Brek had to get out of her head.
She took Wayne’s cool hand and…nothing. Absolutely nothing. His thumb stroked the fleshy part between her thumb and pointer finger and, well, still nothing. The familiar cologne he wore was a comforting balm on an otherwise rough day, but that was it.
“This is my first time,” Velma said, the blood promptly draining from her face to pool in embarrassment within her chest. “I mean, here. My first time at one of these things.”
“I came last month.” They skirted the tables and Wayne helped her as she stepped up into her side of the booth. Aside from the lack of tingles at his touch, he could make an exceptional date.
“How did it go?” she asked before choking on a gulp of water. She pounded a fist to her chest and smiled.
“I’m back this month. That tells the story, I suppose.” He chuckled at himself. “So…”
“So.” She sipped a bit more, avoiding the ice cubes. “We should have wine. Let’s have wine. I think we should.”
Snatching the wine menu beside the salt and pepper, she flipped through the laminated pages. She glanced up when he remained silent.
His eyes caught the low light from the sconce on the wall beside their table. “All right.”
He hailed a waiter. Velma ordered the house white. He ordered a Coors, from a bottle. Like Brek always ordered. Ugh. Brek.
“I have to admit, I’m surprised you’re here tonight.” Wayne leaned against the back of the booth. His long arm sprawled along the edge.
“Me, too,” Velma said under her breath. She fiddled with the fake leather cover of her menu.
“I guess it’s my lucky day, then.” Wayne dropped his arm and poured his newly arrived beer into a frosted glass. “I’ve had the steak. It’s good. But probably just time for appetizers tonight before they move us along.”
Oh. Right.
She refused to look at the label of his bottle. As far as she was concerned, Coors was now the beer of Wayne. Not that other guy. The one who always drank straight from the bottle. No frosted glass for him because it probably broke biker code.
Velma toyed with the stem of her wineglass. Her phone buzzed in her purse. Her fingers itched to check and see if Brek was calling again. She already had several voice mails from him. She couldn’t bring herself to answer the phone or listen to his messages. That would make it real. Every time she picked up her phone, she got all dizzy and out of breath.
Wayne leaned forward, concern evident in his expression. The low hum of the restaurant cocooned them in time and space. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” She smiled her best smile and glugged a drink of fortified grape juice. “How’s work?”
“Busy day.” He relaxed against the bench once more, but the concern in his eyes remained.
“Caught some bad guys?” she asked over the throaty laughter from the woman in the booth behind her.
“Yeah. You could say that.” His elbows rested on the table.
She should make a column for that on her spreadsheet. Elbows on the table meant an automatic three-point deduction. As would ordering Coors in a bottle like Brek. Right now, Wayne was at a negative six. But he caught bad guys, so that added some points. She should add a column for that, too. “Did you get to put them in handcuffs?”
“As a matter of fact, I did.” He scanned his menu.
A deep breath didn’t help the discomfort of the moment. She and Wayne had always had an easy air between them. He was an amazing guy. Kind. Steady job. Polite. Her parents adored him.
But he wasn’t Brek. And that was the crux of it. If she married a guy like Wayne, she would be miserably comfortable for the rest of her life. A guy like Brek would never get married. Yet, he had managed to weasel his way into her life in the most comfortably obnoxious way.
But he didn’t want her. And Wayne was safety. Stability. Kindness. Boredom. They had that in common.
“I have tickets to see The King and I at the Buell next weekend,” Wayne said.
Oh. He definitely got extra bonus points for The King and I tickets. The Buell was hands down the best place to see Rodgers and Hammerstein.
“Interested?” Wayne asked before taking another drink of his beer and setting it carefully on the cardboard coaster with the logo of a craft beer company.
“Sure. No. Actually, could you give me a second?” Velma forced her hands to stop shaking. “I need to use the ladies’ room.”
“Something’s wrong.” Wayne’s forehead scrunched.
“Yep.” Velma slid out of the booth, snatched her purse, and hustled to the restroom before he could say anything more. She stood over the white porcelain sink and splashed cold water against the red splotches forming on her cheeks and neck. She needed a plan—a strategy to get out of the next twenty-five minutes with Wayne.
She stared at her reflection, waiting for inspiration to strike.
Nothing. Darn. Firming her resolve, she pushed her shoulders back, tucked her black clutch under her arm, and headed back into the lion’s den. With barely one foot around the corner to the main restaurant area, she walked smack into Brek.
An extremely unattractive “oomph” escaped her lips. Brek’s hands steadied her. She shoved them away.
“What do you think you’re doing?” She gritted her teeth so she didn’t say more.
“Finding you.” His intense gaze lanced her to her core.
That, right there, was why she’d chosen to avoid him. Even looking at him hurt.
He stepped to the side to let a couple of women move past. “What’re you doing?”
“Finding someone else, since you decided you’re not interested.” She huffed out a breath. “See that guy over there?” She pointed to Wayne. “His name is Wayne and he’s very interested in me.”
“Wayne?” His expression went tense.
