Rough & Tumble (The Haven Brotherhood)

by Rhenna Morgan

  She sucked in a deep breath and lifted her chest in a slight, but distinct invitation for more.

  “That’s it.” He skimmed his lips along her jawline and cupped her breasts. The thin, silky lace against his palms promised whatever she had on came from the good lingerie drawer he’d found while searching her house, and not the boring white and taupe top-drawer selection. Her nipples rasped against his hands and he groaned, playing the hard peaks with his thumbs. “Want these in my mouth.”

  With a single whimper, she ground her ass against him and let her head loll to one side, exposing her neck as her hands covered his above her tank.

  He took what she offered, savoring the column with his tongue and teeth, and rolling her nipples between his fingers and thumbs. Her hips moved in a steady, needy rhythm so fucking erotic he could come just from watching.

  Splaying one hand low enough to slip beneath the waistband of her jeans, he toyed with the edge of her panties and nipped her earlobe. “Don’t expect anything from you. Don’t want anything you aren’t willing to give. But right now I want you naked, under me, and screaming the damned compound down.”

  She answered with a moan and a flex inward toward his hand.

  God damn it, he wanted her clit under his fingers. To slip and slide through her wet pussy until she begged him for more. Hell, if half his brothers and their dates weren’t so close, he’d finger her until she shouted out an orgasm to his uppity neighbors. “Look at me.”

  Her movements slowed and her eyelids drifted open as she peered over one shoulder.

  Raw, uninhibited need flashed bold and beautiful, her eyes glazed and pupils so dilated only a thin ring of gray surrounded them.

  “Not gonna screw up whatever’s burnin’ between us by giving you another reason to hightail it home. Turn all the way around so you can’t hide your eyes.”

  Not breaking his stare, she turned in his arms, sliding her hands beneath his jacket and around his neck.

  For weeks he’d tiptoed around this woman, biding his time like he’d never done with anyone else. He cupped the back of her head so she couldn’t look away and blatantly palmed her breast with the other.

  Her eyes started to shut, but Jace tightened his grip on her head, loosely fisting her hair the way he’d always wanted. “Eyes open.” He rolled his thumb over her taut nipple. “Your call. You want this?”

  As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he wished he could pull them back. If she said no, he wasn’t sure an AK-carrying platoon could pry his hands off her. The vulnerability and hunger radiating from her alone was enough to make him want to beat his chest and pulverize anyone else who dared to touch her.

  “I shouldn’t.”

  Fuck. He growled before he could catch it and pulled her tighter against him.

  Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Her pretty pink tongue peeked out and wetted her lower lip. Her voice shifted to something between sex kitten and confession. “But, yes. I want this.”

  Yes. Instinct took over, capturing her mouth and sealing her agreement before she could change her mind. Her lips were perfect. Soft and sweet, a trace of red wine on her tongue as it dueled with his. Her nails bit into the back of his neck, pulling him closer as though she needed what he gave her more than she needed air. Perfect. As wild and passionate as he’d sensed she’d be, mindless of where they were and the threat of an audience.

  He pried his lips away, rested his forehead on hers, and sucked in a steadying breath. “You feel that?”

  She bobbed her head, eyes dazed and lips swollen as her breath huffed against his face.

  “Good. Remember it because as soon as I get you someplace private, I’m gonna ramp that up a notch or two.” He snatched her hand and stormed toward the sliding doors, mindful of her shorter strides, but on a mission to get his mouth on the rest of her.

  Two steps into the room, Trevor’s pixie-blonde date perked up from the latest shooter PlayStation game, her focus darting back and forth between the fifty-five inch screen and Viv. “Hey, Viv! You ever play Call of Duty? Trev’s got the new one. It’s guys against girls.”

  Jace tightened his grip and kept walking. “She’s busy.”

  Axel looked up from his nose-to-nose conversation with his own date, assessed Viv and Jace with a single glance and grinned. “‘Bout damned time.” He winked at Viv even as he curled his hand around his woman’s neck, and out came his panty-dropping brogue. “Come find me if he lets ye down, lass. I’ve more than enough skill ta keep ye happy.”

