Brick Page 5

  “You and I come from opposite ends of the world, darlin’. Did you understand what I said a bit ago? I don’t lie. I’m going to kill that son of a bitch. The shit you and I talk about is taken to the grave; you get me?”

  “I get you. I understood everything you said, Saxon.” I lift a brow at her calling me by my given name. The tender vixen has guts. There are very few people who call me that. It’s by choice. Mine.

  “You need to start taking care of yourself. You look like shit.” She jerks her head my way. I shrug. I call it as I see it.

  “I know. I don’t care anymore. That’s the thing, and as cliché as it is to say, Wilder is all I have left of her. She won’t rest peacefully until I have him. I know she won’t. Do whatever you have to do. I’m not going to stop you.” She shocks the hell out of me when she whispers the truth. I wasn’t worried about her turning me in. I was more concerned about how she would feel about me personally.

  Two firsts in one night. Fuck me.

  “Give me your keys.” Amelia sticks out her hand, her tiny little fingers making her little gimme motion. She needs to be tamed down. I reach into my pocket, drop them in her hand, grab a smoke, and slap Eden’s ass on the way to the opposite side of the deck.

  “Watch it,” she jabs. Oh, I’m watching it, alright. She’s had me rock hard all night. I’d love nothing more than to see what the good doctor can do.

  “Make sure you grab her keys, too. She might have eaten because I practically shoved it down her throat, but she’s been sucking down them shots of Honey Jack as much as me. If I have a buzz, then she’s fucking trashed.”

  I had to stand over the top of the woman to get her to eat half of the food on her plate. She stood up to me, too. Until I grabbed her by the arm, planted her in the chair next to me, and placed her plate on her lap.

  “I’m staying,” she slurs.

  Damn right, she is.

  I light my smoke, letting the nicotine draw deep into my lungs while I watch Eden. She may be grieving, hiding behind her sweatshirt, but she isn’t fooling me. Or Zeke. She’s alone. Or at least she thinks she is.

  Amelia snags Eden’s keys. Zeke is right behind her grabbing the baby monitor off the patio table.

  “Need to get my wife stripped down and naked in the shower. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”

  “Whoa!” Eden jumps up on her feet, wobbling back and forth. “It hasn’t been six weeks yet. There’s no way you can be having sex. Hell, her stitches—”

  Zeke’s roaring laughter mutes out Eden’s tirade. She wobbles back and forth, swaying so badly I’m afraid she’s about to get a face full of cement. I grab her by the hip, spreading one palm out to help steady her. The woman may have lost weight, but she has a sweet-looking ass. Fuck me. This is going to be trouble. Damn.

  “Calm down, Doc. I’m just going to wash her up and dream like a greedy motherfucker.” Zeke waves the baby monitor at us as he disappears into the house.

  Eden flops back in the lounger. Her hair is flowing down the back. Jesus. I’d love to grip that hair and settle in for the night.

  She doesn’t say a word, just stares at the stars for a long-ass time. We sit in silence. I have never felt so much peace in my life. Dealing with reality isn’t one of my strong suits. I drink, work for my club, and find anything else to get myself into. But this time on the open highway following the truck with guns, my mind did nothing but fight reality.

  Eden hiccups then lets out a little giggle, distracting me from my thoughts. Her eyes are growing heavy. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let her sleep out here.

  “Hey.” I place my palm on her thigh. “I’ll take the couch. You can have the guest bedroom. I’ll get it ready for you.”

  Eden rolls her head until she’s staring at me and grins. The girl is pissed drunk. She won’t have that smile on her face in the morning when she’s hurting like hell. I force myself to get up and head inside the house. I don’t fucking waste time or dick around in there. Not sure why I have this unsettled feeling about leaving her outside. I know Zeke’s house is locked down tighter than the fucking state penitentiary; that’s precisely why her ass needs to be inside.

  After tossing an ugly, flowered quilt on the couch, I kick off my black boots, make my way outside, and reach back tossing my shirt to the ground. The fucking night air is suffocating me. Feeling trapped is my one phobia that has the ability to paralyze me. I stride right back to the patio. Eden’s arms rise then slowly fall down to her side.