“You’re off the hook.” Darn it, her voice trembled. Heat rose in her chest. Absolutely unacceptable. She would not fall apart. Not here, not now. Not in a hallway outside the ladies’ room when she was on a sort-of date with Wayne. Definitely not in front of Brek.
“If you’d pick up your damn phone, you’d know that’s not what I want.”
Oh no. He didn’t get to be pissed. He had no right to be angry. To cuss at her. He was the one who had gotten her all kinds of turned on and then left her with her panties around her ankles.
Mortifying.
She focused on the back of Wayne’s head across the room. Brek stepped in front of her. “Hear me out. Please. I’m sorry about the bike. I’m sorry I didn’t handle that well.” He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “I’d like to make it up to you.”
“You’d like to make it up to me?” she asked, incredulous.
This time she shoved past Brek, but he whispered from behind. “You’re on a date. With someone else, V.”
She spun around. “You told me to do something crazy. To try something new. So, I did, and it was scary. It was scary, Brek. And then it was humiliating.”
Great. Now she was whisper screaming. She jutted her chin in defiance, glaring with all she had.
“I made a mistake. I’m sorry.” Brek held his hands palms up.
“Is everything okay over here?” Pam asked, her eyes darting between Velma and her son.
Velma turned her head toward the restaurant and shoved her hair out of her face. The room had gone silent. Everyone stared at them.
Maybe she had screamed more than whispered?
Oh God.
A blush of itchy hives crept up Velma’s chest.
“I should leave.” Velma’s cheeks burned. Turned out, yes, this day could, in fact, get more embarrassing.
“Right. Let’s go home,” Brek agreed.
Everyone in the room seemed focused on them. No, she couldn’t look anymore. She wanted to crawl under the nearest table and hide. She wouldn’t, but she wanted to.
“Ma, thanks for the fun time. Velma’s comin’ home now,” Brek said calmly. “Would you mind letting
her date know?”
“Please tell Wayne I’ll call him,” Velma said as carefully as she could, being that her love life was flipped upside down.
“Nope. Don’t tell him that,” Brek corrected.
“Have you two finally decided to see each other?” Pam lifted a manicured brow. “Officially?”
“Negotiations are currently taking place,” Brek replied.
Velma shot Brek a look, daring him to say anything more.
He didn’t. He just shrugged at his mother.
She pressed her hands together and tapped her index fingers to her lips. “Well, then, I’ll find someone else for Wayne.”
Pam’s eyes sparkled. She patted Brek’s arm on her way to apparently have a chat with Wayne.
“We need to talk.” Velma grabbed Brek’s arm and pulled him outside to the sidewalk next to his bike. She stood as tall on her toes as she could. “Have you lost your mind?”
He closed the gap between them, his mouth on hers, kissing the stuffing right out of her. Everything she had built up in her head melted away as she kissed him back furiously.
He broke the seal of their kiss. “I’m sorry. About before.”
She swallowed down all the emotion from the day. “Why did you stop? In the garage? What did I do wrong?”
“This is all new territory for me—the whole caring thing. So that was me respecting you.” He was all hard muscle and kind eyes. “We both know what this is. I won’t leave you hanging again. Now’s the time to say no if you don’t want this.”
She remained silent and kissed him again.
Chapter Fifteen
Velma held on to Brek’s muscled abs as he parked the motorcycle at their apartment building. His spicy scent overpowered her senses. The whole ride, she’d rehearsed what she might say. She hadn’t said no, and this time he seemed intent to see this thing through. So, they would talk about boundaries and create a plan.
Velma’s breaths turned shallow while she fought with the thick black clasp on her chinstrap.
Brek climbed off and unhooked his helmet easily.
Her clasp wouldn’t release. She pressed and pulled harder. The strap bit further into her jaw as her breathing became erratic. “I can’t get this darn thin—”
“Here.” Brek’s warm grip surrounded hers. With barely a flick, he released the clasp and removed her helmet.
Shaking, and with no grace, she climbed off the bike. Velma ran her hand over her hair and glanced to the variety of pebbles scattered across the asphalt. She studied them like they held the solution to all her life’s problems.
Brek placed his hands along her jaw, one on each side, and tilted her head up. “You can change your mind. Anytime.”
His thumbs stroked her temples.
Her stomach did a little flip at the sensation. “No. I just…I’m not good at this stuff.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
What was he even saying? “Yeah?”
“V, you’re overthinking things. Catch your breath. I’m still me. We’re still us.” He settled both hands against her shoulders, and the fingertips of his right hand brushed little circles against the sensitive skin just below her jawline.
She nodded. “Let’s go home.”
Focused on the sidewalk, she hustled toward the building and inside the elevator.
He stepped into the elevator and pushed the button to their floor.
“Havin’ second thoughts about us?” he asked, his expression genuine.
“No.” She wasn’t.
“Then don’t run from this.” The words were practically a plea.
The silver doors slid open. He looped his arm around her waist, his long strides propelling both of them down the hall.
Brek shoved the door to their apartment open. She hurried to her bedroom. Brek kissed her as soon as they got there. All fire and tongue, melting her against him.
He pulled back and winked. “Don’t move.”
She blinked as he disappeared behind the door and immediately popped his head back in.
