A dream, had to be. No way was Thomas standing in front of her, saying what she thought, which so happened to be everything she ever wanted.
“W-what?”
He straightened and sighed heavily. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You don’t trust me. I’ve been looking out for you for more than seven years, and you don’t trust me.”
“I do trust…”
Eyes spitting fire, he hauled himself away then turned. He stayed that way for a moment then faced her, looking more calm. “You don’t. You trusted me, you’d believe what I just said, and you don’t. I know ’cause I can see your mind spinning, making excuses, forcing yourself not to believe everything I just said.”
“I-I…” She shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s just…” They’d been friends for months, just friends. It had been years, and they’d never been more. Why now? “We’re friends.”
“Yeah, and now, we’re gonna be more.”
She shook her head, again, not what she meant. “It doesn’t make sense. Why now?”
He clenched his jaw then through gritted teeth, he said, “Told you I was biding my time, waiting for you to trust me.”
“It’s been years. You’ve never—”
All she managed. The next instant, he snaked an arm around her back, dug his fingers into her hair, and slammed his lips against hers, leaving her breathless. He then parted his mouth and drove his tongue into her.
She didn’t fight.
She couldn’t.
His tongue so skillfully entwined with hers that she lost herself in his kiss, in him. She barely noticed when his hands cupped her bottom, when she wrapped her legs around his waist, when he set her on the counter.
His hands roamed her, legs, thighs, waist, hips. She shivered then hooked her arms around his neck, wanting, needing more. He complied, pressing her hips against his. The hardness of his shaft at her core, liquid pooled there. She moaned into his mouth. Her hand at his back then trailed up his neck to his hair, running her fingers through it.
He cupped her cheeks. With a groan, he tore himself away.
Her arms fell away just as she gasped for breath. Heart slamming hard against her ribs, her gaze met his hooded one.
Jaw set, muscles on his shoulders tense and bulging as if fighting an unknown force.
After a long moment, he pressed his forehead against hers. “You want me, Tiff, maybe even as bad as I want you. Don’t fight it. Don’t fight me. We’ll be great together. I know this ’cause we’re great together now. I’ll be good to you. I promise.”
Her heart pounded louder, over his words, but she heard them and continued to hear them replaying in her mind long after he said them. Still, she couldn’t believe it—what he said, what he wanted.
“Baby girl.” Eyes pleading, hands at her cheeks, his fingers dug into her.
Her gaze snapped back to his, and she realized he was waiting for a response of some sort. She didn’t know what it was, so she listened once more to the words replaying in her mind.
She still didn’t know what to think. She knew Thomas, all badass, lady’s man biker, the same Thomas she fell for from afar at the ripe age of fourteen, the man who saved her one too many times, the man she’d never been able to forget. She should protect herself, her heart.
She didn’t do this. She threw caution to the wind because he was all she ever wanted, because she’d never know if she didn’t try, and because that was the best kiss she ever had.
She nodded.
Totally worth it. He smiled at her like he’d never smiled at her before, a full, wide, unhindered grin. Then he pressed his lips against hers in a chaste kiss, that one just as amazing even if it didn’t last long.
He reached behind her, grabbed their coffees, and handed one to her.
She drank it, avoiding his stare.
Not a moment later, he lifted her chin with his finger forcing her gaze to meet his. “None of that.”
She quirked a brow. “None of what?”
He set his coffee on the counter, placed each hand at her sides, and leaned into her. “Whatever fucked shit you’re thinking, stop it. Nothing’s gonna get weird between us. It’s only gonna get better. I promise you.”
God, he knew her so well. She loved it. “Okay.”
He ran the back of his fingers down her cheek. “Gonna take my girl out tonight.”
His girl. He said it again. This time, it made sense. He wanted her for however long it lasted.
“Would that make my girl happy?”
