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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Tessa

I’d been successful at avoiding alone time with Rook. I even managed to keep my distance when we went to the clubhouse to have Detroit’s food with his brothers and some of the women.

I managed that by showing up late, then going to hang out with the chickens or walking Murphy’s dogs after our meal.

And, of course, work came in clutch when it came to not being stuck in the tiny apartment with Rook all around, looking how he looked, conjuring up fantasies I had no business thinking.

By the time I finished up my last deliveries, fueled up the car, and grabbed myself something to eat, I was making my way into the apartment sometime after ten or so.

From there, it was easy to kill another hour or two by doing laundry and taking a shower before bed.

Was I exhausted? Down to my bones. But it was the only way I could stay away from Rook without it seeming like I was trying to stay away from him.

But with how bad my damn feet had been aching, I was starting to think that I should pick up some hobby or something that would keep me away from home.

The foot roller I’d bought had been helping but not quite alleviating the pain entirely.

Unlike Rook’s magic damn fingers.

The second Nancy left, I really should have climbed off the couch, put the distance between us again.

Because the second his thumbs pressed into my aching arches, there was no moving away.

At first, the touch was genuinely just comforting, pain-relieving.

It wasn’t long, though, before the sensation went from sweet to heated.

Was part of it pent-up sexual frustration from not even allowing myself to rub away the tension I’d been feeling toward Rook?

Sure.

But as Rook’s fingers went up my calves, I started to believe it was more than that. Deeper.

As he touched me, it occurred to me that it was the first time in my whole life that a man had touched me purely for my enjoyment.

Maybe to some, that wasn’t a big deal. But to me, it felt significant. To know selflessness from a man, to enjoy selfishly. My former life had never afforded me that luxury.

I was just coming to terms with that when Rook’s fingers found the backs of my knees.

And I damn near had a little O right then and there.

As it was, a needy moan escaped me and my legs parted in silent invitation for more.

No one could fault Rook for accepting that invitation.

His one hand flattened and traveled up my inner thigh. I had plenty of time to object, to think better of what was going on, of coming to my damn senses.

I did none of that.

I just let my eyes drift closed and focused on the sensations as—at first—he was just massaging my muscles.

But then his fingers were moving over my pelvis, teasing over the V above my sex.

I expected more teasing, more touching.

But, suddenly, Rook’s fingers were grabbing the waistbands of my pants and panties and dragging them down and off.

I was bare before I could even wrap my head around what was happening.

Then Rook was shifting up, spreading my legs wide, then settling between.

My whole body jolted as his tongue teased up my cleft.

My hand slapped down on the back of his neck as my thighs closed around the side of his head, rocking as he worked his way up to my clit and started to work around it in delicious little circles.

There was no stopping the little whimpers that grew to moans as he worked me relentlessly, never giving my body a second to have the pleasure retreat.

He had me to the edge, back arching, thighs shaking, then sent me soaring over and crashing down. My startled cry filled the room as the waves crashed through me again and again.

But when I came back down, Rook still wasn’t done with me.

His tongue had retreated to the outside of my clit, not quite touching, but teasing, promising more.

It wasn’t long before my breathlessness became little mewling sounds again.

It was then that his hand slid between us, two fingers thrusting inside me.

The sound that escaped me then was feral, almost animalistic, as my walls tightened and brought on a rush of wet need.

Against my skin, Rook let out a rumbling groan that vibrated around my clit.

His tongue was back on me after that as his fingers started to thrust, giving me the friction that my body had been crying out for every night when I woke up sweaty and aching from dreams of him.

He drove me up effortlessly until my thighs were shaking, my breath was ragged, my moans were filling the apartment.

My hand slapped down and curled on my thigh.

But then Rook’s hand was there, sliding under mine, holding on just as the orgasm soared through me.

I swear the world shattered apart, that I saw through time and space for a moment. And all through it, Rook’s hand squeezed mine, his fingers and tongue worked me, dragging it out, making sure I got every last thrill of pleasure until I was flat against the cushions again, panting, shaking.

