Chapter Fifteen

Brooks

"Did you just… sniff me?" I grumbled at Sully who sidled up beside me as I came into the clubhouse, leaning in, and taking a deep breath.

"That's an interesting perfume you're wearing. Vanilla and roses, if I'm not mistaken," he said, that playboy smile tugging at his lips. "Where have I smelled that before…" he wondered, pursing his lips and tapping his chin.

"Sully," I said, his name a warning.

"It's very unique, don't you think? Not a lot of women walk around smelling like rosy ice cream. You know, I think I smelled that all over me when I gave a certain lady a piggyback—"

"Stop," I snapped, but there wasn't much of a bite to it.

"I'm happy for you, man," he said, slapping me hard enough on the back to make me lean forward a bit. Luckily, I had sure enough footing not to fucking stumble forward. "She was shooting you moon eyes that night by the pool. Green lights all around. But you kept slamming on the brakes anyway."

"I told you why," I reminded him.

"Seems like you two sorted that out, though," he said, grabbing a beer, and passing it to me. "To the end of your years-long celibacy," he toasted.

"For fuck's sake. It hasn't been that long."

But he was already walking away. Likely to declare to all the others that I'd finally gotten laid.

The thing was, I wasn't even mad about it.

Because as much as my mind was still conflicted as fuck about the whole situation, my heart and body didn't have any sort of reservations.

It made no goddamn sense, but it almost felt like I'd been waiting to be with her like that my whole damn life.

Even though I could say with a lot of certainty that I'd never had thoughts and feelings about her like that before.

Maybe that was just how it felt when a fuck wasn't just about a fuck, when it was about feelings and souls and all that sticky shit I'd been avoiding for so long.

All I knew was I fell into bed without showering, liking the scent of her all over me. And I didn't drift off like I usually would. I lay there, staring into the darkness, replaying the whole evening.

The conversation.

The tension.

The feel of her soft skin.

The taste of her.

The sound of her sighs, her whimpers, her moans, her demands.

The way her lips wrapped around my cock, how she'd ridden me, how her pupils had blown wide when I'd talked to her. Like she was high on me.

Fuck, I knew that feeling too well.

And I slept restlessly, eager for the next fix.

I woke up unrested, but ready to go, taking a shower, making sure I had some more condoms in my wallet, then driving toward her neighborhood, having to park by her apartment, then walk several blocks back to pick up coffee for us.

By the time I knocked, it was only fifteen to ten, but I could hear her feet rushing down the steps anyway, then the slide of the locks.

She yanked open the door to reveal her in nothing but a lilac silk robe that was doing nothing to hide the curves of her perfect body.

"Did I wake you?" I asked.

"Nope," she said, giving me a sweet smile. "I just got out of the shower," she explained, waving down at herself.

Just out of the shower, but still her signature scent was clinging to her.

Body wash? Lotion?

All I knew was it clung to every inch of her skin. And this fresh, fuck, it was overwhelming in the best way.

"Brought coffee, as promised," I said, holding up the cups, and she reached for the one that was stretched toward her like a lifeline, pulling it up to her face, and taking a deep breath.

I'm not proud to admit that the little moan she let out went right to my dick.

And her turning her back on me and making her way up the stairs, that perfect round ass moving just under the silky material of her robe, wasn't helping at all either.

"If you hoped we'd be on the road at ten on the dot, you made a date with the wrong woman," she told me with a smile over her shoulder. "I have at least ten minutes of makeup and twenty of hemming and hawing an outfit ahead of me."

"I don't mind waiting on you," I told her. I would happily spend the rest of my life waiting on her. "But I gotta admit I like this look."

"You want me to wear my silk robe to the bank?" she asked, lips twitching. "Commando underneath?" she added, knowing damn well what she was doing. "The scandal," she added.

"I meant the fresh face," I told her. "But I like the robe too," I added, letting my gaze linger on where the air conditioning had her nipples pressing out against the material.

"Yeah?" she asked, head tipped to the side, catching me staring at her tits.

"Yeah," I agreed.

"Hmm," she said, starting to walk toward the closet room of hers. Walking me like a goddamn dog, because I was helpless but to follow her.

I didn't know what I'd been anticipating, but she actually had it set up almost like a store.

There was a massive framed mirror leaned against one wall with two long garment racks lined up to each side, clothes both hung neatly and hastily tossed over the top or in a pile on a chair shoved in a corner.

