s saying all the right things, but his deep voice is laced with a subtle growl.
“Thanks, big guy, but I won’t be going back. Turns out, the money isn’t worth it. I wanted to experience the nightlife, but I’m not cut out for it. My goal is to pursue my art, and working nights makes me too tired to have any creative thought. All I want to do is sleep all day.”
“Thank fuck.” Brendan exhales and bends over at the waist. “The idea of you going back to that place was killing me, but I didn’t want to stand in your way if you loved it.”
I laugh. “Not even a little. Do you know how sticky cosmos are when they spill down your cleavage?”
He straightens. “I can’t say that I do. Though I would happily volunteer to lick you clean.”
I could get behind that. I sway back into his arms. “Didn’t you promise me bath and bed?”
Brendan leads me through the apartment to the master bath where the oversized soaker tub is already filled with steaming water. The scents of citrus and vanilla fill the air, the golden flicker of a dozen candles dancing around the room. Bubbles pile high on the water’s surface, glowing golden in the soft light.
“I never would’ve pictured your brother as the bubble bath type.”
Brendan grins sheepishly. “He’s not, but do you remember those bath bombs I sent you? I grabbed a few for myself and have gotten quite addicted. It’s no wonder women like to soak and be pampered. They’re amazing.”
“ You are amazing.” Emotion pushes hard at the last of my control and there’s no holding back the sting building in my eyes. “Thank you for this. It was so thoughtful.”
“Hey now.” Brendan cups my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away my tears. “If you’re crying because of what happened, I’m here, but if this is because I’m good to you, that’s a problem. If that’s it, you’ll be bawling all the time because angel, I’m going to spoil you like no one ever has.”
A watery laugh escapes me. “You already do.”
He hugs me for a moment and then tugs at the hem of my jumper and pulls it over my head. When my top is off, he steps in behind me and unbuttons my jeans. “How about we get you naked, so you can get in before it gets cold?”
I don’t miss that he made the getting naked a singular event. “How about we both get naked and soak away our troubles?”
He kisses the back of my head and tugs my jeans down my thighs. “Not this time. You went through a traumatic event tonight and I see how exhausted you are. When we take our first bath together, I don’t want any remnants of fighting off attackers in your subconscious or for you to be about to fall asleep.”
I yawn, disappointed but also not. “You’re an incredibly wise man.”
“I know, right? Could you tell my brothers that? They refuse to acknowledge my genius.”
I step out of my pants and finish removing my clothes before stepping over the edge of the tub. The water is perfectly hot, and I let out a long sigh as the warmth seeps into my tired muscles.
Brendan settles onto the floor beside the tub, his back against the wall.
The candlelight plays across his face as he watches me with gentle concern. “Do you need anything, angel?”
“Not a thing. This is perfect.” I close my eyes and breathe in the soothing citrus scent. “I might never leave this tub.”
“Tag won’t mind. Though the water bill might annoy him.”
I open my mouth to reply, but the words don’t come. Sleep steals me away and carries me deep into the warm, citrus waters.
I startle into consciousness with terror exploding in my chest and the feeling of groping hands pinching my skin. With a gasp, my eyes fly open, an icy chill locked in the center of my chest. A nightmare . It’s only my mind processing the terror of last night.
I was so scared—more scared than I had ever been—though I tried not to let Kate see. Having already lost Tanya, the possibility of losing Kate gutted me.
Thankfully, Brendan and his brothers found me.
Thankfully, the Quinns fight to keep innocents safe in their territory.
I lay on my side, encased in black silk, and pull breath to the full depth of my lungs. It’s over. I’m fine. This is the second time I’ve woken up in the massive bed in Tag’s loft, but this time is better.
Because this time I’m not alone.
Brendan shifts behind me and his broad hips thrust closer, the solid shaft of his cock prodding my lower back. The panic of my dream dissolves as the bristle of his morning scruff nuzzles my neck.
A gentle snore vibrates behind my ear and warmth tickles the nape of my neck with each exhale. He’s too cute. I love that I’m the one who gets to see who he really is.
Brendan Quinn, mafia enforcer, biker, cage fighter—and snuggle bear.
Muscle-banded arms and legs wrap so possessively around me, I’m amazed I didn’t wake sooner—his limbs weigh a ton. But until I had the dark dream that woke me, I slept better than I ever remember.
Warm. Protected. Cherished.
I shift, and the moment I move, Brendan’s hold tightens. His arms adjust, securing his embrace in his sleep. That should scare me. Getting attached to Brendan will only lead to heartache in the long term.
Who am I kidding? I’m way past being attached.
I love this man.
I may have distracted myself from Tanya’s death by flirting with a bad-boy protector fantasy, but we’re way past that now. I breathe deep and draw in the faded scent of his expensive cologne infused with the unmistakable masculine power of Brendan.
A rush of heat hits my core, and I wriggle my butt against his seriously impressive cock. I bite back a smile when a deep grumble perforates his sleep. Everything in me wants to see his expression when he makes a sound like that.
With slow, deliberate movement, I turn in his arms and lay face to face.
Brendan stirs half-awake, his emerald gaze sleepy. He registers me watching him, and the smile that breaks across his face does me in. “Now you’re in trouble.”
“Oh, yeah? And why is that?”
“Because now that I’ve experienced what it’s like to wake up with you, I need to make that a permanent thing.”
