Chapter Thirteen

Cali

I teased my lips up his neck, teeth grazing the lobe of his ear, then moving down his jaw toward his lips.

My pulse was fluttering everywhere.

My chest, my neck, my wrist, between my thighs.

Beneath me, Brooks's breath was coming out fast and shallow as his fingers flexed on my hips, the tips dangerously close to actually grabbing my ass.

My lips teased the corners of his as I finally sank down on his lap. His cock was already straining against the fly of his jeans, and I couldn't seem to hold myself back from writhing against him, his head rubbing deliciously against my swollen, sensitive clit.

A ragged moan escaped me and it dragged another of those rumbles that I loved so much out of Brooks as his hands finally shifted, sinking fully into my ass, and using it to grind me against him again.

My lips sealed over his then.

Hard and hungry.

Too many years of unmet need were coursing through me right then, making it impossible to take things slow, to savor the moment I'd been dreaming of for so long.

Brooks's lips let mine lead for a moment. Until my hips ground down on him again, making that rumbling sound become more of a growl. One of his hands shot up, grabbing the back of my neck hard, holding me still as he took over, his lips crushing mine, bruising into me.

And all I wanted was more.

He was always so carefully contained, so in control of himself. I loved the idea that I was able to strip that from him, that he was losing himself in me.

Impatient for more, his teeth bit down into my lower lip, the ferocity of it dragging a moan out of me. He used the opportunity for his tongue to slip inside and find mine, teasing and taunting, and filling my mind with memories of how well he knew how to use it.

My hips were restless then, rocking against him more urgently, but not quite getting what my body so badly needed.

More.

Everything.

Him.

His lips ripped from mine, leaving them sensitive and swollen, as he targeted lower, pressing against the column of my throat, and I arched my head backward, inviting more.

His hands drifted—down from my neck, up from my hip—and met at the hem of my shirt just as his lips were prevented from drifting lower by the collar of my shirt.

He drew the material up, his heated gaze on mine, until my arms went up, allowing him to remove my tee.

Then his eyes moved down, taking in my bare chest, his hands moving up almost instantly, covering my breasts, teasing his thumbs over the pebbled points of my nipples, working them until they were hard and straining.

Then and only then did he anchor an arm around my back and lean me backward as his head dipped.

A white-hot jolt of need coursed through me as he sucked my nipple into his mouth, pulsing his lips around it as the desire pooled in my core intensified, making a shiver rack my system and a throaty, desperate moan escape me.

Brooks hummed around my nipple for a second before his teeth grazed me, a hint of a pain I found myself craving enough to press further into his mouth.

This time, it wasn't a scrape, but a full-on bite, that had my legs losing their strength, dropping me fully against his lap, his hardness pressed against my cleft, making me cry out.

I needed the rest of our clothes off, for him to grab me, and surge inside of me. I felt like I couldn't draw in a breath until he was settled deep, until he was moving inside of me.

But Brooks wasn't done tormenting me yet.

He moved across my chest, giving that nipple the same frustrating teasing treatment while I wiggled against him, trying to get relief from the clawing need in my core.

Just when I thought he would never move past my chest, his hands were grabbing my hips, shoving me back hard, shocking me enough to move on instinct, pulling my legs from under me, and standing in front of him, settled between his spread thighs.

His hungry eyes did a slow sweep of me before his gaze found mine.

Then his hands were grabbing the waistbands of my pants and panties, dragging them down over my ass, hips, thighs, baring me completely. As he sat there fully dressed.

As strong as the urge was to reach out, to start stripping layers off of him as well, I found myself frozen under the intensity of his eyes as they moved over me again, this time, his fingers teasing up my thigh, over my hip, ribs, under my breasts, then back down again.

He grabbed my leg, yanking it up, placing my knee on the arm of the couch, spreading me.

He wasted no time lowering down, then tracing his tongue up my cleft with the kind of softness that had my thighs shaking before, finally, he was tracing slow circles around my clit.

I was already so damn close.

It only took seconds before I was pushed toward that edge.

But he seemed to sense it, moving away, tonguing me everywhere but where I needed it most.

I rocked restlessly, little whimpering sounds escaping me, too far gone to care how needy I sounded.

"That's it," he murmured, teasing his tongue ever so slightly inside of me. "Ride my face," he added, making a cramp of need seize me.

Suddenly, I was grabbing the back of his head, yanking him back up slightly, getting him where I needed him.

His tongue obligingly moved out, but didn't work me.

On a frustrated sound that was dangerously close to a snarl, I held him against me, and started to rock myself against his tongue.

Another of those rumbles moved through him at that, like he was loving it, like it was exactly what he wanted.

Which was good, because I was too close to stop as I kept rocking, harder and harder, my fingers digging into his skull as his own slipped back to grab my ass.

Just like that, I angled my movements, and his tongue flattened hard against my clit, the pressure sending the orgasm screaming through my system, making my legs go weak.

Brooks moved back, helping me fall down onto him as the delicious pulsation kept moving through me, dragging me into the pleasure again and again until, finally, it left, leaving me boneless against him, my head tucked into his neck, panting for breath.

"You like coming on my mouth, huh, baby?" he asked.

