BRICK (Lords of Carnage MC)

by Daphne Loveling

  Regret, so deep and slicing it’s almost physically painful, hits me. I set out trying to protect this crazy girl. And now it turns out I may have done the exact opposite.

  “Gavin,” she begins, with a patience I can tell is forced. “Thank you for thinking of me. I appreciate it. But I can make my own choices, despite what you might think. I’m no shrinking violet.” Her face softens, and she lets out a low chuckle. “Did I ever tell you that Violet is my first name? I go by my middle name because my dad never liked it. ‘You’re not going to be a shrinking violet,’ he used to say to me.” She trains her eyes on me. “And I’m not. So don’t treat me like one.”

  “Is it treating you like a shrinking violet to tell you hanging around me might put you in danger?” I challenge.

  “No,” she says gently. “That’s treating me like an equal. And so is letting me make my own choices.” She meets my gaze. “Do you want me around? Ignoring any danger, and anything else going on? Do you want this?”

  Fuck. This girl. How did I get roped into a conversation about feelings?

  “Yeah,” I say gruffly. “I do.”

  “I do too.” She takes a deep breath and lets it out. “So maybe let’s just go from there. Okay?”

  I turn away for a second, and look out over the lake. When she says it like that, it sounds simple. Obvious, even. Shit. Is this how it happens? Is this how you get sucked down the rabbit hole, and end up laying your heart and your soul on the line for someone who could betray you in a heartbeat?

  Then I look back at Sydney, who’s still sitting there waiting. And I remember how she looked sitting at the bar, laughing with Sam and Jenna and Jewel. How natural she looked there. Like one of the old ladies.

  Like my old lady.

  Enough talk.

  27

  Sydney

  “Come here,” he commands. We’re back inside now, standing next to the large mattress that’s on the floor in the main living room.

  I do exactly as he says, of course. Without hesitation. As much as I push back on his caveman act, in the bedroom, he’s the boss. That much is clear.

  And I realize now I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Heat pools between my legs as he pulls me into his arms. But instead of immediately bringing his mouth down on mine, he lifts my chin with his finger until our eyes are locked on each other and we’re only inches apart.

  “I’m going to fuck you until you’re screaming my name, baby. You’re gonna do everything I say, and you’re gonna love every second of it. And then you’re going to come all over my cock.”

  “Yes,” I say breathlessly. I’m already wet, so wet I can feel my juices beginning to coat my upper thighs. There’s a look on his face that’s so full of naked lust it’s almost angry. And oh God, it’s turning me on. Every time we’ve had sex has been so good it’s hard to believe it’s even real. But there’s something about the animal way his eyes are devouring me now. A little shiver runs up my spine as I wonder what he’s going to do to me. How he’s going to use me.

  God, I want him to use every inch of me.

  “On your knees,” he growls. He yanks off his shirt and unbuttons his jeans, pushing them down until his hard, proud length springs free. I get on my knees on the mattress, my mouth exactly level with his cock. A bead of precum is already forming at the tip, and I’m actually craving his taste, craving the way his cock will feel as I try to take as much of him in as I can.

  Gavin fists a hand in my hair and guides my head toward him. I look up into his eyes, biting my lip in anticipation. His eyes are hooded, his face dark with stormy need.

  I’ve never seen him so hard, so large. His length is pulsing in front of me. I raise a hand and circle his shaft with my fingers, then lean forward slightly and run my tongue over his head. Above me, Gavin gasps and stops breathing for a moment. The skin is hot, and tight. I slide my lips over the tip of him, tasting his saltiness, and swirl my tongue around him again. His fist tightens slightly in my hair. I know what I’m doing to him, I love what I’m doing to him. More than anything right now, I want to make him come like this, want to make him lose control, and know that I did that, that I’m the one who makes him like this.

