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  Before her, I was just making my way through the routine of living and work. I had family that I loved, a job I took pride in, but I’d always been missing something. And I hadn’t realized what it was until she came along.

  “Hey, you,” she said and smiled at me wider.

  I pulled her in close, not giving a shit who watched or how they scolded me about the PDA. I cupped the back of her head and claimed her mouth. She melted into me instantly, her mouth opening on a soft gasp, her warm breath smelling sweet like candy. I was so damn hard, had been stiff as a fucking tire iron before I’d even gotten out of the truck. But now, feeling her so close to me, her body soft and warm, my dick was throbbing.

  And I knew she felt how hard I was.

  Mia reached up and gripped my biceps, and I held in my groan of satisfaction.

  “I missed you,” I said, not caring if it sounded sappy as fuck. I added more pressure to her mouth. I could have kissed her all damn day, could have taken her up against the truck, too. There were a few people standing across the street, older women who had shock in their eyes, their mouths slightly open.

  I grinned.

  They said something to each other, probably vocalizing their disgust over my display of affection for the woman I loved, but I didn’t care. I kissed Mia again and slid my hand down to her ass, cupping the lush mound. I liked marking what was mine any chance I got.

  She melted against me, and I was tempted to grind my cock into her soft belly, but I needed to show a little self-control. Hell, I’d do that when we were back at the house, when she was pressed up against the wall, naked and mine for the taking.

  Before I couldn’t stop myself I pulled away, but kissed her once more. I helped her into the truck, and headed out of town and toward her house. Every time I was with her I was juiced up, wanting her more than the day before. I glanced at her and my heart sped up. God, how had I lived without her in my life? It seemed so strange that I could feel something so powerful for someone I hadn’t known very long. But I knew without a doubt these feelings weren’t ending.

  They’d only grow stronger with each passing day.

  Once we got to her house I cut the engine, not about to just drop her off. Hell, if I could convince her to just stay with me I’d be a hell of a lot happier...if that was even possible.

  “Have you eaten yet?” she asked me in this sweet, soft voice.

  I shifted on the seat and shook my head, not trusting my voice. If I spoke right now I’d probably sound like a damn animal, all growly and shit.

  “I’ll make you dinner,” she said. God, I fell more in love with this woman every damn day.

  I pulled into her driveway, cut the engine, and just for a moment I sat there staring at her. She took my breath away; hell, she’d breathed life back into me.

  I didn’t know if I’d even make it to the front door without claiming her.

  She was out of the truck before I could climb out and open the door for her. I wanted to do all that shit, be a real gentleman, show her how special she was. But Mia was independent, not wanting to be doted on all the time. We butted heads about that, but I couldn’t help but feel pride that my woman was so strong.

  Once we were through the front door, I knew I couldn’t wait, that I had to have her right now, show her how good I could make her feel. I had her pressed up against the wall, worked her pants and panties off, and pushed them down to her feet until she kicked them aside.

  “Impatient much?” she asked with amusement in her voice. That was followed by a sigh of pleasure when I placed my hand between her thighs and touched her wet pussy. I removed my hand, licking her cream off my fingers as I stared into her eyes, and knowing that I’d come well before I was ready to.

  “I love you,” I said, wanting to say it over and over again, shout it at the top of my lungs. “I love you more than you’ll ever know.” I cupped the side of her neck, tilted her head to the side, and claimed her mouth. Right now was about pleasing her, about making her get off. I could slide my cock into her hot heat afterward, take my own pleasure when she was ready to give it to me.

  “I love you, too,” she said when I pulled away an inch. We breathed the same air, and I fucking loved it.

  The groan that spilled from me was deep, animalistic. I lifted her arms, and guided her to rest her palms flat on the wall behind her. I got down on my haunches, forced her legs apart, and gripped the big, soft mounds of her ass. The sound of her harsh breathing was music to my fucking ears. I lifted one of her legs up and placed it over my shoulder, staring at her pussy slit. She was wet for me, primed.

  And then I leaned in close and started eating her out, unable to control or stop myself.