As sated as I was, those words made a pained little cry escape me in response.

Who would have thought that the very reserved Brooks would have such a dirty mouth?

Just the idea of what else he might have to whisper in my ear as he touched me, as he surged inside of me, had need blooming through me once again.

As if sensing it, his hand drifted up my inner thigh, finding the proof of my desire. "Still so wet for me," he murmured, using his fingers to gather it, then surge them inside of me without warning, making a gasping groan escape me as I shot back, watching him with wide eyes, finding his at half-mast with his unmet need.

"Been thinking of nothing but this perfect, tight little pussy all day," he told me, dragging another sound out of me, this more of a desperate mewling that had his eyes closing for a second before looking at me again, trying to find the loosening grip on his control. "You been thinking about me?" he asked, thrusting lazily. Not trying to get me there, just torturing me in the sweetest way possible. "I'm gonna need an answer, baby."

"Y…yes," I whimpered, rolling my hips to try to get the sensation I needed so badly.

"Mmm. All day?" he asked, flicking his fingers against my top wall, but briefly.

"Longer," I admitted.

"All week?" he asked, and his lips were on my neck again, making my belly feel liquid.

"Longer," I told him, too far gone to care what I was admitting.

"Since the club?" he asked, teeth nipping my earlobe.

When I didn't answer, his fingers did another glide over my G-spot, making me whimper and admit, "Longer."

"How long?" he asked, sitting back, watching me with those eyes I'd always loved. "Cali?" he asked, his fingers doing another stroke.

"Forever," I admitted, sealing my lips over his, not wanting to talk anymore, just wanting to feel.

Luckily, he was on board, kissing me back. Long and deep. As his fingers continued to work me, this time with his thumb at my clit to multiply the sensations.

"There you go," he murmured against my lips as my walls tightened around him, my climax dangerously close. "Come for me," he demanded, voice both somehow soft and rough at the same time as his fingers continued their perfect pace, pushing me to the edge, then sending me crashing over. "Fuck," he groaned as my walls pulsed around his fingers.

I fell into him after, panting, body tingling and foreign.

His fingers slid out of me, and my head was angled just right to see his hand lift, and slip his fingers in his mouth, tasting me again.

"You come so hard for me," he said, leaning over to press a kiss to my forehead.

My lips pressed into his throat, my tongue tracing over his frantic pulse.

Beneath me, his cock was still rock-hard.

Slowly, I slid down off of his lap, going on my knees before him, looking up to see his eyes at half-mast at seeing me there, ready to work him like he worked me.

I slid my hands up his thighs, teasing across his lap, then working his button and zipper free, then reaching inside to rub my palm over the head of his cock pressing against his boxers.

His breath hissed out of him as I rubbed across him again.

Reaching for the waistband, I yanked them down, freeing him.

"Is this for me?" I asked as his cock appeared, long, thick, and straining.

That rumbling noise was all I got in response, but it was all I needed as I fisted my hand around him, then slid to the base, holding him for me as I leaned down to trace my tongue around his head, licking up his desire before slipping my lips around him, and sucking him deep.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hips jerking up into my mouth as his hand slammed down on the back of my head. "That feels so fucking good, baby," he praised as I started to work him. "Show me how much you like my cock."

My sex clenched hard at his words as more desire pooled, as the need to feel him inside of me intensified.

"You want me to come down your throat?" he asked, fingers massaging the back of my neck. "Or do you need me inside of you?"

I whimpered around his cock as I moved back up, then let him slip from between my lips.

"Thought so," he said, watching me as I climbed back up, sealing my lips to his as I dropped my hips, feeling his velvety length rub against my cleft.

Brooks's body shifted slightly as he reached into his back pocket, producing his wallet, then fishing out a condom.

My lips went to his neck as I scooted back, giving him room to protect us before taking his lips again, then rocking against him.

"That's it," he said, fingers sinking into my ass again, helping me glide against him. "Get me nice and wet," he added, his hips rocking up against me.

"Brooks," I whimpered.

"You need my cock, baby?"

"Yes," I cried.

"Are you going to ride me?" he asked.

"Yes. Please…"

His chest vibrated at that as he reached between us, grabbing his cock, and holding it steady for me.

"Then come over here and take me into that tight, wet pussy."

I didn't need to be told twice.

I lifted up and positioned over him before starting to lower down, feeling his thick head start to press into me, making a surprised gasp escape me.

"Fuck, baby, you like that, huh?" he asked, making me whimper. "Take more then," he demanded.

I was all too happy to oblige, sliding down, feeling another thick inch spread me, claim me.

I'd waited so long for this.

And yet not a single fantasy did the feel of him justice.

"You can take me all," he encouraged when I hesitated.

On a sigh, I sank down, realizing he was right, feeling him settle impossibly deep, the most unexpected and perfect stretch.

"That's so fucking good," he said, voice a low timbre that shivered through me.

Before I could even adjust to him, his hips were rocking up into me, reminding me of the aching need to move.

I writhed slowly at first, getting used to the feel of him, then faster as the need grew, as the friction and fullness drove me up once again.