  Laughter mingled with the game’s rapid-fire shots, but Jace kept going, drawing them deeper into the dark hallway toward the master suite at the end. Not until he opened the door and pulled her through the entrance did he dare let go of her hand.

  The second he released her, Viv’s steps slowed and her gaze shuttled across the oversize room. “Whose room is this?”

  He shut the door and locked it. “Mine.”

  If his cock hadn’t been hard enough to serve as a rock wall pillar, he’d have laughed at the expression on her face as she put it all together. “This is your house?”

  “One of the names on the deed, yeah. Told you I put this together for you. Not going to do it at a stranger’s house.” He paced toward her.

  She swallowed hard and took in the old-world elegance, dark woods and jewel-toned accents reminiscent of the law libraries he’d spent so much time at in college. Of course, this one had a King Kong—sized poster bed in the middle and was presently the center of her attention. “It doesn’t look like you.”

  He came up behind her and pulled the leather jacket off her shoulders, taking her flannel shirt along with it. “Maybe you don’t know as much about me as you think.” Tossing them both aside, he made quick work of his own jacket.

  She peeked over one shoulder, chin dipped so her gaze only hit him midchest. “I didn’t mean it as an insult.”

  “And I didn’t take it as one.” He gripped her hips, his palms burning for skin-to-skin contact, and pulled in a fresh lungful of her addictive scent. “Just pointing out how there’s usually more to people than we see on the surface.” Gripping the hem of her tank, he eased it up and over her breasts. “Kind of like you.”

  Before she could argue, he pulled her shirt the rest of the way off and spun her around. If a man were capable of swallowing his tongue, her breasts lifted and framed in soft pink lace would do it. Not one decent word or compliment leaped to his lips. Only urges. Dark, dirty, primal urges that made his cock pound for freedom.

  “There’s not as much to me as you think,” she said, but her face showed something else. Desperation, hunger, and so much longing it practically coiled around him. Fuck, but this woman needed touch. Touch and whole lot of release.

  He backed her up, wisely keeping his hands from her chest until he got her situated. “Told you downstairs you’ve got loads of layers. You may not see ’em, but I do. It’s going to be fun watching you learn them with me.”

  The back of her knees hit the foot of the bed and she sucked in a barely audible gasp.

  Jace took advantage, urging her to sit and shucking her boots before her mind could get too far ahead and calculate consequences.

  “I can do that,” she said.

  “Sure you can. But that might mean you’d start thinking, and my guess, that’s not in my best interest.” He tossed her last boot to the floor and peeled her socks off twice as fast. “You’ve got one job and one job only.”

  Her voice dropped to almost a whisper, a depth to it that reached between his legs and stroked his supremely frustrated dick. “What’s that?”

  Leaning in close, he ran his nose alongside hers and teased her lips with his. “You feel. No worries, no agenda, no thinking, just letting go.”

  Her breath fluttered against his face, warm and fruity from the wine. “That’s hard for me.”

  “Won’t
be tonight.” He straightened and tugged off his own boots. “Now scoot that sweet ass back on my bed and focus on me. Only me.”

  For a second, he wasn’t sure if she’d bolt, or oblige. If he hadn’t divested her of her shirt to start with, it could’ve been a crapshoot either way.

  The second she pushed toward the center of the bed, something in him shifted. Compulsion was too tame of a label. This was way more fundamental, primal even. A God damned animalistic urge that shoved every other priority beyond claiming her right out the door.

  He crawled toward her, caging her with hands at either side of her head and knees on either side of hers. “You still with me?”

  The same kind of look he’d expect on a first-time skydiver flashed across her face, but she lifted her hand and wrapped it around the back of his neck. “Yes.”

  “Thank God.” He slanted his mouth across hers, a beastly side to him he’d never realized existed rearing up and taking over. Every ounce of control he’d mustered since the day he’d met her evaporated. The only things that mattered were getting more of her taste, her touch, and those little whimpers she made when he hit just the right spot.

