Chapter 21 Skylar #2
I sit on the bed. Pike looks at me with sad eyes. Mouths, Help. If I didn’t know how much all of this upsets him, I wouldn’t intervene. I’d simply lie here and watch these two hot men hug.
“Pike and I were looking forward to some alone time, Jax.”
“Exactly,” Pike says. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
With conviction, I think, but Pike still hasn’t learned to stick up for himself. He just waits for Jax to leave. Which, of course, he doesn’t.
“Pike.” I lean back on my elbows seductively. “I need you.”
His head whips up.
I beckon him with a finger.
Pike puts his fist to his mouth. “Jax,” he says hoarsely, “get out of here, man.”
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” I say. It’s not even a lie. Lust has jammed any good sense I have left. “Don’t keep me waiting any longer.”
His eyes grow as glassy as Jax’s even though Pike’s had nothing to drink.
I’m the one intoxicating him. Me.
Pike extends his arm vaguely in Jax’s direction, finds his face, and pushes. “Go.”
I laugh to myself and flip onto my side for comfort. I steal all the pillows to give my brain a fighting chance against gravity, then pat the spot next to me.
Pike takes off his shoes and jacket. He slides in with the careful posture of someone trying to avoid pain. His crisp white shirt hugs his firm shoulders. I can’t tear my eyes from the exposed skin underneath his undone collar. I want my mouth there. My lipstick.
“That was cute.”
“Hmm?” Pike murmurs.
“Jax. He clearly loves you.”
“Oh. Yeah.” He clears his throat. “It’s hard to concentrate when you’re looking at me like that.”
He doesn’t move closer, though, clearly still determined to be a gentleman. Too bad I’m not much of a lady.
“Looking at you like what?”
“Like you want me for real,” he says helplessly. “You’ve looked at me that way all night. And that dance…this vibe between us…I need to know if it’s all in my head.”
My heart melts. Brandon Pike is nervous.
I understand his hesitation. After all the faking, it’s hard to believe we’ve reached this point. I scoot close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, but not so close that we’re touching. Stroking his face isn’t something we’ve agreed is allowed outside of pretending.
So much of my life is pretend. Pretending I’m fine at work when I feel like passing out. Pretending I’m not upset when Dr. Wharton bullies me about my weight. Pretending I don’t have pain around my parents. I’m always holding it together for the sake of people around me.
I don’t have to pretend around Pike. He never judges me or tells me to try yoga, juicing, or meditation. He just lets me be real. I want to be real with him now too.
“It’s not in your head,” I say. “I do want you.”
He gives a hard swallow, but his body remains tense, and I don’t understand why he’s not already kissing me.
I move back, but Pike reaches for me.
“Wait. I want—”
His words hang there, suspended between us. He shifts forward, and as our bodies slowly melt together, it’s clear I wasn’t reading him wrong. There’s nothing fake about this attraction.
His fingers trace up my bodysuit until he’s leaving shivers all along my exposed shoulder. “Are you sure?” He cups my cheek, his thumb smooth on my skin. “You want this? Me?”
My eyes fall shut because he feels so, so good against me. I curl my fists into his shirt. “More than I can articulate.”
“Tell me again it’s not fake.”
“I don’t think anything has felt more real.”
“Me neither,” he starts, but we run out of space between us before he can finish the words.
His mouth crashes onto mine like a wave, pulling me under with a force that knocks the breath out of my lungs. We’ve kissed before, but it’s always been for show. This, all of this, is only for us.
And soon, there’s only Pike. I drink in his sweet taste, breathe in his fresh scent, and sink into the warmth of his body. My fingers leave his shirt and dig into his short hair. An indulgent hum rolls through his chest. The sound ignites me.
I reach for his dress shirt. “Can I?”
He rucks it loose without hesitation and grips my jaw, the hold possessive as he kisses me. “Touch me, Skylar. I’m all yours.”
A moan escapes me before I can stop it, but he swallows it with his own. I undo his buttons and relieve him of his shirt, then slip my hands under the soft white T-shirt beneath it.