"Have a seat," she invited, waving toward the wall across from the clothes and mirror, where a gray convertible sofa was near the wall, the back down so it was in the bed position. "Clay refused to sleep on the couch on the rare occasion that he crashed here," she explained, taking another greedy sip of her coffee as she browsed through her racks of clothing.

"Shorts this time," I demanded, getting a knowing smirk shot at me over her shoulder.

"Really?" she asked. "I always really appreciated the… easy access of dresses," she teased.

My cock, already interested in just the smell and look of her, stiffened to half-mast at her suggestion.

"We're taking the bike," I reminded her.

"You have a problem with my bare thighs against you?" she asked, teasing me shamelessly.

"Got a problem with you on the front of my bike, legs spread in a skirt, and anyone else getting to see shit I want to keep for myself."

"Like maybe these?" she asked, going for a breezy voice as she flashed a pair of lacy panties at me, but there was no mistaking the way her eyes went heated at my possessiveness.

"These don't have a matching bra," she mused, pursing her lips. "But in this kind of heat, who wants to wear a bra anyway?" she asked. "Did you just growl at me?" she asked, lips twitching.

I hadn't been aware of doing it.

But I was sure I had.

I damn sure felt fucking growly.

She took one more long sip of her coffee before setting it down, then walking slowly toward me, her hips sashaying, making the robe slit up her thigh dangerously high.

"How about I try on a few outfits?" she asked as she reached for the knot in her sash. "And you tell me which one you like the best?" she finished as the knot released, and the robe parted down the center, showing the slightest curve of her breasts, her belly, and the triangle of her pussy.

When I didn't move, finding myself too fucking overwhelmed with need to do anything, she shrugged the fucking thing off of her shoulders, letting the material pool near both our feet.

Then, with a knowing smile, she turned, and I got the view of her perfect ass as she walked away from me.

I wasn't frozen anymore then.

I was on my feet before I even knew my intentions, wrapping one arm around her belly, anchoring her to me, as the other slipped right between her thighs.

She was already wet for me.

Fuck.

"What's this?" I asked, stroking my fingers up her slick pussy. "Did I not give your pussy everything it needed last night?" I asked as her head fell back on my shoulder, that sweet little mewling sound escaping her as my fingers teased around the hood of her clit without giving her what I knew she really wanted.

"I just want more," she told me.

"Yeah?" I asked. "What do you want?" I asked. "My tongue on you?" I asked as my thumb glided across her clit. "My fingers in you?" I went on, thrusting two into her deep, feeling the way her walls clenched around them, silently begged for more. "My cock here? Like this?" My fingers started to thrust. Hard and fast, loving the way her hips instinctively rocked against my palm, how her whimpers were already getting that desperate edge to them.

"Yes," she moaned, rocking her ass into my hard cock.

"Yes to what?" I asked, finger fucking her harder. "To all?" I asked. My answer was another whimper. "Greedy pussy," I murmured.

But I was lowering down behind her, pressing her legs wide, then slipping between, eating her pussy as I finger fucked her, finding her so wet that my hand was nearly dripping by the time she was crying out and her walls were clenching around my fingers.

She inched forward, coming down on her knees like her legs didn't want to hold her anymore.

Giving me a great fucking view while she recovered.

"Still need more?" I asked, as if I didn't see the slick proof of her desire on her thighs.

"Yes," she gasped.

"Crawl over to the mirror," I demanded as I got to my feet, fishing for my wallet, then pulling out a condom.

She didn't hesitate.

She just started to crawl until she was on all fours in front of the mirror, looking at herself.

I walked to the side so I could watch her watch herself for a moment before I moved in closer, reaching to free my cock, then fisting it, and stroking it, loving how her gaze slid right to it in the mirror, her pupils blown, her lips parted like in a silent moan.

"You want my cock?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, gaze sliding to mine in the mirror.

"You going to be able to take it as hard as I want to give it to you?" I asked, watching how she pressed her thighs together in response to my words.

Cali liked the dirty talk.

"Yes," she said. Then, "Please."

"Are you begging for my cock?" I asked, lowering down behind her, and quickly slipping on the protection.

"Yes."

A rumbling sound escaped me as I landed a hard slap to her ass, loving the rebound from the impact. Almost as much as I loved how she whimpered and arched back toward me, like she wanted more.

I had to give her what she wanted, didn't I?

I evened it up on her other cheek before pressing my cock against her dripping pussy, getting myself all slicked up as I rocked against her cleft, my head rubbing her clit in the process.

"You think you're ready for me?" I asked, shoving my fingers back in, getting a ragged groan out of her as I spread her with them.

