I hold my breath when I see him pause, leaning his forehead against the doorpost.
“What else?” I finally hear him say softly.
“He said you hit the jackpot with me, but that I could do better.”
He snorts derisively as he turns around and moves toward me.
“I just bet he did.”
“Well, I may have disavowed him of that thought.”
He stops in front of me, his head low. Then he slowly lifts it and I’m surprised to see a glimmer of humor in his eyes. He reaches out a hand and cups my chin.
“Did you now?”
The annoying blush, which has been a torment my entire life is back.
“Told him I already broke the bank with you,” I confess.
Tse
Damn if that doesn’t make me feel good.
When I look down in her flushed face, my anger at Manny disappears as fast as it surfaced.
I’d been ready to track him down and let him know exactly what I thought of him approaching a woman he knows damn well is mine, but that would’ve played right into his hands. It had been a taunt, which is nothing new, needling me is something Manny likes to do every chance he gets. Making sure I know he’s still around to remind me of a past I’ve tried to leave behind.
The only difference this time is the woman standing in front of me. The way she instinctively knew what to say to break through my rage. In the past I would’ve gladly duked it out with Manny, getting my punches in where I could before brothers would pull us apart until the next time he got under my skin.
This time Sophia makes me want to be the better man. The kicker of it is, I realize not reacting will likely drive him crazy. He thinks he knows me so well, but as it turns out, Sophia knows me better.
“Thank you.”
I brush my thumb over her bottom lip before following it with my mouth. I keep the kiss light, despite the immediate need coursing through me.
Regardless of my intent to keep this weekend casual, Manny’s stunt puts me in a position where I either shut her out or let her in. It’s against my nature to share, but I owe her more than what I gave her this morning at breakfast.
She grabs the front of my shirt as I try to pull away.
“Hold that thought,” I mumble against her lips. “Let’s sit down a bit.”
I shrug out of my cut, and drop it on the couch, before grabbing her hand and pulling her back outside where the fire is still going.
“My legal name is Ben De León, probably not my birth name if I had one to begin with, but that’s the one I was given.”
I glance away from the flames and notice I have her full attention. Good, because I sure as fuck don’t want to repeat anything.
“I already told you I grew up in the system. I spent most of the time in and out of foster homes. Some were okay, some sucked, but none of them were in for the long haul. I wasn’t exactly an easy kid, but when I was about twelve, I was taken in by a couple who liked the regular checks and found ways to keep me in line.”
I glance over when I hear her shift in her chair. She’s pulled up her knees, wrapped her arms around them, and is observing me closely.
“They weren’t nice people,” she concludes.
“No. They took Manny in a few years later.” I can tell that surprises her. “He was a bit younger, but we looked out for each other the best we could. Even after we ran and were picked up by the club, we stuck together. The club going legit changed that. Manny was drawn to the darker side—drugs, money, violence, power—while I was ready to shed that life. He wasn’t happy when I chose the club over him and tries to get under my skin at every opportunity.”
“I see,” she mumbles.
“Yeah.” I reach for one of her hands and tug her to her feet before pulling her onto my lap, locking my arms around her, despite the tension in her body. “He saw you on the back of my bike, guessed you mean something to me, and decided to poke the bear.”
She turns her head, her face inches from mine.
“Just because I was on the back of your bike?”
I grin. “Fee, it may have escaped your notice, but bikers tend to be particular about who they invite on the back of their bikes. It means something.”
“Oh.”
I smile when I see that blush is back.
“Yeah, oh.” I slide a hand to the back of her head and pull her closer. “Now…where were we?”
All it takes is a brush of my lips for her to relax in my arms. Her hand comes up, fingers tangling in the longish hair brushing my collar, and her mouth opens in invitation.
Fuck.
Clear night, smell of wood fire, beautiful woman on my lap, her taste in my mouth—it doesn’t get better than that.
I slide a hand from her hip to the back of her knee and groan when she shifts her weight on my lap. My cock is painfully hard, but fuck if it isn’t a beautiful pain. Running my hand up the back of her leg, I rub the tips of my fingers along the seam of her jeans until I can feel the damp heat of her through the material.
She makes a small sound in the back of her throat I can feel down to my bones, and my resolve shatters. Suddenly this chair is not big enough for everything I want to do to her.
“Hang on to me,” I growl, hooking an arm under her knees while keeping the other firmly wrapped around her waist.
She lets out a little squeal, grabbing on to my shoulders when I get to my feet and lift her in my arms.