He sucks in a breath, muscles tightening under my touch. “And you?” His voice is rough, almost a growl. “Do you want my hands on you?”
“Not just your hands.”
“Fuck.”
While I’m busy exploring the warm planes of his abs and the sexy dip of his hips, his fingertips run up my back, somehow managing to press us closer. But we’re not close enough, not nearly enough for what I need. I entangle us further until my thigh is draped over his side.
He grabs my ass to hold me to him, a little rough. Yes. This. A whimper escapes me, and Pike breaks our kiss, leaving me panting.
“Is this okay? Your head. Your pain.”
I drag his mouth back to mine. “Sometimes sex helps the pain.” I’m lightheaded already and have to talk to him about all that, but we’ll get there.
There’s a part of me that says I should ask about his pain, too, but another part remembers how annoyed he was when other women made him overthink things. We shouldn’t overthink this.
Pike moves on top of me. His hips press me into the sheets perfectly, and I forget any questions. I can feel the ache between us, how long it’s been since we’ve found relief. I doubt it’ll take long for either of us to get there.
I slide my legs around his waist, locking him against me, and we groan together at the contact. But it’s still not enough. Not yet. I tilt my hips up, and he grinds against a perfect, devastating spot that makes my thighs tremble around him.
He drags hot kisses over the tender skin at the hollow of my throat. I ignore the pain on the other side of my neck, at the base of my skull. What Pike’s doing doesn’t take it away, but it certainly draws my attention further south.
I focus on the contrast of rough stubble and soft lips on my shoulder. On the dominant hand kneading my ass and the tender one cradling my face. On the drag of Pike’s tongue and the light scrape of his teeth.
I pull his T-shirt up, the fabric straining against his impressive biceps. “A little help, please.”
He obliges, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, every muscle contracting as he does.
The sight of him—broad and strong, a faint sheen of sweat already glistening on his skin—sends a sharp pang of want through me.
My hands roam over his chest, tracing the hard ridges beneath the smooth heat of his body. His heartbeat is wild under my palms.
“What’s your tattoo?” I trace the numerals with a finger.
“The two Olympics I won.”
It’s so simple. I rise to my knees and kiss my way up his stomach, watching his abs flex in response. He hisses softly through his teeth, the sound low and primal.
“Skylar,” he breathes.
I grin, and with a gentle push, he’s on his back and I’m on top. But instead of staying there, I work my way down. As I memorize his pecs and torso with my mouth, he runs his hands up my back, massaging my spine and shoulder blades. Every so often, he strokes my cheek.
I can’t believe he ever worried about making it good. Everything with Pike is good. How can he not know? I need to make him understand. To show him.
I trace my tongue along the cut lines of his hips and reach for his belt, but he pins my hand to the bed.
“Not yet.” His fingers thread through mine, giving me a reassuring squeeze, before he flips us over again. He stays raised on his veined forearms, keeping his weight off me. “We’ll get there. I want to savor this.”
I tug him down on top of me. I don’t mind being squished. I need to feel him there.
“Savor it, then,” I whisper.
I suck on his bottom lip until his eyes fall closed. I love seeing him like this, serene and enjoying himself. After all the attention Pike has given me this weekend, I want to give him attention now.
I work my hands lower, teasing his waistline, but I’ll slow it down if that’s what he wants. We can take our time learning each other. I sweep my fingers over his gorgeous ass and up the taut muscles of his back. If I’m honest with myself, this pace feels better for my head too.
He kisses me deeply, his hips beginning to move against mine. It draws a gasp from both of us as he hits exactly the right spot. I bite off a curse when he does it again.
“I want to put my mouth on you,” he begs. “Touch you all night.”
I’m only capable of a soft, needy groan.
His lips find the slope of my shoulder while his hand slips beneath the edge of my bodysuit to release the clasp.
He eases it down and lowers his mouth, his breath hot against my collarbone, before dipping even further, scattering kisses across the curve of my chest.
