Scintillation (Stars Align Book 3)

by Kate Stacy

  “Never fear, my pretty. I’ll start signing onto your account so I can help you field the vile comments. But you have to promise me you’ll come to me if the ones you do end up seeing start getting to you again. You’re not alone, Presley.” He lets go of my left hand, moving his hand to my forearm. His fingertips move over the raised scars hidden beneath black ink. His actions speaking so much louder than his words. “Never alone.”

  “Promise.”

  “Good,” he says, his serious demeanor changing to something playful. He pushes himself from the floor, places both hands on his hips and cocks a brow. “I love you, my pretty, but you’re not normally someone I’d get on my knees for.”

  His saucy wink breaks the lingering tension.

  We both laugh before he gets somewhat serious again.

  “Now,” he says, clapping his hands. “We’re going to ignore this pesky thing for the rest of the night…” He slips my phone beneath the couch cushions and dusts off his hands. “Much better! As I was saying...we’re going to ignore that, take a couple more shots, and dance our gorgeous asses off.”

  He looks to me for approval and I nod, giving him the big smile he wants to see.

  “Alexa! Play Shake It Off by Taylor Swift.”

  As the song begins to play, Derrick grabs my hands, pulling me from the couch.

  We laugh and dance like no one’s watching.

  By the time the last verse ends, the comments are all but forgotten.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Adam

  Fucking Presley at the shop shouldn’t become a habit.

  I know this.

  I haven’t let that knowledge stop me though.

  She’s fucking irresistible on a normal day.

  When she’s relaxed in my chair, soaked with arousal and completely blissed out from the sting of my needles? A man only has so much fucking willpower.

  She looks up at me through thick, black lashes, her green eyes darkened with want.

  With one seemingly innocent look, she communicates every dirty little thing she wants me to do to her.

  What kind of man would I be to tell her no?

  Leaning over her, I rest my hands on the armrests of the chair, caging her in completely.

  I watch the way her chest rises and falls, her breath speeding up the closer I get.

  Sliding my palm up the soft skin of her thigh, I grin when her breath hitches.

  The way she responds to my touch is fucking addicting.

  I’ll never get enough.

  Foregoing my usual dirty talk, I watch her in silence as I slip her thong from her body. Her eyes widen when I slip the wet fabric into my pocket and I smile.

  Last time I worked on her ink, she got a happy ending she didn’t anticipate, but loved, nonetheless.

  I finished her thigh piece today.

  And this time we’re both going to leave this room a fuck of a lot happier than we entered.

  I proceed to strip her down, removing her clothing piece by piece until she’s nothing more than a spectacular view of skin and ink in my chair.

  Reaching over to the counter, I turn up the volume on the Bluetooth speaker, letting the voices of Hollywood Undead fill the room.

  Giving Presley my full attention, I take her mouth in a primal, possessive kiss as I move my hand to her center. I don’t waste time with teasing, she’s hot and dripping wet, so I plunge two fingers inside her. She moans into my mouth and I swallow it down.

  Her hands move to the hem of my shirt and she lifts it, forcing me to break the kiss as she pulls it over my head. I press my forehead to hers and watch the lust and pleasure swirl in her bright green eyes as I finger her tight pussy, crooking my fingers to hit the rough little spot that always sends her spiraling.

  “Please,” she whines, and I know exactly what she wants.

  I run my tongue across my bottom lip to tease her. “You want my tongue, Princess?”

  She doesn’t need to answer me. Presley loves my tongue almost as much as she loves my cock.

  Smirking at the way her body writhes in response, I lean down and suck one of her pretty pink nipples into my mouth. Her tits are more than a handful, but that doesn’t stop me from taking one in my hand and gripping tightly as I lavish her nipple with my teeth and tongue. I move my mouth to the other, pressing my hand down in the center of her chest to hold her still.

  The little whines and whimpers coming from her lips are enough to drive a man mad.

  Releasing her nipple with a loud pop, I lick a path down the middle of her body, not stopping until I swirl my tongue around her clit. Loving the way her moans grow louder with every flick of my tongue, I go at her hard, fingers and tongue working together to ensure that all she feels is me.

  Subconsciously, I hear the music track change and the lyrics to Levitate invade my mind as her walls start to tighten in short spasms around my fingers. I flatten my tongue against her clit, knowing it’s going to send her flying.

  Her fingernails rake over my shoulders as her back arches and her thighs clamp almost painfully around my head. I relish the fucking sting of her nails dragging across my skin, the strength she possesses when she’s high on me.

  I ease up as she starts to wind down.

  I’ve been so intently focused on Presley that I never heard the door to the room open.

  Her gasp reaches my ears at the same time as the voice behind me.

  “Christ...I’m sorry, man. Fuck...that was…”

  My eyes meet Presley’s and with one look—I know.

  I turn to face Cannon in time to see him backing out of the room.

  “Wait.”

  He stops in his tracks, trying not to look between Presley’s spread thighs. He fails, but I can’t blame him. It’s a beautiful fucking sight to see.

