by A. Marie
What happens when someone sees past the ruse though?
I peek at his serene face as his eyebrows pinch together in…what? What’s haunting him?
And why is it getting worse?
CHAPTER 18
Beckett
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
There’s a body snuggled against mine and I’m pretty damn sure it belongs to a female. Opening my eyes to see who it is seems almost as unbearable as the fact that I brought someone back to my place at all last night. There’s usually nothing but groupies and girlfriends at the races and neither are my style.
Okay, fine, a groupie here and there is exactly my style. Sue me.
Even though I didn’t drink anything stronger than water last night, my mind still scrambles to identify my guest but the only woman I can think of is Paige. She’s been the only one occupying my head since she moved in and yesterday was no exception. Waking up to find her in my bed wasn’t the kick to my junk I thought it’d be. Not like this.
There was a peace I’ve never known having her by my side the entire day. Even as we worked together, it was like coming home after a long trip abroad. You notice things you took for granted before, things you would’ve never noticed but now have a new respect for. Having Paige around reminds me of the little things, the stuff I’ve been too busy to appreciate—like laughs. Holy shit, her laughs are like magic. I make people laugh daily either for fun or for…other reasons, but getting Paige to laugh is the best head rush there is. I became outright addicted to the sound. Quick. Her throaty laughs are the best because you know damn well she means them. There’s no pretense with her. What you see is what you get and I like what I see. Have since my eyes first collided with hers.
There’s a sadness clinging to her lately though, and it seemed to lose some of its effect the longer she hung around yesterday. It wasn’t gone completely last night at dinner but she was freer, more relaxed. That is until she pushed me away.
Hell, after hearing her invite who-the-fuck-knows over to sleep here, I was more than happy to push back. It’s for the best anyway. As much as I like having her close, I have to rein in my reactions to her. She’s seen enough as it is.
Which is why I can’t believe I brought a chick home last night. Paige might’ve accidentally trampled over my only rule the night before with her drunken missteps but last night was all on me. I know better than to let someone sleep over, even if it probably had more to do with Paige’s fuckbuddy than wanting my own.
I don’t know what’s going on with me but this shit has to stop. I’m not a kid anymore. Nobody should be able to affect me this way.
Even with that in mind, I touch my fingers to my nose to feel for any wetness while keeping my eyes tightly shut.
Dry.
Fuck yes.
Now I just need to get mystery girl out of here before Paige sees. I don’t know why I care about her seeing someone else in my bed but I do. I should already be up to help with her medicine—girl does a shit job applying the stuff—but I need to take care of this, uh, situation first.
I’ve never had to do this in the light of day before but I decide to rip the bandage off as quickly as possible and get the awkwardness over with already.
Except when I open my eyes, I find a mass of burgundy waves fanned out on my pillow. And arm. And chest. And…yep, some of it’s even in my mouth. Damn, Paige has a ton of hair. Good thing she never took me up on my offer to wash it. I’d be in there forever washing this mane.
My dick stirs.
On second thought, a long shower with Paige might not be so bad.
How did she end up in here again? Did she get drunk after we left? It wouldn’t surprise me. Girl is going through enough, not that she’s told me but she doesn’t have to for me to know something’s weighing her down. Sadness bears a heavy load and my back’s been aching for years from the weight of my own.
A small moan passes her lips as she burrows deeper into my shoulder and I don’t think I’ve seen anything sexier. That comfort. The ease of it.
My traitorous arm is slung across her stomach, her exposed stomach, and I consider pulling it away before she can wake to find me all over her, but her soft skin is like leather on a warm day—supple and inviting—and I can’t seem to find the strength.
My fingers graze her spine instead, spreading out along her side. My dick strains against my boxer briefs, wanting to explore, too. I’d love to grip that waist and drag her on top of me, get her so close there’s nowhere else for her to go. I want her all to myself but can’t. I can’t do that. Not to either of us.
Didn’t she just have someone else warming her bed? Where is he?
Before I can move another muscle, her eyes open and meet mine with a wariness I wasn’t expecting. She did come to me, right? Like, I didn’t bring her in here. Did I?
Damn, I’m more fucked than I thought.
“Hi,” she squeaks, which is so unlike her, the sound makes me smirk.
“Hey.” My smile grows, despite all the emotions fighting for purchase. “Should we label our doors from now on? I thought the splinters sticking out of mine were a dead giveaway but maybe J.D. doesn’t care about that sort of thing.”
She frowns. “J.D.?”
“Jack Daniel’s. Did he lead you to the wrong room again?”
Her eyes search mine before they’re closed and she hums, literally hums, as she exhales through her nose. My eyes gloss over her face, assessing her scratches. They’re better but not by much. She needs more ointment but I’m not moving from here anytime soon. If heaven on earth was a thing, this moment right now might give it a run for its money.
“Jose.”
“Excuse me?” Come fucking again.
She opens her eyes again, this time with humor lining them.
“Not Jack. Jose.”
Ah.
That’s why I always mix my liquor so blindly. The more players, the less likely you are to remember who exactly fucked you up.
Like I could ever forget.
