Chapter Seven
The ride back to the club was quiet, but it wasn’t a comfortable quiet. It was charged and coiled. Like every mile Brick put between them and Dillon’s school only tightened the wire already wrapped around his ribs.
Tessa was at the wheel and Brick sat next to her. He became aware of how close she was to him.
He shouldn’t have brought her to dinner. He should’ve taken her straight home, handed her off to the prospects standing guard at the clubhouse, and walked away before he did something he couldn’t undo.
They dropped Dillon off at his new home. Dillon waved goodbye and Tessa turned to Brick with that soft, tired smile, he caved.
She didn’t even have to say she was shaken. He felt it in the way she leaned into him, seeking the kind of safety only he could give and Brick wanted to give it.
It was more than was smart or sane. The diner had been a blur. He remembered there were two plates, which they barely touched, some quiet conversation, and Tessa brushed her knee against his beneath the table until he had to clench his jaw to keep from dragging her onto his lap.
Her smile softened whenever he met her gaze. She had no idea what she was doing to him.
By the time they reached the clubhouse, Brick’s control was hanging on by threads. After parking the truck, Brick opened the door for her and offered her his hand.
She took his hand automatically. Her fingers slid into his like she belonged there. Brick’s breath punched out of him. He should’ve let go but of course he didn’t.
Tessa looked up at him through long lashes, her voice small but steady.
“Brick, come inside? Just for a minute?” Tessa asked him
Everything inside him said no, but his mouth betrayed him.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Lead the way.”
Tessa’s room was small, warm, and smelled faintly of vanilla and laundry soap. A blanket draped over the foot of the bed, a half-read book on the nightstand, a cardigan tossed on the chair. She had made it her own.
It was her. Soft, gentle Tessa. A world apart from the concrete and steel of the clubhouse. She stepped inside and turned to him, closing the door behind them with a quiet click.
That sound went straight through him.
Tessa stood with her back to the door, twisting her fingers lightly in front of her. She was nervous, or maybe she was thinking. Brick wasn’t sure. He only knew he couldn’t pull his eyes off her.
Her lips parted. “I wanted to say thank you for today. For stepping in. For being there when I needed someone.”
Her voice wavered.
Brick’s heart did, too.
“You don’t owe me thanks,” he said. “I was just—”
“Protecting me,” she finished softly. “Yeah. You were.”
And damn it, that word stirred something in him he couldn’t shove back down.
He took a slow step toward her. “I told you I’d keep you safe.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I believe you.”
She looked up at him with wide, dark eyes. Brick’s pulse thudded in his neck.
“Tessa,” he warned.
Though he wasn’t sure who he was warning anymore. Was it her, himself, his whole damn sanity?
She lifted a hand and brushed her fingers lightly against the front of his cut. The touch was soft, barely there, but it felt like fire.
“I’m not scared when I’m with you,” she murmured. “Even today when that biker came at me, I wasn’t alone. You showed up. You always show up.”
“Damn right I do.” His voice came out low and rough.
Tessa swallowed, her gaze dropping to his mouth before flicking back up. “Brick...”
He shouldn’t have been standing this close, and he shouldn’t put his hands near her waist.
Brick also shouldn’t have breathed her in like she was the cleanest air he’d ever known, but he did. When she took one small step forward, closing the last bit of space between them, Brick’s restraint snapped tight. It was one second from breaking.
“Are you staying?” she whispered.
She wasn’t asking out of fear, uncertainty or politeness. Tessa was asking because she wanted him there, wanted him as much as he desired her. Brick raised his hand, using his fingers to brush along her jaw. Her skin was so soft it nearly undid him.
“I shouldn’t,” he said, but his voice held no conviction.
Her lips tilted in a small, heartbreakingly hopeful smile. “Maybe I want you to.”
Brick sucked in a breath like he’d been punched.
Tessa leaned her forehead against his chest, resting her palms lightly on his abdomen. Brick’s body went rigid, then molten. He curled his hands around her hips, not pulling her closer but not letting her go either.
“Look at me,” he murmured.
She did, slowly and trustingly. Brick felt something crack open inside him.
He dipped his head. Not fully. Not yet. Just enough that his lips brushed hers once, a question. When she answered by rising onto her toes, pressing more firmly into him, Brick lost the last of his restraint.
Their mouths met and the kiss that had started slow, turned deep. It was unbearably tender. She slid her hands up his chest and gripped his cut like she needed him to stay right there.
Brick kissed her again, this time with the hunger he’d been fighting from the moment he met her. He cupped the back of her neck with his hands, guiding her gently, keeping her close without trapping her.
Tessa let out a soft sound against his mouth. It was a small, breathy sigh and Brick nearly groaned.
She pulled back a fraction, breath shaky. “Brick...”
He rested his forehead against hers, fighting for control. Fighting not to devour her whole.
“You sure?” he asked, voice barely more than gravel. “Tell me now if you want me to stop.”
Tessa didn’t hesitate, not even a second. That was his girl.
“I want this,” she whispered. “I want you.”
