But still.
“Shy, I don’t want you to get involved,” I told him.
“And Tabby”—his face dipped close—“you showed up at my door and, unlike other women, you get the life so it’s gonna come as no surprise to you when I say, I hear you, baby, but I’m still getting involved.”
There it was and it came fast.
I had to do the balancing act.
“Shy, seriously,” I said softly, pressing my fingers into his chest for emphasis, “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
“I do it right, Tab, you won’t feel anything at all, and mark me, honey, I’ll do it right.”
Fabulous.
I stared at him and it came to me.
Talk to Tyra.
I might have lived in the biker world all my life, but until I was sixteen and she disappeared, my mom was my biker-babe mentor and she was no good at it.
Tyra was the master.
I’d talk to her.
That was, I’d talk to Tyra about managing Shy after I talked to Tyra about how it was a good idea I was with Shy and then waited for her to get over the fact I was with Shy and believe in us (or pretend she did until she really believed in us), then I’d talk to Tyra about Shy rocking my employment world.
Hopefully, she’d get over the Shy-and-I-being-an-us thing fast, because I had a feeling from the look in his eyes, Shy wasn’t going to dawdle.
“You with me?” he asked, and I wasn’t.
Still, I said, “Kind of, but can I reserve the right to discuss this with you later, at a time when I haven’t just become part of an us with a hot biker guy and brother to my father and a bunch of men who are family to me?”
He grinned and muttered, “Yeah you can reserve that right.”
At least there was that.
Then his hand moved from the side of my head down to my chest and kept drifting further down when he continued, “Though, I reserve the right to repeat that I’m still gettin’ involved.”
Wonderful.
“Shy—”
“Talk over, Tabby, we got things to do.”
I blinked and asked, “We do?”
“We totally fuckin’ do,” he answered.
“What things?”
He didn’t answer.
He dropped his torso to mine just as his hand curved around my breast and his lips hit my lips.
Then we did the things we had to do which, to spell it out, was take a few trips to paradise.
Chapter Nine
Family Reunion
I heard the knock on the door and I slowly opened my eyes.
It was morning, I could see the sun shining into Shy’s apartment and I was in his bed.
More precisely, I was naked on him in his bed. Chest to chest, my body over his, my cheek to his shoulder, my hips off to the side, my leg crooked, knee resting against his thigh, his arm curled around my waist at an angle so his hand could cup my behind.
This position, surprisingly, felt supercomfortable and very nice, but I had no idea how he could sleep like that without being crushed or at the very least being able to breathe.
I also had no idea how I could sleep like that, seeing as I was naked and I could feel the sheet pulled up to just below my bottom, but mostly I had it all hanging out.
In my groggy, waking-up mind, memories of the day before hit me, and I had the feeling I knew how I could sleep like that and he could too.
I rarely slept naked, but that didn’t mean it didn’t happen. Sometimes, when Jason and I went out on the town and I came back tipsy, we’d have wild monkey sex, this would go on for a while, and then I’d pass out naked.
Normally, if having sex was the last thing we did before going to sleep, after we did the deed, he gave me the hug-and-roll, I slid out of bed, cleaned up, and pulled on panties and a nightie before I hit the sack for good.
This was all the experience I had.
Jason was number two in my not-so-long list of lovers. I gave it away to my high school boyfriend when I was seventeen. It wasn’t great. It didn’t suck. What sucked was, even though he was way into me and told me it was forever and I liked him enough to give him my virginity (which was to say, a lot), he told his friends he did me and that crap got back to me. This did not fill me with joy, and I dumped him. He was devastated, I didn’t feel all that great about the situation, but I wasn’t going to take that, the looks, the under-the-breath comments, the girls’ bitchiness, all of which he caused by doing something as stupid as bragging.
After him, I dated often enough but I was hung up on Shy, waiting for him to notice me, like guys seemed to notice me often so I didn’t get too involved and never found a guy I was willing to go there with. Then Shy broke my heart and I decided to concentrate on my studies, not guys.