  I moan low in my throat as I take him in deeper. Slowly, I pull back, and then push forward again, until he’s hitting the back of my throat. “Fuck,” he rasps. “Sydney. Fuck. Feel what you do to me.” A thrill skates across my skin hearing his words. I begin to slowly bob, paying attention to every breath, every gasp, every pulse. Between my legs I’m throbbing with need, but he tastes so good that this is all I care about. Brick begins to thrust, ever so slightly, in time with my mouth. His taste grows saltier as he leaks more precum. I know he’s close. I’m hoping against hope he’ll let me…

  “Jesus,” he growls, pulling away from me suddenly. “That’s too goddamn good, Sydney. But I want more. So much more.”

  He steps back, his cock glistening in the fading light. Behind him, through the floor to ceiling windows, I see the storm clouds that were across the lake are growing closer. The sky is blackening behind him as he stands majestically above me, all hard muscles and tense, barely controlled lust.

  “Take off your clothes and stand in front of me.”

  My entire body thrumming, I do as he says, until I’m standing before him. There are windows open, and the temperature is already dropping with the upcoming storm. My skin cools and my nipples harden. Between my legs, the slick wetness chills in the air.

  Gavin is slowly stroking himself as his eyes rake across my naked body. “Fucking Christ, Sydney,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to sink myself inside you.”

  “Do it, Gavin,” I breathe, my voice sliding into a whine. “Please, I need it so much.”

  “Not yet, babe. Not yet.” He moves forward and lies down on the bed. “Straddle my face,” he orders me.

  My face flushes hot. I hesitate for a moment, but he’s not taking no for an answer.

  “Straddle me, Sydney. I want you to come on my tongue.”

  My throbbing pussy makes the decision for me. I kneel down and do as he says, shuddering as his hot breath teases the sensitive, quivering skin on my thighs.

  “Fuck my tongue, baby. Take your pleasure.”

  He grabs my hips and slides me toward him, until his tongue slides hot and wet against my clit. I cry out, bucking involuntarily because it’s already so good. My body takes over, and soon I’m nothing but need, thrusting slowly against his tongue, reaching up to pinch my own nipples as I feel like I might just lose my mind before this is over. Brick groans deeply, the vibrations teasing my pussy, and I know he’s stroking himself. I hear my voice, far away, as I say incoherent things, climbing higher and higher so fast it’s dizzying. Then Gavin grabs my hands in his to steady me, and I hang on tight as my body freezes, then convulses as my orgasm tears through me. I hear myself calling his name, over and over, as my whole body quakes. He continues to lap at me until finally, finally, I can’t take anymore and collapse to the side.

  There’s movement, and then he’s on top of me, his salty lips devouring mine.

  “You taste so fucking good, do you know that?” he growls against my skin. “Taste yourself, baby. I could lick you and eat you forever. Jesus, you’re delicious.”

  I’m exhausted, so spent I’m not sure I can even sit up, but there’s still something missing, an ache I need to have satisfied.

  “Please, Gavin, I want to feel you. I want you inside —.”

  “Look at me, baby.” I open my eyes to see him towering above me. The storm clouds are gathered behind his head. As he pulls my hips roughly toward him, a brilliant flash of lightning splits the sky, followed by a loud crack of thunder. Gavin moves between my thighs. He drags his cock against my sensitive clit, finding my entrance as I gasp and angle towards him.

  “You’re mine,” he growls. “Say it.”

  He thrusts roughly inside me. I cry out.

  “Yes,” I gasp. “I’m yours. Oh, God, yes.�
��

  He pulls out and thrusts again, even deeper. “Fuck!”

  This. This is what I need. “Harder,” I whisper. I want him to fill me. I want him to fuck me so hard I can feel it for days.

  His eyes lock on mine, so intense I should be scared. I’m not. I want this. I want all of it.

  He slams inside me. I cry out. He slams again. I can feel the climax begin to build, already. My body begins to shake. Every thrust takes me higher, I’m calling out to him, begging him for release. Then I feel it: my channel clenches around him, and a tsunami hits me from the inside out, waves of pleasure that make my entire body feel like it’s liquid. In the midst of it all, I feel Gavin expand inside me, then explode in a burst of heat as he shouts my name.