  Trailing kisses down her throat, he gave his hands free rein and cupped her full breasts. He scraped his thumbnail over one hard nipple and earned a low throaty groan from Viv. “You want my mouth instead, sugar?” he said against the slope of her breast, licking and sucking the soft, creamy skin as he moved closer to the lace.

  She answered with a pretty arch of her back and fisted his hair at the back of his head. “Please.”

  He dragged one strap down and tugged the thin lace, raking it across her nipple until the taut, rosy peak came into view. His mouth watered, all thoughts of a slow, decadent seduction scattering with a need to get her naked and ready to take him deep.

  He licked around the sensitive bud, fanning his hot breath against the wet surface and teasing her delicate skin with his beard.

  “Jace.” She coaxed him closer, one hand slipping beneath his shirt and digging into his back.

  He sucked her deep, working the nipple as he rolled its mate between his finger and thumb.

  The whimper he’d wanted ripped up her throat and her hips bucked against his. He’d never get enough of that sound. Not even if he locked her up and devoted the rest of his life to it, but damned if he wasn’t willing to gorge on it now.

  Sliding one hand beneath her, he angled for the bra’s fastener.

  A sharp rap sounded at the door, and Jace froze.

  The demanding knock came again, three in rapid succession and definitely a man’s knock. Considering there were only five men in this world who’d dare interrupt him right now, it had to be one his brothers. He hoped for their sake the damned house was on fire.

  He guided the lace cup back into place and pressed a firm kiss to her lips. “Do. Not. Move.”

  Viv bit her lower lip and grinned, the flush spreading across her cheeks and chest giving her an innocent look that made him consider killing whoever was at the door whether the house was burning down around them or not.

  He stalked to the door and yanked it open. “What!”

  Trevor stood with one hand on his hip and the other fisting Viv’s purse. “The phone in this thing’s been goin’ off nonstop for the last fifteen minutes. Figured if they’re calling that many times, it’s important.”

  Jace snatched it from his outstretched hand and growled.

  “Yeah, I figured you’d be thrilled.” Trevor leaned around Jace enough to see past him. “Probably even more now, I’m thinking.”

  Behind him, Viv sat on the end of the bed and jammed her foot into one boot, her shirt and both socks already back on.

  Jace gripped the doorknob hard enough his knuckles cracked. “You done?”

  He had to give Trevor credit. He at least tried to cover his smile with a swipe of his chin as he walked off. “Looks like it.”

  Shutting the door none too gently, Jace stalked toward Viv. “Thought I told you not to move.”

  Viv laced her last boot and surged upright, hand outstretched. “It’s Callie. Let me have it.”

  “How the hell could you know that?”

  She snatched her purse and dug out her phone. “Because it’s Saturday night, and it’s after midnight. Everyone else I know thinks it’s rude to call after ten.” Despite her shaking hands, her thumbs navigated the screen in record time.

  Damn it, he’d been so close. Not just to sex, but in getting through to her. Really seeing the woman underneath that uptight armor she hid behind. He fisted his hair on the top of his head and paced the length of the room.

  “Callie, it’s Viv. Where are you?” She sat back on the edge of the bed, her knees wide and elbows anchored on them. The way her head hung heavy spoke of way too much weariness and frustration. “I can’t understand you. Who’s with you?” A pause. “Where’s that? Do you have an address?” Quiet. “Jesus, Callie, stay awake and focus. If you don’t have an address, turn on that friend finder app I installed for you. I’ll see if it works.”

  A fucking pick up call. He’d give Viv high marks for quick thinking with the app, but the fact that she’d had to plan for such a contingency said all too well how often this shit went down. At this rate, he’d be lucky if he could peel Viv’s stress-ridden body off the ceiling, let alone get her naked.

  With the phone away from her ear, she punched an app up on her screen, then zoomed and toggled like a pro. “Okay, I think I’ve got it. Near Love Field, right?”