If only . “As nice as that sounds, nothing has changed. My father is still?—”
Brendan presses two fingers over my mouth, silencing me. “Not yet, angel. Don’t let reality ruin this. Let’s make this bed our time-out safe space. No talk about why we can’t be together, only talk about how amazing it is to be together.”
I can get behind that. “Then, in the spirit of making the most out of our safe space, I think your morning wood should get acquainted with my morning want.”
“You mean this guy?” He grins as he pulls my hand under the sheet and presses my palm against his impressive cock. His thick length pulses in my hands and I’m so glad he’s already naked. “Any requests?”
“I’m thinking mind-shattering orgasms and you filling me until I come, crying out your name.”
“Challenge accepted. I am up for that.”
I squeeze his cock in my hand and heat coils inside me and spreads in urgent need. “Truer words were never spoken.”
He pulls the tie of the thick bathrobe wrapped around me and opens things up to gain access. The slight roughness of his calloused hands gliding over my skin makes me even hotter for him.
“Do you remember what I said last night about spoiling you?” He closes the inches between our mouths and captures my lip between his teeth. The pressure makes me whimper and then he releases me to kiss away the sting. “What you want, you shall have, from now on.”
He trails his kiss down the column of my throat, nipping at the pulse racing beneath his touch. The blankets and my robe are annoying, but he shoves them out of the way, so nothing is between us.
Finding the small of my back, he pulls me closer and then rolls me backward. I love how confident he is with my body, how he takes control and takes what he wants with me. Sinfully soft kisses trail down my collarbone and across the heaving rise of my breast.
“Hello, lovely.” He takes my nipple into his hot mouth, and I arch into the contact.
My hands fist in his thick hair and pull him closer. His fingers slide down my body, brushing over the tender flesh of my belly until he’s slicking them through my damp folds.
“I believe you mentioned mind-shattering orgasms?”
“I did.” A wave of euphoria washes over me and I revel in the sensation.
I don’t begin to understand the sexual vibration that hums through my body when I’m near him. It’s arousal, but it’s so much more. It’s belonging. It’s possession. It’s knowing that this is where I’m meant to be. Like this. With him.
Maybe Brendan is right and the Celtic goddess, áine really did bring us together.
“I want inside you, angel. I have condoms, but I swear I’m clean. If you’re?—”
“I have an implant. I’m clean.”
“So, can I?”
The thought of having Brendan bare and inside me makes makes wetness rush between my thighs. I open my legs for him in invitation. The smile he flashes me is nothing sort of breathtaking.
He groans, and hot pleasure sears my core. “Thank you, angel. I’m so fucking honored.”
If this is how the other half live, sign me up. The orgasms, the bubble baths, and lounging around half naked with a chiseled god of a man.
I stretch like a contented cat on the leather couch as Brendan moves through Tag’s loft with the grace of a predator. He’s shirtless, wearing only fitted black boxers, and I can’t take my eyes off the play of muscles across his back.
He catches me ogling him and waggles his dark brows. “Like what you see, angel?”
“Very much. I was just sitting here, thinking that you could be the model for DaVinci’s Vitruvian man. Your proportions are perfect.”
He chuckles. “Is that the naked guy in the circle with his arms out to his sides?”
“That’s the one. The drawing represented Leonardo’s concept of the perfect body composition. We studied it in our life drawing class. That model has nothing on you.”
“Och, I consider that high praise coming from a seasoned artist like yourself.”
I laugh and tug the lapels of my fuzzy bathrobe tighter together. “Hardly. I am an amateur at best. It’s been so long, I’m not even sure I can call myself that.”
Brendan disappears into the bedroom. Before he returns, he calls out. “Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so.” His voice carries that commanding edge that makes my toes curl.
I comply, tracking him as his footsteps approach. Something lands in my lap with a soft thump, and I instinctively press my hands on it.
“You can open your eyes now.”
My breath catches as I register his gift. In my hands is a leather-bound sketchbook, its pages thick and creamy. Beside it lies a set of charcoal pencils, the kind I used to spend hours with before life got in the way.
I trace the gold lettering of my name embossed in the leather cover of the book. “This is beautiful, Brendan. Thank you.”
Brendan drops onto the couch across from me, crystal tumbler in hand. “That day at the café, you lit up talking about your art. During the time we’ve been apart, I’ve come back to that moment a hundred times in my mind, and I always want to see that spark again.”
“It’s been so long…”
“You can find your muse again, angel. I know you can.”
He takes a sip of scotch, the amber liquid swirling in the glass, the prisms of cut crystal catching the light. His pose is natural yet striking—one arm draped along the back of the couch, legs spread slightly, head tilted just so.
The light of the champagne sunset streams through the window wall, casting shadows that emphasize every plane and angle of his body.
My hand itches for the charcoal. “Don’t move.”
A knowing smirk plays at his lips as I settle into the club chair opposite him. The first stroke across the page is tentative, but then muscle memory takes over. My hand moves with growing confidence as Brendan’s form begins to emerge on the paper.
It’s been months since I’ve drawn anything, but the familiar rush floods back—that electric thrill of creating something from nothing.
The charcoal feels right between my fingers, leaving bold dark lines that capture his casual elegance, the way he owns the space around him without even trying. God, he makes the perfect subject, all clean lines and dangerous grace.
Pushing all thought to the back of my mind, I open myself up and let creativity take me away.