She was already happy. Worried and concerned too, but still happy, happy in the way a woman was when the man of her dreams told her he felt the same, not that it’s what Thomas did. He never said anything about loving her. He simply said he wanted her and wanted to try. Didn’t matter, it felt just as great to hear, so she didn’t need him to take her out.
“I can cook…”
He shook his head. “Not tonight. Tonight, I’m taking my girl out, gonna show her off. Plus, I know you like getting dressed up. Wanna give that to you. You wear a dress for me?”
She’d wear a paper bag if it’s what he wanted. She didn’t say this. Nope. She just nodded.
He smiled then kissed her lips softly. It lasted longer than the last and yet not long enough, but still amazing.
“Gotta get some work done. Be back around six.” He turned and strode away.
She lost sight of him for a minute. When he appeared, he had his shirt, cut, and boots on. He then grabbed his wallet and keys from the dining room table. Before he walked out of her front door, he looked over his shoulder, giving her one last look. His sapphire gaze hungry and hooded, he grinned.
She sat on her counter, where he’d put her, a long while after, grinning like a fool, thinking she had the three best kisses of her life in just a few minutes. She could definitely get used to that.
****
Cuss didn’t want to leave her, didn’t want her alone with her thoughts. In regards to him, her mind often worked against her, but Tiffany needed time alone to digest everything he said.
The “talk” he’d thought about for months didn’t go as planned. The entire time, it felt like he’d been convincing her she should give them a chance. Not ideal, he shouldn’t have to convince her. She should’ve agreed, knowing she wanted him. She should’ve admitted it and given into it.
He had no illusions she felt for him even half of what he felt for her, but he hoped knowing him as well as she did, she wouldn’t have been on edge about them. She should’ve been more willing to give them a chance.
None of it mattered much now. She agreed to give them a try. Then again, it didn’t mean between now and the time he planned to pick her up for their date, she wouldn’t have a change of heart. Not much he could do, but he’d worry about it. And so, he was trying to get his mind off it as much as possible. The reason he was at the garage with his head buried under the hood of a ‘75 Camaro on a Saturday. The owner brought the beat up car in two weeks ago and was paying a pretty penny to have it fully restored. The problem, the engine was fucked. Namely, the owner wanting to keep everything original wanted to rebuild the engine instead of buy a new one. They had it rebuilt. Midweek, he started it. It began trembling then died. He checked the oil and spotted metal shavings. Big problem, it could be a slew of shit and would inevitably lengthen the time till the Camaro would be completed. He planned on getting it done yesterday, but because of club business the night before, he hadn’t been able to.
“Brother.”
He lifted his head slightly, turned it, and spotted Blaze, standing beside him. Thinking about Tiff, he hadn’t heard him come near.
“Why you working on this today? Thought you were gonna take care of shit.”
He straightened, making sure he didn’t slam his head on the hood of the car, and met Blaze’s stare. His brows furrowed.
“Looked like you were gonna finally tell your girl.”
Blaze didn’t miss a thing. Case in point, he pi
cked up on the fact Cuss got tired of waiting and made the decision to tell Tiff.
“I did.”
Blaze reached into his back pocket, pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and inhaled. He did this never losing hold of his gaze, and he did this waiting for him to elaborate.
“Told her I’m taking us to the next level.”
Blaze blew out a puff of smoke. “And she agreed?”
He nodded, yanked out the towel tucked in his back pocket, and wiped his grease-stained hands.
“Don’t tell me after years, you’re done with her ’cause she wants you, too.”
Done with her? He’d never be done with her. “Not the case. She’s mine. Always has been. Always will be. Just hate convincing her to be with me.”
Blaze lifted a brow then chuckled and took another puff of his cigarette. “Probably having a hard time believing after all this time, shit’s gonna change.”
Cuss’s jaw clenched. “Come again?”
“You been friends for years, just friends. She’s having a hard time believing you want more.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why the fuck have I been her friend all this time, protecting her and taking care of her?”
Blaze chuckled again.
