Chapter Thirteen
Tiffany never slept better. She hadn’t woken throughout the night, not once. Her norm, she woke at least twice. Either she was cold or hot or thirsty or a slew of other reasons.
Her eyes fluttered open. She moved just slightly and noticed it. The heat at her back and around her waist. Her head snapped down. A tattooed arm circled her waist, a large hand resting on her ribcage under her breast. She knew that tattoo, that arm, that hand.
Thomas. The warmth soothing her—his. He held her from behind, his breath at her neck, his chest against her back, and his leg tangled in hers.
She stilled, holding her breath. Why the hell had Thomas laid in bed with her?
“Shh…” His fingers grazed her stomach over her silk nighty in a soft caress. “It’s me. Relax.”
She knew. The tattooed arm, clue enough, not to mention, the smell of him everywhere. She wasn’t freaked about that. She was freaked because she woke in his arms, and it felt so good she knew every morning she woke without him, she’d remember how good it felt to wake with him. Further freaking her out, she didn’t know what possessed him to get into bed with her and hold her seemingly all night. They were friends, just friends, and they’d been that for months. Sleeping next to one another, cuddled so close, definitely crossed the friend line.
He buried his face in her neck and breathed deep. “Baby girl?”
“Y-yes?”
His hand at her stomach slid down and gripped her hip. He dislodged his jean-clad leg from in between hers and flipped her. Facing him, his sleep-hazed, sapphire gaze met hers. He grinned wide. “Mornin’, baby girl. How’d you sleep?”
She swallowed. “Fine.” A lie. A big, fat lie. She’d never slept better.
He slid a hand across her cheek. His eyes darkened. “You look beautiful in the morning.”
No, she didn’t. Thomas, though, had never looked more handsome. His midnight black hair a mess, eyes half-mast, a five o’clock shadow marring his chin and cheeks but so relaxed and seemingly content lying next to her, holding her close. All that made him look even more striking.
She shook her head. “No.”
His smile faded. “Hate it when you do that.”
Her brows drew together. “Do what?”
“I compliment you, and you either ignore it or deny it.”
“I…” She did do that, meaning he made a valid point. He always made valid points. It didn’t change the fact she did it for a reason. She couldn’t allow herself to think those compliments meant more than they did.
He tugged her closer, pushing her pelvis against his, the hard length of him pressing against her. She let out a small startled gasp. He leaned in and feathered a kiss on her forehead.
Before she could put more thought into it, he drew away, turned, threw his feet over the edge of the bed, stood, and walked out of her room. “I’ll make coffee.”
Tiffany stared at her open bedroom door, feeling like an idiot. She hadn’t asked why he climbed into bed with her, hadn’t explained why he couldn’t and shouldn’t do that. At least, he’d stayed partially clothed, wearing his jeans. Still, she should be outraged, and she wasn’t.
She never knew why Thomas did what he did. Hard to tell. She knew Thomas though. He was a biker, a lady’s man despite what Mia and Lynn claimed. He wasn’t the relationship type. His hard-on was nothing more than the need to use the bathroom that early in the morning. Even if he wanted her, they’d never be more than casual sex. She had to confront him. If she let him do things like that, she’d fall more deeply and start believing he felt the same.
She threw the covers off herself, pulled her silk robe over her red, silk, lace teddy, and strode into the kitchen. Thomas had already poured two cups of coffee. Taking this in, she sat on a stool in front of her counter.
Thomas spared a glance at her and smiled. “Perfect timing.” He handed her a mug with sugar and cream, the perfect shade, more cream than coffee, exactly how she took it. Then he leaned his hip against her counter and took a sip of his. No doubt, it was black, no sugar.
She stared into her perfect shade of coffee, a reminder he knew her well. She loved that. She loved everything about him. Releasing a breath, she whispered, “Thomas…we need to talk.”
He placed his mug on the counter with a thud. Her head shot up, gaze meeting his.
Jaw hard, gaze narrowed, he crossed his arms over his bare chest and lifted his chin. “Yeah, what about?”
She swallowed. “Y-you can’t…” Her gaze trailed to his broad chest, down his sculpted abs. Damn. She was losing her nerve staring at him. Who could blame her? Shirtless, tatted, and even looking peeved, he was hot. Not to mention, she was in love with him.
She shook her head to rid herself of the thought. She had to focus, couldn’t let herself fall deeper in love with a man who’d never be hers. “You can’t get in bed with me.”
He walked around the counter, gripped the side of her stool, and turned it. Face to face, he rested his weight on his hands, leaning into her and forcing her to tilt back. “I can, and I will.”
Great. Bossy, hardheaded Thomas. “Thomas—”
“Don’t want any lip, baby girl. Though love it when you give it to me, it’s too early. Haven’t had much coffee or a decent meal, so I’m gonna say this real quick.”
He looked down at her lips, slid his thumb along them then caught her gaze again. “Things are gonna change between you and me. We’re good the way we are now, but I know we’ll be better as more, so I’m taking us there. It means I will get in bed with you. It means I will touch you, hold you, and kiss you. It means you’re off limits to everyone but me.”
