Call on Me

by Roni Loren

  “I won’t,” she promised, dialing the speed on the vibrator down. “I swear.”

  Pike positioned himself behind her, his hands still stroking her like he was sculpting her into something new and different. Maybe he was. Then his hands caressed over her hips and ass.

  “Just relax for me.” He tugged at the plug, easing it out of her. She moaned as the silicone slid past her sensitive tissues. “That’s it. Gorgeous.”

  She heard the sound of the foil packet, the cap on the bottle of lube, and then something much more intimidating than the plug was pressing against her back entrance. Instinctively, she tensed. “Pike.”

  “Shh,” he said, his voice like warm milk sliding over her. “You can take me. You should see how sexy and ready you are for me. You just have to breathe and let me in. I’m going to make you feel so good, baby. I promise I won’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you.”

  She smiled into the sheets. “You just beat me with a belt.”

  He dragged the head of his cock over her opening in a maddening tease. “And you fucking loved it.”

  “God, I did,” she said, rocking against him.

  “You’re going to love this, too.”

  “I’m ready.”

  With that, he shifted forward and nudged against her. The thick head of his cock felt like an impossible obstacle. She was going to be split in two.

  “You’re too big.”

  A choked laugh escaped him. “What every guy secretly wants to hear. But I promise, I’m not. Just trust me, baby. I’ve got you.”

  She sucked in a long breath, filling her lungs and working to ease the tight anticipation in her muscles, then she let it out. And as soon as all the air escaped her chest, her body gave way to him. He pushed past the resistance and eased inside, tentative at first and then seating deep when she made an involuntary moan.

  Her fingers curled into the sheets, and she sucked in a long shuddering breath. She’d expected it to feel more like traditional sex once he was in, but this felt altogether different, the nerves more sensitive, the pressure more intense—the vibrator against her clit only making everything that much more Technicolor. “Oh, God.”

  “I second that,” Pike said on a groan. “Fuck, you feel good. You okay?”

  “I’m so okay.”

  “Thank God,” he said, holding her hips and moving slow, seeming to stimulate every molecule in her body at once. “Now it’s my turn to be tortured. Because damn, mama, the way you look right now … my cock deep inside you, your skin red with my marks, I’m fighting not to lose it and fuck you through this bed. You’re like goddamned heaven.”

  “You don’t have to be easy with me.”

  “Baby, don’t tempt me.” His voice seemed to be coming through clenched teeth.

  She peeked back over her shoulder at him, finding him the picture of restrained violence. His jaw was tight and sweat glistened along his temples, but the sheer pleasure on his face was something to behold. A rush of pure, wicked need to let him off that leash filled her. She wanted him unhinged. His eyes met hers and she rocked her hips back against him. “Take what you need, Pike. I have a safe word.”

  He closed his eyes and his grip tightened on her hips. But then he inhaled a deep breath, a dragon preparing to breathe fire, and opened his eyes. He put a hand to her back. “Flat on your stomach, trap the vibrator between you and the bed.”

  She let him push her down to the bed, and she positioned the vibrator where she needed. Then his weight was on her, pinning her fully and completely, his cock deep in her ass.

  He pressed his palm along the side of her head, pinning her to the mattress, and pumping into her in long, powerful strokes. “You’re mine, Oakley.”

  “Yes,” she rasped out, her release rushing toward her.

  “Say it. I want to hear you say it.”

  “I’m yours, Pike.” The words sounded like they came from someone else, her brain not keeping up with her body’s overwhelming responses. Something about the position was sending her to a mental place she hadn’t been before, one where her mind didn’t fight anything. One where she just existed and enjoyed. Surrendered.

  To him.

  To Pike.

  Pike braced his elbows at her side and dipped down to kiss her neck, his hips pumping furiously now. “Yes, baby. You’re mine. All mine. Come for me.”