While doing that, I met Jason.
Although the sex I had with Jason was always good because he went to great lengths, lengths I enjoyed, to make it that way, and it could get wild, we had fun, it was nothing like what Shy and I had last night.
I thought I’d had wild monkey sex.
I didn’t know the meaning of it until Shy taught it to me.
He had stamina. He had creativity. And he was so into me, it was unreal. He couldn’t get enough of me, wasn’t shy about me knowing it, and that worked for me since I felt the same for him.
We took only one break, to order a pizza. When it arrived, Shy walked to the bed and tossed the box on it. He moved to the kitchen, grabbed a couple of cold ones from the kitchen, handed one to me, then fell to his side across the foot of the bed, threw open the box and commenced eating.
I joined in, and when we were done, he threw the box on the floor (where, mind you, it still was), grabbed my ankles and hauled me down the bed to him.
I’d never eaten naked.
I’d never done a lot of the things I did with Shy yesterday.
And the best part was, it was natural, it felt right. I never felt funny or apprehensive or wondered if I was doing it right. It was all about him, his hands, mouth, cock, and body, what they made me feel and how much I could get of them, going for it, building it in him, giving it my all to get a low groan or a growl, feeling like I conquered the world when I earned one.
It was beautiful, amazing, all of it. And there was a lot of it.
So it was no wonder I passed out naked on top of Shy.
Another knock came. I felt Shy’s hand tense into the cheek of my bottom, and I was about to lift my head and look at him when his other arm wrapped around me and I stilled. This was because he was holding me gently, rolling me, moving me slowly and carefully, like he didn’t know I was awake and he was making a grave effort not to wake me.
Sweet.
Very sweet.
“I’m awake, darlin’,” I said softly right before he placed me on my back.
His head came up, my eyes hit his sleepy ones, and my heart tripped.
God, seriously, even sleepy-eyed, he was amazing.
Those sleepy eyes moved over my face as his hand came up, cupping the side of my head. His thumb slid along my hairline, his eyes came to mine and he gave me the best good morning ever.
“You,” he whispered, “in my bed.”
My lungs compressed but in a good way.
“Yeah,” I whispered back. “With you.”
His eyes went lazy, dropped to my mouth then his lips dropped there.
We touched tongues when another knock came at the door and this time it didn’t stop.
Shy’s head came up and he growled, “Fuckin’, fuck me.”
I grinned up at him. He scowled down at me then kissed the underside of my jaw before he rolled over me and off the bed.
I pulled the sheet up to my neck and rolled to my side, watching the show that was Shy tugging on a pair of jeans.
He looked out the peephole and I watched, captivated by what I saw at the same time bracing as I watched every inch of his body go still.
Then he moved quickly. Unlocking the door, he
threw it open and let out a man howl that shook the windows.
This shocked me so much, I sat up in bed. Holding the sheet to my front, I watched Shy lunge at whoever was outside. He then backed inside, his body now arched way back because he was carrying a grown man wearing fatigues with his stuffed-full Army drab duffel at a slant on his back.
Shy bounced the guy a few times as the guy slapped Shy’s bare back in a way it appeared he hadn’t noticed Shy’s back was bare. Then Shy dropped him on his feet, they jumped apart and looked at each other grinning hugely. They jumped back together and there was more man hugging and back pounds.
I took a wild mental stab and decided this was Landon Cage, Shy’s brother, home from deployment.
I was thrilled for Shy, and he was clearly thrilled to have his brother back.
What I was not was comfortable being naked in a bed in the same room as a family reunion.
“Fuck, good to see you man, shit, you surprised me,” I heard Shy say as I started sliding toward the edge of the bed, yanking the sheet with me.
“A fuckin’ peephole,” Landon replied, pulling away, they kept hands on shoulders and hands clasped between them as they looked at each other and Landon finished, “Was gonna get the drop on you finally. Kick your ass.”
