She finished the bite of croissant she’d been chewing. “No. Why would I?”
“Fights. Hangover. Me.”
“Nah.” She gave me a sad smile. “I’m happy to have met you, Scotty Donahue.”
My fingers ached to bury themselves in her hair, tug until she stood, and pull her close. I didn’t move. “So I was right?”
“About what?” she asked softly.
“About you being drunk, and us being smart not to fuck last night.”
“I was pretty drunk. You were right about that much,” Skylar said slowly.
I should leave it at that. If I had any common sense, I would leave it at that. Nothing had changed since last night. I was still under orders to get intel from her, so she was still off-limits. “And the rest?”
“Well.” Her parted lips exhaled a soft breath, and her focus locked on my mouth. Warning bells went off in my head as my cock hardened. “Should I say what you want to hear, or the truth?”
I’ll take the lies. Definitely the lies. “The truth.”
Damn it.
“I barely got any sleep. I was restless. Achy. Empty. And every time I closed my eyes, I saw you.” She bit down on her lip sexily. Christ, kill me now. “You?”
Well, shit.
“I slept great,” I practically croaked out, cursing myself for instigating this, yet unable to resist, because that damn pull between us that she mentioned last night was strangling me to death. Carefully, clearly, I stepped back from her, putting a safe distance between us.
If such a thing as safe distance existed with her.
“Good,” she said, her voice cool. She stood. “Well, then, I’ll just call—”
“I want to be your friend, Skylar.”
She blinked. “What?”
“I know I said that we couldn’t be together, that I was bad for you, and all of that’s true.” He forced a smile. “But I like you, and I’d like to get to know you on a platonic level, if you’ll let me.”
“As friends,” she said slowly.
“Yes.”
“What about my brother?” she asked.
“What about him?” I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t see why he would mind us being friends.”
She licked her lips, the tip of her pink tongue leaving behind a trail of wetness that tempted me more than anything else ever had. “That sounds nice. I don’t have many of those, to be honest.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I mean, I’m in a sorority, so I have girls who care about me and all that. But we don’t really, you know . . . do things.” She held her hands out palm up, then awkwardly dropped them back to her sides. “We’re always studying, and when we’re not, they throw crazy parties that aren’t really my style. I’d rather . . . I don’t know. Go to the movies, and then a twenty-four-hour diner for coffee and discussion. Maybe go dancing, and then drive home in the middle of the night with the windows down, no matter how cold it is. Get stupid, but not be stupid. You know?”
No. Not really. Everything she mentioned sounded fairly tame to me, not stupid. But she seemed so intense, so very vulnerable, and I didn’t have the heart to burst her damn bubble. “Absolutely. You want me to get stupid with you,” I said slowly.
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” She let out a small laugh. “Maybe?”
“Well, I can do that.” I cocked my head. “I like to dance.”
“You do?” she asked, seeming surprised, rubbing her temple.
“Yeah. Sure.” I frowned. “Does it hurt a lot?”
“Yeah.” She gave me a weak smile and tugged on her dress. “And, to be honest, this dress is squeezing me, and making breathing difficult on top of it all. I’d kill for a pair of sweats and a regular T-shirt.”
“No killing necessary.” I spun my finger in a circle. “Let’s get you out of those clothes.”
“What?” she said, blinking at me. “Why?”
I grinned. “For a shower. It’ll make your head feel better, and you’ll be out of that dress, which’ll help, too. While you’re in there, I’ll grab you some Motrin. When I get headaches a hot shower and a few painkillers usually do the trick. And you can borrow a shirt if you want. I might even have a pair of sweatpants for you—I accidentally bought a size too small the other day, and didn’t return them yet. They’ll be big, but with a drawstring, it’ll work.”
“Oh.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Are you sure? I can just shower at my place once I’m home. It’s not that bad.”