He lingers with his tongue, tracing the swell of my breast as though memorizing every inch.
Deft fingers brush along the edges of my bra, then slip behind my back to undo it.
His mouth closes around me, his tongue flicking lightly.
I dig my heels into the mattress and arch up.
A low grunt escapes him. He sucks gently, and the coarse drag of his stubble against my skin only makes me needier. I thread my fingers through his hair.
He pulls away with a soft growl, his eyes locking on to mine. “You’re so beautiful, Skylar.”
Something sharp flares in me at the intensity in his gaze.
And then his kisses are no longer measured or soft.
They’re greedier, messier. My breath falters with each scorching stroke of his thumb, each tantalizing pull of his mouth.
I knew it would be amazing with him, but he’s turning me into nothing but sensation and desire.
He teases pleasure out of me while his other hand slides down my thigh, tracing a path to the button of my pants. Everything in me tightens when he pops it open.
He dips his head and kisses his way down my stomach until his lips brush the hem of my panties. I lift my hips to meet him, silently begging for more, and he smirks against the fabric. A single finger traces along the edge, dragging out the wait like he’s enjoying every second of my desperation.
“You’re trembling for me, sweetheart.”
I inch my bodysuit down, just enough. “Don’t tease.”
He hums, smug, his mouth hovering over the waistband, letting his long exhales tickle my skin. “No?”
“Pike.” I reach for him, a helpless attempt for more that only makes him smirk harder.
I run my thumb over his bottom lip, craving the slick heat of his mouth since he won’t give it to me where I need it. He kisses the pad of my finger before sucking on it just like he did this afternoon. But this time, he doesn’t pull away.
He tastes me, prolonging it, savoring the way I squirm beneath him, empty and aching. If he’d just put that skilled tongue elsewhere, I’d be done for.
“Please,” I beg. The graze of his teeth makes my thighs clench. “Not tonight. I’ve wanted this for too long.”
“Okay, sweetheart.” He tugs at my pants, peeling them away. “I’ll give you what you need.” He places an open-mouthed kiss on the damp fabric still separating us, his throaty moan a low vibration I feel everywhere.
I press my face into the pillow, muffling the frayed cry that breaks free. Now that I’m getting what I want, it’s almost too much.
“No,” he says, “I want to hear what I do to you. Every last sound.”
It’s not a demand. It’s a claim. A promise that he’ll break me apart piece by piece. And I’m going to love every second of it.
A sudden bang rattles the door. Pike jolts up, covering me.
An unmistakable masculine voice, slightly muffled, calls out, “Pike? Are you still in there?”
He growls. “I’m going to murder him.”
“Ignore him.” I pepper his jawline with kisses.
More knocking. “Pike? We should go back to the party. Everyone’s waiting.”
Pike sighs into my shoulder. “I’ll put him in a cab. Make sure he gets out of here.”
A whine leaves my throat. The thought of stopping now sends an unexpected arrow straight through my heart.
“I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”
Whenever he used to call me sweetheart, it would often come with impatience, but lately, it’s always said with affection. Tonight, it’s whispered tenderly. Like I really am one.
Like I’m his.
I wrap my legs around him. It’s all that keeps me from saying it aloud. He rolls his hips again, a sweet torture that sends shocks through my entire body.
“Pike…you’re not making a good case here.”
I claim his broody mouth in a deep, desperate kiss. He grinds down more purposefully, and I rock back against him, the friction exquisite, and I think he’s going to stay. I think he’s going to give me everything that I need.
More banging.
“I know,” he says again, nuzzling my nose. “But I don’t want to think about anyone but you.”
He lifts himself off me and fumbles for his T-shirt, cane, and coat. He looks so thoroughly kissed it threatens to burst my heart. There’s a lipstick stain on his neck already, and satisfaction hums beneath my skin knowing I’m the one who put it there.
“Please,” he says. “Stay exactly, exactly like this. I’ll be right back.”
Jax says, “You came!”
Pike growls something that sounds distinctly like, “Actually, I didn’t, you little shit.”