Fearless Like Us

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Fearless Like Us Page 10

by Krista Ritchie


  I break from his lips to catch my breath.

  But he doesn’t stop the barrage of kisses against my jaw, then my neck. His mouth brushes lightly over my nipple. I squirm and writhe under him.

  And then I tilt my head to the side and see Banks. He watches with heady arousal, his hand lost beneath the waistband of his drawstring pants. Massaging himself as he watches Kits thrust harder against me.

  “Fuck,” I rasp, shaking. Turned on beyond belief. I remember losing my virginity. How Banks stretched my legs open. How my body was in his care while Akara went deep, and I almost wish he’d grab my ankle.

  I’m sure they can tell I ache for more. But right when I’m about to ask, Akara kisses me lightly on my lips.

  An endnote.

  He leaves me breathless on the mattress. I stare up at the ceiling.

  “Sulli?” Kits asks in concern.

  “I’m good,” I muster before sitting up to face them, winded. “The game is still on.” I am not a fucking quitter. Not even if my body is screaming at me to forget spin the bottle and go straight to harder, deeper pleasure. “Who’s turn is it?” I ask. Fuck, I’ve forgotten.

  “Mine,” Akara says the same time his phone chimes.

  Oh no.

  Banks and I give each other a look.

  Akara rolls his eyes at us. “I’m not stopping the game for a phone call…” He stares harder at his cell that lies across the room on my dresser. The next chime turns into a ring, ring, ring. Until the ringing stops.

  And then starts up again.

  Akara curses under his breath as he climbs off the bed. “I’m coming back,” he says before crossing the bedroom.

  Banks is tall enough sitting that he extends an arm over the top of the iron headboard. Both of us watching Akara click into his phone.

  “Everything okay?” I ask.

  “Yeah, but I have to take this.” Akara expels a stressed breath.

  “Who is it?” Banks asks.

  “Your dad,” Akara replies.

  Michael Moretti is calling him? He works for Akara now and trains the temp bodyguards.

  Banks’ face screws up. “You can hang up on him, man.”

  “I can’t, Banks. I need him to know this company is everything to me. If he leaves for any reason, I’m fucked.”

  I cringe, feeling badly for setting the stakes so high. Akara’s responsibilities outpace ours by a hundred miles. “We can just say we paused the game. You don’t have to take the L,” I tell him.

  He pushes back his hair. “I don’t know when I’ll be coming back, Sul. It’s fine. I lost fairly.” He doesn’t give me a chance to argue. Akara leaves the bedroom completely, shutting the door quickly behind him.

  Banks and I lock eyes across the bed.

  I pick at the quilt. “Game over, I guess?” I say, uncertain.

  His soft smile peeks. “I don’t need a game to kiss you, if you want to be kissed.”

  “You know I do.” I smile more, then glance hesitantly at the door. We haven’t really talked about rules, but I just want to be fair. “Whatever we do here, I’ll do with Akara when he gets back.”

  Banks nods, understanding.

  I scoot closer until I take Akara’s seat shoulder-to-shoulder with Banks. Right up against the headboard, a cupcake pillow snug behind me.

  His arm falls around my shoulder, holding me to his side. Our eyes graze each other in the quiet, and my skin still tingles from their teasing. His fingers drift along my cheek, lifting my chin, and our lips touch with sultriness that feeds greater cravings.

  I grip his thigh, and he holds my face like I might disappear. The kiss is desperation and life and love, and I never want to leave.

  Banks slides my leg over his leg, and he pulls me onto his lap. I barely have time to clutch his shoulders as he draws us further down the bed and rests my back on the mattress.

  Oh fuck yes.

  He’s on top, cocooning me. The beat of my pulse matches my shortened breath. He breaks my legs open around his waist, and I accidentally kick the book and the bottle off the bed. I hear the shatter of glass, and our heads turn slightly but neither of us pull away.

  Our eyes trace our lips, and I whisper, “I really love being this close to you.”

  “Me too.” He stares down at me like I’m the most attractive thing in the sea. I’m drowning in a pool of attraction and yearning and overwhelming feelings.