“How many times I gotta prove that shit to you? It’s not gonna happen,” Shy returned.
I made it to the edge of the bed and saw none of the clothes, Shy or mine, were within reaching distance.
Crap.
I looked back at the brothers, noting vaguely they didn’t look a lot alike. Shy’s hair was two shades down from black. Landon’s hair was about three shades up from light brown and, obviously, cut in a military cut, not long and curling around his neck like Shy’s. Shy had amazing, green eyes. Landon’s eyes were a warm, dark brown. They were the same height, but whereas Shy’s frame was tall with lean, defined muscle, it looked like Landon had maybe thirty pounds on him, all of it muscle, but I couldn’t tell for certain under those fatigues.
I took this all in as I considered my dilemma and wondered if I could make an escape to the bathroom with an armful of clothes without being noticed.
Both men’s eyes came to me.
Wonderful.
Well, escape was out.
Shy smiled big, sauntered my way and, in typical Shy fashion, didn’t hesitate one moment in putting me where he wanted me to be.
In this instance, he hauled me out of bed, tucked my front to his side and shuffled me his brother’s way, saying, “Fuckin’ thrilled I get to do this. Tab, meet my brother, Landon. And Lan, meet my girl, Tabitha Allen.”
Lan was smiling down at me. I was smiling tentatively up at him at the same time frantically tucking the sheet around me.
The problem was, the instant Shy said my name, something passed through Lan’s eyes and the clearly genuine smile he had on his mouth turned straight-out fake.
Uh-oh.
Shy had been talking about me, and it didn’t appear that whatever he’d said was good.
Putting a courteous face on, he stuck his hand out and muttered, “Cool to meet you, Tabitha.”
“Tab, Tabby, uh… whatever you wanna call me. People call me both,” I stammered, taking his hand and concentrating on giving it a warm squeeze.
He gave me a squeeze back and quickly let me go.
“This is good. Now I get to take my girl and my brother out for coffee,” Shy announced and my body froze solid as his eyes hit Lan. “Tex will wanna see you’re back, brother.”
“Is he still a whackjob?” Lan asked.
“Tex is Tex, not sure there’s another way he can be,” Shy answered, still grinning, still badass biker elated and relieved his brother was home in one piece.
“Uh… how about I go home and give you guys some one-on-one reunion time,” I suggested, and Lan’s eyes cut to me, which was what I saw.
What I felt was Shy’s eyes come to me. I felt them so much, I turned my head to look up at him.
Uh-oh again.
“You’re comin’ with us,” he declared, his eyes intense, his demeanor stating his declaration brooked no argument.
Unfortunately, I needed to argue. I needed to give Shy time with his brother because Shy should have time with his brother. Selfishly, I also needed to give Shy time with his brother to explain how things were now, not however they were when he last spoke to him about me.
“Shy, darlin’, you haven’t seen Lan in a year. Maybe you two can have coffee, I’ll go out, get some stuff, and make you guys lunch,” I suggested.
Shy’s eyes cleared and his lips twitched. “He just survived Afghanistan, sugar, don’t think he needs to come home and have you kill him with your cooking.”
I forgot Lan’s reaction to me and the small fact I was wearing nothing but a sheet and only could think of Shy embarrassing me by announcing to his brother, of all people, the only real family he had outside of the Chaos family we shared, that I couldn’t cook.
“My lunch won’t kill him,” I snapped.
“Baby, I don’t know if garlic poisons anyone but vampires but the way you use it, I figure this is a possibility,” he returned.
“I’ll make sandwiches,” I told him. “You can’t screw up sandwiches.”
“That’s what you said about hamburgers before you screwed them up,” he told me.
“Well—” I started to huff but he kept going.
“And tuna casserole before you screwed that up too.”
“Shy!” I clipped.
“And those steaks, that roast chicken, and that soupy chocolate pie,” he went on.