  He sank his teeth into the meat of her shoulder and fucked into her harder than she would’ve ever expected she could take. The motion jostled the vibrator hard against her clit and everything sparked inside her. She turned her face into the mattress, anticipating the size and scope of what was about to happen. And then everything went bright and brilliant behind her eyes.

  She screamed. Real-deal screamed into the mattress, her body and reactions no longer in her control. Her fingers scrabbled at the covers as the orgasm took her over and yanked her under, drowning her with sensation and not letting her up for air. Pike grunted, dark and frantic behind her, fucking into her now with carnal abandon.

  But she barely heard it over the noises she was making, her throat scraping raw with the primal, gut-deep sounds. The release seemed to go on and on without end, the power of it rattling her to the core and the vibrator not giving her a break in between.

  And Pike, as if sensing she wasn’t close to done, kept going, holding back his own release and driving her higher and higher.

  Another wave of pleasure loomed within her and she worried, actually worried, that she couldn’t take it. “James!”

  “Let it have you, mama,” he said, his words strained. “Give me one more.”

  And just like that, her body obeyed, making her go incoherent and nearly soundless as she gasped through the force of it.

  Pike let loose a long sound of pleasure then, his body slick against hers as he flattened her fully onto the bed and shuddered through his own release.

  She was boneless by then, boneless and sated and spinning.

  Pike melted against her, careful to keep his full weight off of her, but burying his face in her neck and laying kisses there. “Good God.”

  “Mmph,” she murmured in agreement.

  “You all right?”

  “Ask me tomorrow.” Her voice was hoarse as the words moved past her raw throat.

  He chuckled, the bounce of his body against hers making her shiver since he was still inside her. He reached between them, apparently grabbing the condom, and eased out of her. He planted another kiss between her shoulder blades. “I’ll go run a bath for you.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Hush, woman. You can barely move. Let me take care of you, so I can feel manly and important.”

  “I think you fucked me into a stupor. Your manliness is affirmed.” But she sighed into the blankets. “But maybe I will just lie here for a sec.”

  He brushed his fingers over her hair and looked down at her. “Rest. I’ll take care of everything. I’ve got you.”

  She closed her eyes at the words and the tender tone of his voice. I’ve got you.

  Yes you do, James Pike Ryland. Yes, you do.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Pike lay in bed, listening to Oakley sleep at his side, and stared at the slowly spinning ceiling fan. He should be exhausted. He and Oakley had fallen into bed after that phone call and had screwed like they were in combat—rough and hard and frantic. After her bath and his shower, they’d collapsed into the bed like they’d run a marathon. She’d told him not to say anything, that they should just enjoy the afterglow and go to sleep.

  He’d agreed, not wanting to spook her with serious talk. But the fact that she was letting him sleep here at all wasn’t lost on him. She’d told him he needed to be gone before Reagan woke up at seven, but the Oakley of a few weeks ago would’ve kicked him out right after sex. She’d wanted him next to her in bed as much as he wanted her there—even if she hadn’t said as much out loud.

  But what he couldn’t get out of his head was that when she’d come tonight, it hadn’t
been the name Pike she’d called out, but James. At first, he’d figured it was because of the caller, that she was protecting Pike’s identity by using James, the more common name. But it’d happened again when they’d made love. And hearing that name he’d so long ago left behind had made his chest tighten. Oakley saw him. The real guy beneath all the other crap. That’s who she’d invited in her bed.

  And Pike didn’t want to leave it.

  The broken condom had yanked him and Oakley apart before they’d gotten a chance to give this a shot. Yes, this was only supposed to be a hookup, a fling, but he’d learned over the years that his gut didn’t lie to him. And he’d felt the difference with Oakley from the beginning.

  Pike got off on kink and daring sex. That’s what got his motor going and held his interest when it came to women. And Oakley could play that game like a champ. But with her, it was an added bonus, not what drew him to her. Everything was different with her. The simple things lit him up—kissing her, conversations over dinner, watching her with her daughter … lying next to her while she slept.