  His hand slides up my thigh, his lips nuzzled against the nape of my neck. He touches the sensitive skin, and I shut my eyes in absolute heaven with him.

  “Banks,” I rasp, in need of more. I reach for his length, his hardness tenting his drawstring pants. I stroke him. A groan rumbles through him.

  And there is no thinking next, just total feelings as his lips meld against mine, as he breathes into the kiss like he’s breathing life into my lungs. As he sheds my top and bottom, as I tug at his clothing until it’s all gone.

  Naked, our flesh welds and heats me, and I ache and whimper for more. I’m floating into his muscular build, into his arms, into his embrace, into his care and experience and affection.

  I breathe against his mouth, “I need you…in me, please.” He’s right there. His erection is nudging against my heat. My legs are open around him. He even clutches my thigh, spreading me further, and I watch how he soaks in our bodies. I feel utterly fucking vulnerable, but also so safe.

  Like he’s one of two people on this earth meant to connect with me.

  “You sure you want to?” Banks asks, studying me.

  I clutch his hair. “Yes, fuck, please,” I nearly cry out.

  He kisses me quickly, then climbs off.

  “Banks?”

  “I have to get a condom.”

  Right. Fuck.

  I check him out while he stands. He’s tall, sculpted and masculine, but Banks has a gentleness and light in his eyes that I hold on to even more. He’s back in a blink after rummaging in my dresser. We put those condoms there “just in case” for a time like this, but we’ve always been a little too cautious. Afraid my roommates would find out about us.

  But now, they already know.

  “You want under the covers?” Banks asks, climbing back on.

  I realize I’m shivering.

  “Yeah.”

  He whips the quilt. I slip under. He climbs back on top of me, his hands traveling over the length of my legs as he stretches them wider. And then he pulls the quilt over us.

  Heat gathers, and his hand roots to a spot above my head. His other hand sheaths his length with the condom.

  My eyes widen. He’s so fucking hard. And big.

  Really, really fucking big, and I almost can’t believe he’s been inside of me before.

  While hovered over me, his dog tags hang off his neck, the metal brushing against my collarbone. This’ll be my first time having sex on a bed, and I still find myself forgetting to move my hands. They mostly stay planted to his biceps.

  Banks kisses me, then touches my pussy. Fuck ahh.

  I writhe as he massages my clit. “I…” I cry out already, toes starting to curl. “I have to already be…wet enough. Please.” I just want Banks in. I throb for him.

  “You’re very wet, mermaid.” His husky voice melts me. “But I’m gonna go down on you first.”

  Yes.

  Fuck yes…he’s buried further under the covers as he moves back, and I can’t see him as he lifts my legs over his shoulders. As he kisses the bundle of nerves. Holy…

  His tongue sucks and laps, and my hips buck up. Breath hitching, I see stars as I come with a cry.

  “Banks, Banks.” I reach under the quilt, gripping his shoulder for support. My legs quake, and somehow, someway, I hit another peak.

  He pops back up with a sexy noise in his throat, then we’re kissing vigorously. I hold on to him for dear fucking life while he curves my leg towards my chest, pulling it higher.

  “If it hurts, say stop,” he breathes.

  “I will,” I ra
sp.

  Our eyes stay attached the whole time he edges closer. He reaches down, guiding himself gently into me.

  I let out a gasp, the pressure overwhelming at first. “Fuck.”

  “Alright?”

  “How far…are you in?”

  “Not far.”

  I nod to him. “Go, go.”

  He inches more, and I contract around him. Banks grunts a little, his gaze consuming me as much as I just want to devour him in one fucking gulp. But I can’t take him that fast.

  He inches more and more, then rocks a little. The friction is mind-numbing. I’m so swollen from all the teasing beforehand, and my eyes nearly roll. My fingers dig into his shoulders.

  And then he stops moving.

  “Banks?” I instinctively arch up my hips, but he grabs my waist, keeping me still.

  “You’re so fucking tight, Sulli,” he says huskily. “If I go any further, I might hurt you, and if I move back and forth, I’m gonna come.”

