Rough & Tumble (The Haven Brotherhood)

by Rhenna Morgan

  “What makes you think this room has anything to do with me?”

  “I don’t think it, I know it.” He pulled the toothpick out of his mouth and tucked it in his pocket. “The rest of the place is just a front. Part of the professional image you want everyone else to see, but this?” He scanned the room from one side to the other. “This is you.”

  She fidgeted with the doorknob, tucked her other hand in her back pocket, and studied her boots. “Are we ready to go?”

  The mattress let out a soft creak and Jace’s booted footsteps sounded on the bamboo floors a second later. He cupped the back of her neck and urged her face up to his. “I like this side of you.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but Jace steered her from the room and closed the door behind him. In the hallway, he retrieved the leather jacket he’d set aside on the way in and held it up. “You’ll need this.”

  “It’s not that cold today. I’m fine like this.”

  He opened the front door and motioned to the black and chrome Harley parked right outside her front stoop. “Not when you’re going forty to fifty on side streets. Then it feels a hell of a lot colder.”

  No wonder Ruger had darted to the front door the way he did. She padded to the bike and ran her hand along the leather seat. Memories of her father rattling off to her mom all the reasons why he needed this same bike all those years ago echoed in her head. “A CVO Softail Deluxe.”

  “I may have to rethink our plans.”

  Jace’s grumbled voice punched through her thoughts and she whipped her head up to face him. “What?”

  “You just nailed the model of Harley and stroked that seat the way a man wants a woman to touch his cock.” He strolled forward and held up the jacket again. “Made my dick hard as stone and seriously makes me rethink leaving the house. You still want to tell me that room upstairs isn’t you?”

  She slid her arms in the jacket and shrugged. “I only know it because my dad wanted one.”

  Jace scrutinized her, a whole lot of confusion and suspicion narrowing his gaze until she looked away. “Get what you need and lock up. Time to ride.”

  An Uzi aimed at her feet couldn’t have made her move any faster, his too-perceptive appraisal generating more adrenaline than her body knew what to do with. She snatched her purse from inside, made sure Ruger was situated, then locked the front door behind her.

  The bike’s engine fired up before she’d even pulled the key from the lock. She dropped her purse in the saddlebag he held open for her. “Where are the helmets?”

  Jace grinned that wicked smile and slid his aviators into place. “Never met a woman who needed wind in her hair more than you.” He pinched the tail of her braid that had fallen over her shoulder and wiggled it. “And for the record, the bike’s the only reason you’re leaving the house with this in. It’s comin’ out as soon as we’re parked.”

  “What if I don’t want it loose?”

  “Then I’ll make it my mission to persuade you.” He jerked his head to the back of the bike, flipped down a peg just above the top pipe, and tapped it. “Now hop on, sugar, and let’s get this day started.”

  Her insides spun a whole string of cartwheels, clearly on board with his brand of persuasion despite her logic’s damper. She could deal with that when the time came. Right now she had to figure out how to gracefully get herself situated on the altogether too small seat behind him.

  With a little more wobble than she would’ve liked, she stepped on the footrest and swung her leg over the tiny backrest. She’d barely made contact with the leather when Jace revved the engine and eased the bike forward. She clutched his shoulders on instinct, but figured out quick the seat back wouldn’t let her fall off the way she’d feared. By the time she’d unwound her death grip, they were out of the townhouse complex and rumbling through Turtle Creek. Vibrations scampered through her until she let out a delighted laugh.

  The minute the sound slipped free, Jace released one hand from the bike and rubbed her knee. There was something different about the touch. An expression of pride and comfort more than anything sexual. A silent encouragement to let go and be in the moment. And damn it if a long-silenced part of her didn’t perk up and pay attention.

  He regripped the handlebar, but the heat from his touch remained.

  She leaned a little closer to his torso to block the wind. He hadn’t been wrong about the temperature. At a standstill, the weather and brilliant sunshine were ideal, but however fast they were going now made it seem closer to fifty. Her cheeks stung in a pleasant, just-conquered-the-mountain sensation, and tiny tendrils from her escaped braid whipped her temples and cheeks.