  My vision darts to the pile of clothes on the ground then back to her. She stretched out on the lounger on her stomach with her feet kicked up where your head goes and her elbows propping up her chin.

  I bite down on my knuckles when I realize I’m staring at the globes of her ass peeking out from her panties. A spark of light catches my attention, so I take a few steps closer, and that’s when I see her perfect, fuckable lips wrap around the end of one of my cigarettes. I grip the back of my head, tamping down the monster in my pants threatening to punch through. Jesus fucking Christ, those lips and my cock. Holy hell. My slice of heaven.

  She takes long pulls on the cigarette, exhaling the smoke into the night air. My own personal pin-up girl.

  “It fades and disappears in the deep dark night just like Wilder did.” She turns her head. “You know what I mean?”

  I take another step toward her, making sure to keep enough distance from giving my hand permission to spank her tight little ass. This is not the time or place to be thinking about her ass or her pussy underneath those silk panties, no matter how rock hard my dick is. Thinking that shit doesn’t help a damn bit. Ain’t no matter, though, not when he is hard as fuck.

  I run my palm over my chest, choosing my next words wisely.

  “Smoking is bad for you, doctor.”

  “Yeah?”

  I can’t help but grin when she slings back one of my favorite words.

  “Yeah.” I jerk my chin.

  She slowly rises to a sitting position, crossing her long legs with the lit cigarette dangling from her lips. It’s then I realize she’s wearing one of my motherfucking shirts. The confusion must be evident on my face because she answers my unspoken question.

  “Amelia gave it to me to sleep in. Said you leave your shit here when she does your laundry.” She plants her face in the material she’s bunched up in a fist. “But it doesn’t smell like you.” I’d love for you to smell like me. Your pussy, mouth, and your ass.

  “Here.” I pluck the cigarette from her fingers. Having no self-restraint when I bring it to my lips. Her taste overpowers the nicotine scent. “Smoking will kill you.”

  “Ironic.” She plops back down on the lounger, keeping her knees bent up. I’m about one second away from tugging my shirt down those long fucking legs of hers. She’s killing me here.

  I lift a brow when she reaches over, grabs the last of the Honey Jack, swallowing it in one long gulp. “You should quit smoking.” Is that a challenge?

  Even during the lowest point of her life, she’s still a feisty one. One half of it the whiskey, and I know for damn certain the other half is her warrior attitude. I sit back in the recliner, relaxing my elbows on the tops of my thighs and dropping my head. A smile is tugging at the corners of my mouth.

  “You put some damn meat back on them bones, and I’ll quit smoking.”

  Her long, crazy hair whips all around when she turns quickly to look at me. Shock is covering all her features. Her mouth opens wide. No words come out. She repeats the process over and over, making me smirk.

  “You really loved her, didn’t you?”

  Wasn’t expecting that shit by no means.

  “Darlin’.”

  “Stop.” She holds both hands up. “Don’t call me that shit anymore. I hate it.”

  Before I have the chance to speak, she’s up and on her feet. Paddling around until she’s sitting down facing me on her own lounge chair. “And don’t ever call me bitch. I understand it may be
a term of endearment for your—”

  My turn, vixen.

  “For my type of people?” I finish for her.

  She nods.

  “Listen real good to me. I don’t do bullshit or play games. I live a way of life I believe in, and ain’t nobody going to tell me different or judge it.” The veins in my neck pulse like they do every time I speak of my dedication to the Hell’s Lovers.

  “Other thing, darlin’.” I overemphasize the word to be sure I’m making my point clear. “I ain’t no fucking liar, thief, or rat. Zoe caught my eye the first time I saw her. Different circumstances, a different place, I would have had her in my bed. The thing is, I don’t share my women. She was off limits as soon I learned about Ricky. Been on the road a little shy of two weeks now and had lots of time to think. I was infatuated with her. I didn’t love her. I cared for her. The thing is, I love my family and Amelia loved Zoe, so it makes it my business.”