She heard him, all of everything he said but couldn’t for the life of her grasp it. “W-what?”
“Been taking care of you for a while now, Tiff, biding my time, waiting ’cause I wanted you to trust me. Seems to me, I’ve waited too long for nothing ’cause you still don’t believe shit when I tell you. Should’ve gotten into bed with you that first night in LA, so you’d know how good it felt to be held by me then should’ve kissed you at that lounge, claimed you in front of everyone. Maybe then, you would’ve believed me.”
A dream, had to be. No way was Thomas standing in front of her, saying what she thought, which so happened to be everything she ever wanted.
“W-what?”
He straightened and sighed heavily. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You don’t trust me. I’ve been looking out for you for more than seven years, and you don’t trust me.”
“I do trust…”
Eyes spitting fire, he hauled himself away then turned. He stayed that way for a moment then faced her, looking more calm. “You don’t. You trusted me, you’d believe what I just said, and you don’t. I know ’cause I can see your mind spinning, making excuses, forcing yourself not to believe everything I just said.”
“I-I…” She shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s just…” They’d been friends for months, just friends. It had been years, and they’d never been more. Why now? “We’re friends.”
“Yeah, and now, we’re gonna be more.”
She shook her head, again, not what she meant. “It doesn’t make sense. Why now?”
He clenched his jaw then through gritted teeth, he said, “Told you I was biding my time, waiting for you to trust me.”
“It’s been years. You’ve never—”
All she managed. The next instant, he snaked an arm around her back, dug his fingers into her hair, and slammed his lips against hers, leaving her breathless. He then parted his mouth and drove his tongue into her.
She didn’t fight.
She couldn’t.
His tongue so skillfully entwined with hers that she lost herself in his kiss, in him. She barely noticed when his hands cupped her bottom, when she wrapped her legs around his waist, when he set her on the counter.
His hands roamed her, legs, thighs, waist, hips. She shivered then hooked her arms around his neck, wanting, needing more. He complied, pressing her hips against his. The hardness of his shaft at her core, liquid pooled there. She moaned into his mouth. Her hand at his back then trailed up his neck to his hair, running her fingers through it.
He cupped her cheeks. With a groan, he tore himself away.
Her arms fell away just as she gasped for breath. Heart slamming hard against her ribs, her gaze met his hooded one.
Jaw set, muscles on his shoulders tense and bulging as if fighting an unknown force.
After a long moment, he pressed his forehead against hers. “You want me, Tiff, maybe even as bad as I want you. Don’t fight it. Don’t fight me. We’ll be great together. I know this ’cause we’re great together now. I’ll be good to you. I promise.”
Her heart pounded louder, over his words, but she heard them and continued to hear them replaying in her mind long after he said them. Still, she couldn’t believe it—what he said, what he wanted.
“Baby girl.” Eyes pleading, hands at her cheeks, his fingers dug into her.
Her gaze snapped back to his, and she realized he was waiting for a response of some sort. She didn’t know what it was, so she listened once more to the words replaying in her mind.
She still didn’t know what to think. She knew Thomas, all badass, lady’s man biker, the same Thomas she fell for from afar at the ripe age of fourteen, the man who saved her one too many times, the man she’d never been able to forget. She should protect herself, her heart.
She didn’t do this. She threw caution to the wind because he was all she ever wanted, because she’d never know if she didn’t try, and because that was the best kiss she ever had.
She nodded.
Totally worth it. He smiled at her like he’d never smiled at her before, a full, wide, unhindered grin. Then he pressed his lips against hers in a chaste kiss, that one just as amazing even if it didn’t last long.
He reached behind her, grabbed their coffees, and handed one to her.
She drank it, avoiding his stare.
Not a moment later, he lifted her chin with his finger forcing her gaze to meet his. “None of that.”
She quirked a brow. “None of what?”
He set his coffee on the counter, placed each hand at her sides, and leaned into her. “Whatever fucked shit you’re thinking, stop it. Nothing’s gonna get weird between us. It’s only gonna get better. I promise you.”
God, he knew her so well. She loved it. “Okay.”
He ran the back of his fingers down her cheek. “Gonna take my girl out tonight.”
His girl. He said it again. This time, it made sense. He wanted her for however long it lasted.
“Would that make my girl happy?”
She was already happy. Worried and concerned too, but still happy, happy in the way a woman was when the man of her dreams told her he felt the same, not that it’s what Thomas did. He never said anything about loving her. He simply said he wanted her and wanted to try. Didn’t matter, it felt just as great to hear, so she didn’t need him to take her out.
“I can cook…”
He shook his head. “Not tonight. Tonight, I’m taking my girl out, gonna show her off. Plus, I know you like getting dressed up. Wanna give that to you. You wear a dress for me?”
She’d wear a paper bag if it’s what he wanted. She didn’t say this. Nope. She just nodded.
He smiled then kissed her lips softly. It lasted longer than the last and yet not long enough, but still amazing.
“Gotta get some work done. Be back around six.” He turned and strode away.