  I hummed against her flesh. “I could eat you out all day and it would never be enough.” I closed my eyes and groaned. “I’ll never get enough of you, baby.” I didn’t stop myself from leaning forward, running my tongue through her slit, licking at her pussy juices, the arousal that was just for me. She was sweetly musky, a flavor I was already addicted to.

  “God, Noah.”

  I sucked on her clit for a second, needing her to come for me, to just let go. I curled my fingers into her flesh, leaned in close, and ran my tongue along her center. She gasped, but I didn’t stop. Not getting off was the hard part. I was like steel right now, my cock so fucking hard it ached.

  She was on the tips of her toes now, her nails making scratching noises on the wall, her breathing erratic. “God,” she whispered. “I’m... I’m going to come.”

  I licked her faster, sucked on her harder. I was starving for her, for her to get off for me.

  She came for me, her pussy tasting so fucking sweet.

  When she sagged against the wall, her climax lessening, I stood and pulled her in close. I loved that she rested on my chest, that she let me hold her up, knowing I’d always watch over her, take care of her.

  “What about you?” she asked in this sleepy voice.

  I stroked her hair. “I don’t need anything but having you close, letting me hold you. It’ll always be you and me, Mia. No matter what.” I lifted her hand, stared at her finger, and desperately wanted to put a ring there, to show her exactly how much I loved her. Soon, one day soon, I’d marry this woman, make her mine in all ways, and then she’d be the mother of my babies.

  Yeah, no way I was letting her go. She was meant to be in my life. It had just taken ten years for it to happen.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from ROUGH & TUMBLE by Rhenna Morgan.

  Rough & Tumble

  by Rhenna Morgan

  Chapter One

  Nothing like a New Year’s Eve drunk-sister-search-and-rescue to top off a chaos-laden twelve-hour workday. Vivienne dialed Shinedown’s newest release from full blast to almost nothing and whipped her Honda hybrid into a pay-by-the-hour lot in the heart of Dallas’s Deep Ellum. Five freaking weekends in a row Callie had pulled this crap, with way too many random SOS calls before her current streak.

  At least this place was in a decent part of town. Across the street, men and women milled outside a new bar styled like an old-fashioned pub called The Den, with patrons dressed in everything from T-shirts and faded jeans, to leather riding gear and motorcycle boots. Not one of them looked like they were calling the party quits anytime soon.

  Viv tucked her purse beneath the seat, stashed her key fob in her pocket, and strode into the humid January night. Her knockoff Jimmy Choos clicked against the aged blacktop, and cool fog misted her cheeks.

  Off to one side, an appreciative whistle sounded between low, masculine voices.

  She kept her head down, hustled through the dark double doors and into a cramped, black-walled foyer. A crazy-big bouncer with mocha skin and dreads leaned against the doorjamb between her and the main bar, his attention centered on a stunning brunette in a soft pink wifebeater, jean
s, and stilettos.

  The doors behind her clanged shut.

  Pushing to full height, the bouncer warily scanned Viv head to toe. Hard to blame the guy. Outside of health inspectors and liquor licensing agents, they probably didn’t get many suits in here, and she’d bet none of them showed in silk shirts.

  “ID,” he said.

  “I’m not here to stay. I just need to find someone.”

  He smirked and crossed his arms. “Can’t break the rules, momma. No ID, no party.”

  “I don’t want a party, I want to pick up my sister and then I’m out. She said she’d be up front. About my height, light brown, curly hair and three sheets to the wind?”

  “You must mean Callie,” the brunette said. “She was up here about an hour ago mumbling something about sissy, so I’m guessing you’re her.” She leaned into Scary Bouncer Dude’s formidable chest, grinned up at him, and stroked his biceps with an almost absentminded reverence. “May as well let her in. If you don’t, Trev will spend closing time hearing his waitresses bitch about cleaning up puke.”

  Too bad Viv didn’t have someone to bitch to about getting puke detail. Callie sure as heck never listened.