“Shy—” I rolled up on my toes and got close—“shut up.”
He grinned.
I looked to Lan and announced, “You really need to take him for coffee so I have plenty of time to plot his murder. You can’t plot a murder distracted by hot guys, and now I have two of you on my hands.”
Lan was looking at me like the Tabby he met just minutes ago evaporated, a new Tabby took her place, and he’d never seen me before.
Then his eyes went to his brother, his face softened, they came back to me, he grinned a gentle, sweet grin and he informed me, “Honey, you do know you’re wearin’ nothin’ but a sheet.”
“I can’t think of that now,” I returned. “My biker boss hot guy just told his brother, the brother I just met, that I can’t cook. I have to focus on plotting murder, or at the very least revenge, and not on how I’m embarrassed I’m in a sheet which, might I add—” I turned angry eyes up to Shy “—is not my choice either. Just so you know, darlin’, I was headed to the bathroom when you plucked me out of bed, and it would have been nice to get there and put on at least a pair of panties before you hauled me across the room.”
“We went two feet,” he contradicted me.
“Two feet to you because you’re in jeans and you’ve known your brother since he was born. A football field to me because I’m”—I rolled up to my toes again—“in a sheet.”
“You’re more covered than most women walkin’ on the street, Tab,” he continued.
“The point right now is, I’d like to be more covered, Shy,” I retorted.
“And I’d like coffee, kids, so if you two can quit your bitchin’ and put some fuckin’ clothes on, we’ll go do that,” Lan cut in, laughter in his deep voice, and both Shy and I looked at him.
Shy grinned.
I snapped, “Fine, but one of you hotties needs to go out and get me a toothbrush. I have morning breath mixed with pizza breath and it’s not a good combination.”
I said this while pulling away from Shy, struggling with my sheet at the same time bending and swiping my stuff from the floor. I bundled it in my arms, pulled the sheet tighter, and stomped toward the bathroom but stopped, turning back to them and flipping the ends of my sheet out behind me like a Hollywood starlet threw back her train on the red carpet. I aimed a glare at Shy.
“Something to know about me, I use electric, always, but if I’m in a situa
tion, say now, where you have to hit Walgreens, I want a pink toothbrush and whitening toothpaste.” I cut my gaze to Lan and stated, “I won’t take long and we’ll get you coffee. Really glad you’re home safe. Shy was superworried.”
Then I glared through Shy and finished stomping out of the room and into the bathroom.
I was dumping my stuff on the vanity when the door opened, Shy stalked in, pulled me in his arms, and whispered against my lips, “I don’t care about morning pizza breath.”
He went ahead and proved this by kissing me, deep, wet, and long.
When he broke his mouth from mine, he grinned down at me and, still whispering, said, “You’re the shit, Tabitha Allen.”
Oh my God, that felt really, freaking good and I wasn’t just referring to the kiss.
“And you’re a great kisser, Shy Cage,” I replied, my words breathy.
He grinned, gave me a squeeze, let me go, and sauntered out the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
I turned to the mirror and saw I had wild sex hair that even I had to admit looked good, flushed cheeks that helped the overall look, and swollen lips that looked sultry as all get out.
And happy eyes.
Very happy eyes.
Shy’s brother was home.
And Shy was mine.
I smiled at myself in the mirror then I turned on the shower.
Chapter Ten
Rebound
“VIP! V… I… fuckin’… P!”
This was boomed out by the huge, shaggy blond-haired, russet-bearded guy that stood behind the espresso counter at Fortnum’s Used Books.
We had just come through the door, and I noted that he was not only looking our way but pointing a finger in our direction.
I’d only been there once years ago, the time I ran into Shy. But when he told me he was a regular there, I’d never come back for fear of running into him.
So it clearly wasn’t me he was declaring a VIP. The man lumbered from behind the espresso counter, pushed through the people standing in front of it and headed straight to Landon who, while I’d showered, had changed out of his fatigues into jeans and a tee.
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