What I Need

by J. Daniels

  “Who’s in there?” Nolan jolts the knob. “I can hear you . . .”

  Riley whips her head around to look at me. Her eyes are filled with alarm.

  “Jesus,” I mumble. “Whatever. Easy solution—he’s a kid.” I take the three steps to get to the door, ignoring Riley’s quiet protests and the tugging she does on my arm. The second I twist the lock, Nolan pushes the door open and stumbles inside the bedroom.

  “Hey.” He looks between Riley and me, blinking in confusion. “What are you guys doing in here?”

  Riley squeaks.

  Christ. Thank God I’m not leaving this plan up to her. She’d probably give us up immediately after forcing me under the bed.

  I dig my wallet out of my pocket and pull out a bill. Then I bend down, getting eye level with Nolan. “Do you like money, kid?” I ask him.

  His eyes brighten. He licks his lips. “Yes. I like money.”

  “Yeah? Have you ever seen a hundred dollar bill before?” I hold up the bill in front of his face.

  “CJ,” Riley whisper scolds behind me.

  I ignore her. In my opinion, this is the only option that doesn’t lead to me feeling like a giant fucking creep.

  Nolan stares at the bill like he’s just discovered buried treasure. Big, gray eyes going round. Lips parting in wonder. “Can I hold it?”

  “Yeah, you can hold it. It’s yours,” I tell him, handing over the bill.

  He blinks at me. “It is?” He smiles big when I nod. “Aw, cool! I’m gonna put it in my piggy bank so I can save up for my sword!”

  Nolan pivots around and hurries over to his nightstand. He grabs his piggy bank and sits on the bed with it, turning it over and dumping out the coins through the slot. Seeing that, I grab Riley’s hand and tug her out of the room.

  “I can’t believe you just did that,” she whispers. “You aren’t worried he’ll say something about seeing us?”

  “No.”

  “Why not? I’m worried.”

  “I just gave a six-year-old more money than he’s ever seen in his entire life. Did you see his face? He’s probably already forgotten he caught us.”

  Riley blinks, realizing how fucking awesome this plan is. Then she giggles and leans into me as we walk down the stairs together. “That was so close,” she says, voice racing again.

  I kiss the top of her head, smelling her sweet shampoo. When we step off the stairs, I pull Riley into my arms and hold her in the entryway, prolonging this.

  I don’t want to go back outside. I don’t want to pretend anymore. I want to talk about what we just did—what it means to her and what I know it means to me.

  “Riley,” I murmur into her hair, leaning away. She rubs my back. “I—”

  “What the hell are you two doing?”

  Riley’s body stiffens in my arms. She tries to pull away. I don’t let her.

  Turning my head, I lock eyes with Reed.

  REED.

  My stomach drops out. Oh, God. I’m going to throw up all over CJ.

  I know how this looks—CJ’s arms around me and my hands moving over his back. The sweet look on his face as he prepares to tell me something important, something big. Hearing the tone in Reed’s voice, even before I turn my head and see his hard eyes staring back, I know exactly how this looks.

  I also know from the way CJ is keeping hold of me as I try and wiggle away that he is done with our secret. He’s ready. He’s going to tell Reed.

  But I’m not done with it. I’m not ready. The way Reed is looking at us and that sharp, assuming pitch in his voice, I know how he’s going to react. Reed sounds big-brother angry. Disapproving. Nobody’s good enough. Fuck you, CJ. Get your hands off my sister.

  I can already hear his response in my ears and feel it saddening my heart, so I do what I have to do. For CJ. For us.

  The words spill out of my mouth like water rushing through a broken dam. Once I start, I can’t stop.

  “I was sad about Richard,” I say. My voice jumps with anxiousness. “You know, just thinking about what all had happened between us—him using drugs and not knowing he was using them, it just got to me. I was overwhelmed. CJ saw me and was just offering comfort.”

  My lie tastes sour and sounds so fucking ugly. I don’t like it. I don’t want to utter any name except CJ’s while I’m standing in his arms, especially not that name, never again, but what can I do? I need to protect us. I need to give this more time. And even though I hate what I say and the way CJ’s arms grow tighter around me and then fall away all too quickly, it works.