  Bouncer dude stared Viv down and slid his mammoth hand far enough south he palmed the brunette’s ass. He jerked his head toward the room beyond the opening. “Make it quick. You might be old enough, but the cops have been in three times tonight chomping to bust our balls on any write-up they can find.”

  Finally, something in her night that didn’t require extra time and trouble. Though if she’d been smart, she’d have grabbed her ID before she came in.

  “Smart move, chief.” The woman tagged him with a fast but none-too-innocent kiss, winked, and motioned for Viv to follow. “Come on. I’ll show you where she is.”

  An even better break. The last search and rescue had taken over thirty minutes in a techno dance bar. She’d finally found Callie passed out under a set of stairs not far from the main speakers, but the ringing in Viv’s ears had lasted for days. At least this time she’d have a tour guide and an extra pair of hands.

  The place was as eclectic on the inside as it was out. Rock and movie collectibles hung on exposed brick walls and made the place look like it’d been around for years even though it reeked of new. Every table was packed. Waitresses navigated overflowing trays between the bustling crowd, and Five Finger Death Punch vibrated loud enough to make conversation a challenge.

  The brunette smiled and semi-yelled over one shoulder, never breaking her hip-slinging stride. “Nice turnout for an opening week, yeah?”

  Well, that explained the new smell. “I don’t do crowds.” At least not this kind. Signing her dad’s Do Not Resuscitate after a barroom brawl had pretty much cured her of smoky, dark and wild. “It looks like a great place though.”

  The woman paused where the bar opened to a whole different area and scanned Viv’s outfit. “From the looks of things, you could use a crowd to loosen up.” She shrugged and motioned toward the rear of the room. “Corner booth. Last I saw your girl she was propped up between two airheads almost as hammered as she was. And don’t mind Ivan. The cops are only hounding the owner, not the customers. My name’s Lily if you need anything.” And then she was gone, sauntering off to a pack of women whooping it up at the opposite end of the club.

  So much for an extra set of hands. At least this part of the bar was less crowded, scattered sitting areas with every kind of mismatched chair and sofa you could think of making it a whole lot easier to case the place.

  She wove her way across the stained black concrete floors toward the randomly decorated booths along the back. Overhead, high-end mini sparkle lights cast the room in a muted, sexy glow. Great for ambience, but horrid for picking drunk sisters out of a crowd. Still, Viv loved the look. She’d try the same thing in her own place if it wouldn’t ruin the tasteful uptown vibe in her new townhouse. Funky might be fun, but it wouldn’t help with resale.

  Laughter and a choking cloud of smoke mushroomed out from the corner booth.

  The instant Viv reached the table, the chatter died. Three guys, two girls and the stench of Acapulco Red—but no sister. “You guys see Callie?”

  A lanky man with messy curly blond hair eyed her beneath thirty-pound eyelids and grinned, not even bothering to hide the still smoldering joint. “’Sup.”

  The redhead cozied next to him smacked him on the shoulder and glowered. “She’s after Callie, Mac. Not stopping in for a late-night chat.” She reached across the table and handed Viv an unpaid bar tab. “She headed to the bathroom about ten minutes ago, but be sure you take this with you. She stuck me with the bill last night.”

  Seventy-eight bucks. A light night for New Year’s Eve, which was a damn good thing considering Viv’s bank balance. She tucked the tab in her pocket. “Which way to the bathroom?”

  The girl pointed toward a dark corridor. “Down that hall and on your left.”

  Viv strode that direction, not bothering with any follow-up niceties. Odds were good they wouldn’t remember her in the morning, let alone five minutes from now.

  Inside the hallway, the steady drone of music and laughter plunged to background noise. Two scowling women pranced past her headed back into the bar. One glanced over her shoulder and shook her head at Viv. “May as well head to the one up front. Someone’s in that one and isn’t coming out anytime soon from the sound of things.”

  Well, shit. This was going to be fun. She wiggled the knob. “Callie?”

  God, she hoped it was her sister in there. Knowing her luck, she was interrupting a New Year’s booty call. Although, if that were the case, they were doing it wrong because it was way too quiet. She tried the knob again and knocked on the door. “Callie, it’s Viv. Open up.”