Overwhelmed with sensation.

Rook’s head shifted, pressing kisses to the inside of my thighs as they fell open, making a slow path downward, but still holding onto my hand.

It took a surprisingly long time for me to come back down, to come back into my right mind.

And the old thoughts came rushing through my mind. Things that had been battered into me for years. About sex. About how it worked.

And there was no taking.

Not without giving.

I knew what was expected of me.

Taking a deep breath to try to calm the chaos in my body, I reached down, pushing Rook until he took the silent demand and moved back against the couch.

I kneeled beside him, my hands going right to the fly of his jeans, my moves robotic.

“Babe, wait,” Rook said, brows pinched, seeing or sensing something that was giving him pause.

But I knew what I needed to do.

“Tessa,” Rook said again, this time reaching to close his hand around my wrist.

“No, I have to—”

His whole body tensed at that, and his hand tightened around my wrist, stilling my movements.

“You have to?” he asked, head tipped to the side, watching me with something dark in his eyes. “What do you—” he started.

But it was right then that we heard it.

Footsteps on the stairs outside.

I flew away from him, expecting Nancy to come charging through the door.

I was so distracted by gathering my pants and panties and rushing into the bathroom that I didn’t even notice that it was too many footsteps to have been Nancy again.

It wasn’t until I had dragged my clothes back on that I noticed it was several male voices in the apartment.

I took an extra minute, trying to deep breathe some calm back into my system.

On the one hand, I was glad for the interruption. It seemed like Rook was about to do something that, so far, he’d been respectful enough not to do: ask about my past.

On the other, though, my stomach felt like it was in knots. Because whether it was right or not, sexual politics were… complicated for me. And the fact that things were now uneven was making me feel antsy.

In my life before, things had to be, well, even. Actually, if anything, women were the givers; men, the takers. And maybe if you had a good one, you got to have some pleasure here and there too. But it wasn’t necessary. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t the point .

And there were different sorts of consequences for you if you thought you could take without giving. Sometimes, it was as ‘simple’ as that man grabbing a clubwhore to do the job for him, all the while telling the club what a selfish bitch you were, how you didn’t know how to take care of your man. While you watched, heartsick and humiliated. And, yeah, sometimes, it was uglier than that. More…forceful than that.

So, I’d learned quickly to always be a giver. To never demand anything for myself. To never let my man get it up without putting it down, whether I wanted to or not.

Did I want to believe that there were men out in the world who weren’t like that? Ones who were selfless? Ones who cared about a woman’s feelings and her pleasure? Sure. But I’d also been around long enough to believe that chances were higher that most of them were like the men I’d known before. Especially bikers.

Besides that, though, there was the fact that things were complicated enough with Rook. I didn’t need anything else to worry about.

So I had to even things up.

Then just… put an end to it.

It wasn’t like it would be difficult for Rook to find another woman to take my place. I mean, he was gorgeous. And, yeah, the man knew what he was doing.

I shook those thoughts away and moved out of the bathroom, not wanting the club to think I was being rude or antisocial.

“Hey,” I said, giving Raff, Colter, and Coach a small smile as I moved into the kitchen.

The apartment was barely big enough for Rook and me. It felt downright claustrophobic with three huge bikers inside of it with us.

“There you are, you gorgeous thing,” Raff—ever the charmer—greeted me. “Maybe you can talk some sense into Rook.”

“About what?” I asked. I could feel Rook’s gaze on me, but I kept my own on his club brothers.

“He said you two can’t come party tonight because you have early plans tomorrow.”

“Oh, we have to drug test tomorrow,” I explained. “So we can’t drink,” I added. I mean, I could. Since I was technically not on parole and it was fully legal. But I wasn’t going to because I didn’t want to give Nancy anything she could use against us. That said, I didn’t want to sit alone in an apartment with Rook looking at me like he wanted to have a heart-to-heart, either. “But I’d be happy to come hang anyway. Steal some leftovers from the fridge.”