“Don’t freak out, either.”
She opened her mouth to respond when he turned on his heel and left once more.
This time, her chest heaved full-on breaths. Each inhale drew excitement, and a dash of fear. What had she gotten herself into?
She should go and see what the heck Brek was doing.
Gosh, the room had gotten uncomfortably hot. Carefully, she removed her sweater and dropped it into the wicker laundry bin.
Her gaze moved to her bathroom, her only escape. She just needed a minute to get herself together.
She pulled the pocket door closed and glanced to the garden tub. An impromptu shower seemed like a better idea. Unzipping the side of her dress, she stepped out of it and pulled open the plexiglass door to the walk-in shower.
Warm water did little to rinse away the turmoil raging inside her. Not confusion about Brek. She understood down to her marrow that he would never hurt her. No, they would figure out their limits and discuss rules, and then she would learn everything she could from him.
The spray of water pounded against her as she lifted her face to the stream, closing her eyes and bracing her hands on the dark-gray tiles of her shower.
The rattle of the shower door opening jolted her attention away from the showerhead. She covered her breasts with an arm and shook the droplets of water from her eyes.
Brek.
Not just Brek. Naked Brek. Sure, she had felt him up over his T-shirt when she rode on the back of his bike. And, yeah, the definition of his back was etched in the recesses of her mind from the times they kissed and she had held on tight. She’d seen him without a shirt countless times, but, totally bare, he was a Greek god with brilliant ink across his arms, chest, and down his right leg. Her gaze moved back to his arms. Arms that led to abs with muscles defined into a V leading to—she forced her eyes to meet his.
“You want me to leave?” A sly smile tilted at the corners of his lips.
At the husky purr of his words, she was pretty sure she almost had an orgasm right there. The warm water poured over her, circling the drain like her commitment to boundaries.
She pressed her palms to her eyes and shook her head. “No. Stay.”
“Then I’m coming in. You good with that?”
Finally, she dropped her hands and smiled a shaky smile. She nodded. His eyes were soft, his body rigid.
He prowled through the small space between them, turning her so his chest brushed against her back. The air shifted in the quickly steaming stall.
“This is how it’s gonna go,” he whispered into her ear, the length of his erection settling in the cleft of her bottom, pressing up toward the center of her spine. His wet hands slid along her elbows and over the sides of her breasts. “I’ll take lead, but you’ve gotta tell me when I do something you don’t like.”
She moaned when his fingertips stroked lightly over her nipples. At the moment, certainty took over that she would enjoy everything he chose to do to her body.
Fine, so she didn’t have loads of experience in this department. Handling things alone in her bedroom at night hardly counted. No, the things they were about to do, or rather were doing, were carnal, instinctive. She had never been confident with a man this way. But there were no mistakes here. Just Brek.
He ran his hand over the slope of her breasts, down her belly to the wisp of curls at the apex of her thighs. He slid a finger inside as his other arm braced her so she didn’t collapse into a puddle and slip off down the drain. “You with me?”
This was new. Sure, she had made herself come, but this…this was something totally foreign. Different. Exciting.
“What?” She hitched her leg slightly to give him better purchase, his fingertips venturing farther.
“I do something that doesn’t feel good, you talk to me.” He continued his beautiful assault on her senses. “I do something you like, you talk to me. I’ll retu
rn the favor. For example, right now, the water bouncing off your tits is fucking with my head. Makes me want to do this faster so I can play with ’em. But, see, that’s not the guy I am. I’ve got a problem because I really want to touch your tits, but my hands are busy.”
“That is a problem,” she said on a breath.
“Looks like you’re gonna have to help me out here. Touch your nipple.” He slid another finger against the one already between her legs.
She followed his command and ran a hand over her breasts, like she did when she was alone and doing this to herself. The friction elicited a moan from the depths of her.
The hardness of his erection twitched against her backside.
She cleared her throat. Her head lolled back against him. “I like that. A lot.”
“Which part?” His hand continued doing magnificent things to her.
“Mmm.” Words escaped her as his thumb rubbed against her sweet spot. The sensations of the water, her hands, his hands, were overwhelming.
“We should go to my bed.” She had no idea where the words had come from. She would gladly stay in the shower forever. They could just live there, the two of them, alone in the water.
He turned her to face him. “That’s what you want?”
She nodded. His mouth crushed down on hers. Finally, he let her go, and she turned off the water to follow him out. He immediately wrapped a bath towel across her shoulders and dried her off, before doing the same for himself.
Holding the towel in place, she followed him to the bedroom.
He’d pulled the blackout curtains closed and laid out all of her candles from the living room—even her emergency the-power’s-off candles from the hall closet. They flickered in the dim light.
Her breath caught. “You did this for me?”
“Thought you deserved special.” He held a hand out to her. This was it. Deep down, she understood he was asking her to trust him. He was Brek. Her Brek.
She released her grip on the towel and stepped across the invisible line to meet him in the center of her flannel sheets. Laying her back against the pillows, he knelt over her body, his hand stroking the length of his erection.
Just the Tip of the Iceberg: Mile High Matched Books 1-3 Page 15