Birthday Girl Page 40

“You have some mud,” I explain, looking up at him with my body pressing into his.

I fall back to my feet and continue. “You were saying?”

He clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. I’m a…I’m a little tired of some of them by now, I guess, but at one time,” he tells me, “they were exactly who I was and what I needed to say about myself.”

I nod, understanding. I trail around to his back and wash off his neck, his shoulder blades, and let my fingers fall down his spine. He shifts under my touch, and heat filters through my hand, rising up my arm, and I’m so turned on. I don’t want to stop touching him, but using my hands doesn’t feel like enough anymore. I want to feel his again.

What is Pike Lawson like when he takes?

He turns his head, asking softly, “Aren’t you going to ask me what the tattoos mean?”

I step back around to his front, watching my fingers as they graze his muscled arm. “Someday,” I whisper back.

I do want to know. I want to know everything about him. But maybe, I figure, we’ll keep having a reason to find each other if we save some things for later.

And right now, I’m desperate to see what else his mouth can do other than talk.

Touch me. Please.

Kiss me.

I drop the hose to my side and drag the fingers of my left hand down his abs, my heart pounding so hard it hurts. They tighten as my nails slide across the muscles, and I’m so afraid to look at him.

This is wrong. I know it’s wrong.

But God, he feels good. I can feel his eyes on me, and every thread of my bra is chafing my skin, and I just want to be bare right now. I want him to see me.

I close my eyes. Oh, God.

“Jordan…” He grasps my hand, and I can hear him breathing hard.

I nod, opening my eyes but still unable to meet his. “I know,” I breathe out. “I’m sorry.”

I’m parched, my eyes sting with tears and I don’t know why, and there’s a need between my thighs that is almost painful.

Slowly, he tips my chin up. I finally raise my gaze, but he’s not looking at me, either. His eyes are cast down, and his brow is pinched in pain. “You’re just out of sorts,” he says quietly. “You miss Cole, and I just happen to be here. It’s okay.”

I remain still, my fingers still on his stomach and his hand still on my chin. His chest moves up and down, and for a moment, I think I’m going to turn tail and run. He’s making excuses for me. An easy one to hide behind. It would make sense I’m feeling lost and in need of someone else to escape into.

But what’s his excuse. I know he looks at me. I know he does it when he thinks I don’t see it, but I do.

My eyes sting, filling with tears. “That’s not why I was apologizing,” I tell him.

I raise my eyes, meeting his, and while I’m afraid, I have to dive. I can’t hold back.

“I’m sorry, because,” I whisper shakily, “this isn’t the first time I wanted you to touch me.”

And his gaze freezes on me.

He holds my eyes, unmoving except for the rise and fall of his chest, and I have no idea what’s going through his head right now, but I don’t think I’m sorry. No more excuses that this is about me being distraught over Cole.

The attraction was already there.

He slowly lets his fingers fall from my chin, both of his hands balling into fists, and he clenches his jaw, suddenly looking angry.

On reflex, I take a step back, but I don’t get any farther. Grabbing my waist, he hauls me into him, snaking an arm round me and gripping my jaw in his hand between his thumb and four fingers. I gasp, loving the feeling of his body hard against mine but scared, too, because he looks so mad.

“No,” he growls, baring his teeth and looking at me with fury in his eyes. “Do you understand? It’s not happening. You’re not getting that from me.”

Tears fills my eyes, and I can barely see him anymore as my body shakes with a silent sob.

His arm is like steel around me, and I can feel the heat of his rage coming off his skin.

He shakes me. “You wanna get laid, then you go hunt somewhere else.”

I suck in air and twist away from him, pushing his body away.

He’s right. What am I doing? Why would I do that? I feel so stupid, and I crouch down, quickly gathering up my shirt and shoes.

But I wasn’t imagining it, was I? There was something between us, and it was coming from him as much as from me. Did I just see what I wanted to see?

I want to scream. Tears stream down my face, and he still just stands there, glaring at me.

“Go to your room,” he orders.

I break out in a laugh, the bitter sound dripping with disbelief. “Go fuck yourself!” I stand up, hardening my voice. “I’ll find another bed tonight, thank you. Anyone will do for a slut like me, right?”

I whip around and run for the back door, but he grabs the inside of my elbow and hauls me back into the wall of his chest. I drop my shirt and shoes, and he forces us forward into the wall of the house. I shoot out my hands, crashing into the siding.

