Birthday Girl(89)

“It’s my house!”

I shake my head. “She won’t satisfy you,” I tell him. “She’s not what you want.”

“So, you’re jealous?”

I lower my voice, approaching him. “You have everything you need in this house. There’s no reason to look elsewhere for…” I drop my head, suddenly a little embarrassed, “for anything you need,” I tell him.

I’m all he needs.

His chest rises and falls in front of my eyes, and I inhale his scent that’s unique to only him. Sun, wood, and the faint fragrances of his body wash, shampoo, and the Tide his clothes have been washed in. He smells like a hot summer night and how I wish my first time had gone, and I soak it up while I can, because any minute, he’s going to storm off.

“So, you had a little tantrum on purpose then?” he says, not really asking. “Because you wanted to be the one in my bed tonight?”

I dart my eyes up, narrowing them. “Because you invited her over to hurt me, but I know your game, and you’ll be the one who loses,” I retort.

I close the inch between us, my shirt brushing his. His chin drops as he looks down at me, and my heart pounds against my chest.

“Because even if she stayed and she rode you to kingdom-come all night long,” I tell him, “you’ll still wake up thinking about me before you even remember she’s in bed next to you.”

His breathing grows heavier, and I can see him weakening.

I continue. “You’ll be wondering what I’m doing in my bed alone, if I’m awake and warm, or,” I push up on my toes and hover my mouth over his jaw as I whisper, “if I’m touching myself and dreaming about you coming in and eating me out through my panties.”

He sucks in a breath, closing his eyes, and I can feel him get hard through his jeans. “Jordan, please,” he begs, sounding desperate. “Fuck.”

I try to keep my smile to myself, but I’m so happy. I know he wants me.

I hook my fingers on the waist of his jeans, nudging his chin with my nose to taunt him. “I know you want to,” I whisper again. “You want to grab me so bad.”

I stay right there, up on him, but I take my hands off him and slide my fingers into my own waistband instead, gently and slowly slipping off my shorts. They fall down to my feet, and I fist my fingers, my body so alive with fear and desire and need.

Look at me.

Touch me.

“I’m dying to taste you,” I tell him. “And to feel you. Every day it’s getting harder and harder to ignore what my body wants. I wake up so wet, Pike.” I move my mouth over to his, layering our lips. “I want you to want me. I want to see you wanting me and getting off on me.”

I can feel the slickness between my legs, and his breath is so hot. I lower myself to my feet but keep my eyes on his.

“I love how you worry about me and want to protect me,” I say. “But a girl has needs, too, and eventually, I’ll have to find another man who can do your job better.”

Rage burns behind his frozen stare, but he doesn’t blink.

“Another man will kiss me,” I breathe out, “and take off my clothes and go at me in his bed, in his shower, and spread me wide over breakfast on his kitchen table…”

Pike’s lips are almost twisted in a snarl, and he’s breathing hard—in and out, in and out as he glares down at me.

It’s there. I can feel him. It’s like we’re wrapped up together, the heat between us almost suffocating, and all he has to do is reach out and pull me into his arms.

Take me.

I wait.

I’m yours. Just reach out and take me.

But he doesn’t.

He just stands there, and tears burn at the backs of my eyes as he hovers, unmoving.

Unwilling.

My heart is breaking.

I shake my head. “You don’t have a clue what to do with me, do you?”

I scoff and push away from him, but then suddenly, he grabs my arms hauling me back to him. I gasp as he puts his hands under my arms and lifts me off my feet, bringing me face to face with him like I’m five years old.

“Oh, I may be out of practice, little girl,” he bites out in a threatening tone, “but I think I’ll figure it out.”

And he brings me in, kissing me and stealing my breath so hard all I can do is wrap my legs around him and hold on.

Fuck yes.





Pike



Goddamn her.

Goddammit. I’m not stopping. Fuck it. I can’t.

She just kept pushing and pushing, hitting all my buttons, everything she knew would bring me to this, and I wanted her to. In the back of my mind, I always knew I couldn’t not have her.

I grab her ass in my hands and drop us down to her bed. She unlocks her legs and straddles me, our lips never breaking contact. I love her mouth. Hot and sweet, and she teases me with that tongue—flicking and brushing in ways that drive me insane.

“I hated feeling like that,” she pants.

“Like what?” I run my hands all over her, gripping and squeezing as she breathes over my mouth and grinds on me, making me painfully hard.

“Jealous,” she says.

It takes me a moment to remember we were fighting about April being here. Slipping my hand up her shirt, I take her breast in my palm, and she lets out a little gasp. I groan at finally having her in my hand.