  I whip my neck to the side listening to the bones creak and crack. Just like my words did to Eden. I’m not about painting any pretty fucking pictures or offering up happily ever afters. I am who I am and don’t make excuses to or for a fucking person. I may have gone a bit far, but that shit needed to be cleared up.

  “Thank you,” she whispers.

  “Thank you?” I lift her trembling chin up, forcing her to look at me. “You are saying thank you after I just put you in your place, darlin’? Is that what I’m hearing?” She nods, pulls back from my touch, and then slowly raises her hand, flipping me the middle finger.

  “Thing about me, Brick. I don’t play games either. My world is black and white. Thanks for being honest.” She stands up without warning, wobbling on her fucking legs like a newborn calf. I stay close behind her fighting the urge to throw her ass over my shoulder. I point the way down the hall and then fling the door open for her. My chest pushes into her back, then my dick hardens on contact when her ass pushes into it.

  “Good night.” I jerk my chin then walk back out to the couch wondering what in the hell just happened. Women and whiskey.

  I’m a fucking bastard, and I know it. I’ve been known as the Grim Reaper to many. However, when the time calls for it, I do have manners; leaving her like that was my only choice. If she weren’t grieving and drunk, I would’ve crawled into that fucking bed with her. Wrapped her aching soul up in my arms until she fell asleep. The way I’m feeling about her ain’t nothing compared to what I felt for Zoe. It’s crass but the truth. I wanted to fuck Zoe, and that’s it. I’m starting to feel something else than only wanting to fuck Eden. You would think that would scare the hell out me. The funny thing is, it doesn’t.

  The couch fucking sucks when I lay my head down. Half of my frame is spilling off it. The whiskey and the wear and tear from being on the road for days on end make it easy to find sleep in spite of my mind telling me my back is going to be hurting. My eyes drift shut. My mind closes down, and all the fucked-up stress evaporates.

  I reach for the alarm trying to slam it in order to shut it the fuck off. I roll off the couch, landing with a loud thud on the floor. “Son of a bitch.”

  It’s then I realize I’m at Zeke’s and not my place. A shrilling sound echoes from down the hallway.

  Eden.

  I jump to my feet, pull my gun from my pants, and haul ass toward her.

  Pushing the door open, I see she’s alone and curled up in the middle of the oversized mattress, crying desperately. She fights to catch her breath. Damn. Why is it when I see this woman cry it cuts me open? I tuck the gun into the waistband of my boxers.

  “Eden.”

  She doesn’t acknowledge me, so I move in closer.

  “You alright?”

  Her words come in a broken tandem. “When I sleep, I see her dead body on the metal table. I wake up, close my eyes again, and I hear Wilder crying for me while Ricky’s evil laugh is coming from every direction.” I run my hands through the messy hair on top of my head trying to rip it from my fucking scalp.

  “I’ll go get your warm milk.”

  The fuck? Warm milk. I’ve lost my shit.

  She rolls over, showing me her red, puffy face. There’s a hint of a smile peeking out. “Don’t you mean ‘I’ll go get you some warm milk, darlin’, because I’m badass like that?’” I can’t help but smile. Anyone else tried that shit with me, and I’d lay their ass out.

  “My sister always wanted warm milk when she couldn’t sleep.” She nods while I’m standing here hoping the booze is still hitting her head. I’m not in the mood to double down my stress and talk about Clara.

  “I don’t want to be alone.” I close my eyes. The pressure building.

  “Fuck,” I growl. Dick twitching. I should have jacked that pierced motherfucker off. He is going to be hurting.

  She reaches out, grabbing my forearm, tugging me down. No damn way am I getting underneath the blankets when she curls back up into a tiny ball with her ass pressing into me. Fucking torture.

  Sleeping all night with a chick has never been my thing. Cuddling? Definitely not.

  I throw my arm over her, tugging her back to my chest, then run my nose through her hair, pulling in her scent after I place my gun on the nightstand.

  “You need sleep, Eden. I’ve got you.”

  “I ain’t family, though.”

  I don’t miss the fact she’s using my slang again. I swat her ass that’s covered up by the blanket.

  “Must be fond of you, then,” I growl into her hair.