  A week away from her had been torture, especially knowing she was dealing with all that stress and worry on her own. Protective instincts he hadn’t known existed had consumed him. And then tonight … when she’d said she was his, he’d wanted it to be true. The desire to claim her had been potent and absolute.

  He had no idea what to do with that. Oakley could be pregnant. He was leaving for the tour in a few weeks. She already had a child. This had gotten complicated quickly. And the impulse that was pounding through him on how to handle the situation was a seriously idiotic one. He could hear all the words his mom and cops and social workers had thrown at him through the years—reckless, impulsive, stupid. He was so out of his depth with this.

  He sat up in bed, careful not to disturb Oakley, and grabbed a pen and pad off the bedside table to scribble a note about having to go back to his place to feed Monty. His heart was beating too fast and his head was spinning, a panic attack waiting in the wings. But within a few seconds, he was up and dressed and headed for the door.

  He needed fresh air.

  And some perspective.

  And he needed both right now.

  Foster opened his door with no shirt on and his dark hair sticking up on end. He scratched his chest and yawned. “I swear to God this better be good.”

  Pike looked his best friend up and down. “What’s with you? Usually you’re up and halfway through your morning run by now. Your woman not giving you a chance to rest?”

  Foster smirked and opened the door so that Pike could come in. “I wish that were the case. We babysat last night, and Lucy decided she wanted to pull an all-nighter with Uncle Foster and Aunt Cela. Apparently, she’s not used to sleeping in strange places.”

  Pike chuckled. “The big bad dom taken down by an infant. Nice.”

  Foster flipped him off and led him into the living room, where a blanket was bunched up on the couch next to a harassed pillow. A few feet away, a playpen type thing sat near the unlit fireplace. Lucy’s dark hair poked out between the netting of the makeshift baby bed.

  Foster cocked his head toward the sleeping child. “Keep your voice down. Cela finally got her to settle down around three, but she didn’t feel comfortable leaving her sleeping out here even with the monitor. I volunteered to stand watch in case she woke up again.”

  Pike peeked over the side of the playpen, a knot of nerves gathering. Jace, Evan, and Andre’s little girl looked as sweet as an angel sleeping, but Pike couldn’t help the rush of anxiety at the thought of being responsible for one himself.

  He raked a hand through his hair and sat on the couch opposite Foster. “Sorry I woke you.”

  Foster’s eyes narrowed, his ever-perceptive best friend evaluating him. “You look almost as bad as I do. What’s going on, man?”

  “You know that woman I was … am … seeing? The one you saw at Wicked?”

  “Yeah.”

  Pike leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his thighs, unsure where to start. “Well, things have gotten … complicated.”

  Foster’s eyebrow went up ever so slightly. “Meaning?”

  “I may have gotten her pregnant.”

  Foster’s eyes went wide. “What? Fuck, Pike. How did you do that?”

  “Well, when a man and a woman get together and like each other, they can make a—”

  Foster leaned over the coffee table and smacked the side of Pike’s head like he used to do when they were kids. “Shut up. Don’t joke. What the fuck happened?”

  “Condom broke. She’s not on the pill. We won’t know for a few more days, though.”

  Foster sagged back against the couch cushions and rubbed a hand over his unshaven jaw. “Jesus, man. That’s … I don’t even know what to say. How is she taking it?”

  “Oakley’s tough—maybe too tough. She basically told me I could walk away and she wouldn’t hold it against me. She thinks the responsibility is on her because she didn’t want to take a morning-after pill.”

  Foster cringed. “Pike, you know you can’t—”

  “I’m not going to fucking leave her on the hook, man. What kind of asshole do you think I am?”

  Foster blew out a breath. “Sorry, it’s just—I mean, you’ve made it no secret how you feel about kids. And with your schedule and the band …”

  “I wouldn’t be the first musician with a kid.”

  Foster laced his hands together, letting them hang loosely between his knees as he took on a thoughtful expression—the businessman stepping in. “Well, obviously, you could help her financially. Maybe you could hire a nanny so that when you’re not in town, she has an extra hand. And when you’re in town, you could get visitation on the weekends and the nanny could help you. There are ways—”

  “I think I might love her.”

