Birthday Girl

“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.

“I know,” I say. “When you left the party with that little shit tonight, I was so pissed.” I bite her bottom lip between kisses. “Like I was fucking seventeen again and someone else was taking what was mine.”

My cock swells, and God, I can’t stop touching her. She’s so damn beautiful. Her smooth skin and mussed hair. The little triangle of red fabric between her legs where I can already see she wasn’t lying about being turned on. She’s wet, and I’m fucking starved to taste her.

Another man to do my job better…. Bullshit.

I brush the hair out of her face as she grinds on me, and we hold each other’s eyes. Hers say everything I’m feeling, and we’re both falling.

Dammit.

“What do you see in me, girl?” I ask, shaking my head. I couldn’t keep a nineteen-year-old woman happy when I was nineteen. Does she think I can do it now?