Page 35 of Brick’s Anchor

Brick.

The memories flood back immediately. Last night. The courtyard. The rain. His room. The talking that turned into kissing that turned into—

Heat floods my face. We had sex. Loud sex. Very loud sex if my throat is anything to go by. I can feel the soreness there from screaming his name.

And I don't regret it.

Not even a little bit.

His arm is heavy across my waist, holding me against him like even in our sleep he's keeping me safe. I can feel his breath against my neck, steady and deep. Morning light filters through the window. The rain stopped sometime during the night, leaving everything clean and bright.

I shift slightly, testing whether I can move without waking him. His arm tightens.

"Don't even think about it," his rough morning voice rumbles against my ear.

"I wasn't going anywhere."

"Good." He pulls me closer, if that's even possible. "What time is it?"

I glance at the clock on his nightstand. "Almost eight."

"Too early."

"The clubhouse is probably already awake."

"Don't care."

I smile against the pillow. "We can't stay in bed all day."

"Watch me."

There's a knock on the door. Sharp. Authoritative. We both freeze.

"Brick." It's a male voice I don't recognize. "Phoenix and Judge want to see you and Rosie. Both of you. Common room. Ten minutes."

Brick sighs heavily. "Copy that, Ranger."

Footsteps retreat down the hallway.

We lie there for a moment in silence.

"So," I say finally. "They know."

"They definitely know. You weren't exactly quiet."

"Me? You're the one who told me to scream your name."

"And you did. Very enthusiastically. Pretty sure Canvas heard you from his room and he's all the way at the other end of the hall."

I bury my face in the pillow. "Oh my God."

"Too late for embarrassment now." He rolls me over to face him. His dark eyes are amused but there's something else there too. Concern. "You okay? With all of this? With them knowing?"

Am I okay with it?

I run through a mental inventory. My body is sore in places I haven't been sore in years. I'm lying naked in a biker's bed in a clubhouse full of people who heard me getting fucked. I'm about to face the club president and vice president to explain why I slept with one of the members less than twenty-four hours after being rescued.

And somehow, I'm more okay than I've been in weeks.