  Foster looked up at that, a bewildered expression on his face. “What?”

  Pike stood and shoved his hands in his pockets, hearing the words out loud sending him almost straight into hyperventilation. He paced around the couch, studiously avoiding looking toward the baby crib. “I know I sound crazy. That’s why I’m here. You’re good at talking sense into me. I’m having stupid urges. Talk me down, Fos.”

  Foster watched him as he paced. “Haven’t you only known her for a few weeks?”

  “Yes, but it’s like I’ve always known her. I know that sounds weird, but there’s this thing, this stuff, when I’m with her. I just … Everything’s different. The vibe between us. The way we can talk to each other. The sex … God, it’s like I’m a damn virgin again. I actually get it now—why you like the control. That need to dominate her came out of fucking nowhere. When I’m with her, I want to be everything to her, like this big, shining hero who she can trust to take her wherever she wants to go. All the bullshit that usually comes along with hookups just doesn’t exist with her. Everything is better and real and new.”

  Foster listened to Pike’s rambling speech without changing expression. He stretched his arm over the back of the couch. “Doesn’t she already have a child?”

  “Yes!” Pike said, keeping his voice down, but throwing his hands up. “That alone should make me want to run, right? But you should meet this kid. She’s like … the coolest little girl ever. She likes Patti Smith, for God’s sake. What eleven-year-old even knows who that is? And she’s a musician, too, and has this voice that will knock you on your damn ass. Even Monty likes her.”

  Foster’s mouth twitched.

  Pike stopped pacing. “What?”

  Foster shrugged. “Nothing. Just listening.”

  “You think I’m fucking nuts.”

  “Yep.”

  Pike braced his hands on the back of the couch and sighed. “I knew it.”

  “And,” Foster added. “I think you’re in love.”

  Pike lifted his head.

  Foster’s lips curled into a shit-eating grin. “Congratulations, man. Welcome to hell.”

  Pike si
mply stared, his friend’s words sinking in, confirming Pike’s worst fear. “I am so absolutely fucked.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I leave for a big tour in a month. And she hates the musician life. All she wants is for me to go away. I’m only supposed to be the one-night stand. She doesn’t even want her daughter to know that we’re seeing each other.”

  Foster stood and walked over to Pike, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You can’t control what she does or how she feels. But my advice is don’t leave any cards on the table unturned. Don’t fuck it up by trying to play cool about it. Lay it all out there. If she doesn’t want more, you’ll at least know you did all you could.”

  Pike’s stomach twisted at that. The thought of putting his feelings out there, of offering that kind of vulnerability to anyone made him want to curl into the fetal position. The last time he’d made that kind of appeal had been with his mother. He’d put his heart on a platter for her and she’d served it as dinner to the man who’d beaten Pike. He didn’t know if he could survive having someone reject him like that again.

  And what did he have to offer Oakley? Money, sure. Love, yes. But if he was gone half the year or more, what were those things worth? And if there was a baby, he knew nothing of being a father. It’s not like he could take notes from his own.

  “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing,” he said, pressing his temples with his thumb and middle finger.

  “None of us do, bro.” At that, Lucy began to whimper. Foster left Pike’s side and went over to the crib. He lifted up Lucy with ease and kissed her head. “Good morning, diva. Didn’t want to be left out of the conversation?”

  Lucy wriggled against Foster then grabbed his hair in her tight little fist and began babbling happily.

  Foster bounced her in his arms. “I think this one’s going to be a domme. She’s got a thing for pulling hair and demanding attention.”

  Pike tried to acknowledge the joke, but he couldn’t muster up a grin. All he could do was watch how at ease his friend was with this child who wasn’t even his. Foster would be a kick-ass father. All his life, Foster had been the responsible one, the one who knew how to take charge and make everyone else feel calm. Pike had been the fuck-up. He hadn’t even been able to keep his siblings safe.