"Yes," she cried, dropping her front lower, and arching her ass up toward me more.

"Feel ready to me," I agreed, pulling out my fingers, then slamming my cock inside of her to the base, feeling her tight welcome, and the way her moan was almost pained as she adjusted to me.

I didn't pause then.

We were both too far gone.

I gave it to her as hard and fast as I told her I would, using her hips to ram her back against me as I surged inside her. Occasionally landing slaps to her ass that had her gasping and groaning as I drove her closer and closer to that cliff.

Then sent her soaring over.

Her pussy was a vice grip on my cock as she came.

I wanted to take my time with her.

Make her come on my dick ten times over.

But we had things to do.

So I gave into the ache in my balls to surge deep, to claim every inch of her, then come when settled all the way in.

So hard I swear I saw fucking white.

I recovered first, pulling back, then carefully out, worrying she might be sore with how ruthlessly I'd fucked her, then moving out of the room to go deal with the condom.

When I came back, she was still folded forward on her forearms, ass high, taking deep breaths to try to bring calm back into her body.

Ego stoked at the sight of her ecstatic destruction, I went ahead and grabbed an outfit off of her racks, then draped it over the mirror.

Turning, I found her up on her knees, still shamelessly bare to me, her eyes heated still. But it was more than that. There was something in the depths that had my chest feel like something had suddenly cracked it open. And I swear to fuck, I could feel her slipping inside.

"Don't look so smug," she said, scrunching her face up at me.

"Hard not to be when you're looking like that," I said, shrugging, and offering my hand to help her back onto her feet.

"You owe me lunch now after the bank," she told me, accepting the clothes I picked out for her. "I wasn't hungry before. I'm starving now," she said, turning and walking, bare-ass naked, to the bathroom, and closing the door.

Alone, I grabbed my coffee and went back into the living room, dropping down on the couch, feeling better than I had in fucking ages. Years. Maybe ever.

In the bathroom, Cali's phone started blasting some aughts pop-rap hits, and I smiled as she sang along as she, I imagined, did her makeup.

She emerged maybe ten minutes later wearing the black jean shorts I'd picked out and some sort of strappy aqua-colored tank top that had one of those shelf bras that kept her nipples a secret, but the back made it clear she did not have a bra on, all open and exposed.

I probably should have picked something with more fabric if I was actually going to let her try to be the one steering the bike. But I figured I could always do that lesson somewhere grassy and eliminate the chance of road burn as a whole.

I wasn't the kind of man who wanted a woman he was with to be in a fucking burlap sack. I was okay with others seeing what was mine.

Mine?

Some part of me still wanted to object to that.

But the larger part of me screamed that there was nothing more right than this woman belonging to me, always being at my side.

"Ready?" she asked after going into the dressing room to slip into a pair of low canvas sneakers.

"Yeah. Do you have the key? And you will probably need the documents in the folder, your ID, and…"

"And?" she prompted.

My gut tightened. "The death certificate."

"Oh," she said, face tight. "Right. I have… copies. When Mom died, we didn't get enough copies. It was a, you know, problem," she said. "So I asked for twenty," she said, mood sinking by the second as she dug in a cabinet to produce said copies. "That's the max you can get for free," she told me as she gathered all the documents she needed. "Just need to get a bigger purse," she said, waving her wristlet at me before disappearing into the dressing room again.

She came back with a crossbody bag that was on the bigger side. "I don't know what might be in there," she explained as she put the documents in. "And we won't have anywhere to put things on the bike."

"Smart thinking," I said, reaching out to give her hip a squeeze, sensing how this was starting to weigh on her.

"Now I'm ready."

With that, we headed out.

Cali plastered herself to me on the bike, and with each passing mile, I could feel the tension leaving her body. Only to have it return as we walked into the bank.

I had to say it was a new side of Cali, standing there at her side as she talked to the bank employee, giving them documents, explaining the situation.

As much as some part of me had wanted, when I'd seen her again, to still think of her as Clay's baby sister, she was clearly all grown up.

I stood at her side as we were led into the vault where the employee pulled the box out of a wall of them, placing it on the table, and then politely excusing himself to let us explore the contents in privacy.

"You okay?" I asked, rubbing her lower back as she stared at it.

"I'm kind of afraid of what we might find in here."

"I'm right here," I reminded her. "We will handle whatever it is together."

To that, she nodded, sticking the key in the lock, and pulling open the lid.

"What, and I can't stress this enough, the fuck?" she asked.