  My lie works.

  Reed should’ve made us, called me out and forced a confession, but instead he looks understanding after I speak and appreciative of CJ for what he’s giving me. Relief floods me and sags my shoulders. I see this as a good sign.

  CJ’s arms had been around me and Reed wasn’t telling him to fuck off while throwing a punch. We were making progress.

  Reed doesn’t say much besides what he always has to say about Richard.

  “That guy was a prick. You’re better off,” he reminds me.

  CJ doesn’t say anything.

  We all go back out onto the deck, and I feel relieved and a little sick to my stomach. Looking at CJ, watching him the rest of the night, I know he is frustrated with this and with me. I can see it. His gaze is cold and refuses to linger. And when he smiles at something Mia says, his jaw stays clenched.

  I think hearing me turn down Grayson helps.

  My response is polite and loud enough CJ’s head swivels around and our eyes meet. I do that on purpose. I want CJ knowing that I’m his, that I belong to him, heart and body, and façade aside, I won’t give out my number and pretend I don’t. I would never take it that far.

  He seems more relaxed after hearing me. And on the drive home, in the privacy of his truck where we never have to pretend, CJ lets me know we’re okay. He throws his arm around me when I burrow closer and presses his lips to my hair. I smile and rub his thigh.

  I want us to talk. Not about my lie or why I needed to say it—I knew my reasoning was clear, and I honestly don’t want to bring it up—but about what had happened in that bedroom. I want to know the big, important thing CJ wanted to tell me before we got interrupted.

  “I’m on birth control,” I reveal over the quiet tune playing on the radio. I figure this is a good lead in.

  CJ reaches in front of me to shift gears, then he throws his arm over my shoulder again and kisses my temple. “I never had a girl I wanted to do that with before,” he says, letting me know that was his first time going without a condom. “I’m glad it was you, babe. And that’s something I want to keep doing with you, if you’re wanting that with me.”

  Oh, my God. Seriously? I feel so happy hearing that, I think my heart is going to explode and kill me right here. And I would die with the biggest smile on my face. CJ Tully gave me that experience, and wants to continue giving me that experience. Me.

  I hold his hand that is hanging off my shoulder and grin into his neck. As happy as I am, I have a feeling that wasn’t the big, important thing he had wanted to share with me. Something in my gut has me wondering, but there is nothing else that needs to be said. Not now. This moment with CJ is already incredible. It couldn't get any better. So I let it go and kiss him long and lazy at the next red light. We don’t even stop when the car behind us blows its horn.

  “Fuck them,” he growls against my mouth. I laugh inside our kiss. I feel giddy.

  It’s been two days since the dinner at Ben and Mia’s. Two days of CJ being CJ with me—sweet, warm, funny. And so damn charming I’m certain he could teach a class on it. CJ isn’t acting any different than he typically acts with me, but I’m still waiting . . .

  I know he wanted to tell me something that had nothing to do with me tossing out our condom stash.

  Closing my eyes under the shower spray, I let the warm water rush down my front. I left CJ in the other bedroom to finish his workout so I could get ready for class, b
ut only after I lingered to watch him knock out a rapid round of pushups.

  I can still hear those soft little grunts he makes. Sex grunts. Yum.

  A shuffling sound turns my head. I swipe my hand across the condensation building on the glass and watch CJ step out of his shorts.

  “No bath today?” I ask when the door opens and he moves inside the shower to join me.

  His auburn hair is messy and his face is red from exertion. My eyes linger on his long body. His muscled torso and half hard cock.

  God . . . Yum is right.

  He chuckles darkly. CJ’s told me before; he likes that awestruck look on my face when I stare at his body.

  Makes me feel like a fucking king the way you look at me, darlin’.

  I lick the water off my lips, staring at his thick shaft, veined and long. The crowned head.

  He should feel like a king. He could totally rule empires with that.

  “Hungry?” he asks, moving closer.

  My eyes snap up to meet his as my back is pressed against the cold tile, and I nod like one of those bobble head dolls that’s just been flicked.