  Still no answer.

  Oh, to hell with it. She banged on the door and gave it the good old pissed-off-sister yell. “Callie, for the love of God, open the damned door! I want to go home.”

  A not so promising groan sounded from inside a second before the door marked Office at her right swung wide. A tall Adonis in jeans and a club T-shirt emblazoned with The Den’s edgy logo blocked the doorway, his sky blue eyes alert in a way that shouldn’t be possible past 1:00 a.m.

  Two men filled the space behind him, one shirtless with arms braced on the top of a desk, and another leaning close, studying the shirtless guy’s shoulder. No wait, he wasn’t studying it, he was stitching it, which explained the seriously bloody shirt on the floor.

  “Got more bathrooms up front. No need to break down the damned door.” Adonis Man ambled toward her, zigzagging his attention between her and the bathroom. “There a problem?”

  Dear God in heaven, now that the Adonis had moved out of the way, the shirtless guy was on full, mouthwatering display, and he was every book boyfriend and indecent fantasy rolled up into one. A wrestler’s body, not too big and not too lean, but one hundred percent solid. A huge tattoo covered his back, a gnarled and aged tree with a compass worked into the gothic design. And his ass. Oh hell, that ass was worth every torturous hour in front of her tonight. The only thing better than seeing it in seriously faded Levi’s would be seeing it naked.

  “Hey,” Adonis said. “You gonna ogle my brother all night, or tell me why you’re banging down one of my doors?”

  They were brothers? No way. Adonis was all...well, Adonis. The other guy was tall, dark and dirty.

  Fantasy Man peered over his injured shoulder. Shrewd, almost angry eyes lasered on her, just as dark as his near-black hair. A chunk of the inky locks had escaped his ponytail and fell over his forehead. His closely cropped beard gave him a sinister and deadly edge that probably kept most people at a distance, but his lips could lull half the women in Texas through hell if it meant they’d get a taste.

  Viv shook her head and coughed while her mind clambered its way up from Smuttville. “Um...” Her
heart thrummed to the point she thought her head would float off her shoulders, and her tongue was so dry it wouldn’t work right. “I think my sister’s passed out in there. I just want to get her home.”

  Adonis knocked on the door and gave the knob a much firmer twist than Viv had. “Zeke, toss me the keys off the desk.”

  Before either of the men could move, the lock on the door popped and the door creaked open a few inches. “Vivie?” Callie’s mascara-streaked face flashed a second before the door slipped shut again.

  Months of training kicked in and Viv lurched forward, easing open the door and slipping inside. “I’ve got it now. Give me a minute to get her cleaned up and gather her stuff.”

  Adonis blocked the door with his foot. The black, fancy cowboy boots probably cost more than a month’s mortgage payment, which seemed a shame considering it didn’t look like she’d be able to pay her next one. “You sure you don’t need help?”

  “Nope.” She snatched a few towels out of the dispenser and wetted them, keeping one eye on Callie where she semi-dozed against the wall. “We’ve done this before. I just need a few minutes and a clear path.”

  “All right. My name’s Trevor if you need me. You know where we are if you change your mind.” He eased his foot away, grinned and shook his head.

  “Oh!” Viv caught the door before it could close all the way and pulled the bar tab out of her pocket. “My sister ran up a tab. Could you hold this at the bar for me and let me pay it after I get her out to the car? I need to grab my purse first.”

  He backtracked, eyeballed Callie behind her, and crumpled the receipt. “I’d say you’ve already covered tonight.” He turned for the office. “We’ll call it even.”

  Fantasy Man was still locked in place and glaring over one shoulder, the power behind his gaze as potent as the crackle and hum after a nearby lightning strike.

  She ducked back into the bathroom and locked the door, her heart jackrabbiting right back up where it had been the first time he’d looked at her. She seriously needed to get a grip on her taste in men. Suits and education were a much safer choice. Manners and meaningful conversation. Not bloody T-shirts, smoky bars and panty-melting grins.