“I refuse to let you be in pain when I can help. Especially when it’s my fault that you’re suffering. I never should have bought you that last drink.” I spun her around gently, efficiently undoing the latch on her dress. I was a pro at it now. As I unzipped her, I made sure to keep my fingers off her skin. I could only resist so much temptation in one day. I walked a fine line here. I had to flirt with her enough to keep her around, but not so much that we ended up in bed naked. Considering my immense attraction to her . . . I was pretty much fucked. “There. Off you go. I’ll grab those clothes while you wash up.”
She glanced at me over her shoulder, her blue eyes blazing with a hunger my body recognized all too damn well. My cock strained against my pants, demanding I take what she offered. “Thank you.”
“Yep. Upstairs. Last door on the right.”
Skylar nodded, walking away, clutching the dress to her chest, letting it fall down a bit as she walked. I got a glimpse of bare skin and sheer satin panties, and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t look away. I watched her head toward the stairs and gave a long groan once she rounded the corner. When the shower turned on, I let out a string of curses and glowered at my rebelliously hard cock. I reached down and adjusted my pants, trying to ease the pressure, but it didn’t help.
Only one thing would . . .
But I wasn’t gonna do it.
I pictured her taking her dress off, unstrapping her black bra, her breasts bouncing free once she let it hit the floor . . . and groaned again, my cock throbbing even more than before.
“Son of a bitch.”
Knowing the desire wasn’t going to get any better unless I did something about it, I undid my pants, went into the half bath, and left the door cracked so I could listen for any hint of trouble. Right now, above me, Skylar was naked and letting the water wash over her as she closed her eyes, pink lips parted. My breath quickened, and I slid my pants down enough to get a good grip on my erection. I needed to take away the harsh edges of the lust killing me.
Needed some damn relief.
Lowering my lids, I pictured her standing under the hot water, beads of liquid rolling down her hard nipples and in between her legs as she slipped her hand into her folds, touching herself like I touched myself right now. Groaning, I squeezed my cock, and tugged harder, rolling my fist over the head as my breath came faster and I—
A gasp sounded outside the bathroom, and I froze, knowing my luck couldn’t be that bad, and yet somehow also knowing it was. With my cock still in my hand, I slowly lifted my head, and I met the horrified gaze of Skylar Daniels through the small opening of the door I’d stupidly left open so I could keep an ear out for trouble.
Motherfucker.
CHAPTER 8
SKYLAR
“Oh my God,” I breathed, clutching my dress to my chest, staring at the vision that was Scotty Donahue, jerking off. He held his erection in one hand, and the other palm rested on the wall in front of him. I rotated my fist on the dress I held to my breasts to protect my modesty. I felt naked without my bra and panties on, but I’d been about to step in the shower when I realized I didn’t have a towel. Hence returning downstairs.
To find this.
He had his pants unzipped. His hand was wrapped around his penis, but that didn’t stop me from seeing how hard it was . . . or how huge. I was so caught up in
staring at him that when he moved, I jumped, forgetting to hold my dress in place. “Oh my . . .” I bent down, cheeks burning, and yanked my dress up. “Sorry. So sorry.”
His gaze slowly lifted from my body, which I’d covered up again, but it didn’t feel like I’d pulled my dress back up. The heat in his eyes, and the muscle ticking by his jaw, made me feel more naked than before. Breathing heavily, he came through the door angrily. “Why did you come down?”
“I needed . . .” I started, cutting off when he curled his hand around the base of my neck, threading his fingers through my hair. “Scotty.”
He hauled me against his chest hard. “You shouldn’t have come back down here, Sky.”
I barely had a chance to register his words before everything changed. He—oh God—he lowered his face to mine, and he kissed me. But it wasn’t just a kiss. The second his mouth closed over mine, claiming me with nothing more than flesh touching flesh, it was like a lightning bolt shot through the sky, pierced the roof of the house, and struck me dead.