Jesus.

I shake, sucking in short, shallow breaths as my heart races and my blood runs hot under my skin.

What the…

He reaches around, taking my face in his hand and his hot breath in my ear. “Don’t threaten me with shit like that. If you want to act like a brat, then maybe you should get grounded like one, huh?”

I almost laugh through the tears drying on my face. “By all means,” I taunt. “I’m dying to see how you try to take control of me. You can’t even get Cole to do his chores, and when was the last time a woman got hot in your bed? You’re not even a man.”

He growls and slams his palm into the house in front of me.

I jump.

And the next thing I know, his hand is in my hair, and my head is being twisted to the side as his lips crash down on mine.

I whimper, the feel and taste of him flooding me so hard my clit pulses between my legs. Oh, shit. My eyelids flutter closed, the heat and adrenaline diving from my chest to my groin in the span of a second.

He pulls back. “Fuck.” And his fist tightens in my hair.

But he comes back in, his mouth covering mine, demanding more, and I can barely catch my breath. I’m hot all over.

He tastes so good. Feels so good. It only takes a moment, but my brain finally kicks in, and I reach around, taking the back of his neck and kissing him, too.

His hand grips my waist, and I can feel his fingers slide under the red silk strap of my panties peeking out, winding his hand once in the fabric like he’s getting ready to yank it off.

My pussy throbs at the thought. His tongue is hot and demanding, flicking in my mouth and playing with my own, and when he pulls back just a hair to nibble my bottom lip, I shift on my tiptoes, feeling the warm slickness ache between my legs.

Oh, God.

He moves from my lips to my cheeks, leaving kisses along my jaw and back down to my neck. I can only arch it to give him free rein.

And I smile on the inside. He does want this. He wants me.

My skin buzzes, the hair rising on my arms, and I break out in chills at the feel of his hands starting to explore as much as his mouth.

I press my ass into his groin and feel the ridge of his cock, hard and tempting. He pulls his mouth away, groaning at my nudge.

“Jordan,” he gasps, his eyes closed and brows etched in pain. “Fuck, we can’t do this.”

I turn around, arching up on my tiptoes and matching my forehead to his with my hands at his waist. “I know,” I say. “I know.”

God, why did this have to happen?

I hover over his lips, feeling for them as his warm breath makes me want to wrap myself up inside of him. “I know,” I whisper again. “I ruined it, didn’t I?”

We’re victims of circumstance. At least I can feel confident that I would’ve liked him no matter what. If he were any other guy who came into my bar, sat down, and talked to me, I would’ve wanted him. He can be gruff, and he’s way out of practice dealing with people, but I’m happy around him, and I like that the only thing he seems to need from me is my presence. He’s happier with me here.

“You need to not fight me, okay?” I tell him. “I’ll go to my sister’s tomorrow, and I’ll be more than fine. You don’t have to worry about me. I never should’ve stayed—”

Suddenly, though, he grabs the backs of my thighs and lifts me up, forcing my legs to wrap around him. Planting me against the wall, he peers up at me and shakes his head. “You’re not going anywhere.”

And then he darts in, capturing the underside of my chin in his mouth. I gasp, my head falling back and my lids closing, as he bites and kisses, sending tingles down my arms.

I grip his shoulders and give in, squirming against him and craving the friction of him between my legs.

One of his arms holds me up while the other trails to my bra strap, pulling it down, so he can kiss the skin on my shoulder.

I pant, desperate. “Take it off. Please.”

His hand goes to my back, but instead of unhooking me, he yanks at the strap and pulls it down. I’m only bare for a moment, though, before we both hear a door slam inside the house and startle.

“Dad?” Cole calls. “You up?”

“Shit,” Pike hisses under his breath.

“Oh, God.” I squirm out of his hold, and he releases me. I dive down, gathering up my shirt and shoes again, holding them up to cover myself. I see the kitchen light pop on through the back door, and I swing around the side of the house, hiding just out of sight.

My heart is pounding in my ears, and I can’t swallow. I peer around the corner at Pike, and he’s looking around like he’s not sure what to do, but he finally grabs the hose, still running water, and continues washing off his already clean arms and hands.

“Yeah, out here!” he calls, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

I hear the screen door creak open, and I slink back, making sure I’m out of sight.