  It was heaven. Liberating and joyful on one hand, and powerfully bold on the other. Scents overlapped and fought for supremacy—warmed asphalt, fresh-laid mulch from a nearby home, the algae from the park pond across the street, and more than one auto in need of a tune-up. A drive in the spring would be even better, the crisp edge of freshly cut grass and blooming trees overpowering every other scent.

  Jace leaned heavy to the left and steered them into an older neighborhood in a super swank part of town. Homes architected in everything from baroque to contemporary styles lined the aged, yet well-kept streets, and mature cedar elms towered over the road on either side. She’d never bothered to do much research on this part of town when she’d bought her home, but one look at the real estate around her and it was easy to place them between one to twenty million each.

  A tall wrought iron gate with beautiful swirls stood open with an ivory stucco wall shooting out on either side. Jace turned in and Viv’s jaw dropped. The circular patchwork tile drive led to a stunning villa. Reaching at least fifty feet to either side of a tall center section, the stucco walls matched the outer wall, and wrought iron accents lined the old-world windows. Adobe slate tiles topped it off for a perfect mix of Italian and southwest influence.

  Out of kilter and completely unexpected were the muscle cars lined along the outer drive. Four Harleys were backed in and parked in front of an open breezeway at the far side of the house, too.

  A tiny chuckle wound through Jace’s voice. “You can stop ogling and hop off, sugar.”

  Well, shoot. She probably did look like a Class-A gawker. She dismounted with a little more confidence and went back to soaking in all the lovely details while Jace backed his bike next to the others. Even in the early part of winter, the grass was spring green, and the scent of meat on a grill carried on the air. Laughter and the subtle bass of a rock tune drifted from the backyard.

  Jace ambled toward her, her forgotten purse gripped in one hand. He handed the tiny cross-body to her. “You like it?”

  “It’s fantastic.” She uncoiled the strap and anchored it on her shoulder. “Whose is it?”

  The cocky smile he’d sported wavered for the briefest moment. He glanced at the ground, pulled out another one of those toothpicks he seemed so fond of, and looked back up, grin in place. “Doesn’t matter whose name is on the deed. What matters is you stop wearing your shoulders for earrings and start enjoying your afternoon.” He urged her forward with a hand at the small of her back. “Come on, Alice, I’ll show you to the rabbit hole.”

  Chapter 10

  Now this was the good life. Springlike weather in January, severe clear skies, good friends and a tempting woman beside him. Jace had picked one of the oversize wicker chaises on purpose, pulling her down on his lap before she could protest, but she still sat ramrod straight on one edge, refusing to stretch out next to him.

  Formed in a loose circle of lawn furniture and tables dragged in from all around the pool, Axel, Trev and Zeke chattered with their dates. Viv kept the conversation moving gracefully, always asking thoughtful questions and making sure everyone got equal airtime. He’d barely registered a tenth of the topics, his attention too focused on the animated hand gestures she used when she talked and wishing
he could find a way to get her as relaxed when she was alone with him.

  Jace slipped his hands beneath her flannel shirt and tank, and teased the soft skin along the waistband of her jeans. Nothing dirty, just a tempting touch to get her attention.

  She straightened another inch and twisted. If it hadn’t been for the soft surprise in her eyes and her slightly parted lips, he’d have thought she didn’t like the contact.

  “C’mere.” He couched the request so it didn’t carry far, but she still glanced back at his brothers and the women between them to see if they’d clued in. “You’re not comfortable and today’s about relaxing. Slide back here and put your feet up.”

  The look on her face was priceless. Big eyes with so much want and fear behind them, a stranger would’ve tagged him the big bad wolf offering a chocolate to a starving girl.

  “Trust me,” he said, even lower. “Just for a little bit. Relax.”

  She fisted her hand on her thigh.

  He covered it with his free hand and soothed his thumb along her wrist. “Not gonna hurt you, sugar. You’re safe.”