  I feel him wrap his arms around me with a gentleness that comes as a surprise after the intensity of our coupling. He pulls me against him as the storm begins, rain and wind battering against the windows. Drops come in through the screens and spatter the floor, but we just lie there, his massive body holding me, heating me with his warmth.

  He doesn’t speak. Neither do I. I can’t. The intensity of the last few minutes has left me without words.

  You’re mine. Say it.

  I’ve never thought of myself as wanting to belong to anyone. No one but myself.

  But right now, the only thing I want is to be his.

  28

  Brick

  Sydney falls into a deep, exhausted sleep, snoring softly in my arms. I lie there and listen to the wind and rain.

  When the storm ends, I go out onto the deck and watch the moon come out over the lake. The frogs are out, and their rhythmic song wafts toward me in the otherwise quiet night.

  What just happened between Sydney and me… I’m not sure how to handle it.

  I didn’t mean to claim her. I didn’t mean to demand that she tell me she’s mine.

  She did it, though. Without hesitation.

  My dick hardens at the memory. I’ve never wanted a woman more than I want Sydney. Even now, not even an hour after I came so hard inside her I fucking saw stars, my balls are already starting to ache at the thought of having her again. Usually when I fuck a woman, having her once is enough to take away the mystery and put her out of my mind. But with Sydney, it’s the exact opposite. Now that I know exactly how sweet she tastes… how wet for me she gets… the noises she makes just before she comes… the way her pussy clenches around me as she flies over the edge… I just want more. And more. I can’t imagine ever getting enough of her.

  I claimed her. She told me she’s mine.

  I want to fuck her until I know her body better than she knows it herself. I want her body to forget everything but my touch. Forget every other man who’s ever touched her.

  I want to take her to my bed every damn night. And wake up with her in it every morning. I want her to know she belongs to me. And I want everyone else to know it, too.

  My mind drifts back to being with her earlier tonight at the clubhouse. Seeing her there with Jenna and Sam. How natural it looked. How fucking proud I was to look over and see her there. Gunner and some of the other brothers were giving me shit about her, and asking all sorts of questions about who she was and how the fuck she’d managed to corral me. It didn’t really bother me, even though I pretended it did.

  Now, thinking back on it, though, I’m feeling more than just pride. I’m realizing how far out of hand this whole thing has gotten with Sydney, without me even realizing it. Hell, how did I get from just going into a shop for a damn cup of coffee, to this, so quickly? I didn’t even see it coming. All I did was go back to the Golden Cup a second time, and then before I knew it I was putting up security cameras for her, and fucking her in her back office, and now bringing her to a house I specifically bought so I could be alone. Taking her to my bed.

  Shit.

  Maybe taking her to the clubhouse tonight… maybe that was a mistake after all. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ve been too blind to see how far I’ve fallen for Sydney already. I don’t need this kind of complication in my life.

  Then why the fuck did you just claim her?

  It was stupid. Logically, it was fucking stupid.

  She doesn’t know what it means to claim her. She doesn’t know how serious it is for a man in an MC to say that to a woman.

  Hell, she might not even have meant it when she said she was mine. She might not even remember it happened tomorrow.

  But that’s irrelevant. I know I asked it. Fuck, I demanded it.

  And the heat of passion might have had something to do with it, but it’s still true.

  I want her. I fucking want her. I’m in love with her, I think.

  I glance toward the window, into the house. I can just make out Sydney’s sleeping form on the other side. My chest tightens as a wave of fierce protectiveness hits me, so strong it almost feels like a physical force.

  It’s never been like this with anyone. Not even close. I never even saw it coming.