  “Come then.”

  He shakes his head. “Not yet. I want this to last…” The look in his eyes starts to well something up in mine.

  “Can we stay…just like this?” I ask. With him inside of me.

  He nods. “Just like this.”

  We must be dreaming because the longer we’re just like this, the more I feel his cock twitch inside of me. The more I pulse around him. For a moment, I pretend we’re together on an island.

  In nature.

  Where it’s safest.

  Unable to take it anymore, he thrusts in and out. In and out, and I cry so loud, he plants a hand over my mouth. His muscles flex against me as he hits a climax.

  As our breaths come down, he kisses me, then gently pulls out. After tossing the condom and wrapping me up in his chest, I glance over at the door. Half expecting Akara to be back.

  Should we have waited?

  Was this wrong?

  But it felt right.

  “Sulli?” Banks asks in concern. “What’s wrong?”

  I’m about to speak, but I yawn, totally wiped. Probability that I’ll fall asleep before Akara comes back is astronomically high, but I’ll defeat sleep for him. I’ll rise into his arms. “Nothing…just, when Akara comes back, can you tell him to wake me up? He can have a turn too…” I might not have phrased that right, but whatever the fuck.

  I don’t care.

  I’m spent.

  I love being in Banks arms, and I’d love just as much to be in Akara’s if he were here.

  “I’ll wait up for him,” Banks breathes. “Get some sleep.”

  I nod as I shut my eyes. “I really love you, you know that, Banks?”

  The last thing I hear is, “I really love you too, mermaid.” And then everything fades into a peaceful slumber.

  12

  BANKS MORETTI

  The door opens slowly, a sliver of light illuminating the dark room. Sulli remains passed out in my arms, but I carefully sit up in bed as Akara slips inside.

  My eyes adjust to the dark as soon as he shuts the door, but I can’t figure out how to adjust the metaphorical weight crushing my chest. Guilt. Don’t know that fucker that well. But it’s currently riding me like a coked-out cowboy. I’m just the dumb horse that can’t buck it off.

  I swept the glass up earlier, so I don’t warn him about the broken bottle as he moves closer. Floor is clean.

  Akara gently climbs into bed on the other side of Sulli. He doesn’t acknowledge me until he checks underneath the turquoise quilt and white sheets, confirming that she’s naked. I’m naked.

  Then his eyes lift to mine.

  “Akara—” I whisper.

  He interrupts in a soft tone, “Stop looking at me like that. It’s fine, Banks.”

  “I should’ve asked or waited—”

  “No,” he refutes quickly. “Because when I get the chance, I’m definitely not asking you or waiting. And if we’re being honest with each other, I’d probably feel less guilty if I were in your position. So who’s the real jerk?”

  I shake my head, “Not you.”

  Akara lets out a soft sound, an almost-laugh. “You’re wholesome, a good son. Looking back, I made your brother be the bad cop so I could pretend to be nice—”

  “You didn’t make Thatcher do shit,” I whisper. “He’s stringent and prickly. He knows he’s prickly. You’re good at being friendly with your men because you aren’t a fucking cactus like my lovably cactus-y brother.”

  Akara tries to smile, but he looks to Sulli, then back at the phone in his fist. “I’m just hanging on, Banks.” He sighs heavily. “The only certainty I have right now is you and her.”

  I squeeze his shoulder. Everything is starting to slip around Akara, and the financial tolls he’s taking, I won’t understand. I can’t. But I’m the guy ready to move out whenever he calls. Whenever he needs me, I’m there.

  As we share the quiet, he asks me, “Did it hurt her the second time with you inside her?”

  I shake my head. “I didn’t go that far in.”

  Akara nods a couple times, then says, “I don’t expect the two of us to always be together when she’s turned on.” He exhales an annoyed breath. “Can’t really lie, I hate that I missed this.”

  I whisper back, “She told me to wake her up when you got here. So you could have a turn. Her words.”

  “So I could have a turn,” he repeats with a shocked laugh. “My improper lady.” He smiles a little but shakes his head. “No, we’ll have our time together later. Let her sleep.” He exhales another deep breath like he’s shedding today’s stresses.