  I’m always horny. It’s like I’ve turned into some sort of nymphomaniac. I’ve never wanted sex this much before.

  CJ palms my breast and squeezes it. I groan.

  “I’m sweaty,” he murmurs, bending low to kiss me.

  “I like you sweaty.” I smile when I feel his lips curl. “But, I don’t know if showers are a good idea yet. Should you be standing in here? Isn’t it a lot of pressure without your boot on?”

  Since his incision is completely healed and doesn’t need to be wrapped anymore, CJ can get his ankle wet. We do baths together now. It’s fun. I think we get more water out of the tub than in it.

  CJ drags his thumb across my nipple, making me shudder. “I wanna fuck. Can we not talk about my leg?” he asks.

  He never wants to talk about his leg.

  “I can’t just shut off the nurse part of me. If I think there’s a chance of you hurting yourself more, I’m going to say something.” I gasp when he pinches my nipple. Holy crap, that feels good. Stay focused, Riley. “CJ . . .”

  With a grunt, he pulls his hand away, pivots and steps back, sitting down on the tiled seat I keep my shampoos and soaps on.

  “Better?” he asks.

  I stare at his cock, sticking straight up like a rod between his legs. My chest rises with a breath. I lick my lips.

  “You look fucking good,” he says, leisurely stroking himself. “Come on, darlin’. Come sit down.”

  My stomach pinches with excitement.

  He wants me to sit on his dick. And he’s calling me darlin’ in that honey smooth voice that makes my toes curl.

  This is why I’m addicted to sex now—CJ Tully is the world’s dirtiest charmer.

  The water pelts the top of my head as I move under the stream. I grab hold of CJ’s thick shoulders and straddle his lap. “So this is what this seat is for, huh?”

  “Mm.” He cocks his brow, smirking, grabs hold of my hips and eases me closer. He drops his head between my breasts. “I love this,” he says.

  “What?” I giggle. “Putting your face in my boobs?”

  I know he loves that. He does it all the time. He has long, drawn out conversations with them.

  How was your day?

  I know I know. I told her to burn these stupid torture devices.

  Here. Let me rub it all better.

  CJ doesn’t answer me. He shifts my hips instead, forcing the head of his cock to slip between my legs.

  I moan, neck arching and eyes closed. I’ll never get over how good he feels.

  “This,” he finally says. He lowers my body, easing me onto him and stretching me wider and wider. His mouth is on my neck. “Not having to get a condom and just pushing inside you. Feeling how tight you grip me. How wet you are. So fucking wet, Riley. Fuck, I can feel you . . .”

  I drop my head and thread my fingers through his hair. “I love it too,” I tell him.

  He lifts his head and we kiss. I taste the sweat on his skin when I move my mouth along his jaw, open and sucking. I press my lips to his ear.

  “Cannon,” I moan.

  CJ groans hearing me say his name. He always does. Then he grips my ass with both hands and bounces me in his lap.

  Our skin is slippery and warm. The sound of our thighs slapping together resonates in the shower. CJ lifts and lowers me. He’s doing all the work and I’m taking, taking, taking. Scraping my nails along his scalp and gasping in his ear.

  “Yes,” I pant. “CJ, please . . .”

  “You always beg me to let you come. Do you think I won't?” He leans back to look at me, resting his head against the wall and rocking me in his lap. His wild eyes are electric. Dark blue and stormy. He parts his lips with a grunt.

  Holy shit, he looks good.

  I squeeze his neck, forcing my eyes to stay open when all I want to do is close them and lose my mind.

  “I just . . . I feel like I need this,” I reply. “When you touch me and . . .” I moan when his hand moves over my ass. “When you're inside me like this, it's so much more than just sex. It's bigger. That first night at the wedding, I felt it. Something . . . mm . . .” I shake my head, searching for the words while breathing heavier. His finger slips between my cheeks and rubs around and around and around. I gasp. “God, I don't know, it's just, it's always felt different. Awesome.”

  “Awesome?” he murmurs, mouth twitching.

  “I can't think when you do that . . .”

  CJ’s finger presses against my ass and slips inside. “How about now, darlin’? Is this better?”

