Page 77 of Steele

The man’s hand on Jaymi replayed through my mind. I know I’d made her uncomfortable. Neither one of us could look away. She had to be thinking the same thing as I was. Who was the woman at my table? And I wanted to know who had been at hers. I stretched my neck, opened my phone, and sent her a text.

Brett: I was with my lawyer at lunch today.

I tugged on my riding gloves while I waited for a response. I didn’t have to wait long.

Jaymi: What happened?

Jaymi: What did she say?

Jaymi: Maybe you should just come over.

My thumbs flew across the phone screen.

Brett: I work behind the bar tonight. I’ll be late again.

Jaymi: I mean, can you come over now? We need to talk.

A hot spike of emotion hit my chest. Come over sounded like she wanted to know what Regina said. But we need to talk hit differently. No, I didn’t want to talk, not if she was pulling back again.

I pushed that thought away. We’d been solid for the last two weeks. I’d been in her bed every fucking night. She wouldn’t play me dirty. Something else must be going on.

Saturday afternoon in her neighborhood? No way did I roll up without notice. But I was going to trust she knew what she risked.

Brett: On my way.

Jaymi: The garage door is open.

I started the engine, lifted the sidestand, and rumbled out of the parking lot. Fifteen minutes later, I rolled up her driveway, into the garage, and parked next to her vehicle. I left my gloves on the seat and hit the button to close the garage door as I exited.

The side door of the house was ajar. I pushed it open. “It’s me,” I said and sat on the bench to take off my boots. After two weeks of letting myself in, her house was beginning to feel like home.

“Brett.” I heard her voice before she came around the corner. At the restaurant, she’d been wearing jeans that hugged her ass. She’d changed into a pair of booty shorts. She had her hair pulled into a messy bun and big furry socks on her feet. Her big green eyes landed on me.

My chest tightened. This woman. Fuck yeah, I’d been jealous of the man at lunch. He’d had her smiling and softly whispering across the table at him, but she hadn’t been afraid to let him see her preoccupation with me. She also hadn’t acknowledged me. And I hadn’t said anything to her either. Not with my lawyer sitting at the table. Not without violating the protective order.

“What did the lawyer say?”

I stood, stalked toward her, and banded my fingers around the nape of her neck. I canted her head and crashed my lips into hers. With a whimper, her mouth opened and her tongue searched for mine. I filled my other hand with her ass and crushed her against the hard ridge of my dick.

For a moment, she simply kissed me, and then she was all in. Her arms twined around my neck, and her fingers curled into the collar of my shirt. I gripped her ass and lifted. Her legs wrapped around me as I carried her into the kitchen, set her on the counter, split her thighs, and ground my dick against the sweet heat of her pussy.

I sucked the warm flesh of her neck, feeling the flutter of her pulse against my tongue.

“I hated today,” she whispered as her head tipped back. “I hated seeing you with another woman.”

“Same.” I growled and burrowed my hand under her hoodie. Her tit was soft and full in my palm. “I told you what I’d do if anyone had their hands on you.”

She chuckled. “You can’t break my brother’s arms.”

I inched back and stared into her eyes. “Your brother?” A euphoric feeling of relief surged through me. I rested my forehead against hers. “Not gonna lie. It sucked seeing you with him. Now, I feel like an ass.”

“I don’t think either one of us was very good at hiding our feelings.” Her delicate palm feathered over the side of my head. “I told him about you.”

“Yeah? You told him you were slumming it with a Heller on a Harley?”

She smiled. “I hadn’t thought to phrase it like that.” She sighed. “I’m not sure how he’s going to feel about my becoming a Heller whore.”

“He doesn’t have to know.”