“Leftovers? Oh, honey baby,” Raff said, throwing his arm around my shoulders. “Detroit cooked for us.”

“Then I’m definitely in.”

“You hear that? Your girl is coming. You gotta come too,” Raff declared before dragging me toward the door before Rook could object.

“She needs her shoes,” Rook called as Raff kept pulling me out the door.

“Says who?” Raff asked, leaning down, and throwing me over his shoulder, his arm pinned on the backs of my thighs as he went down the steps.

My belly bottomed out at the sudden change. But also at being manhandled by one of Rook’s brothers.

Sure, Raff was just a flirty guy. But he shouldn’t have been putting his hands on someone who belonged to his club brother.

Rook would rightfully be furious. And in my experience, that anger would be directed at me for allowing it, more so than on his brother for perpetrating it.

Panicking, I pounded my fists into Raff’s back as we got to the lower landing.

“Put her the fuck down, man,” Rook said. His voice was calm. But I knew calm could be deceptive. So when Raff put me on my feet and headed over toward the woman waiting on his bike, I turned toward Rook, eyes a little wide.

“I didn’t ask him to pick me up.”

“Yeah, I know. I was there,” Rook said, those brows of his pinching again as he handed me my shoes to slip into.

“I didn’t fight until he was on the ground because I didn’t want to fall.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He was still watching me like some sort of experiment gone wrong, like he was trying to figure out what combination of ingredients had gotten screwed up.

“Hey, Tessa,” Colter called, making me look over to see him standing next to my car with several women in tight dresses. “You mind giving the girls a ride?”

Thank God.

A buffer against any questions or weird looks from Rook.

“Sure,” I said, offering him a smile I didn’t feel as I approached my car.

With that, the girls shuffled into the back, Rook climbed in the front, and we were following the bikes toward the clubhouse.

As soon as we got there, I made a beeline for the spread Detroit had left on the island. He’d opted for easy finger foods that leaned a little heavily on the carbs and grease to try to cushion all the alcohol that was going to be consumed.

While I wasn’t going to drink, I loaded up a plate, hoping the food would fill the weird sloshing feeling in my stomach.

Accustomed to loud, crazy club parties, I moved over toward the dining chairs and ate my food while the music swelled, while the beer pong table was pulled out, while the rules were laid out that not only do the losers drink, but they lose an article of clothing.

I’d seen many a naked poker game in my life. Not to mention people literally fucking right in the middle of a party. So, yeah, there was nothing shocking when a pair of boobs flashed out. Then a whole ass as a skirt was lost, leaving a girl in nothing but a G-string.

I refused to seek out Rook, to know what girl he was flirting with. Or more.

Instead, I kept my gaze on the interactions between the two mostly naked girls and Raff and Colter as they decided to switch teams.

Raff playfully covered his eyes to protect the girl on the other team’s modesty.

Colter wrapped a casual arm around the same girl who was all too happy to plaster her bare chest to him as he aimed and sent a ball sailing into a cup across the table.

Once I finished my food, I set the plate in the dirty dishwasher, then made my way casually toward the hallway, like I was just seeking out the bathroom. When what I really intended was to go to Rook’s room and crash while the party raged, trying not to think about what Rook was doing. And with whom.

It was none of my damn business.

It wasn’t like we were together for real. He could sleep with whoever he wanted.

Hell, even if we were together for real, my life told me that even that didn’t mean monogamy.

I’d just stepped into the freight elevator and was starting to pull down the door when someone else grabbed it from the outside, dragging it back up again.

“Going somewhere?” Rook asked as he stepped inside, sliding the door closed behind me.

“Oh, I, uh, was just going to your bedroom. You can stay down there and have fun. Coach, Raff, and Colter are, you know, outnumbered.”

