Tyler (Inked Brotherhood 2)

He doesn’t speak for a long moment. His hand strokes my back. Then he says, “It’s all better when I’m with you.”

I melt. How can I not? “I’m sorry I ran away two days ago, but I it’s not the panic attacks. I was just—”

“Stop.” He brushes hair off my face and gazes down at me, his face serious. “I understand if I freaked you out. You don’t have to explain. Just give me time before you make your decision. Let me try to make it up to you.”

I open my mouth, and he places a finger on my lips.

“Give me a chance. The reason I brought you here was to tell you about my decision.”

“Your decision?” I whisper.

He smiles and his eyes soften. “You asked me what I really want, and I didn’t get a chance to spell it out. So here it is: I want you. I want everything. Not just sex. Though that’s hot.” As if to demonstrate, his arousal pokes me in the belly. “Not just the kissing, though I’d rather kiss you than breathe. Not just the undressing, though I want to have you naked against me every day and night. But all the rest, too.”

“The rest?”

“I want you to be mine.” He says it seriously, his eyes staring down at me.

“Tyler…” My heart is trying to break free of my chest. I blurt the first thought that comes to my mind. “I promised myself I wouldn’t go out with a Devlin again.”

“Well, then you’re in luck.” One side of his mouth lifts in a dark grin. “I’m not a Devlin. I go by Tyler Grayson now.”

I gape at him, speechless.

He strokes my neck, cups the back of my head. “I love you, Erin. Always have. I know I let you down, and I know I’ve hurt you, but it’s always been you. I’ve told you everything, and I’ll do everything it takes to make you trust me again. You have my word.”

And then he kisses me, with tongue and teeth, scattering my thoughts in all directions, until my worries and fears melt away, and he’s the only thing left in the world.

Chapter Nineteen

Tyler

What the hell am I doing? After spilling my guts and having my girl in my arms, ready to forgive me, I take her back to her apartment and give her a chaste kiss on the lips—instead of grabbing her and taking her on the spot.

She invited me up, but I said no. Sticking to my plan is hard.

Have I gone fucking nuts? Bring me the straitjacket.

Dating. That’s the idea. I even googled it today to make sure I got the facts right. Movies. Rides. Picnics. There was also mention of roses and sunsets, and goddammit I’ll do that, too, if Erin likes it.

My gaze lingers on her pretty curves as she saunters to her building. Perched on my bike, my arms crossed over my chest, I bite the inside of my cheek not to call her back, take her to my place and do wicked things to her.

Is this a mistake? Have I fucked this up even more than before? Did she want me to take her to bed? I thought I saw a flicker of disappointment when I announced my plan of bringing her back. I thought giving her control of the situation would make her happy. That it would show her I’m serious.

As if I know anything about what women want. I’ve always taken what I needed and never cared. Until now.

I’ve never felt so out of my depth in my life. She does want me, I can see it in the way she looks at me, kisses me, the way her body responds to me. But does she want to be with me? I feel as if there’s something she’s not telling me.

The lights go off in the lobby, and after a while, her window lights up. I still can’t make myself leave. I want her with me. Visions flash before my eyes—of myself walking into her room and pressing her against the wall, entering her and pleasuring her until she screams my name.

Fuck. I could stay here all night, wondering and wanting. So I rev up my bike and ride away before I give in and go up to her room. Full of restless energy, I drive through the streets, desperately looking for a distraction. Trying to remember what she liked when she was fifteen. Wondering if she still likes the same things now.

Well, she still likes me.

I think.

Shit.

Oh, what the hell. I’ll try. That’s all I can do. I need to bring my A-game and get my girl back.