  Three firsts in twenty-four hours, Brick. You better swing, motherfucker, or you're going to be out. Yeah, I’ll be swinging. Going to be a man and do it when the time is right.

  Silence pulls us back to sleep. The darkness in the room our lullaby. Her rhythmic breathing is easing a pain deep inside of me that’s been simmering for years.

  The creaking of the door alerts me to someone being in the room. I’ve been awake for an hour but haven’t wanted to move in fear of waking Eden. Motherfucking pussy. She’s clinging to my body, her arms and legs tangled all around me. Her cheek pressed against my bare chest. This woman was made to be in my arms. Swear to Christ, she was.

  I crane my neck to see Zeke standing in the doorway red-faced and pissed off. My eyes go wide trying to explain to him nothing happened. The bastard doesn’t believe me, though; I can see it in his eyes. He finally walks out of the room shaking his head. Ain’t none of his business where my dick plays anyway, but Jesus, he could have a little more faith in me.

  I try to roll over, only causing Eden to stir. When I’m flat on my back, there’s no way to miss my tented boxers, revealing my raging hard-on. Goddamn balls are going to fall off real soon. Eden stretches out beside me like a cat sunning in a warm window. My teeth bite down on my bottom lip to a near painful point. I do my best to cover up my dick, but some things you can’t hide.

  Eden perches up on her elbows, glancing right down to the skyscraper under my boxers. Using my hand, I try to cover up.

  “Sorry, darlin’,” I begin to explain.

  The fucking vixen smiles at me. “I’m a doctor. I know how the human body works, Brick. Go rub one out in the shower.”

  Her smile is gone in a flash when she grabs her head. Hangover city.

  “Appreciate the concern regarding my cock. Lie back down. You’re going to be a whole lot of hurting today.”

  You just wait until I get a hold of you. I’ll hurt you in a pleasurable way.

  Six

  Eden

  “This is the third time Jamie Watson has complained about how his wife being pregnant has changed her sex drive. I’m not sure what else I can say to make him understand that it’s normal. The man is driving me crazy.” I take a sip of my wine, uncross my legs, and lean across the table. I’m about to give this young woman a lesson on client confidentiality 101. Stupid little girl. She will never get very far if she doesn’t learn it now.

  “Maybe it’s time to toss being professional to the side. Be blunt. Tell him the blood f
lows to a woman’s pussy the same way it flows to a man’s cock when they are horny. In pregnant women’s cases, the blood flows more often. Then tell him he should be thankful her hormones are working that way instead of growing hair all over her face or farting all the time,” I say with a straight face to the so-called nurse across from me. I’ve been back to work for three weeks and finally agreed to go out with a few of the nurses from work. This young lady across from me is damn lucky she doesn’t work for me, or she’d never work again.

  All she’s been doing for the last half hour is rattling on about certain clients who drive her crazy. Not to mention, she’s way out of line when it comes to professionalism by telling me their names.

  “That would be stepping over the line quite a bit, don’t you think?” she remarks with a red face. Hmm. I hope my words are sinking in.

  “My point exactly, Stacy.” I grab my clutch. Forget about my wine and the little tart who I hope is smart enough to sit there and chew on what I said. I doubt it.

  I look for my favorite, very professional nurse, Gigi. When I see her at the bar, I weave my way through the crowd and nearly trip in my Valentinos.

  Saxon Hartley is sitting at a table with a group of men. He looks comfortable and sexy as hell as they all toss back a shot, stand, shake hands, and the men with him leave. Saxon strides to the bar, pulls out his wallet, and I’m struck dumb. He is not my type at all, but my God, the throb he’s giving me between my legs doesn’t seem to care. Neither does my head. He is downright gorgeous.

  I haven’t seen or talked to him since the night at Zeke and Amelia’s where I embarrassed the hell out of myself. Drinking too much and smoking a cigarette. I swear I tasted the nicotine in my mouth for a week.

  I sure as hell have thought about him, though. A lot. For heaven’s sake. He has a nice ass. He said he doesn’t play games. I wonder if he’d let me play quarter bounce off his backside. Shit, I’m sweating.