She lost sight of him for a minute. When he appeared, he had his shirt, cut, and boots on. He then grabbed his wallet and keys from the dining room table. Before he walked out of her front door, he looked over his shoulder, giving her one last look. His sapphire gaze hungry and hooded, he grinned.
She sat on her counter, where he’d put her, a long while after, grinning like a fool, thinking she had the three best kisses of her life in just a few minutes. She could definitely get used to that.
****
Cuss didn’t want to leave her, didn’t want her alone with her thoughts. In regards to him, her mind often worked against her, but Tiffany needed time alone to digest everything he said.
The “talk” he’d thought about for months didn’t go as planned. The entire time, it felt like he’d been convincing her she should give them a chance. Not ideal, he shouldn’t have to convince her. She should’ve agreed, knowing she wanted him. She should’ve admitted it and given into it.
He had no illusions she felt for him even half of what he felt for her, but he hoped knowing him as well as she did, she wouldn’t have been on edge about them. She should’ve been more willing to give them a chance.
None of it mattered much now. She agreed to give them a try. Then again, it didn’t mean between now and the time he planned to pick her up for their date, she wouldn’t have a change of heart. Not much he could do, but he’d worry about it. And so, he was trying to get his mind off it as much as possible. The reason he was at the garage with his head buried under the hood of a ‘75 Camaro on a Saturday. The owner brought the beat up car in two weeks ago and was paying a pretty penny to have it fully restored. The problem, the engine was fucked. Namely, the owner wanting to keep everything original wanted to rebuild the engine instead of buy a new one. They had it rebuilt. Midweek, he started it. It began trembling then died. He checked the oil and spotted metal shavings. Big problem, it could be a slew of shit and would inevitably lengthen the time till the Camaro would be completed. He planned on getting it done yesterday, but because of club business the night before, he hadn’t been able to.
“Brother.”
He lifted his head slightly, turned it, and spotted Blaze, standing beside him. Thinking about Tiff, he hadn’t heard him come near.
“Why you working on this today? Thought you were gonna take care of shit.”
He straightened, making sure he didn’t slam his head on the hood of the car, and met Blaze’s stare. His brows furrowed.
“Looked like you were gonna finally tell your girl.”
Blaze didn’t miss a thing. Case in point, he picked up on the fact Cuss got tired of waiting and made the decision to tell Tiff.
“I did.”
Blaze reached into his back pocket, pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and inhaled. He did this never losing hold of his gaze, and he did this waiting for him to elaborate.
“Told her I’m taking us to the next level.”
Blaze blew out a puff of smoke. “And she agreed?”
He nodded, yanked out the towel tucked in his back pocket, and wiped his grease-stained hands.
“Don’t tell me after years, you’re done with her ’cause she wants you, too.”
Done with her? He’d never be done with her. “Not the case. She’s mine. Always has been. Always will be. Just hate convincing her to be with me.”
Blaze lifted a brow then chuckled and took another puff of his cigarette. “Probably having a hard time believing after all this time, shit’s gonna change.”
Cuss’s jaw clenched. “Come again?”
“You been friends for years, just friends. She’s having a hard time believing you want more.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why the fuck have I been her friend all this time, protecting her and taking care of her?”
Blaze chuckled again.
Infuriating. Nothing about this was funny. They were talking about his girl, the girl he’d wanted for more than seven years. The girl after only months of being just friends, he couldn’t picture his life without.
“Yeah, Cuss. I get that. Our brothers get that. Hell, anyone with a dick gets that, but she ain’t a man. She doesn’t get that.”
His stomach rolled.
“Plus, you’re a biker with a rep, and your rep precedes you ’cause it’s a small town, ’cause your girl ain’t stupid or blind, ’cause she’s got friends, and women talk. She knows all it takes for you to get laid is one look, knows you never been even half serious about anyone.”
His muscles, his whole body tightened. He didn’t like to hear this shit, even though he didn’t fully grasp what Blaze was trying to tell him. Mouth tight, he threw the towel on the floor. “So?”
Blaze gave him a level stare. “People don’t change, Cuss.”
Heat creeping up his cheeks, the simmering anger he held at bay boiled and spilled over. He grabbed Blaze by the shirt and slammed him against the racks lining the back wall of the garage stacked with supplies, several toppling over and around them. “Haven’t had sex in months ’cause it’s no use. I could fuck twenty taps, and I’d still be craving release ’cause what I need is her.”
He drew Blaze away, shoved him harder against the rack, and released him. “Don’t tell me people don’t change.”
Blaze straightened his cut, took a puff of his cigarette, and exhaled. “Not saying you haven’t, saying people generally don’t. Means you gotta prove to her you have.”
Blaze made his point, and he got in his face about it. Shit. He was so messed up about her he attacked his brother. It didn’t feel good.
He ran a hand through his overgrown hair then released a breath. “Sorry—”
Blaze shrugged. “It’s forgotten, brother.”
It’s forgotten. Easy as that. His brothers always had his back, even when he didn’t deserve it.