  The women guffawed in the background about God only knew what, and Zeke’s date playfully slapped him on his shoulder.

  Viv’s stare never wavered from Jace. She unwound the leg she’d curled beneath the other and started to shift back.

  Jace took over, easily sliding her onto his lap with a grip on her hips that lit all kinds of other images in his head.

  Tucking her close, he kissed her temple and cupped the back of her neck. “Much better.”

  “You should have your boss call Viv then.” Axel’s voice rose from across the coffee table littered with everything from empty beer bottles and mixed drinks, to Viv’s Coke. “Jace’s dark-haired beauty’s got a good head for parties. Though we’ve got her tied up pretty tight for the next few months.”

  Axel and his bad timing. The term “tied up” with Viv pressed against him and the memory of those kink sites on her computer were a deadly combination for a man trying to take things slow with a skittish woman.

  The pretty little blonde pixie Trevor had brought as a date stirred some frozen concoction she’d worked up in the kitchen. “Trevor mentioned you have an event company. What’s it called?”

  “Amaryllis Events.”

  “That is so cool!” Zeke’s long-haired brunette looked suspiciously like the stripper who’d given his brother a lap dance over a month ago. She wiggled to the end of her chair. “What’s the biggest party you’ve done? Have you met anyone famous?”

  And that was it. Three innocent questions and a whole lot of subsequent back and forth, and Viv finally unwound beside him. Even when he took a chance and slipped his fingers back under her tank, she stayed relaxed, enjoying the simple conversation with a sideways glance and a soft smile in between polite answers.

  “I think it would be cool to manage a rock tour.” Axel had introduced his leggy blonde date as a new associate, but Jace had a feeling she was a colleague of the pre-negotiated, hardcore-sex-after-the-picnic variety. “Just imagine all the crazy shit you’d have to break up...when...” The enthusiasm on her face died alongside her words, her gaze locked just beyond Vivienne’s shoulder.

  Before Jace could so much as question what was wrong, Lily Montrose strutted into view, her curves more than adequately displayed in a body-hugging white dress that was way over the top for a picnic. Her gaze lingered longer than necessary on Viv curled up on his lap. “Nice party, Jace.”

  “Yeah?” Jace said. “How’d you catch wind of it?”

  “Ivan mentioned it. Thought I’d stop by and say hi.” She smoothed her fingers over Jace’s shoulder in a possessive glide. “Anyone need a drink?”

  The touch was one thing, but paired with the whole lady-of-the-manor routine, Jace’s temper ramped from nonexistent to borderline lethal. Not exactly a prime situation when he was trying to convince Little Miss he wasn’t the big bad wolf.

  He locked stares with Trevor and hoped like hell his brother got the message. “Nothing here that needs your attention.”

  Trev’s gaze slid to Viv curled up against Jace and grinned. “How about you track down Ivan and see if he needs any extra help tonight? We’ve got a live band booked for the back room, and word has it they can be a handful. Wouldn’t hurt to have an extra hand to keep ’em in line.”

  Every one of the girls averted their focus in one way or another, two fiddling with their drinks, and Axel’s blonde snuggling up for a kiss. Viv, on the other hand, had all of her attention focused on Lily’s hand on Jace’s shoulder. If Lily wanted to parade herself around like a Saran-wrapped snowman, that was her prerogative, but fucking with Viv’s head was something else altogether.

  “Think it’s in your best interest if you help Trev out and take that hand off my shoulder, Lily,” Jace said.

  “Sorry.” Thank God, her nails weren’t knives. The way they slid off him said her apology was mighty damned empty. She opened her mouth to say something else, zeroed in on Jace’s death glare, and closed it. With a wiggle of her fingers toward Trevor, she spun for the sliding glass doors and the living room beyond. “I’ll take care of the band, Trev.”

  “Appreciate it.”

  The second Lily was out of hearing distance, the tension in the tiny circle dissipated, and the girls kicked back in with their chatter. Well, all of them except Viv.

  She spread her hand across his sternum, fingers idly tracing the outline of the dog tags under his T-shirt. “You okay?”