  I turn back to Presley, slowly easing my fingers in and out of her tight cunt.

  “You knew he was there, didn’t you, baby? You like when he watches?”

  I pick up my pace and the tight clench of her muscles around my fingers is the only answer I need.

  I grin knowingly. Pulling my fingers from her pussy, I slip them between her lips, groaning when her tongue swirls around them. Standing, I lean over her. Bending close to her ear, I keep my voice low, but loud enough for Cannon to hear, and I give her the permission she needs.

  “He can stay and watch if that’s what you want, Princess.”

  I trace the shell of her ear with my tongue, feeling her body tremble.

  “You want to be seen, baby? Here’s your chance.”

  I stand, pulling her up from the chair with me. Spinning us around, I take her place in the chair and pull her onto my lap facing me. I nip at her bottom lip and she mewls, grinding against me with her hands on my bare chest.

  My eyes flash to Cannon, who hasn’t moved from his position by the door. It’s wide open behind him, leaving the scene open to anyone who walks past. He watches us raptly, his eyes dark with lust.

  “Make a choice, Princess,” I demand. I slap her ass and spin her around on my lap to face him.

  Once her legs straddle mine, I palm the insides of her thighs to spread her wide open, giving Cannon a fully unobstructed view. I pull the lobe of her ear between my teeth and tug. “Tell him what you want.”

  “Stay.”

  He looks to me for permission.

  At my nod, he closes the door and leans against it, crossing one foot over the other as he adjusts the bulge in his jeans. Cannon has always been a voyeur. He enjoys sex as much as any other guy, but his favorite kink is watching. There’s nothing he loves more.

  When I realized Presley might enjoy a bit of exhibitionism, I’d thought to ask Cannon if he was interested, but I never got a chance.

  Today wasn’t planned, but I’m not disappointed about how it’s turning out.

  Noticing Cannon’s movement, Presley’s lips part and I grin.

  “Lift.” I tell her, swatting
her thigh.

  She lifts off me, giving me enough room to undo my jeans and pull my cock out. She looks over her shoulder, watching as I give myself a couple long strokes. Her eyes are glazed over, and I don’t have to feel her to know she’s still soaking wet.

  “Sit on my dick, Princess. Let’s show Cannon how you like to be fucked.”

  She puts up no protest, crying out as she sinks down on my cock, taking every hard inch all at once.

  A growl works its way up my throat, turning to a deep groan as her tight cunt stretches around my cock.

  I hold onto her hips but let her set the pace.

  She starts off slowly at first, giving her body time to adjust to my thickness.

  It’s not long before she’s fucking me hard and fast.

  She bounces on my lap, driving us both to the brink of insanity.

  Our breaths come out a little louder, punctuated every so often by a groan from one of us. Cannon’s groans echo ours, but I try not to pay him any mind. I know at this point he’s got his dick in his hand, jacking himself to the sight of Presley’s sexy body gyrating on top of mine.

  The knowledge hits deep, igniting a spark of possession inside of me.

  I push it down, focusing on Presley instead.

  She turns her head toward me and I kiss her from behind, our mouths colliding as I push my fingers down through her wet cunt. They slip against the base of my cock and I hold them there, enjoying the feel of my length moving in and out of her body. I slide them back up, swirling them around her clit in hard and fast circles. Her hips thrust toward my hand, riding the rhythm, her body trusting me to give it what it needs.

  I skim my palm across her hip, gliding it straight up the center of her body before wrapping it around the column of her throat. Pulling her back to my chest, I nip at the curve of her jaw as my eyes move to my friend across the room.

  The hold isn’t meant to deprive her of oxygen.

  It’s a display of possession.

  With one movement, I’ve staked my claim. Shown Cannon that she’s mine.

  I watch him as I command her.

  “Come for me.”

  Her body follows my command.

  Presley throws her head back as she falls over the edge in a body-shaking, earth-shattering orgasm.

  “Jesus, Princess. Look at you coming. So fucking hot,” I growl, powering into her.

  “Fuck, that’s beautiful,” Cannon rasps.

  Truer words have never been spoken, but the sound of Cannon’s voice in this moment grates my nerves.

  Presley’s tightening core is enough to keep me from lashing out. The force of her orgasm sets me off and I bury myself deep as I come in long, hot spurts.

  The primal part of me wants to pull out and let my release coat her cunt, a visual display of ownership for Cannon to see. It’s an urge I’ve never felt before and one that’s wholly unnecessary.

  My eyes meet Cannon’s as he tucks himself back into his jeans.

  He gives me a subtle nod and slips soundlessly from the room.

  He understands already.

  He knows now that this will never happen again.

  I can’t pinpoint the precise moment when everything changed, but somewhere in the middle of this, I was struck with the realization that it’s not something I could repeat.

  I gave her this experience because I know it’s something she secretly craved.

  Maybe a little of it was for Cannon, too, knowing he needed a reprieve from the way life has fucked him.