Brick closed his eyes, exhaling like he was releasing years of tension. When he opened them again, his gaze was darker, softer, entirely focused on her.
“Then I’m staying,” he said, quiet but absolute.
She smiled and tugged him gently toward the bed. Brick followed, not like a man giving in, but like a man choosing something he’d tried too hard to deny.
They sat on the edge of the mattress. Her knee brushed his. Her fingers traced the ink on his forearm. Brick ran his thumb over her lower lip, marveling at how soft she was.
He kissed her again. Slower and more intense. She slid her hands around his neck, drawing him closer until their bodies fit perfectly together, warmth meeting heat in a way that made Brick’s pulse roar.
Clothes were discarded. Her soft gasp filled the room when Brick slid his hands up her sides.
He didn’t push, and he didn’t rush. Brick wanted every second of this to be something she chose, fully and freely, without pressure. However, it seemed Tessa didn’t want slow. At least not tonight.
She climbed onto his lap, straddling him, her thighs bracketing his hips. Brick’s breath locked up. His hands gripped her hips automatically, steadying her.
“Tessa...” His voice was a warning. Or a plea, he wasn’t sure.
She threaded her fingers into his hair as she lowered her forehead to his.
“I’m not afraid,” she murmured. “Not with you.”
When her confident and hungry sweet lips found his again, Brick surrendered.
The world narrowed to her warmth, her scent, her soft breaths mingling with his. Every kiss was deeper. Every touch more certain. He touched her everywhere, memorizing every inch of her skin. Her body arched into his, matching him perfectly.
Her name left his lips in a low, rough sound he didn’t recognize as his own. Brick kissed both her breasts, loving how her pink nipples had tightened. He took one into his mouth, sucking on it until she cried out. Brick did the same with the other one, leaving his teeth marks there.
They shifted back onto the bed, moving together in a tangle of whispered sighs and quiet moans and desperate, heated kisses.
Brick kept her close the whole time. He kept one hand on her back, not wanting to let go. Some part of him couldn’t even believe this was real and that she was real. Brick rolled on top of her, straddling her.
Tessa moaned as he spoiled her neck, her breasts, and stomach with kisses.
When he reached the valley between her legs, she parted her thighs willingly for him.
Tessa cried out as he traced her pussy lips, circled his tongue around her clit.
He sucked on the sensitive nub of flesh until she cried out, beautifully crying out in pleasure as she came for him.
But Brick was far from done. He momentarily peeled himself off her, grabbing a condom from his wallet. Returning to Tessa, he lifted her legs over his shoulders. After sliding the condom on, he gazed down at his treasure momentarily.
“I want you in me, Brick,” she murmured.
Brick entered her, slow and steady at first, careful not to hurt her. When he was finally balls deep in her, she let out a groan.
“You good?” he asked her.
“Absolutely,” Tessa answered.
Brick picked up the pace, settling on a rhythm which suited them both. He drove in and out of her, until both of them were panting, needy animals. Each time Brick entered her it felt like a fragment of his scarred soul reached out to brush against her sweet and pure one.
At his last push, Tessa arched her back, gasping.
Brick grinned, aiming for her sweet spot repeatedly until Tessa cried out.
She came, screaming out his name. His balls felt tight against his body and the sound of his name on her lips felt like music to his ears.
It wasn’t long before he climaxed. Brick panted softly, pulling out of her.
Brick grabbed a couple of wet wipes nearby. He cleaned them both up, before sliding next to Tessa in bed. Tessa curled against his chest. She looked so soft, trusting, and content.
****
Brick stared at the ceiling, wide awake, one arm wrapped around her waist like he couldn’t let go.
Her back was warm against his chest, tucked neatly into him like she’d been carved to fit there. Every steady rise and fall of her breathing skimmed across the surface of his self–control, smoothing out edges he hadn’t realized were jagged.
Brick had never planned on having an old lady. Not for lack of offers. Women liked the dangerous ones, the quiet ones with scars and reputations that walked into the room first. But he’d always shut that talk down.
He’d seen too many men lose their minds when the club came calling and the women they loved became targets. He’d sworn he’d never risk someone like that. Sworn he’d keep his life simple, clean, unattached.
But Tessa blew a hole straight through every promise he ever made himself.
She shifted slightly in her sleep, pressing closer, a tiny, unconscious sound leaving her throat.
Brick felt it punch right through him. This wasn’t a woman trying to stake a claim or tame him.
This wasn’t expectation or demand. This was a small, soft body curling instinctively toward him because she felt safe with him.
He tightened his arm around her, slow and almost reverent, pulling her firmly against him and lowering his face to her shoulder. Her skin still held the faintest leftover heat and sweat from their earlier frenzy.
If he closed his eyes, he could still feel her hands gripping him, her breath whispering against his mouth, the way she’d screamed out his name.
Brick wasn’t a man who believed in fate. He didn’t believe in cosmic signs or destined paths or any of that bullshit.
But here, with Tessa breathing softly against him, her heartbeat pressed to his like they shared one rhythm, Brick knew one thing with absolute certainty. She was made for him, meant for him and he wasn’t ever going to let her go.