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When she stopped shaking, he repositioned them so he could play with her clit while hitting her from behind. In response to the additional attention, Delphi licked his fingers that he still held over her mouth. It was worth the agony of self-restraint when he felt her shudder beneath his ministrations. He could hold out for one more.Maybe.
When she started sucking two of his fingers at the same time, Brewer swore under his breath. “You’re killing me, Delphi.”
She looked back and smirked. “Good,” she mumbled between his fingers.
“Fuck it.” Shaking his head, he turned and picked her up, pushing her back against the sliding glass door. She wrapped her legs around him, welcoming his jagged thrusts.
Catching her lips under his, Brewer swallowed her cry. Hearing her moan his name was the most erotic thing she’d done thus far. Just as he started to lose control, another orgasm crashed into her, encouraging him to let go. He growled into the nape of her neck, filling the condom to the brim.
Her chest heaved against him, her breath falling across his exposed skin. It warred with the cold breeze, the perfect combination of temperatures.
Meeting her gaze, he searched her blue eyes. They were still laced with desire but there was something else hidden in their beautiful depths. He gently kissed her, never once dropping her gaze. “Did I earn my breakfast?”
She giggled and nodded. “Yeah, I think you did.” She brushed her hands over his beard and tugged slightly. “You make breakfast, I’ll give you dessert.”
The familiar longing filled her eyes once more, and he could’ve come again at the sight. “Deal.”
Swatting her ass playfully, Brewer felt his heart lighten. He wanted to fuck this woman until the day he died.
CHAPTER22
DELPHI
A knockon the apartment door popped the sex bubble they’d been living in since returning to her place. Brewer patted her knee and got off the couch while she stayed cozied underneath a Sherpa blanket with Fiona purring underneath it. A Macha biker stood in the doorway. Rubble, by the looks of the tall, bald man.
Delphi slouched deeper into the cushion. If she wanted to hear what they said, she’d need dog ears. They spoke in low tones, Brewer’s body blocking any chance of reading Rubble’s lips.
Muting the television, she craned her neck toward them but frowned when no sounds reached her. Thankfully, it was the slowest day of the week, and she’d be able to catch up on paperwork and orders before the bistro opened.
I need to take a shower first.She stretched her legs. Her entire body was sore after time spent with Brewer.Maybe a long soak would be better.
Brewer turned to her, his lips in a thin line.
Her stomach dropped. “What’s wrong?”
“I gotta go talk to Reaper.” He crouched down beside the couch. “You still want me to watch over you?”
“Of course.”
He offered her a small smile. “Good. I already updated Rubble, but I have to talk with Prez to make sure we’re on the same page. I’m guessing they’ll want a guy outside until Shovelhead shows up.”
“Okay, sure. That makes sense.” She looked around him to Rubble. “Will he stay until you come back?”
“Rubble’s coming with me.” He smoothed a hand over his beard. “But don’t worry, I personally put the fear of my wrath in the prospect stationed on the corner if he fucks up.”
Delphi nodded, unsure what else to do. Brewer was a mere cog in Macha’s machine. He didn’t run the club, so getting approval was a necessity.
“But I’ll be back.” He kissed her forehead. “Oh, and for the love of the goddess, lock the deadbolt. Anybody can bust down a door if they try hard enough.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Standing up, she walked around the couch and into the kitchen. The first cup of coffee wasn’t hitting her yet. She poured a second cup and yawned. “I’ll be fine for an hour or so.”
“Lock it.” Moving to the front door, he turned the lock for good measure before closing it behind them.
Sighing, Delphi sipped the coffee and made her way to the bathroom. She turned on the water, testing it with her fingers. Once it was properly warm, she set the coffee cup on the counter and went in search of an outfit for the day.
In need of tunes, she found a playlist on her phone and synced it to the Bluetooth speaker in the bathroom. Soon Keith Urban was crooning beautifully, thanks to the bathroom’s acoustics. Stripping as she walked to the closet, she tossed her clothes into the laundry hamper. Neatly folded piles of leggings beckoned to her. Spring in Snowshoe was unpredictable.