Electricity pulsed through my veins, and I clasped his arms as he backed me down the hallway, into the kitchen, and against the cabinet. I forgot about my dress for the second time. It hit the floor between us, and his hands were on my skin, skimming over my shoulders gently as he traced my skin. Down my arms, back up, over my ribs, until he closed his hands over my hips, grabbing my butt with a firm grip, his fingers digging into my skin.
He growled low in his throat, a primitive sound escaping him that claimed me just as much as his lips did. Effortlessly, he lifted me to the cool countertop, perching me on the edge as he slipped between my legs. I tensed, knowing where this was leading, and wanting it so freaking badly it hurt—but it didn’t stop the little niggling fear in the back of my mind. With Scotty, I was out of my league, as he was clearly more experienced than I was.
What was I doing?
Despite the way I came on to him last night, I wasn’t usually the one who instigated flirtation, let alone this. He pressed his erection against me, rubbing up against a spot that sent a surge of pleasure racing through my veins. I dug my nails into his arms, holding on for dear life as he slid his hands over my breasts, cupping them roughly as he dragged the side of his thumbnail over my nipples.
Pleasure—pure pleasure—puddled in my stomach, quickening my breath.
He thrust against my core, all the while squeezing the hard buds of my nipples between his fingers, making my world spin. I’d never felt so much, so fast, and to be honest, it was a bit overwhelming. I tore free, gasping in a deep breath, turning my head to the side. Without a word, Scotty dropped to his knees, putting his mouth to another use . . . one I’d only ever dreamt about at night.
Alone.
In my bed.
The second his tongue touched me, I screamed, burying my fingers in his hair and holding on tight. When he closed his mouth over me, rolling his tongue in a slow circle, I gasped and jerked away slightly, because the pleasure that he sent racing through my body was so intense, I lost control over myself. And I didn’t like losing control.
When I jerked away from him instinctively, he pulled back, frowning up at me. “Do you not like it when guys go down on you?”
I shook my head, then nodded, then shook my head again, knowing I wasn’t making any sense but past the point of caring. “I like. I like a lot.”
“Good. Because you taste like heaven,” he growled, spreading my legs apart even more as he buried his face in between my legs, his tongue touching places no tongue had touched before. And, oh my God, it was even better than I’d imagined.
He might think I tasted like heaven, but he brought me to heaven . . .
And that was so much better.
His fingers pressed my inner thighs, and I glanced down, breath quickening when I saw him there, kneeling between my legs, making me feel things I’d never felt before. And the fear I’d been feeling faded away to nothing, because if I was going to do this with someone—be uncharacteristically reckless like this—it had to be with Scotty.
It just felt right.
A raspy moan filled the room, and it took me a second to realize that it came from me. I arched my back, rocking my hips against him experimentally. Another moan escaped when I found out how freaking amazing that felt, and I did it again. Harder. Something inside me gathered really tightly in my stomach, radiating outward. He kept kissing me down there, making that pleasure tighten even more, until finally . . . bam.
It snapped.
I collapsed against the wall, breathing heavily, unable to put two thoughts together. But I was pretty sure this feeling rolling through my veins was the aftereffects of an orgasm—my very first one. And it was freaking incredible.
Breathing unevenly, I dragged a hand through my hair, laughing throatily. “Scotty.” A wrapper crinkled, and I lifted my lids in time to see him rolling a condom that came from who knows where over his erection. His pants were gone, and so were his boxers. A little bit of fear trickled back in. I shoved my hair out of my face, sucked in a deep breath, and figured if I was going to talk, it was now or never. “I don’t—”
“You’re so damn sexy, waiting for me to fuck you.” He wrapped his hand around the back of my neck again, pulling me close and resting his forehead on mine. “There are so many reasons I should stop right now, but I can’t. Not unless you tell me to. Do you want me to stop, Sky?”