  I groan and sink down, forcing his finger deeper. My head hits his shoulder. “I love that,” I whimper.

  “I know you do,” he says against my ear, wiggling his digit inside me. “You come like crazy when I play with your ass.”

  “Stop.”

  My protest is halfhearted, and CJ knows as well as I do that I really don’t mean it. My eyes are closed now and I’m hiding my blushing face in his neck, but holy crap, I’m wet. I can’t deny how much I want this.

  I start grinding in his lap, moving in slow, lazy circles. Fucking his finger as I ride his cock. “Oh, God,” I breathe. I’m so full.

  “I’d never deny you, Riley,” CJ tells me, lips against my ear as he helps me move. “I couldn’t. I need this too.”

  “Why? Because it means more?”

  “Yeah,” he rasps, meeting my eyes when I lift my head.

  I grab his face. I want to ask what more means to him. If it’s the same as what it means to me. If this feels different because it’s love. But instead I relish the feel of CJ and that heavy look in his eyes. The look he’s only ever given me, only me. I want to believe that so badly, because I know I’ve never looked at anyone else like this before.

  We stare at each other, mouths close and open. We moan together. We move together. My pleasure doesn’t feel like it’s just my own anymore. It’s ours.

  One body. One heartbeat. One irresistible desire.

  CJ squeezes my breast and sucks on my nipple. He whispers against my slippery flesh, “Fuck, baby” and “I want to feel you come.”

  I make a choking sound low in my throat as that sweet heat burns between my hips and up my spine. CJ is fucking my ass with his finger now and thrusting his hips. I can’t move. I hold onto his neck, arch my back, and yes, yes, yes.

  “CJ,” I moan, shaking violently. My pussy growing tighter and tighter and . . . “Oh, God . . . Oh, my God.”

  He grunts, fucking me harder until he’s pumping into me, cursing and spilling his release. I feel it wet and sticky on my thighs—our pleasure. It’s exquisite.

  CJ breathes heavily into my neck. His finger slips out of my ass, and I groan at the loss. He chuckles. “Miss me there already?”

  Yes, I don't say. I grab his face and rub it between my breasts. When he growls like a wild animal and takes over, I squeal in delight.
/>   We laugh and stand together under the water.

  While I towel off and smear lotion on my body, CJ passes on my suggestion of a bath and finishes up in the shower. Still floating around on my post-sex high, I let it go, moving into the bedroom. I need to get ready.

  Bra and panties on and shorts tossed on the bed (next to CJ's boot I set out for him), I pull on my shirt.

  Without CJ’s all-consuming stare and him moving inside me, I can think again. My mind immediately going to that big, important thing. Why isn’t he saying it?

  “What were you going to tell me the other day?” I ask when he exits the bathroom, white fluffy towel around his waist and chest dripping wet. I swallow and watch a bead of water trail between his pecs as he moves toward me.

  Damn. He really should find a job that requires him to be in nothing but a bath towel.

  “What was I going to tell you when?” CJ asks, running his hand over his hair. “You gotta give me more than the other day, babe. Narrow it down.” He rummages through the drawers, shifting my clothes to get to his and making me smile. I’ve basically taken over his dresser. He grabs a pair of shorts, boxers, and a t-shirt and moves to the other side of the bed.

  “At Ben and Mia’s. After we . . . you know.”

  CJ tugs on his boxers and lifts his head. He smirks. “Oh. That.”

  “Yes. That. What were you going to say?”

  “You’re not ready for that,” he states.

  My head tilts. “Um, sorry? What do you mean?”

  I’m not ready?

  “Just what I said. You’re not ready.”

  I glare at CJ as he pulls on a pair of running shorts. What the . . .”You were going to tell me the other day,” I remind him.

  “I know I was.”

  “Well . . . how come you won't tell me now?”

  “`Cause you’re not ready now.”

  “But I was ready before . . .”

  CJ shrugs. He swipes his shirt off the bed and smiles at me as he pushes his arms through the sleeves. He smiles bigger when my eyes narrow.

  “Stop smiling,” I snap, hands flying to my hips and holding there.