Infuriating. Nothing about this was funny. They were talking about his girl, the girl he’d wanted for more than seven years. The girl after only months of being just friends, he couldn’t picture his life without.
“Yeah, Cuss. I get that. Our brothers get that. Hell, anyone with a dick gets that, but she ain’t a man. She doesn’t get that.”
His stomach rolled.
“Plus, you’re a biker with a rep, and your rep precedes you ’cause it’s a small town, ’cause your girl ain’t stupid or blind, ’cause she’s got friends, and women talk. She knows all it takes for you to get laid is one look, knows you never been even half serious about anyone.”
His muscles, his whole body tightened. He didn’t like to hear this shit, even though he didn’t fully grasp what Blaze was trying to tell him. Mouth tight, he threw the towel on the floor. “So?”
Blaze gave him a level stare. “People don’t change, Cuss.”
Heat creeping up his cheeks, the simmering anger he held at bay boiled and spilled over. He grabbed Blaze by the shirt and slammed him against the racks lining the back wall of the garage stacked with supplies, several toppling over and around them. “Haven’t had sex in months ’cause it’s no use. I could fuck twenty taps, and I’d still be craving release ’cause what I need is her.”
He drew Blaze away, shoved him harder against the rack, and released him. “Don’t tell me people don’t change.”
Blaze straightened his cut, took a puff of his cigarette, and exhaled. “Not saying you haven’t, saying people generally don’t. Means you gotta prove to her you have.”
Blaze made his point, and he got in his face about it. Shit. He was so messed up about her he attacked his brother. It didn’t feel good.
He ran a hand through his overgrown hair then released a breath. “Sorry—”
Blaze shrugged. “It’s forgotten, brother.”
It’s forgotten. Easy as that. His brothers always had his back, even when he didn’t deserve it.
Chapter Fourteen
Hands trembling, Tiffany reached into a cabinet and pulled out a wine glass. Drinking before a date was never wise. In fact, it was just plain stupid especially on a first date, but her nerves had gotten the best of her already, so she made an exception.
She did her best to assuage them by keeping busy. After Thomas left, she called the hospital to speak to Allie. Allie had been asleep, but Tiff spoke to Trig, who told her Allie was better and would be discharged later that day. He thanked her for calling and told her he’d tell Allie when she woke. Her worry for Allie subsiding, she cleaned her apartment, did two loads of laundry, and made herself lunch while wondering which dress to wear for her date. After barely eating, she strode into her room, rummaged through her closet, and decided she had nothing to wear. She did what any other woman would’ve—headed to the mall and spent two hours looking for the perfect dress. When she finally found it, she spent too much money on it. By the time she arrived home, nowhere near time for her date, she went for a long run, showered, washed her hair as well, and then spent too much time blow drying it and curling the ends. She spent even longer on her make-up. Since her hands shook, she had to redo her eyeliner three times. Finally, she dressed, wearing a tight, black, knee-length, open back dress.
After all that, Tiffany was still on edge. So she would have a drink no matter how unwise it was to drink before a date. Unless Thomas changed his mind about them, he’d knock on her door any moment, and by that time, she needed to be relaxed and calm or at least appear to be.
She poured a healthy glass of wine. After a few sips, the tension in her slowly began to dissolve. All it took for those nerves to resurface, a knock at her door. She jolted, almost dropping her wine glass.
Pulse pounding rapidly at the base of her neck, she took a deep breath, headed for her door, and parted it.
Thomas, wearing a black, long-sleeved shirt and jeans, stood at the other side. The shirt fit him perfectly, muscles lining his shoulders, arms, and chest visible. The jeans, a dark wash color, tight around his muscled thighs. Freshly shaved, smelling of man and musk, his midnight black hair combed back.
At the sight of him, she lost her breath. It happened often except it wasn’t him that did it this time. Well, it was, but it was also what he held in his hand—two dozen, long-stemmed, red roses.
Her lips parted.
First, biker Thomas dressed to the nines, looking preppy, the long shirt covering his tattoos. Second and most importantly, biker Thomas bought her flowers.