Resting my hands on his shoulders, I breathed him in. His arms were strong around me, reassuring, and the way he cradled me, as if he was protecting me—even from himself—made any doubt I had shut up and slink away to the back of the room where it belonged. I lifted his head so his mouth was a breath away from mine, and whispered, “No, I don’t want you to stop. Kiss me.”
A strangled sound escaped him, and he closed the distance between us, his mouth claiming mine again. His tongue slipped between my parted lips, and I was pretty sure I tasted myself on him as he stepped between my legs again, hauling me so I almost hung off the counter edge. The tip of his erection touched me intimately, and I sucked in a deep breath.
“Sky . . .” He whispered that nickname against my lips, kissing me again, nipping at my lower lip just enough to hurt a little bit. “Hold on tight, sugar.”
I buried my hands in his hair, and nodded once.
Then he tilted me up, and slammed inside of me without another warning. A little bit of pleasure mixed with a lot of pain, and I cried out into his mouth. It felt like he’d ripped me in half, right in his kitchen, and with the size of him, some small part of me wondered if he had.
Scotty froze, his lips still pressed against mine, going hard. Slowly, he pulled back, his eyes narrow on me. “What the fuck was that?”
I forced a smile, and blinked back tears. Now that the initial pain was over, he didn’t feel so bad buried inside me. “Um . . . my hymen, I think?”
Murderous anger came over his expression, anger bringing color to his cheeks. “And you didn’t think that was something you should have told me?”
“No?” I lifted my chin. “Yes? Maybe?”
“Sky—”
“This changes nothing,” I said in a rush. “I wanted you, so I took you. End of story. It doesn’t matter how many, or how few, men I had before you, just like I don’t care how many women you had before me. It’s nothing.”
That muscle ticked again. “Bullshit. It damn well matters. Your first time should be special. It should be with someone you love. Not with . . . with . . .”
“You?”
He nodded once, not lifting his head. “Yeah. Not someone like me. I can’t offer you anything, Sky. Just this.” He tightened his grip on my legs. “This is all I have for you, and you deserve more, especially for your first time.”
“But I wanted you, just this once.” I cupped his cheeks, and he looked at me, his lips hard. “You’re sexy, and covered in tattoos, a
nd you make me want things no other man has made me want before. It’s not some deeper meaning, or some way of telling you I want to be with you forever. I felt an attraction to you, and I acted on it. No one has to know, and nothing has to change, but please don’t stop now. I’m dying to know what comes next.”
He pushed into me a bit, sweat coating his forehead. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” I said, kissing him.
At first he stood there, not kissing me back, but then he let out a tortured groan, and he took control. His mouth tilted over mine, and he pulled out of me, stopping just shy of leaving me completely. Then, with a pump of his hips, he drove inside again, sending an even more intense bolt of pleasure through me. There was still a little bit of discomfort, but the pleasure far outweighed the pain at this point.
I gasped, digging my nails into his shoulders, and strained to get closer.
He broke the kiss off, asking breathlessly, “Is that okay? Does it hurt?”
“No, it doesn’t hurt.” I shook him slightly, torn between being happy he was concerned for me and pissed that he kept stopping when all I wanted was for him to make me come again. I’d gotten a small taste of the pleasure he could give me, and I needed more. “Do it again. Harder.”
He nodded, swallowing, and moved inside me. “You’re so damn tight, Sky. So—shit.”
Something seemed to snap, and he growled as he pulled out, thrusting without mercy. He did that repeatedly, each time somehow managing to go deeper and harder. As I gasped for air and grasped for that peak of pleasure only he could give, he moved inside me, his hands roaming as he slammed into me, time and time again, driving me higher and higher until I wasn’t sure if he’d ever bring me back down—and that was freaking fine.
I strained against him, my whole body getting tenser with each stroke of his erection. He groaned and reached between us, resting his fingers over my sensitive flesh and exerting pressure there. As he thrust again, I screamed, because the combination of both pleasures sent me shooting into the sky like a firework. And then I exploded into a million lights.
Dare to Lie Page 7