“I thought maybe Jose was the nippledick you had over last night.” No clue how big his dick is but if Paige left him to come in here for nothing more than a snuggle sesh, it’s gotta be nipple-sized. Just sayin’.
The side of her lips quirks and she presses further into my shoulder, trying to hide it but I stop her with my hand on her exposed side, wanting to see. I want to see everything on her.
“That’d be Cynthia. My friend. A woman.” She emphasizes the last word like that clears everything up. Like two women haven’t hooked up before. And this is one of those oh so rare moments where I’m hoping they didn’t.
Living in apartments makes it hard to tell whose car belongs to who around here but there was one parked outside last night when I got home that I’ve never seen before and I’d like to never see again, even if it does belong to a straight, platonic-as-all-hell, woman. Because it’ll only remind me of what it felt like arriving home to see it there to begin with. Like I wasn’t good enough. Like betrayal.
She notices my lack of relief and scrunches her eyebrows, asking, “When did you find out? Before or after?”
If I knew she was having someone over before or after I took off. Fuck. She’s calling me on my bullshit and I don’t have a good answer for her. How can I explain why I rushed out last night? I wanted to play with her a bit in the kitchen when she seemed off. Dinner was fucking fine, until it wasn’t. She just changed all of a sudden, going from relaxed and talkative to uptight and quiet, and I didn’t like it. I hated it. I thought we would tease each other like we’d been doing but then it all got away from me when she shut me down with absolutely fuck all reasoning then ran. I overheard her on the phone and assumed she was choosing to be around someone else.
I thought she chose them over me. Him. I thought she chose him over me.
And just like that, a wound I never bothered to treat like I’ve been treating hers opened up. I wrapped it with a half ass tourniquet of
denial and left before she could see it bleed out.
I drop my voice, hoping it covers the obvious, to say, “I had a race.”
“Before or after?”
She leans back now, furrowing her eyebrows over those blazing emerald beauties.
Her eyes never cease to amaze me. Their brilliant color alone stands out in a crowd but it’s what’s in them that slays me. Every fucking time. Paige holds so much in just a look and I wouldn’t be surprised if lesser men crumble from the intensity. She could easily be a dream or a nightmare, but I already have plenty of the latter, so I try with the truth and see where it gets me.
“Before.”
The truth is I would’ve done anything she asked last night. I would’ve touched her more than the few playful times I dared to in the shop, if she let me. Hell, I would’ve done a lot more than that. She has too much of the power that’s slipping through my grasp every turn I take. I can’t figure out how or why I react to her the way I do. Why she can be in my bed right now and my heart is as steady as it was before I woke up. How does she make me want things I’ve never wanted with anyone?
I wanted her last night. I wanted all of her. I want all of her. And that right there is why I ran like a fucking pussy.
If I want something, someone, and they don’t choose me back, how am I supposed to handle that? I’ve been struggling with that very problem for more than half my life and I still don’t know. I don’t have a motherfucking clue.
So, I ran, too. I took off, ignoring the pain oozing from my every breath, and tried to busy myself with anything other than the truth. The problem is, there’s nowhere to hide when you’re running from yourself.
I came home with my hands covered in my own anguish and fell asleep across the hall from the person I didn’t want there to begin with but now can’t imagine her anywhere else. Anywhere further away anyway.
Then, in a twist I did not see coming, she came to me. And I don’t know how it happened, or why, but I can’t—absolutely can-fucking-not—find it in myself to question it. Some things are bigger than us and this feels like one of them.
Paige goes to roll away but my hand, still on her waist, catches her before she can escape. I overcorrect her movement and she ends up closer than before with our lips dangerously close and my hand burning where it grips her hip like my life fucking depends on her being here.
Of course, Paige—never one to be outdone—slips a leg over my hips and rolls me onto my back as she climbs on top.
I wish I could say I have a witty comment, or a sarcastic remark, or even a single fucking word to acknowledge this gorgeous woman mounting me but my brain malfunctions as all the blood rushes to my cock, leaving me completely speechless.
Holy. Fuck.
Paige broke my only rule, not once but twice now, handed me my own ass when I tried to lie, and is now straddling me without a concern in the world. Does she know how crazy this is? My self-control is dangling in the wind and one small gust from either direction is all it’ll take for that shit to snap completely. She’s playing a very dangerous game right now and looking up at her with that naughty ass little smirk, I’m pretty sure she knows it.
Her flimsy black shorts are pulled taut as her hips stretch across mine. The girl adjusts herself for the wide fit, rubbing her pussy against my solid erection and we both freeze from the contact. Our eyes connect and I can see the dare in hers. What will we do next?
I can also see the uncertainty. What should we do next?
“Last night I celebrated my friend’s new job. One that isn’t next to me every night anymore.” Her voice is strained with a deeper meaning and I pause, taking her in.
“If you’re upset about that, why would you celebrate it?”
It’s written across her face how much she’ll miss her friend.
“Because she’s getting more money and she deserves that.”
“Why don’t you do the same thing? Didn’t you say you need to save money? Then you can keep working together.”
She shakes her head, exhaling. “Some things are worth more than money.”
