Chapter 28 Skylar
Skylar
I close my eyes, giving myself ten seconds for this spell to break. Ten seconds to convince myself it’s just physical. But I’ve known it’s so much more than that for a while.
“You’re such a good man, Pike. I love talking to you on the phone, spending time with you in person, waking up next to you—even going to appointments with you.
I love our friendship and our conversations.
But I want more than that,” I say, trying to calm my racing heart.
“I want to make that gorgeous face smile and remind you what happiness feels like. I want to see how you look when you’re completely blissed out.
I want to touch you and taste you and make you moan. I want to feel you for days.”
Pike’s pupils blow wide. Amid my nerves, there’s also…longing. A deep, unquenchable longing that’s heightened to a breaking point.
“But that’s not all I want,” I continue. “I want coffee in bed, dinners together, visits like this while I’m on the road if you’re up for it. And I want texting at night, even if you go to bed at nine. I can adjust. You’ll just wake up to a bunch of messages the next day.”
Pike laughs, but it’s hoarse. His voice is low and intense when he replies. “In Whistler, you said I didn’t have to worry about you falling in love.”
“I thought you were implying it was a one-night stand, so I beat you to it. I didn’t know what to expect afterward, but I was hurt when you stopped, even though you had every right.
I said I wouldn’t fall in love to keep you from freaking out.
But the truth is, I could fall in love with you. And that terrifies me.”
“What are you scared of?”
“Fucking it up,” I whisper.
His gaze softens. “You couldn’t.”
“I’ve never had a good relationship. I’m scared if we put a label on it, it’ll stop.”
“What will?”
“The good stuff. We could lose what we’ve built.”
I could lose you.
“Come here,” he says, gesturing to his lap. “I can’t stand right now, but I can’t bear not holding you.”
I make my way to him on the bench, my body still trembling from my admission.
I take a seat on his left thigh, the one that wasn’t injured, worried that I’ll hurt him with all my weight.
But he draws me fully into his lap and slides his arms around my waist so I’m sitting sideways, the way I did when we first kissed in his wheelchair, my thighs resting across his lap and my legs dangling off the side.
“I love your arms,” I admit, curling into him more. He smells so good. I run a finger across the tempting skin below his rolled-up sleeve. “Not just your arms. Everything about you. I feel safe when you hold me.”
He lifts my chin, his smoky gaze heavy, but beneath it, there’s something achingly gentle. “I want to know all the things you hide from everyone else. I’m all in, Skylar.” He traces my lower lip with his soft thumb. A shock of pleasure courses through me. “I want to give this a shot.”
“I like what we have,” I whisper. “If we were together, really together, it could be even better, right?”
“It could be amazing.”
“Can we see how it goes? One day at a time?” It’s all I know how to offer.
“One day at a time sounds perfect.”
He brushes his lips against mine, just breathing me in, barely touching. The soft press of his mouth becomes a gentle torment, drawing out every drop of repressed tension until I think I’ll burst if we don’t kiss for real.
I lean in, winding my arms around his neck to pull him closer.
His mouth curves, catching my bottom lip between his teeth.
It’s a whisper of a kiss, all restraint and patience, except for his hold tightening just above my hips, betraying how much he wants to lose control.
He pulls back a fraction, long enough for me to feel the space between us, then finally claims my mouth.
He kisses me so well I feel it between my legs, and I go soft against him. He tastes like birthday cake and apologies and desire.
Pike’s hands shake. Just a little. Just enough for me to feel it where his fingertips brand my skin. But the second my lips part beneath his, he’s gone, sinking into the kiss like he’s drowning in it.
A low, insistent pull starts somewhere I can’t ignore, but there’s something else too. Something deeper. For the first time, there’s no hesitation. No second-guessing. I didn’t realize how much I needed that. This kiss feels different. Important.
He whispers one word against the hollow of my throat. “Stay.”
I abandoned any other plan the moment I knocked on his door.
I remove my jacket. Since I made him put on his shirt, it’s only fair that I take it back off.
Undoing those two damn buttons, I attempt to climb onto the bench, but the slatted wood jabs my kneecap.
He bands an arm around my waist, dragging me up his lap until my back is against his chest and I’m facing the shower.
He moves my hair aside and kisses my jaw. “You and me,” he says, “are going to be just fine. We’ll make our own rules.” His thick fingers spread over the back of my neck and sink into the soft waves at my nape.
“Don’t tug too hard,” I murmur, tensing slightly. Owen hated when I set boundaries because of pain, saying it ruined the spontaneity. But Pike is different, ten times the man Owen ever was, and he simply places a kiss on my sensitive hairline.
“Good. Tell me all those details.”
He massages my scalp gently, asking what I like until I fully relax. His lips barely graze my ear with each word, but I’m already fantasizing about them running all over my body.
“Pike?” I say. “I noticed your profile picture before you posted your poem.” It feels like falling, admitting that, but Pike’s grip around me is strong.
“Yeah?” Intrigue creeps into his husky voice.
“You know you’re attractive. You’ve heard it all before.”
“Not from you. I’m always wondering what you’re thinking and feeling, what’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours.”
“My squished brain,” I mumble, distracted. His mouth hovers near my neck, but his hand in my hair keeps me from closing the distance.