  I don’t know how that phone call with my dad went, but I don’t ask. Avoiding the topic of Michael Moretti has been the name of the game, and I’m not fumbling that ball tonight.

  More seems to be weighing on him, though. “You alright?”

  Sulli doesn’t even stir between us, out cold. Don’t blame her. Strange to think today started with a rock climb and her dad’s anger.

  Akara glances to Sulli, then stares at the ceiling. “I missed out on sex with Sulli because of a phone call with your dad, and I can’t even fudging curse about it.”

  Can’t help it. I laugh.

  He gives me a look with a fraction of a smile. “It’s not fudging funny.”

  “A year of that and you’re gonna give me a permanent side-cramp from all the laughing.”

  His smile remains as he says, “Can we make a deal?”

  “Anything.”

  “You’re not even going to wait for the terms?”

  “For you, I’d do just about anything.” I tilt my head, letting it sag to the side to meet his eyes. “Alright, probably anything.”

  Akara takes that in for a long moment. Silence ebbs and flows between us, an acknowledgement of what we mean to each other. What we’re growing to mean.

  “If one of us has sex with her when the other isn’t around,” Akara says. “We tell each other about it. Let’s not keep it a secret. Jealousy isn’t here right now, but I think it’d bother me if you two were hooking up on the regular and I didn’t know.”

  “Deal,” I say without hesitation. “And just so you know, I feel the same.”

  He pats my shoulder. “Good talk. Now get some rest. You have work tomorrow.”

  I scoot back down until my head hits the pillow. My mouth curves up, even as I say, “Yes, sir.”

  13

  BANKS MORETTI

  November sun beats down on the rooftop pool, making an otherwise chilly afternoon more enjoyable in Philly. I have the perfect view of Sulli as she swims laps back and forth with skill and ease. Like a majestic goddess of the sea.

  Truth: Akara should be the one up here. Instead, my ass is holding a net gun and watching out for a drone.

  He put me on Sulli’s detail when the Studio 9 manager called this morning. To quit.

  Now he’s working through a dumpster fire that I can’t help him extinguish. If this had been a security crisis, I’d have his six. No question. But
his gym—that business might as well be written in hieroglyphics. I don’t understand how it operates, and I have no desire to figure it out.

  It just blows because I want to give Akara equal time with Sulli, especially after her and I had sex last night, but I’m unsure how to do that when he keeps sidelining himself. I don’t control my schedule. He does.

  Sulli pops out of the water as I patrol the roof and squint through the bright sun. Thank Mary and fucking Joseph, I don’t have a migraine today. The light would be a knife to my temple.

  She pulls off her goggles and leans her arms on the poolside edge. “Any flying fuckers out there?”

  “Negative,” I say. “A shame too. I kind of wanted to use this.” I twirl the net gun in my hand.

  She smiles, beads of water rolling down her smooth skin. “I’m sure if I stay up here long enough some type of drone will fly in.”

  I crouch down to her spot. “Is that your way of saying you never want to come out of the water?” I think her next smile is at the sound of my South Philly accent on water. Sounded more like wooder.

  She makes no effort to climb out. “Depends. Would you live in the water with me?”

  “Day and night.” I stand up. “But I’m no mer-man. I’d probably sink to the bottom.”

  “I’d save you. No beefcake is dying on my watch.”

  I laugh into a smile. Beefcake. Looking her over, I notice her reddened cheeks and nose. “And no mermaid is getting burned on mine.” I grab the sunscreen, then come back and sit down near the edge of the pool. Right beside Sulli, who stays submerged.

  She watches me stretch my legs out on the stone patio. “You think Akara is okay?”

  I click my mic on my collar. “Banks to Akara, what’s your status?”

  He rogers up fast. “Akara to Banks, I just closed the gym until I can get a new manager. I’m on my way back to the penthouse.”

  “Copy that,” I say to him, and then to her, I say, “He’s on his way.”

  She breathes out in relief. “He works too much.”

  I nod. “He puts a lot of pressure on himself.”

 

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