42
As John Wayne plowed his fist into another man’s face, Brick wondered how the hell he’d gotten so fucking lucky. He’d spent the last forty-eight hours hating himself for what he’d said. What he’d done.
What kind of an asshole says “I love you,” delivers a rough good-bye fuck, then walks out while his girl was still on the floor?
The Brick Callan kind of asshole.
He’d been handed the woman of his dreams naked on a platter, and what had he done? He’d immediately looked for reasons why they wouldn’t work instead of ways they could work.
Remi giggled next to him on the couch. The lights were on low. The fire burning off the chill of the cold night. Snow falling silently outside. Their empty plates were stacked on the coffee table. Magnus was curled up on Remi’s feet under the blanket, exhausted from his catnip high.
It was like a fantasy. Not all of his fantasies had involved Remi naked. Some had been staged just like this. A quiet, snowy night with the woman he loved curled against him, borrowing his heat.
He stroked his hand through her hair, and she let out a sigh that sounded almost like a purr. It was perfect. This moment.
The fight on-screen moved from the pub into the street. Apparently, public brawls were a sport in Ireland. One he understood. He’d fight for Remington. He’d fight any enemy to keep her safe, to defend her honor. He’d fight to show her what was in his heart.
He let his fingers whisper up and down her arm. Slowly, rhythmically. Reassuring himself that she was there.
She wanted to spend time with him. To date without the distraction of sex. Of course, he’d been rail-hard since the second she’d walked in wearing her ridiculous plaid pajamas with her hair a mess and her face scrubbed clean. She was more beautiful to him like this. Because this felt like the real Remi.
Dipping his head, he indulged himself and dropped a kiss to her fiery hair. She looked up at him. Those wide green eyes spearing right through him.
He loved her. He always had. There had never been another choice.
Slowly he lowered his mouth to hers. The connection they shared was undeniable. His blood heated as her lips moved gently under his. As she sighed into his mouth and he breathed her in. “Remington.”
He took the kiss deeper, fighting to stay easy and sweet. But when he tasted her tongue, when she let out that tiny whimper that went straight to his cock, he was ravenous for her. He teased with tongue and teeth, stroking into her mouth as he pulled her into his lap.
He was so goddamn hard for her. Only her.
Then she was pulling back and taking a ragged breath. Her cheeks were red, and those lips were swollen and parted. It looked like an invitation for more. But when he moved to take her mouth again, she stopped him. “I’m going to head back,” she whispered.
“What?” His arms banded around her, his body tensing at the thought of her leaving. He’d gone two nights without her in his bed. He wouldn’t make it a third. “Don’t people who date spend the night together?”
She gave him a wide-eyed, dazed look. “Brick. Honey. I can’t trust myself to get between the sheets with you and not do all the things we’re not going to do.”
“I think I can fend you off,” he scoffed, tracing a thumb over her lower lip. It quivered at his touch.
She slid around so she was straddling him. But she stayed high on her knees, preventing the friction he craved. “No,” she kissed him. “You can’t.”
Gripping her hips, he yanked her down against his rigid arousal and watched as her eyes went glassy. Her gasp filled him with the kind of filthy desires one night could never quench. He needed more time with her. More from her.
He wasn’t sure if he was testing her or himself. Did she really understand that there was more between them than sex? Did he believe he deserved more from her?
When she put her hands on his shoulders and leaned forward, it was a soft, chaste kiss that she pressed to his mouth.
“Thank you for a really nice night,” she whispered, brushing another kiss over his cheek.
She took his fucking breath away.
“You can’t be serious,” he said as she got off his lap and started to gather their dishes. He rose, taking the plates from her and putting them back down.
“I’m serious. I hurt you. Now I’m making up for it.”
The throbbing erection in his fucking sweatpants was hurting him. He needed to be inside her. Needed to remind her how much she wanted him.
“You made your point,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said anything. We’re good. Come upstairs, Remington.”
“No.” She said it simply, finally, then left the room. He followed her feeling flummoxed and panicky. As if one word from her could stop him from tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her upstairs, making her scream his name as he drowned in her body.
“You know how I feel about you saying no to me,” he said, envisioning how satisfying it would be to tug down those pajama pants and lay a pink handprint on her ass. His pants weren’t even trying to contain his hard-on at this point.
“I’m not making a point or playing games or doing some grand seduction, Brick,” she said as she tugged on her boots.
God damn it. He could see right down her pajama top, and she wasn’t wearing a bra.
She really was leaving.
“I don’t want you to go,” he admitted, his voice whisper-soft.
She straightened and put her arms around his waist, hugging him. “I swear I’m not leaving to punish you or hurt you. I’m committed to doing this right, Brick. You mean a lot to me. More than...more than I think I even realized. I want to show you how important you are.”
“Then stay. Stay with me.”
Her smile was so sad and so sweet it went into his heart like a knife through soft butter. “If I stay, we both know what will happen, and that’s not what either one of us needs.”
He needed it. He needed it desperately.
Fuck. He reached for his coat. “I’ll walk you home.”
“No,” she said firmly. “You can stand here on the porch and watch me cross the street.”
“I want you,” he said, stunned that his voice actually shook.
“I want you, too. But I want to give you more than just a couple of orgasms. Okay?”
He didn’t answer her. Couldn’t answer her. His throat was too tight. Fear lodged in him. He’d pushed her too far. Been too honest. And now he was paying for it. She was leaving him. All under the guise of giving him what he’d stupidly said he wanted.
He wanted to pick her up, carry her upstairs, and reacquaint her with how desperate his need for her was.
But that wouldn’t solve anything.
Magnus wandered up next to him and yawned out a meow.
Brick blew out a breath. He had to let her go. Had to trust that she’d come back.
“Okay,” he said finally.
Her entire face lit up, and giving her what she wanted made him feel powerful in a way that conquering her body didn’t.
“I’m going to be the best damn girlfriend you’ve ever had,” she said brightly.
“Girlfriend?” She’d said the word. She’d labeled them.
“It’s official, big guy. Better get used to it. Thanks for the date.”