  Maybe it’s just my dick doing my thinking for me. I try out the thought, but a snort of laughter rips out of me almost immediately. That’s not what it is, and I know it. My dick knows it can get pussy wherever and whenever it wants. As goddamn amazing as the sex is with Sydney, I know it’s more than that. A hell of a lot more. I’ve been drawn to her since the very beginning. Only I was a fucking idiot and never let myself see it until now. I didn’t go into that fucking coffee shop the second time because my new coffee maker was still in the box. Or the third time. Hell, the goddamn thing is still sitting in my kitchen right now, unopened, not thirty feet away from where Sydney is.

  I went because of her. Because from the moment I saw her, my brain just couldn’t let her go.

  Fuck. I don’t know what to do.

  There’s nothing to do, you asshole. You’re in love with her. It’s too late.

  When I brought Sydney to the clubhouse tonight, I watched her like a spy. Like I was pretending to be invisible. To see her — all of her — as though I wasn’t there.

  What I saw was a woman who looked happy. Happy to be there. Happy to be with me. A woman who might have run away from a tough past, but who trusted me to open up to about all of it.

  And fuck. I trust her, too, I realize. Shit, I do. As much as I’ve told myself in the past to never trust a woman. To never let myself get stupid about one. God help me, but I’ve gone against my one cardinal rule. I can’t fucking believe it, but there it is.

  I finally think I understand what Ghost and Hawk have with Jenna and Sam. What makes Ghost’s eyes change when he looks at Jenna. What makes Hawk smile at Sam like he never smiles at anyone else.

  Sydney’s not like Rob Sims’ cheating bitch of a widow. I can’t believe she could ever be like that. She’s not like my mom was with my dad.

  I don’t know if Sydney could ever love me. But I want to believe she can.

  And I want to believe it’s the kind of love I could be worthy of.

  29

  Sydney

  The next morning, the air is crisp and fresh, and after the rainstorm the night before, everything looks bright and new. I spend the whole next day at Gavin’s lake house. Since it’s Sunday, the Golden Cup is closed, so I have an entire, glorious day with nothing to do but laze in bed with him, make love, talk, and eat when we realize we’re absolutely starving. He convinces me to spend the next night there with him, too — though I don’t need very much convincing — and the following morning, he drives me back to my house in time for work.

  I’m deliciously sore from him, my entire body alive with the memory of his touch as I open the shop. It’s a typical Monday morning, except that this morning I’m feeling exceptionally lazy and can’t stop wishing that I was still lying in bed with Gavin instead of here serving customers and making espresso drinks.

  Things between the two of us feel… different somehow, after this weekend. I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but Gavin is more tender with me. More open, too. He told me stories
about him and Gunner in the Marines, stories that made me laugh so hard I was snorting. He told me some other things, too, like how he lived in a home with alcoholic parents and an abusive father. How when he was eleven, his father shot and wounded a man, landing him in prison. That his mom was unfit to care for him and his sister Kessa, and so the state put them into foster care. How he decided early on that the only one that could take care of him was himself. And how, to do that, he relied on the only thing he learned from his dad: how to fight.

  Gavin told me a little more about the problems the Lords of Carnage are facing, too. Not a lot. Only that it’s dangerous at the moment, and that he’ll do everything in his power to keep it all away from me. He tells me I’m safe, that he’ll never let anyone do anything to hurt me.

  And I don’t doubt that for one second. Not at all.

  What about him, though?

  Gavin’s told me that he’ll be busy with club business most of this week, and warned me that he might not be able to see me as much as he’d like until a few things get taken care of. Still, for some reason I keep half-expecting him to stop by the shop this morning on his way to the clubhouse or wherever. As the minutes tick by, then turn to hours, and he still doesn’t show, I start to get agitated. And then I get pissed at myself for being more disappointed than I have any right to be.

  I’m refilling milk and cream dispensers and berating myself for being such a needy idiot when the front door opens. Looking up expectantly, my pulse speeds to a flutter.

  It’s not Gavin. My heart drops in disappointment. But it is someone I recognize, though for a second I can’t place her.

  “Sydney!” she waves. Her voice, and her long, dark brown hair, finally snap into place who it is.