“Yet, somehow they’ll manage,” he said, slamming his hand into the emergency stop button when the elevator was between the two floors.

Well, this was as good a time as any, right?

“Okay,” I said, moving away from the wall and walking toward him, my hands going to his button and zip, then starting to lower myself down.

I didn’t expect the exasperated sigh to escape Rook. Or for him to reach for both my hands, stopping them from undoing his pants, then pulling me back up to my feet.

“Listen,” he said, turning me so my back was to his chest, then anchoring me with an arm around my belly. “When I touch you,” he went on, his hand sliding up my thigh, making my breath catch, “I am not doing it because I am expecting anything from you. I’m doing it because I like touching you.” His fingers pressed between my legs, making my head fall back against him, a low whimper escaping me.

Rook’s fingers did a little circle against my clit through my pants. “There’s no scoreboard. No one is keeping a tally.” His fingers kept working me as he spoke, making it almost impossible to focus on his words as the need in me grew. “And while I would love it if you touched me, I want it to be out of a genuine desire to do it, not out of some sick sense of obligation.”

His fingers grew more frantic, demanding, driving me up so effortlessly.

“And until I’m sure that’s what’s happening,” Rook went on, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to my temple as I whimpered and rocked against his touch, “I’m happy to just keep doing this.” His fingers pressed a little harder, making the orgasm surge through me, making me cry out as my legs went shaky.

His hand slid out from between my thighs, reaching out to hit the elevator button again. The other stayed around me, holding onto me as I slowly came down from the orgasm.

Did I maybe allow myself one extra moment of enjoying the closeness, of the strength of him against me? Yeah.

But I did force myself to step out of his arms eventually.

Taking his cue from me, Rook moved out from behind me to reach down and pull the door up.

He waved outward, inviting me to pass.

I did.

“Oh, and Tessa?” he called, making me stop mid-stride.

I angled my head back, but didn’t turn, finding myself feeling a little too exposed and vulnerable to look at him right then.

“I’m never going to be pissed off that you have fun with my brothers. First, because I don’t own you. Second, because I trust you. And them. You don’t have to explain yourself. Okay?”

“Okay.”

There was one blissful second where I thought he might let it drop. But then he spoke again.

“Look, I don’t know what happened at your old club. And I’m not asking because it’s not my business if you don’t want to tell me. But I feel like I can say that all that shit that you dealt with there that makes you go all round-eyed and panicked now, that’s not shit you gotta worry about here. With me.”

I wanted so badly to believe him. But it was going to be really hard to shut that little voice in my head up.

“Alright.”

“And babe?” he called when I started to move away again.

“Yeah?”

“Just putting this out there. If you want to tell me about all that shit, I’m a good listener.”

With that, he retreated into the elevator and pulled the door closed.

The old part of me—so damaged, so used to mind games and harsh consequences for even the most minor of infractions—wanted to think he was being spiteful in walking away, that he was just bullshitting me and was going to go downstairs and get his dick sucked by someone else after making it sound like he was going to wait for me to want to do it.

The newer part of me—the one who was trying so hard to unlearn all those life lessons that no longer served me—decided that he was leaving me alone to give me time to think on his words, to see how much he meant them.

As I slipped into his bed, listening to the party sounds from the floor below, I did genuinely think he was being honest when he said he only wanted me if I was one hundred percent enthusiastic about it.

And the crazy thing was… I suddenly felt that way. I lay there, pussy aching at the very idea of going down on him, of giving him some of the pleasure he’d given me.

That, well, that was new.

Even if I knew it was probably not smart to let myself pursue it.

As I drifted to sleep, there was one thing I was very clear on, though.

I couldn’t open up to him.

I couldn’t tell him about my past, about the club, about the people inside of it, about the men who made me need to gather only what I could carry and sneak out while everyone was asleep.

It was too risky.

There was too much at stake.

Because if Rook knew everything, there was no way in hell he would go through with marrying me.

Not even if it was fake.