by Layla Hagen
I licked her nipple once, smiling when she jerked back on instinct, just out of my reach. I needed her in another position: more at my mercy. Like this, sitting at the edge of the bed, she could get away too easily. She looked up at me with a hint of shyness.
“You’re beautiful, Heather.”
I stayed where I was, a good two feet away from the bed, drinking in every part of her. When our gazes locked, she licked her lower lip.
“You like watching me get naked?” I asked.
“Might be among my top ten favorite views.”
I laughed, stalking toward her.
“Top ten, huh? Not even top three?”
She rolled her eyes playfully, running her hand down my chest, making a circle around my navel before lowering her hand even more.
“We have to be quiet,” she murmured.
I gripped the headboard when she wrapped her hand around my cock, circling around the crown with her thumb before tracing that same path with her tongue.
“Fuck!” I hadn’t expected it to be so intense. Everything was heightened with Heather. When she looked up at me, I just wanted to bury myself inside her, but instead I let her take charge... for now.
She took me in her mouth, slow and deep. Fuck. Fuck. I was going to splinter the wood or sprain my hand if I gripped the headboard any tighter. I was breathing in through my nose, out through my mouth, pacing myself. Pulling back, she licked up from the base, going slowly, driving me crazy. When she pressed the flat of her tongue against it, I dropped my head back, groaning. She clamped her lips tight around my cock, and on instinct, I moved my hips back and forth, watching her. Her eyes glinted playfully as she gripped the base of my cock with one hand, my ass with the other. Her nails pressed into my skin. She moved her mouth up and down, slowly and then faster, increasing the rhythm. Energy shot through me. Fuck. I ran one hand through her hair before fisting it.
Leaning to one side, I reached between her legs. When I traced my fingers down her pussy, realizing how wet she was from having her mouth on me, I nearly lost my mind. I circled her clit slowly, until she grasped the sheet with her free hand. Her moans reverberated against my cock, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.
“Babe!” I groaned, pulling out slowly. I pushed her back on the bed, spreading her legs, leaning over her. I moved my mouth up one inner thigh while dragging my fingers up the other one. Her skin turned sensitive everywhere I touched or licked.
When I pressed my tongue flat against her clit, I heard her swallow hard, felt the muscles in her belly contract in anticipation.
“Rykeeeer.”
I held her thighs firmly, watching her come apart with every lash of my tongue, until her thighs were shaking.
“Please, please,” she whispered.
I moved my mouth up on her body in a slow, lazy rhythm. She writhed under me in protest.
“Ryker, touch me. Please.”
Smiling against her skin, I touched two fingers to her clit, applying pressure again. Damn, it was a fucking privilege to feel her come apart, to wring every drop of pleasure from her.
I wanted to be etched so deep in her body and her mind that there was no place for any man except me. I needed to be important to her. I kissed up her neck, groaning when my cock rubbed against her stomach. Pulling back, I positioned the tip at her entrance. She pulsed around me the second I slid inside. Her eyes widened, as if she wasn’t expecting this any more than I did.
“Let go, beautiful. I want to feel you come,” I urged, sliding in deeper, faster. She was so turned on from our foreplay that I knew it wouldn’t take much to push her over the edge. My pelvis pushed against her clit on every thrust. She grew tighter, and then tighter still, and then she came hard, tugging at the sheets. A shot of pleasure rippled through me, so intense that I buckled over her, nearly crushing her. Fuck, no.
I pulled out, pacing myself, waiting for her to regain her breath, kissing her breasts and neck before I hooked my elbows under her knees, lifting her legs up.
She gasped in surprise, but that didn’t keep her from surrendering to me just the way I wanted her.
I smiled when she reached a hand between us, gripping my cock, bringing it closer to her pussy. I drove inside her the next second. She gasped, thrusting her hips upward. I was deeper inside her than before and knew this was so intense for her that she wouldn’t last long. Fuck, it was intense for me too. She clenched around me on every thrust.
I placed one of her legs back on the bed. She had more leverage like this, and I had a free hand. I could touch her. I teased a nipple before lowering my hand. I loved that damp skin, her cries of pleasure—they were all because of me. They were for me. I rested my palm on her pubis to increase the pressure while nudging her clit with my thumb.
“I love feeling you so tight around me, so close,” I said. “I love you.”
“Ryker, I’m going to...” Her words were completely lost in her cry of pleasure. I couldn’t last one second longer. This was so intense that I could barely think, barely breathe through the pleasure, and when she grabbed the headboard with both hands, squeezing her inner muscles even tighter, I let go completely.
“Fuuuuuck.” My vision faded at the corners. I shut my eyes, wanting to block out everything except how damn intense this felt. Pleasure zipped through me with a savage intensity. I kept thrusting, even though every muscle burned and tightened. After I was completely done for, I buckled forward, resting my forehead on the pillow, still inside her, unwilling to sever our connection.
“Wow,” she whispered.
“Yeah. Wow.”
I rolled over next to her, laughing when she made a little sound of protest.
“We weren’t exactly quiet,” she said on a chuckle. “But the walls are thick. We’re good.”