  Oh, hell no. He crammed on his own boots and mentally categorized all the shit neighborhoods in that part of town. Even Beck wouldn’t head near that airport without backup or a loaded gun, and he was a mean son of a bitch.

  He stalked into his walk-in closet, opened the gun safe, and loaded up with a shoulder holster and his Glock while Viv pried what she could from her sister.

  “Well, do you know what the apartments are called?” Viv glared at the far wall, a pissed off expression he doubted she ever let her sister see. “Well, ask whoever lives there for a name. Or a number.” She stood and marched to her jacket, splayed across the chair. “Okay, well ask them and text it to me. I’ll be there as soon as I can. And whatever you do, stay awake.”

  Jace snatched his own jacket, intercepted her when she turned for the door, and got a good grip on her elbow. “We’ll take my truck.”

  “Just take me home. I’ll handle it.”

  “Not in that part of town you won’t.” He marched her toward the stairs, something between anger and outright terror she’d even consider going there alone rattling him in a way he hadn’t felt since he was nine and earned his first scar.

  “Jace—”

  He spun her to face him at the top of the landing. “You ever been there?”

  “Where?”

  “Where your sister is. You ever been there before?”

  “No.”

  “Right. So, let me paint a picture. Meth hotels. Assault. Burglaries. It’s a nasty cornucopia for the DPD. Your sister shouldn’t be there, and I’ll lock your ass up in my bedroom before I let you go alone. Now are we good?”

  She swallowed, a big, painful-looking gulp. “Yeah, we’re good.”

  He nodded and guided her down the stairs. Hell, yeah, he was going with her. If not just to keep her safe, then to choke the living shit out of her sister.

  Chapter 13

  Vivienne stared out Jace’s tinted passenger window, one hand fisted around the door handle of his truck, and the other tucked beneath her leg. The muscles in her torso were coiled so tight she wouldn’t have to do crunches for a month, but it was either that or fidget, and she didn’t want to give Jace any more reasons to scowl. She still couldn’t figure out if he was pissed because of Callie’s interruption, the part of town they were in, or a combination of both.

  God, what a
night. From boneless and close to spontaneous combustion, to rigid and ready to shatter in under thirty minutes. “You didn’t have to bring me.”

  “We’ve been through this. Look out the window.”

  She couldn’t. The glimpse of deserted, run-down streets and dilapidated houses she’d caught pulling into their current neighborhood had been enough to fire a cold sweat and turn her fingers to ice. With the height on Jace’s truck, she got a bird’s-eye view of every horrid detail.

  Jace plucked her phone from the center console, checked the screen she’d set to constant display, and made a sharp left turn. “How often do you get these calls?”

  Too often. Enough she couldn’t remember her last uninterrupted weekend, though this had to be the worst. “Callie’s a bit of a free spirit.”

  “This isn’t a free spirit, this is stupid.”

  Viv bit her lip, all the denial she’d clung to in recent months flattening beneath Jace’s simple statement. God, she was tired of this. Of the responsibility and the ugliness. All she wanted was to be home. Or back at Jace’s house with nothing on her mind but pleasure. Not that he’d want much to do with her now. Talk about a mood killer.

  “This shit,” Jace said. “Her stupid stunts. This why you keep yourself so locked up?”

  “I don’t keep myself locked up.”

  Jace whipped into a drab gray apartment complex with boarded-up windows and a courtyard that looked like it had survived a nuclear attack. He slammed the gearshift into park, curled his hand around the back of her neck, and pulled her close so fast her breath left on a rush. His eyes were as dark as the night around them, the scar slashing across one eye almost sinister in the moonlight. “Sugar, you’ve got so much heat locked inside, you make Mount St. Helens look weak.” He dragged his thumb across her lower lip, and her tongue darted out for a taste on instinct. His lips twitched as though she’d just proven his point. “I wanna be there when it goes off.”

  Warmth flooded her face and her thighs clenched, the muscles at her core fluttering so powerfully she almost moaned. How did he do that? With their bodies separated by the console, he barely touched her, but with a few words and a look, he set her body on fire.