  It won’t happen again.

  I never want another man to see Presley like this.

  To experience her raw, naked beauty.

  The gorgeous way her body moves when she lets go.

  No one should ever lay eyes on the woman I love in her most vulnerable moments.

  Fuck…

  I love her.

  How did I fall so hard and not notice?

  How did she get so deep under my skin?

  This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Presley

  Something has changed.

  Adam has been different the past couple weeks.

  I’ve tried talking to him, tried asking him what’s wrong. He insists everything is fine.

  It’s not.

  Everything is far from fine.

  Things are tense, sometimes awkward. We still hang out, but he’s not as open with me as he was before. He’s closed off, like he’s trying to keep me at a distance and it’s killing me. He has to see the way things have changed. It’s not in my head, I know it’s not.

  Something’s obviously wrong and the fact that he won’t tell me only makes me think it’s because of me. I did something to make him close himself off from me and I can’t stand it. For the life of me, I can’t figure out what I did. I’ve replayed every single moment of the past couple weeks, trying to pinpoint what might have made him pull away.

  My mind keeps drifting back to the day at Three Kings when Cannon came into the room.

  Maybe it was too much?

  Maybe he thinks I want his friend now and he’s angry about it?

  The constant stream of questions, of what ifs, has been making me crazy.

  It seems that everything comes back to that day.

  I had no idea it would turn me on so much to have someone watching us, but it did. That experience taught me something new about myself. I enjoyed it, but it’s not something I’d want to happen all the time. Yes, it was hot. But I much prefer when Adam and I are alone.

  Maybe I did something wrong.

  It was Adam’s idea for Cannon to stay, but maybe he wanted me to say no.

  Was it some sort of test that I failed?

  Does he look at me as some sort of slut now?

  Does he not want me anymore?

  Ugh. It’s so goddamn frustrating!

  I hate myself when I’m like this. I despise being that girl. The one who questions everything because of a guy. This isn’t who I am.

  I was never supposed to fall for Adam.

  I never thought he’d even stick around this long. It was supposed to be a little fun for both of us, but for the first time in my life...my feelings are getting in the way. For the first time, I allowed myself to think about the possibility of something more.

  And now I’m too afraid to have that hope.

  Stupid, stupid girl.

  To make matters worse, my Instagram account has become the bane of my existence.

  Tara posted some of the pictures of me and Adam from the book cover session and tagged me.

  The photos...they’re amazing.

  They’re sexy and sensual.

  Adam and I look amazing together.

  I was thrilled when I saw them…

  Until the trolls appeared, bringing what seems like an entire army of their friends.

  Derrick has been trying to delete comments as soon as they’re posted, but it’s not enough. For every comment he deletes, it seems like ten more take its place. They just keep coming. My Instagram is flooded with hateful, hurtful comments from people who obviously have nothing better to do than insult a stranger who’s done nothing to them.

  They don’t know me.

  But they sure act like they do.

  I’m sure Derrick has shielded me from the worst of the comments, but I’ve seen enough.

  I’ve seen what people are saying.

  They ask if Adam and I are a real couple.

  They insist that we can’t be because I’m not pretty enough for him.

  They say that I don’t belong with a guy that looks as good as he does.

  He’s too good for me.

  People are fucking awful.

  Do they not know how much their words hurt?

  I’d like to think I could ignore the hate, ignore the judgment from people behind a screen, but I’m not sure that’s true. Especially not now, when there’s a
lready some mysterious thing driving a wedge between me and Adam.

  It’s hard to ignore their words when everything inside me is screaming that they’re right. The voice inside my head that always tells me I’m not good enough, not pretty enough…it’s overriding every bit of progress I’ve made over the last few months.

  Everything is spiraling out of control.

  For the first time in years, I want to cut.

  I want to find a blade and take it across my skin.

  I want to purge myself of the mental anguish making me a prisoner in my own mind. I want to feel something more than the overwhelming sense of not being good enough.

  I thought I was past this, but like everything else...I was wrong.

  Derrick knew this would happen. He knew it. That’s why he made me promise to talk to him.

  He knows I’m weak, that I’d eventually break.

  For a moment...an excruciatingly long moment...I almost do.

  I almost surrender to the urge trying to overtake me.

  Almost.

  But that would be too damn easy.

  A few cuts.

  That’s all it would take to give me the escape I need, to relieve me from the burden of the emotional weight pinning me down. But the relief wouldn’t last, and at the end of the day, I’d only hate myself more for adding more scars to my body.

  I’m better than that.

  I am not weak. I will not let this rule me again. I’ll fight for myself until I no longer have the strength to fight, until the day I breathe my last breath. I deserve to be happy, genuinely happy...and hurting myself will provide nothing more than pain.

  The storm raging inside me calms.

  A sense of relief washes over me when I realize I’ve just won my first battle with myself.

  The war is ongoing, but this one single battle...I’ve won, and victory is sweet.