I turned on one side, just looking at her before reaching out and drawing my fingers up and down her stomach.
“Heather, I meant what I said earlier. I love you.”
I caught her smile before she rolled over, hiding her face in my chest. “I’m not saying it just because you’re saying it, but I love you too.”
“And you’re scared about it.”
She pulled back, looking up at me. “A little.”
“Don’t be.”
“You’re not allowing me?”
“Damn right, I’m not.”
“Wow. That’s impressive.”
“So it’s working.”
She grinned. “I’d say you’re on the right path.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ryker
Heather and Avery came to my apartment the following week. I realized within a few hours that my place was boring as hell for a kid, so I made plans to take them shopping on Saturday.
As I prepared to leave my office on Friday evening, Owen knocked at the door. “Got a minute?”
“Sure.”
“A reporter might contact you. Hank Dawson.”
I stopped in the act of shutting of my computer. “He already tried to approach me. What’s his deal?”
“I contacted him. Thought it wouldn’t be bad to have various publications on top of this. He wants to write a story on this.”
“I’m not talking to him.”
“He can write the article even without your contribution.”
“You know Heather’s taken a risk by writing a piece that paints us in a positive light, right? The least you can do is make sure it’s exclusive.”
“We all take risks.”
“This is bullshit, Owen, and you know it.”
“I see what’s going on. This isn’t strictly professional for you, is it?”
“Heather and I are dating, but that’s none of your business.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets, shaking his head. “Maybe not, but the people who make it on top in this business are the ones for whom work comes first.”
“Then get to the age of fifty and take trophy wives twenty years younger. I don’t need advice on that topic.”
I didn
’t give him a chance to say anything else, just shut off my laptop and walked straight past him. I was still furious by the time I was out of the building.
I dropped by my sisters’ store. I’d possibly done it out of instinct, because I hadn’t heard from them in a few days. I expected to see my sisters inside, either huddled over their laptops at the counter or arranging merchandise on shelves, as usual.
I had not expected to see the store closed. It was only seven o’clock in the evening. Their usual opening hours were until nine. Again, instinct told me something was wrong.
I took out my phone, calling Tess. It went straight to voicemail. Shit, what was happening? I called Skye next. She didn’t pick up, but at least it didn’t go to voicemail, so I tried again. The fourth time, she picked up.
“Ryker,” she greeted. “Sorry, I’d put it on silent.”
“Hi! I’m in front of your store.”
“Oh, we’re not there.”
“I figured that out. How come?”
Skye didn’t answer. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to summon some of that calm I was so known for.
“We’ve decided to cut the opening hours shorter. We’re both so tired, and we need to rethink some things.”
“What happened?”
Again, silence. It was freaking me out. Skye had two modes: dragon mode or pacifier mode. Silence meant she was in so much trouble that she had no idea how to get out.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“At Tess’s place.”
“I can come over.”
“I have a better idea. I’ll meet you in the city. Being inside isn’t helping.”
“Okay. Is Tess coming too?”
“Nah. She’s asleep. Don’t want to wake her up.”
“She’s sleeping at 7:00 p.m.? Skye, what’s happening?” I pressed my forehead against the cool window.
“It’s been a rough week.”
“Rough how? Can I help?”
More silence.
“Skye, what’s wrong? This isn’t like you.”
“The investor we were talking with decided not to work with us anymore.”
I clasped my phone tightly, balled the other hand in a fist.
“Shit. Anything else?” It was more of a rhetorical question, but I braced myself when Skye exhaled sharply.
“The guy I was dating said I was a buzzkill and no fun, and he didn’t need that in his life.”
“He just told you that after you’ve had one of the roughest weeks ever?”
“Yes. So I’ve been a bit out of sorts. Tess has dealt with a bunch of paperwork all by herself, and now she’s exhausted.” Her voice wobbled on every third word. I prided myself on being a relaxed, take-life-as-it-comes guy. I’d been that way for as long as I could remember, and my strategy had helped me deal even under stress. That strategy didn’t work when shit hit the fan in the family. I went from being calm to wanting to punch the window in front of me.
“Where do you want to meet?” I asked.
“The viewing deck on the Empire State?”
My sister loved viewing decks. She always had.
“Sure. I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“Ryker, you don’t have to do this,” she said, almost as an afterthought. “I’m a big girl.”
“Still my sister. Come on, don’t argue with me. Just meet me there.”
She chuckled. “Yes, sir.”
After hanging up, I ordered an Uber. On the way to the building, I tried to calm down. The problem with being in a rage was that I couldn’t think clearly. It was the reason why I’d lasted so long on Wall Street, why I was so good at what I was doing. I compartmentalized anger and fear easily to focus on finding solutions. But I couldn’t compartmentalize jack shit when it came to family... or Heather. I was still processing my conversation with Owen, trying to foresee the ramifications of his decision and any preemptive measures I could take, anything to protect Heather. I was far too upset to come up with anything.
After buying my ticket, I went to the deck. Skye had texted me that she was already there, and I spotted her immediately. Years ago, it used to be very crowded, but now there were so many viewing decks in New York that you actually had some space to move around here, admire the view. It was still a major tourist attraction, but it wasn’t too full currently.