“Gonna let me in?”
Her gaze snapped away from the roses and met his sapphire eyes. She stepped back as he strode toward her and snaked an arm around her waist. Pressing her body tightly against his, he claimed her lips.
When he drew away just an inch, he smiled. “Missed me, baby girl?”
Holding her breath with her hands flat on his chest, she nodded. The God’s honest truth and after that soft, sweet kiss, she didn’t have it in her to lie.
He grinned then pressed his lips against her forehead. “Missed you, too, Tiff. Always miss you too much.”
Her heart clenched. She leaned her cheek against his chest and shut her eyes tightly relishing what he said, the way he said it, and not wanting the moment to end.
“Wanna put these in water before we go?”
She nodded, grabbed the flowers, and headed into her kitchen. Under the sink, she grabbed a vase, filled it with water, and settled the roses in them. She turned with vase in hand.
Thomas, his hip against the counter, his eyes cast downward on her ass. She cleared her throat. His gaze swung to hers. He smiled.
“Were you checking me out?”
His smile got bigger. “Not the first time.”
Lifting a brow teasingly, she pointed out, “The first time I caught you.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he smirked. “You caught me ’cause I wanted you to. We’re official means I don’t gotta hide it anymore.”
Not knowing what to say, she bit the side of her lip and looked away. She had a feeling it would happen a lot tonight. Things between them were changing, and she didn’t know how to act.
“That a new dress?”
She placed the vase in the middle of the counter and nodded.
He cocked his head to the side. “You bought it for me?”
She nodded then realized her mistake. A woman should never admit how hard she tried, especially on the first date.
“Wanted to make me fight off the masses, again?”
Her brows quirked. “W-what?”
“You, in that dress, gonna have to fight off the masses, Tiff.”
A warmth settled in her chest. She smiled.
His eyes glimmered. “And fight getting hard, a lot.”
> Her smile widened.
He leaned into her. “Didn’t have to buy a new dress but glad you did. You look beautiful, baby girl.”
Eyes soft and warm, he scanned her face. “Then again, you always look beautiful, so nothing’s changed.”
Her chest further warmed, that warmth spread through her.
He was too. Those eyes, that face. He knew what to say, too, not that he had need for it. The biker who could get a woman to spread her legs with one look. “You’ve always been handsome, Thomas, but you don’t need me to tell you. All it takes is one look.”
Second mistake of the night.
His jaw hardened, his brows drew together.
She offended him though what she said she meant as a compliment. Maybe he didn’t like she knew he had a reputation. She waited for his retort.
Instead after several moments, the hard lines of his face relaxed. He cupped her cheeks. “Means something when it comes from you.”
Thomas drove up to the valet of The Bridge, the fanciest and most expensive steakhouse within a hundred-mile radius. She knew this since she’d been there with her parents often, and once, with Mark. Dinner for two would cost more than three hundred dollars. Not Thomas’s scene, not the boy she knew long ago, not biker Thomas either.
She shifted in her seat. “Why are we here?”
He faced her. “First date with my girl gonna treat her to a nice dinner.”
“But…we can go somewhere else. We can…”
He clenched his jaw. Eyes hard, voice tight when he said, “I got money, Tiff. I ain’t a millionaire like your folks, but I live well. I can afford this place.”
Third mistake. Like the last, she hadn’t meant it as an insult. She simply wanted him to know she didn’t needed fancy dinners. She just needed him, anyway she could get him.
She cleared her throat. Her hand went to his, resting on the gear stick of his Mustang, and squeezed. “I know what my dad paid the club, Thomas. I know it’s how you make your money. I know if my dad paid that much, the rest do too, so I know you can afford this place. I just wanted you to know that just because my parents are rich doesn’t mean you need to spend your money on me. I’d be just as happy at home, making you lasagna, and watching that car show you like so much.”
Running Hot (Hell Ryders MC Book 2) Page 14