"You look so good riding me," he murmured, his hands on my ass guiding me to move faster, harder. "Make yourself come on my cock," he demanded as my moans grew louder and louder, filling the space. "That's it, squeeze me," he groaned as my walls tightened around him.

Then just like that, the waves were crashing through me, making me cry out.

Brooks thrust up into me through it, dragging it out until there was nothing left.

But he didn't come with me.

His arm anchored around my lower back as he suddenly threw his weight, rolling me under him on the couch.

"Not done with you," he told me, as if I couldn't feel how hard he still was inside of me.

His lips crushed to mine, though. Lazily and undemanding. Until my lips felt fuzzy. Until my heart felt full to bursting.

Until, inevitably, the need started to build yet again.

Seeming to sense the change, Brooks pulled back, moved away until he was on his knees, reaching for my knees, and spreading my thighs wide.

"Fuck," he hissed, his gaze sliding down my body to where we were connected. "Look how you're taking me," he demanded, voice a rough caress, making goosebumps prick on my overheated skin.

My gaze was helpless but to follow, to see what he was seeing.

And as soon as I was looking, he slid almost all the way out, then back in.

Somehow, seeing it while feeling it only intensified the sensation as he claimed me, inch by delicious inch.

But that was it for his self-control.

He was fucking me then.

Hard, fast, deep, taking every inch of me each time.

"You're taking me so good," he praised as he pressed my knees to my chest, changing the sensation, making his cock hit a new place that drove me up faster.

"Brooks, please," I whimpered, meeting his thrusts. "Please."

"Are you begging to come around my cock again?" he asked.

"Yes," I cried, feeling like my chest was too tight to take a deep breath anymore.

Brooks pressed his forearm over my knees, holding them against my chest as his other hand went between my thighs, working my clit as he continued to fuck me.

"That's it," he said as my walls clenched him. "Let me feel you squeeze my cock."

Then I was, the orgasm surging through me, a white-hot pleasure that overtook every inch of me.

"Fuck, yeah, just like that," he groaned, fucking me harder, faster, dragging it out, then slamming deep as he came with me.

I came back to myself, my eyes opening to see him with his head still thrown back, his chest heaving.

As if sensing my inspection, his head lowered, his lids opening, and his gaze pinning me.

"You okay?" he asked, and I sensed more of his misguided concerns about what he was and wasn't allowed to do to me were rearing their ugly heads again.

"Perfect," I said, pushing against his hold, so I could extend my leg. "Ow ow ow. Not okay. Not okay," I whimpered, grabbing at my calf.

"What's—"

"Leg cramp," I hissed, still clutching my leg.

Brooks pushed my hand away, grabbing the muscle between both hands, and massaging a bit roughly until, little by little, the cramp subsided.

"Better?" he asked, shooting me a little smirk.

"Yeah. I'm dehydrated," I admitted. "Sage and I had bottomless margs last night."

His eyes were amused as he slowly slid out of me, then moved away, yanking his waistbands up with one hand, while handing me a bottle of water with the other. "You drink. I'll be back," he said, then took off down the hallway.

This was the part where I was supposed to cover up. Or at the very least change positions.

But I stayed right where he left me, only scooting up enough to take a couple sips of my water.

Brooks came back a moment later, his long, easy strides suddenly faltering as his gaze landed on me just as he left me.

Naked.

Sated.

Happy.

God, happier than I could remember being in so, so long.

"Fuck, that's a good look," he said, gaze moving over me lazily.

"Here, sit," I said, pulling my legs to my chest to make a space for him.

For once, he didn't hesitate, dropping down on the cushion, then pulling my legs over his lap. Where his fingertips ran lazily up and down my legs and thighs.

As I, well, watched him.

Some part of me almost couldn't believe this moment was real, that I might just wake up at any second, and this would all slip away from me.

In his pocket, his phone vibrated.

He seemed to reach for it begrudgingly.

"Do you have to leave?" I asked, hoping the whine I felt in my heart didn't seep into my voice.

"Just Sully being a dick," Brooks said, shaking his head.

"What'd he say?" I asked, curious about his club dynamics.

"Just asking me where I am, what I'm doing, when I am going to be back to boss him around."

"You have more rank than they do, right?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"How?"

"Well, first, I was here before him. Second, I think Fallon—that's our president—wanted someone in charge who wasn't a legacy, so he wouldn't give anyone special treatment."

"Then, of course, there's your rigid self-control and eye for detail."

"Yeah, that too," he agreed, shooting me a smirk.

"Does it bother you that they all think you're a killjoy?"

"Not really. Someone has to make sure shit doesn't go off the rails. You get a bunch of bikers from unknown origins, throw in liquor, weed, and club girls, shit can go sideways fast. I don't mind being the one to keep them in line."

"Do you ever have fun?" I asked.

"Sometimes," he said, his fingers dancing scandalously high up my thigh as he shot me a wicked little smile. "You seem to have fun a lot."

"Just recently," I admitted.

"Why's that?" he asked, head tipped to the side, watching me in a way that said he wasn't going to let it slide.

Suddenly feeling a little too exposed, I grabbed a pillow and pulled it over my chest.

"I'm living on borrowed time."