Chapter 11
I like the way Saylor’s upper lip curls when she sleeps. She reminds me of those tiny, porcelain dolls my mom kept in a curio cabinet when I was a kid. Some of those dolls were angels. That’s what Saylor is. An angel.
What am I doing? I’m going to ruin her life if I keep this up.
How am I supposed to infiltrate my father’s criminal behavior, spare my brother, report it all to my mystery handler—who is very much not simply a parole officer—and be present for Saylor?
I can’t do it all. And I haven’t even factored in how any of this affects my mom, or Saylor’s mom.
My father’s web is sticky, it’s hooked on so many lives, and even those who have broken away retain the remnants of once being a part of his world.
But Saylor is going to feel the blowback regardless. Her mother is my dad’s right hand. And they have so much history. There are things Saylor doesn’t know, doesn’t need to know. I should give her up now while things are still new, before I get used to waking up with her in my bed.
But when she sleeps, she looks like an angel. And I like that.
Her phone buzzes on the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed, stirring her awake.
I should shut my eyes, pretend to still be sleeping, but instead, I take in the way she stretches her arms above her head until her fingertips brush against the padded headboard.
She rolls her head to the side as her eyes open, blinking slowly, her mouth curving into a faint but coy smile that I want to kiss raw.
“Good morning.” Her voice is gravely and soft.
“You’re getting a text message, I think,” I say, nodding across her body to her phone.
I brought Miguel’s cord in from the truck last night so she could charge her phone.
I was concerned that her mom was worried about her, but she never used it to call anyone.
And until now, it doesn’t seem as if anyone has been looking for her.
The crisp white sheet slips from her chest as she rolls to her side to pick up her phone, exposing her fucking perfect breasts, and her nipples are puckered into hard pebbles from the cold air of the room.
Fuck it.
I curve into her body, pressing my cock against her bare hip while my mouth covers her tit and suckles on the cherry bud tip.
“Rowan, how am I . . .” She swallows her words with a gasp as my tongue flicks against the tip of her nipple.
“Go ahead, take care of whoever . . . that is. I’ll just be over here, you know,” I smile against her breast and nip at her nipple one last time before urging her to roll on her side, so my cock has somewhere to go.
“It’s Caleb. He wants to know when you’re coming home.”
A low chuckle tickles my throat.
“I’ll call him later,” I say, snaking a hand under her arm so I can palm her breast.
“Did you tell him we were here together?” Her tone has a hint of panic. I’m a little surprised she cares.
“Are you worried about him finding out about us all of a sudden?” I question, distracting her by rolling her nipple between my finger and thumb, then sliding my other hand around her waist to slip between her legs.
“Rowan, don’t . . . wait a second.”
My hands freeze in their positions, and Saylor rolls on her side to face me. The puzzled expression denting her forehead makes my lungs suddenly feel heavy, so I scoot back a few inches to give her space.
“I’m sorry. I would never . . . I didn’t mean to presume that you wanted .
. .” Fuck, I don’t know how to speak suddenly.
I squeeze my eyes shut and bring my hand up to pinch the bridge of my nose.
“I’m not a creep. That’s what I’m trying to say.
And we don’t have to do anything else, if you didn’t like . . .”
Nope. Not coming out any better.
Saylor’s hand moves to my face, resting on my cheek, and I’m relieved to see a tiny smile tug at the corners of her mouth.
“Last night was . . . everything. You aren’t a creep. And what you were doing now, I want that too. I’m pretty sure you could feel that.” Her cheeks blush, and it’s fucking cute as hell. I did feel it. She’s wet for me.
“Just, there are some words I need to get out first. Okay?” Her thumb brushes along my jawline, and somehow, that small gesture settles the pounding in my chest. Lying with her is calming.
“Anything you need. I’ll keep my hands in check. My eyes, however—” I suck in my bottom lip as my gaze drops to her breasts. Her smooth skin is begging for my touch. It’s too perfect. It needs the roughness of my hands, my whiskers scraping against it, my fingers digging in, teeth biting.
“Eyes up here, buddy,” she jokes, nudging my chin upward.
“Sorry,” I whisper, and the soft laugh it draws from her releases my breath, but only temporarily. Within seconds, the worry lines are back.
“The other day, in your garage . . . did you know Caleb was going to show up?” Her eyes scan mine, tiny shifts in her pupils as she studies me, like she’s dissecting my tells and uncovering clues. I won’t lie to her, not about this. There are too many other things that I must keep buried.
“I had a feeling about it, yeah. He saw you in the passenger seat when we left the garage,” I admit.
Her mouth bunches to one side.
“Oh,” she says, her eyes dipping to my throat.
It’s my turn to lift her gaze to mine, so I run my knuckles along her jawline and coax her chin upward.
“Hey, that’s not why I let things progress the way they did, though. My desire for you has nothing to do with my hate for my brother.”
Her brow furrows.
“You hate him, huh?” Her eyes seem heavy, her gaze struggling to remain fixed on my eyes. I run my fingertips along her cheek.
“Only sometimes. Caleb and I . . . we’re complicated.
He’s blood, and I’ll always honor that, even if he wouldn’t.