“Remember the first time we came here?” Skye asked.
I chuckled. “Yeah. Gave Mom a scare and we were grounded for a month.”
“It was worth it though.”
“Every minute of it.”
We’d just moved to New York, and we were dying to explore the city. Skye had pleaded with all of us to come here.
So one evening, when Mom was supposed to be working late, we’d all snuck out here. Once we found a corner to ourselves, we celebrated by drinking soda from the cans we’d brought.
We made a pact. It was a silly, childish adventure, but the memory was branded in my mind. We’d promised to always stick together, have each other’s backs. I remembered feeling all powerful and protective... right until the police showed up. Someone had reported four minors to the authorities. They escorted us back home. Mom was in tears when we arrived. She’d left work earlier than anticipated and had panicked when she’d found the house empty.
We made another pact the very next day: not to give Mom more headaches. She’d had enough on her plate already.
Glancing at Skye, I was trying to decide the best course of action. My goal was simple: get her to let me help. Amazing how I could decide over million-dollar portfolios in a matter of minutes by only factoring in several key performance indicators, but despite knowing Skye my entire life, I still couldn’t tell what strategy would work best. Women were complicated.
“You do remember the pact, right?” I asked.
“The one where we promised not to give Mom any more headaches?”
“No, the one before.”
She elbowed me, grinning. “Of course I do. Our family lives by rules, pacts, and policies.”
I’d found my angle.
“You and Tess always hold the no-secrets policy over my head. I’m going to pull the brother card here. We made a pact. Always look out for each other. I want to cash in on it.”
She smiled, touching my cheek. “You do that constantly. Remember all those shelves you put up?”
“I’m serious, Skye. Investors are my job—”
She dropped her chin to her chest. “Jeez, you’re stubborn. We told you that we don’t want you to risk your reputation with us.”
“I don’t give a damn about my reputation. You’re my sisters.”
“What exactly would you like to do?”
“I can get you a bunch of investors.”
“No, no. That’s a surefire way to get people to whisper that you’re doing deals for your family. Just protecting you from yourself, little bro. You’re impulsive and headstrong, and sometimes you don’t weigh all the risks when you want something. Especially when that something is family related.”
I glared at her. “I hate it when you’re right. In my defense, I only shot myself in the foot once. And I was sixteen.”
“And that time you were twenty-three. And that other time last year.”
I threw my head back, laughing. “Okay, okay. Point made.” On a serious note, I added, “I just don’t want to see you two struggle.”
She leaned closer, smiling. “We won’t struggle forever. All beginnings are hard, right?”
I said nothing. Skye poked my arm.
“Back me up. I’ve made a mile-long list of motivational quotes. I need you to approve every single one of them.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Tess and I will regroup, okay? Don’t worry that much. It’s just been a very rough week.”
“I didn’t know you and that guy were so serious,” I blurted.
“We weren’t.” She looked in the distance, frowning. “I mean, you know I’m laid back about these things, but I didn’t thi
nk he was going to just run off when things got a little rough.” Her voice was small. I hated it, and what I hated even more was that I couldn’t do anything about it.
A beeping sound came from her bag. Skye rummaged through it, taking out her phone.
“Tess woke up and texted me.” She looked up at me, eyes wide, as if she’d suddenly had an idea. I braced myself but made an inner promise to just go along with whatever she wanted, because tonight was all about Skye.
“How much do you love us?” she asked, batting her eyelashes.
“Very much.”
“Enough to go with us to an outdoor movie screening? Tess said they’re showing Gone with the Wind in Central Park.”
I really didn’t have a choice. At least it wasn’t a museum.
“I’ll do one better. Why don’t we call Cole too? We’ll make a party out of it.”
Skye grinned from ear to ear. “My favorite people in the world and a movie screening? I can’t say no to that.”
I was banking on it. We made a beeline to the elevator, but I waited to call Cole until we were back out on the street again. The wind on the deck was too strong to have a phone conversation.
While Skye ordered an Uber, I called my brother.
“What are you up to?” I asked the second he picked up.
“Nothing.”
“Can you meet me, Skye, and Tess in Central Park?”
“Sure. What happened?”
One of the things I loved about my family? We could tell when something was off before the other even spelled it out. Walking a few steps away from Skye, I filled Cole in quickly.
“That motherfucker.”
“Which one? The investor or Skye’s guy?”
“Both. Who are they?”
“I don’t know.”
“They screwed with our sisters. We need their names.”
“Cole. Central Park. Twenty minutes. Don’t bring up the topic at all. Just managed to stop Skye from beating herself up.”
Cole was my opposite in many ways... except when it came to impulsiveness. Growing up, we’d competed in who was the most hot-headed, as if we were trying to win a medal for it. Luckily, our sisters had tempered us down. They were successful... most of the time.
Unlike the Empire State Deck, Central Park was crawling with people. Despite the vastness of the place, the perimeter of the movie screening was claustrophobic. But a deal was a deal, and Skye already looked more cheerful.