“It’s beautiful,” he insists. “Do you still want to touch and taste me?” His voice grows rough. “Feel me for days?”
My pulse quickens. “Desperately.”
“And do you want me to do those things to you?”
It’s hard to concentrate with his sculpted chest against my back, his stubble on my cheek, and his mouth so close to where I want it. “More than anything.”
“My breath alone just made you break out in goose bumps, sweetheart. Imagine what my fingers will do. What my tongue will do.”
He nips at my pulse point. I shift in his lap, trying to ease the ache inside me, and his arm tightens around my stomach.
“I’ve fantasized about making you feel good.” The tip of his tongue traces the outer shell of my ear. “Getting you out of your head so you don’t have to only think about your pain. You tell me if you want to stop or change anything.”
“Don’t stop,” I beg.
He skims kisses up my neck. “I won’t.” Muscles ripple against my back as he slips a hand under my crop top. He traces a slow path along the hem, nudging it higher. “You could never mess this up. You know how I know?”
My head falls back. I’m drunk on the drag of his lips across my skin.
“You’re incredible,” he says, moving the fabric out of his way completely. “Smart. Driven. Generous. Stubborn and sexy as hell. And everything I want.”
His thumb glides along my jaw, angling my head back up. The flecks of gold in his eyes turn molten. “And I’m obsessed with this sassy mouth.”
He kisses me roughly and cups my breasts. His growl of approval spills into my mouth, and I clutch his thigh, my body pulling tight under every flick and squeeze.
“Pike…”
“I know.” He takes my earlobe between his teeth, sucking and nibbling just right. “I feel it too.”
“I need you.”
“How much?”
I shiver. “So much I’d drop to my knees right here in the shower.”
“Soon,” he promises. “You’ll have all of me soon.” He pops the button on my pants and lowers the zipper. “No interruptions this time.”
I gasp as the pads of his fingers brush over me with teasingly slow circles that set my skin on fire.
His presence consumes me completely. I love being trapped in his strong arms, left with no choice but to receive whatever he’s giving me.
He takes his time, touching me leisurely like he could do this forever.
“Please.” I squirm in his lap, desperate for more. More friction, more pressure—more.
“So impatient,” he murmurs. But he doesn’t waver, just keeps working me over at the same agonizing pace. Each measured stroke toys with the edge of my control. “I think I like you like this,” he says. “Worked up. Needy. Just waiting for me to push you further.”
As if to prove his point, he gives my nipple a firm tug between his fingers, the sharp pull sending a zing straight down to my core. I slide my hand down and grip him over his pants, squeezing just enough to make him feel it. His movements momentarily falter. A tortured groan slips from his mouth.
“Skylar,” he warns, but he’s so hard already, so ready for me, that I can’t not touch him.
This man is mine now, only mine, and the thought of what’s still to come makes a dizzy flash of color burst behind my eyes. I tighten my grip, wanting to see how much I can push him.
That’s when Pike finally picks up the pace.
He hooks his ankles around mine and spreads me wide for better access, giving me exactly what I need.
I press my face into his neck to stifle my moans, but he tilts my chin up to take my mouth in a blistering kiss.
My mind goes hazy. Every nerve ending zeroes in on where he’s touching me.
His heady, wintery scent surrounds me as I spiral higher, higher, climbing toward something vast and uncontrollable, until it peaks with wrenching intensity.
I shatter in his arms, raw and undone. He works me through every last wave with sweet, filthy affirmations until I collapse against him, my body weightless as I come down from the high. A glorious current pulses beneath my skin.
“I could get used to you like this,” he murmurs, voice honeyed. “Wrecked and resting right where you belong.”
Fuck, I am so gone for him.
“Mind if we move to the bed?” he asks after a while. “My back hurts, and you craning your neck can’t be good for your head either.”
But when we attempt to stand, neither of us wants to pull away. He moves with me, and we go slow, mouths fused together. Our hands grow clumsy. My top and pants fall to the floor.
When the backs of his knees collide with the mattress, I hesitate. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
He sits at the foot of the bed and pulls me between his legs. “We’re not going to do anything that hurts me. Or you.”
I move over him, my knees settling around his hips.
He cups my ass and molds me to him. Our kisses turn sloppy, lips missing their marks, but neither of us cares as long as we’re connected.
I explore the curve of his jaw and lose myself in his sculpted shoulders and chest. Soon he’s bare beneath me save for his boxer briefs, his mouth hot and open over my breasts.
I’m desperate for him. I press closer, my nails biting into his shoulders, and roll my hips until he’s surging up to meet me.
“Fuck.” He forces the word out through clenched teeth, his grip tightening.
My body thrums with a deep ache I can no longer ignore. I slide off him, down to the floor and onto my knees. A trail of hair disappears under the waistband of his boxers, where he’s straining against the fabric. My mouth waters as I reach for him.
Pike’s next inhale is sharp, his exhale unsteady, but he tugs me back up. “It’s your birthday, Skylar, not mine.”
“But you’ve already…” I trail off at the hunger in his eyes.
“Every time I woke up with my head in your lap, I died a little knowing I couldn’t strip off your clothes and have breakfast in bed.”
My chest flushes with excitement. “But it’s been a long day. Your knees must hurt.”
“They do,” he says. “But my mouth doesn’t. Get on the bed, sweetheart. Now.”