But there are things between us, ugly shit, that’s festered for too long.
And I won’t lie to you about that, about Caleb.
He’s walking in my father’s footsteps, and I’ve spent my life trying to sidestep them.
Our paths are going in opposing directions.
Doesn’t mean that there’s not love deep down, under a lot of scars. I just don’t feel it very often.”
I haven’t felt it in months. Maybe years.
“So, this . . . being here . . .” Her gaze circles the room behind me, then finds its way back to my face. “Is this just part of a revenge plan? Is that why you suggested we stay for the night?”
Shit. I said I wouldn’t lie about this, about Caleb.
“No, but also . . . maybe. Not consciously, because believe me, Saylor, my body wanted you in this bed. I wanted you all to myself. But I can’t say the thought of it somehow torturing Caleb a little didn’t sway me into putting it out there.”
She draws in a deep breath through her nose, then nods.
“I want to be here with you. That’s the root of it all. That’s the truth, Saylor. I want to be here with you, right now, like this.” My hand trails slowly along the curve of her neck, and she drops her chin, following the path as her eyes flutter shut.
“I believe you,” she whispers, slowly rolling on her side so her back is to me again.
“I didn’t plan for this,” I say, tracing along the muscles on her shoulders and back with my fingers, tickling her gently until her skin is peppered with goosebumps.
“Neither did I,” she murmurs.
I kiss the center of her spine, closing my eyes as my nose grazes along the curve.
“What are we going to do?” I breathe out.
She’s quiet for several seconds, and I spend the time taking small tastes of her skin, running my fingertips down her side, and pulling the sheet down with my hand.
I flatten my palm against her hip, then inch it around her body until she shifts her leg just enough to give my hand access to the wetness building between her legs.
My fingers glide against her, and she moans.
“Tell me, Saylor. What are we going to do?” My words are a rough whisper against her back.
“Fuck,” she says, pushing her ass back just enough to press my hard cock between my stomach and her body.
My tip is wet with precum, and I paint her with it, gripping my shaft and guiding down her ass until it slides into her wet center, gliding against her swollen pussy.
I coat myself with her arousal. She arches her back slightly, just enough to give me access, and I guide my dick inside her pussy, sliding in slowly while she groans with the stretch to accommodate me.
Two sides of my brain are warring with one another.
There’s a part of me that is really starting to grow attached, to care in more ways than the obvious ones, at least for me.
Saylor and I have history, complicated history.
She’s Caleb’s ex. I’m pretty sure they were both each other’s first. And for much of her life, I’ve been a protector.
I’ve always cared about her, thought of her as a sister more than anything. Until now.
Now, there’s an animal inside of me that doesn’t know how to stop. The considerate half of my brain is screaming about the mistakes, warning me to be careful and to tread lightly. But the animal wants to feast. And I’ve never had a meal as delicious, as decadent, and special as Saylor Kelly.
I push into her with a hard thrust, holding her hips in place so she can take it. And she does.
“Yes!” Her scream is more than permission. It’s a pass for the monster, a loud approval that what we’re doing is more than just allowed, it’s wanted both ways. It’s mutual. She wants to be ruined. She wants me to ruin her.
And we’re both a little happy that Caleb doesn’t like the thoughts suddenly invading his jealous fucking mind.
My hands glide up her front, clutching her breasts as I pound into her from behind. Her ass pushes into me, meeting me for every thrust. My mouth falls onto her shoulder, and I suck in her skin, leaving a faint purple bruise behind, proof that I was there.
“I’m going to come soon, Saylor. You’re too fucking hot. I can’t hold out this time,” I say, rocking my hips faster. She reaches forward, bracing her body on the edge of the nightstand, keeping her from falling onto the floor from the impact.
“Fuck, I need to have you,” I say, rolling her body with mine so she’s lying flat on top of me, her back to my chest, my dick deep inside.
I lift her back, guiding her to a sitting position while my cock impales her. She works her legs underneath, so her weight is on her feet and calves, and she begins to bounce on me and moan wildly while my hands hold her hips steady to keep her from falling.
Rowan is no longer here. This is all the beast. And he is happy. And hungry. So . . . fucking . . . hungry.
“Your ass is so goddamn perfect. I’m going to fuck that next time, Saylor. I’m going to fuck every single inch of you. I’m going to ruin you.”
“Yes,” she whimpers, her hips beginning to quiver in my grip.
“Come for me. Come with me,” I command, driving my hips up as she slams down on me. She begins to sway her hips in fast circles when her orgasm hits, and I feel her pussy clench around me as my cock swells inside of her until I’m empty.
Our bodies are covered in a sheen of sweat.
I should get both of us into the shower.
We need to hit the road soon. I must convince my father of a lot of things, most importantly that I want to spend time with him, to learn.
But the beast is still present. My dick is still inside of her, and it feels too good to leave.
I roll our bodies to the side and hold her to me, finally pulling my cock out but keeping her in my arms.
“Rowan?” Her voice is a faint whisper, and I’m not sure if it’s because she’s satiated or having doubts.
“Yes, baby.” I kiss her shoulder blade.
“I think I want to be ruined.”
The beast smiles. And so do I.