That was the fucking truth. With Breezy, it had always been all about Steele, because he was a selfish bastard and he took everything she gave him and more. The worst of it was, he would always need her to be all about him. That was never going to go away for him. He needed her adoration as much as he needed air to breathe. He didn’t deserve it, but he’d try. For her, he’d try.
“You tell me when you want or need something, baby. I might not notice …”
She threw her head back, exposing the clean line of her throat. “You’ll always notice, honey. You see everything.”
He did, but now he vowed to double his efforts to watch closely. To make certain she never had to do one fucking thing she didn’t want to do. He knew her favorite color, not because she’d told him but because he’d observed. He knew what kind of towels she liked, and the house was stocked with them. He’d gotten everything with Breezy in mind. And she wasn’t going to do the cleaning. Not ever again. Not in their house and not in the clubhouse.
He noticed everything about her, that was the truth. She didn’t like loud noises, the kind that startled her. She liked to be aware of anything coming at her. He’d chosen the house because he knew he was going to find her. He had Code on it already, but once his club was settled, he had planned on getting on his bike and tracking her down. The house, with its wide-open spaces, high ceilings and state-of-the-art security system was just for her.
Every stick of furniture had been chosen with her in mind. The dishes and cutlery. He knew what she liked almost better than she did. His woman didn’t know how to be pampered—not the way she deserved—and that was about to change. Looking down into her upturned face, his heart nearly exploded.
He’d always faced reality and the many flaws he had, but he’d learned even more about himself in the time she was gone. He had always thought himself strong, a rock the others could lean on, but without Breezy, he was crumbling inside. Breezy. So young and so mature. So willing to give others whatever it was they needed. Who protected her? She’d been out there on her own without any protection and that was on him. On his shoulders. He should have found a different way.
He’d panicked once he’d learned her age—and once he’d known he was really in love with her. He didn’t know the first thing about a relationship and other than Savage and Reaper, he figured he was the most fucked-up human being in the world. He’d said terrible things—things he could never take back.
He wanted to kiss her, but kissing would break the spell he’d woven for her. That mesmerizing sexual web he’d caught her in.
“Stop holding out on me,” she whispered, the smile fading. “I’ve waited as many years as you for this. It makes me hot, but I’m going to have a heart attack if you don’t let me have what I want.”
“Try asking nice.” That was another thing he got off on. He liked to hear her say over and over to him that she wanted him. Or needed him. He liked her to ask him. Beg him. Plead with him. Breezy, being Breezy, only took so much and then she made her own demands.
“I need your cock in my mouth, Steele.” She wasn’t being a parrot. She wasn’t snowing him. She meant it. She loved sucking him off, blowing him big. She enjoyed it and she had made an art of it. “Please, honey.”
“What do you like most?”
“The way you taste. The way your cock stretches my lips and fills my mouth. The heat of it too. The way your face looks when I swallow you down. I love that look on your face.”
Just the matter-of-fact way she stated what she liked made his blood rush hotter. He loved the look on hers. Greed. Hunger. Adoration. His fist continued the slide, but it wasn’t so slow now. He could get off just talking about her blowing him. It was a far cry from the desperation he’d tried with other women.
“I don’t know. I might just jack off and coat your breasts. I like the way I drip down your body. You could lie out in the sun and see if it