She needed to see him, though—to end things for good.
When she pulled into the parking lot of the Italian restaurant, Chad was already waiting for her. He crossed the gravel to meet her, a smile on his face. She stared at him. Yes, he was still just as handsome. Still her type.
Or was he?
He wasn’t that manly, come to think of it. Not nearly tall enough or rugged in all the ways she’d come to find attractive.
An ear-splitting roar filled the air, and she spun around to see a motorcycle gunning it past the restaurant.
And the expression on Tank’s face as he passed.
She watched him for a moment and then turned to Chad. Oh my God, this is so wrong.
“I’ve gotta go,” she rushed out.
He caught her arm as she started to walk away. “We haven’t had dinner. What’s going on?”
“I…We’ve been through this so many times, Chad. I think we both know it’s over. It hasn’t worked out in all these months, and we’re fighting for nothing. I hope you can move on with your life.”
With that, she hurried to her car and jumped behind the wheel. Her hands trembled as she turned the key and backed out. The look on Tank’s face…one of absolute devastation…
What have I done to him?
She stepped on the gas and headed straight for his house, hoping like crazy that she could catch him and explain.
Explain what?
She’d figure that out when she saw him.
Chapter Five
“Son of a bitch.” Tank slammed the refrigerator door. He didn’t want food anyway. Or drink.
He goddamn wanted Catarina—but the woman was too fucked up to realize it. Instead, she ran to the arms of that asshole motherfucking douchebag again and again. What did she see in him? Hell if Tank could ever figure it out.
He scraped his fingers through his hair and stared at his surroundings. He didn’t have much, but what he did he took care of. He worked hard for it. He’d work hard for her.
Pressing his lips into a tight line, he stomped to the couch and collapsed to it. He bent to remove his boots. He unknotted the laces and kicked the heavy things aside. Then he leaned forward with his head in his hands.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered again, this time with less heat. Resignation trickled over him, bowing his shoulders. He dragged in a deep breath, trying like hell not to recall the scent of her shampoo or see her beautiful face in his mind’s eye.
He could fucking fight for her, but what good would it do? He’d given her plenty of chances—either she felt something for him or didn’t. And she continually referred to him as her friend, which was as far from lover as possible.
Yeah, he was her friend, all right—a friend who wanted to strip her down, shove her against the wall and plunge his cock inside her.
And wake her up with breakfast in bed, even though he could only do eggs and toast.
Fuck. How many times could he let his heart get ripped out by seeing her with Chad? He couldn’t go on in this masochistic manner. If one of his brothers was in the same boat, he’d tell him to jump out and swim fast for shore. Why couldn’t he?
Because I love her. Goddammit, I do.
For a split second in the garage that night, he thought he saw a glint of emotion in her eyes. Something that had his heart sailing high. Now this. Again.
He shoved to his feet and started to take off his cut. His fingers barely skimmed the leather when a knock came at the door. Issuing a growl of irritation, he stalked across the room and whipped open the door.
His heart shattered into a million pieces at the sight of Catarina standing in front of him. Her eyes, big, wide and filled with sadness, tugged the last shred of control from him.
“Fuck this.” He grabbed her. Yanking her inside, he kicked the door shut behind them, cupped her face and kissed her.
If the hard slam of his mouth didn’t say all the things he wanted to and couldn’t, he didn’t know what else to do.
With her curly head cradled on his palm, he increased the pressure of his mouth over hers, sinking deeper and deeper until she parted on a gasp, and he thrust his tongue inside.
Sweet, sweet heaven. She tasted of everything he ever wanted in life and never knew how to get.
She parted her lips further, drawing a growl from the core of his chest. Suddenly, he realized she was letting him kiss her—and she was kissing him back.
He started to pull away to look into her eyes, but she looped her arms around his neck. When he tightened his hold on her, she hitched herself up and wrapped her thighs around his waist.
Jesus. Was he dreaming? He turned for the living room, seeking any horizontal surface to lay her down on and do all the dirty things he’d been battling since day one of knowing Catarina.
Using his fingers in her tangle of curls, he angled her head to sink his tongue deeper into her mouth. His cock throbbed against his fly, fully hard and ready to roll. They toppled to the couch. He stopped dead. Braced on his elbows, he ripped his mouth free to stare down at her.
“Cat—”
She cupped his jaw, her eyes filled with those lights he thought he saw in the garage that night. She searched his face. “Tank…Rob…I’m so damn sorry you saw me with him again. That look on your face—it gutted me. It’s still gutting me. Tell me you forgive me for not seeing what was in front of me this entire time. For hurting you.”
He couldn’t even swallow the lump formed in his throat. Even shaking his head didn’t clear it. “You’re serious.”
She scuffed her thumb over the beard growth on his cheek. “I’ve been blind. I…I want you.” The words came out as a breath but had all the force in the world. A hot and tight knot formed in his guts.
“Say it again, darlin’. I want to know if I’m hallucinating all this.”
A soft smile spread over her angelic face. “I…want…you.”
He forced out the breath he’d been holding and dropped his forehead to hers. “You ask for me, you get all of me. Not one night. Not even one week, month or year. Can you commit to that?”
Before she answered, he claimed her lips again. A hard stamp of his mouth and a swirl of his tongue that left him aching. A quiet moan escaped her lips, and he swallowed it on a groan of his own.
She dug her fingers into his shoulders to draw him back down over her. As soon as he felt her soft body against his harder one, he almost lost it.
She scrabbled at his vest to shove it off his shoulders. He nibbled on her lower lip, tasting each bit of her mouth that he wanted to all these long, torturous months. When she got his vest off and went for his shirt, he pulled away to stare at her.
“We gotta slow down. I’ve waited too long for this.”
Their gazes held. A sound broke from him as he lowered his mouth to hers again, more gently this time, plundering with all the slow, lazy flips of his tongue that he dreamed of during every long-ass, lonely night.
God, he couldn’t believe he was touching her. He molded his hand against her tiny waist and learned the shape of her in a brand-new way. As he walked his fingers up her ribs and cupped one breast, she moaned out. The throaty sound stole his damn control, but somehow, he clung to it and continued to take it slow.
He kissed her again, long and deep, and then dragged his lips down her delicate chin to her throat. When he inhaled her perfume and tasted her skin, he let his eyes slip closed. Dropping kisses in a line to the hollow of her throat where he’d watched her pulse flicker countless times and wanted to do this exact thing, he finally settled his palm over her breast.