  Christ, her touch was a benediction compared to Lily’s. And simpleton that he seemed to be around her, his mind took note of her tiny fingers sliding against him and superimposed the image on his cock. Fuck, he’d be jacking off every other hour at this rate.

  “I am now.” Cupping the back of her head, his fingers tangled in her braid, and his calculating thoughts kicked out a fresh idea. “I could be better though.”

  For the first time since he’d met her, she gifted him with some of the saucy playfulness she’d aimed at the rest of the crowd, and cocked her eyebrow at a perky, but arrogant slant. Those kiss-tastic lips of hers puckered up in a cute pout. “Really?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “And how would I do that?”

  He loosely gripped her braid and let it slide through his fingers to the tip. He tugged the nondescript brown band holding it in place.

  Viv pushed against his chest as though she meant to sit up, but Jace caught her with a hand at her shoulder. “You wanted to make it better.”

  “Getting you in a better mood and making me look like a wild woman are two different things.”

  “Sugar, you’re a wild woman with or without the braid. You just don’t let yourself out of the cage enough to enjoy her.” He tugged on the band again. One more pull and he’d be home free. “Indulge me. Been dying to get my hands in your hair since New Year’s Eve.”

  She shot him a disbelieving look.

  Say yes. For the love of God, say yes and let go.

  Her gaze drifted to his chest and she shrugged one shoulder.

  Close enough. He pulled the band free and tossed it toward the table beside them. Fuck if he cared if it got lost. Between him and his brothers, they could come up with half a dozen more in a snap, but he’d rather her not have an excuse to knot it back up.

  He worked his fingers through the sections, the slick and wavy texture a God damn thrill to touch. “Look at me, Viv.”

  She cocked her head a little, the tense press of her palm against his chest belying her careless facade. Slowly, her gaze drifted up to his. If she had any clue how sexy she was, or the impact she had on him, she sure as hell didn’t show it. If anything, those pale gray eyes of hers screamed insecurity paired with a dangerous powder keg of passion.

  He combed the heavy mass until it flowed loose, a dark chocolate that reached her shoulder bl
ades. “I was wrong.”

  “Huh?”

  His grin popped into place before he could catch it. Little Miss might not like leaving her hair down, but she sure shot to la-la land fast when someone played with it. He’d have to tuck that little nugget away for later. “Decided I’m still not feeling as good as I could be. Need a kiss to make it all better.”

  Viv tensed beneath his arm and glanced back at the rest of their crew.

  Not for a second did he doubt Axel, Trev and Zeke knew every detail going down, but not a one of them showed it. Instead, they did their part to make sure the women kept the conversation flowing and stayed a long damned way from engaging Viv. Never underestimate a high-caliber wingman, let alone a trio.

  He cupped her nape and urged her to face him. “Never mind them.”

  “It’s kind of rude.”

  “According to who?”

  “I don’t know. Emily Post? Proper etiquette? PDA Anonymous?”

  He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Got a little smart-ass in there with the wild chick.” He speared his fingers in her hair, cupping the back of her head. “Surely she’s up for breaking the rules just this once.”

  Her gaze dropped to his mouth and her hand on his chest fisted.

  A round of laughter fired behind them, but Viv stayed rock still, a few stubborn strands of her hair dancing on the light breeze.

  He opened his mouth, ready to throw a dare down, but she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. Warm, wet, and parted just enough they meshed with his in a perfect glide. Her tongue slicked across his lower lip and her breath mingled with his. Her fingertips tickled the beard along his jawline.

  Good God, if he died in the next five minutes he’d do it a happy man. He’d kissed her enough times he should’ve known what to expect, but something about this one rocked him. Vulnerable, innocent and hungry all rolled up into one.

  No, it was more than that. This was freedom, and damn, it tasted fantastic on her lips.

  She eased away. If he hadn’t seen so much uncertainty behind her glazed eyes, he’d have swung her over his shoulder, locked them in his bedroom, and not come out for three days. Maybe more.