Dylan (Inked Brotherhood 4)

“Talk?” Miles says and rolls his eyes.

“This is grown-up business, Miles,” I mutter and keep walking, Tessa behind me. My brain may be fuzzy, and a headache may be trying to hammer through my skull, but nothing can stop me from taking this girl to my bed and making love to her. The whole world can wait.

Death can wait, for all I care. This is happening, right here, right now.

“Seriously?” Tessa sounds like she’s trying not to laugh, as I drag her away. “We’re going to talk?”

“Seriously.” I pull her into my bedroom and slam the door closed behind us. Then I turn around and take her in my arms. “Now, where were we?”

“You needed some help,” she whispers, and fuck, I love her smile and the light in her eyes.

“That’s right.” I press against her, pushing her backward, letting her feel how hard I am for her. “This is what you do to me whenever you’re near, princess.”

“So I distract you both when I’m near and when I’m far.”

“Yeah. That’s how it is.” I nuzzle her cheek, inhaling her sweetness. “How it’s always been.”

Questions are crowding her gaze. I want to kiss her before she speaks but don’t get the chance.

“Why?” she whispers, looking straight into my eyes, into my soul. “Tell me why.”

“You have to be more specific,” I mutter, caught between desire and the need to see her smile return.

“I’m not asking why you broke up with me those years ago. We were kids, and you had a lot going on, with your mom leaving. I knew that. I know it. But now you say you always wanted me.”

“I did. I still do.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Her voice shakes now, vibrating with pain. “Why did you pretend you couldn’t see me and looked at every other girl instead?”

I gather her close. “I was an idiot. I thought it was for the best.”

She hits my chest with her fist, lightly. “For the best?”

I wish she’d hit me harder. I deserve it. “I thought you moved on. I was so damn jealous of every boy you kissed. Anyone you kissed that wasn’t me.”

“It was only kissing. It didn’t mean anything.”

I just hold her, feeling her warmth, her strength. Preparing to tell her the truth. I take a deep breath, let it out. “I’m scared of love.”

Her fist is still resting on my chest. Now her fingers uncurl, splayed over my heart. “Why?”

“Love fucked this family up.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “After my mom left, and I saw how it destroyed my dad… Love is dangerous. I thought if one could only turn it off, then it’d be safe. For my brothers. For me.”

She produces a choked sound, like a sob. “Is that what you’ve been doing all these years? Trying to turn love off?”

“It destroyed my family, Tess.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. It held your family together. Your love for your brothers, for your dad… It’s what makes you a family. Unlike mine.” She rests her cheek on my chest. “Mine fell apart because there was no love to hold it together.”

I say nothing, standing still. She’s right. I want to tell her, but words were never my strongest suit. I express myself through actions, so I lift my hands to her face, stroke her wet cheeks and kiss her.

It’s not just a kiss. It’s a kiss to end all kisses, to erase every other kiss from her memory. It’s a kiss to tell her how much she means to me, how much I want her, how much I need her.

Her arms come around my neck, and she kisses me back. I taste her tears, her anger, her grief, her love for me.

I’m hers.

I tug on her sweater, and she tugs on my pants. We fall on the bed in a tangle of limbs and discarded clothes. I suck on her neck as she rakes her nails down my back, then trail my mouth lower, on her bared breasts, teasing her nipples. Every inch of her tastes like candy apple and caramel, every part of her fits perfectly against mine—soft against hard, curve against flat plane.