We sit with that for a minute, each of us lost in our own worlds full of priceless treasures we’re not willing to share.
She stares down at me through heavy lids. “But I will have her or anyone else I want over whenever I want, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. Tantrums included.”
“I don’t-” I don’t like that. I don’t want that.
I don’t fucking think so.
Nice try.
Keeping our connection, I finger a stray wave along her neck and watch as her eyes close on a whisper. I can’t make out what she said but her expression tells me everything I need to know. She wants this. She wants me. At least right now. And I can only give her this moment because that’s all that’s on my mind anyway. Not tomorrow. Hell, not even tonight at her little faux-surprise party. For now, I’m going to give her what she wants. What we both want.
She can talk her shit later.
Unlimited sleepovers with anyone she wants? We’ll see about that.
We will definitely see about that.
Twisting the locks further around my knuckles, I grasp her collarbone for leverage at the same time as I push my hips up to collide with hers. Paige throws her head back with a moan falling from her parted lips. Her nails dig into my pecs almost to the point of pain but honestly, I wouldn’t know. She’s all I can see, hear, and feel, damn it, and she feels like heaven incarnate.
My other hand grips where her hip and pelvis meet and pulls down as I thrust upward again. Another moan is another shot straight to my bloodstream. Like a fucking drug addict, I do it again. And again. And again.
Lazily rolling her head forward, Paige leans down to capture my lips but my hand below her throat blocks her from descending fully. I’ve got a front row seat to the best show in town and there’s no way I’m missing a second of it.
After. I’ll kiss the shit out of her after. Right now she’s mine to watch. Mine to play like a fiddle. She’s just fucking mine.
Something unfamiliar sweeps through my chest but I ignore it and continue pumping as she finally meets my gaze again. She smirks, probably at me trying to take charge when she never, ever lets me otherwise.
Yeah, well, it’s about fucking time, girl.
This game between us has finally reached its limit—as have I—and I’m doing things my way for a while. Fuck the rules.
Her smile falls away as my cock hits particularly close to her sweet spot making her eyebrows crease.
“Beckett,” slips from her sexy mouth and that’s when I lose all the patience I swear I was practicing before.
In one quick motion, I flip us so I’m hovering just above her. My thumb circles the hollow of her throat as my other hand lingers at her waistband. My eyes bore into hers, asking permission to take this one step further.
Shit, maybe ten steps, I don’t know. Math sucks and I’ve lost count.
All I know is I need to give her something. Anything. It’s like a deep-rooted need that I never had until this moment. One I barely even recognize but still know should be obeyed. If I don’t touch her right now, all hell in my body will break loose. My heart, my mind—those I’ll worry about later. She moaned my name for the second time now and I’ll be damned if I can’t coax it out of her again. And maybe again for good measure. I’m an overachiever like that.
Paige cocks her head at me, undoubtedly planning what she should do but I don’t let her think too hard as I dip my lips to her stomach, tasting her exposed skin. Her torso is soft and warm until I push a little too far then I’m met with hard resistance from her toned abs.
“Let me in,” I plead against her skin. In where exactly? I’m not sure yet but she seems to understand because she arches her back, allowing me to slide her shorts and panties down enough to reach where we both want me to be.
“Oh, fuck,” I breathe, seeing her lower half come into view.
Paige is perfect
when she’s dressed like a badass on her bike or a tired nurse going in for a shift or in ratty ass men’s clothing with horrendous bedhead, but naked Paige? Naked Paige is something else entirely. She’s the type of dangerous all fathers should warn their sons about. She could end us if she wanted to. She could start a war in the blink of an eye because I’ll tell you right now, I ain’t blinking anytime soon for fear I might miss what’s in front of me—her incredible naked body all ready for me and only me.
Fuck everything else.
Eager, or nervous maybe, Paige starts to squirm, but I can’t. I just can’t rush. Whatever I did in my life to deserve this beautiful woman in my bed today, I don’t know, but I’ll take my time showing my appreciation. I’d planned on working her with my long fingers, keeping it slightly impersonal—just in case—but with her pussy on display, plans have changed and goddamn, I need to taste her.
Fuck impersonal. Shit’s about to get real personal, real quick.
She’s completely bare below the waist without a hint of stubble like most chicks that shave, proving she gets waxed. Makes sense since she rides street bikes. I’ve heard it’s uncomfortable for females if they don’t keep up with their shit. At least I won’t get rug burn on my face if she lets me take this spontaneous trip south of her border.
Kissing my way down to her hip bone, I glance up to see her watching me through thick dark lashes. Her nipples are poking through the white, almost see-through material and I make a note to circle back to those. Usually, I’d try to cover all my bases at once, but this time I want to focus on each individual spot. Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the view in the meantime though.
“Lose the top.”
As fucking usual, Paige just shakes her head, driving me crazy.
She’ll learn though.
Grabbing her hips with both hands, I flip us again so I’m flat on my back and she’s straddling my face with both knees on the mattress on either side of my head. She shrieks and laughs, trying to move away, but my hands hold her in place with her pussy right above my jaw.
