Chapter Seventeen

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work

December 21

By the time they’d gotten home last night, Pike was too exhausted to even think about date night festivities, so they’d crawled straight into bed. They’d slept in late, showered, ate a lazy breakfast, and finally got the call. Pike breathed a long sigh of relief once he had his dad safely back at the cabin, tired but on the mend.

Neither of his parents said a word about what he had going on with Charlie, and he was grateful. Under the dining room table, he slipped his hand into Charlie’s, wishing to hell he didn’t have to hide it. But that wasn’t the agreement, and he needed to remember that, or this would be the trainwreck he’d seen coming.

The table buzzed with light conversation, stories of Christmases past, adventures during this one, and something about Santa making an appearance in town tomorrow. Pike couldn’t focus on any of it.

While secretly tracing the contours of his knuckles, between each finger, Charlie laughed straight from her belly at Alexei admitting he had a Christmas sweater, but it had a stain so darn it, he couldn’t wear it like he’d hoped. As she calmed the laugh, she lifted her water glass to her lips and stole a glance at him, biting her tongue and sinking into the moment, a look in her eyes that told him she was ready to pick up where they’d left off.

Breath caught in his throat, his pulse fired faster as he realized they were down to the wire. Running out of time, yeah, but more, the slow burn of the date had tempered his nerves the other night, like hours of emotional and physical foreplay. Today had been an exhausting letdown from lust quashed by worry and eased by relief… but now things were accelerating fast and he didn’t have time to adjust.

Palm pressed against hers, the contact sizzling and not nearly enough, Pike traced his fingertips up her wrist. She tipped her knee against his, another point of contact. He looked down and instantly realized his mistake. He moved his hand and grazed the backs of his fingers along her bare thigh where her skirt had climbed up.

This dinner was taking for fucking ever.

Across the table, Triss leaned back in her chair and rested her palms on the table, smile wide and eyes wider as she looked across the table, narrowing in on him. “Who’s up for family movie night? Maybe A Castle for Christmas? Single All the Way? Love Hard?”

Yup. She knew he was getting himself into trouble, but no amount of sweet family time with happily ever after holiday movies would fix it.

With heavy lids, Kyle flashed Pike a wink. “I’m not up to any excitement tonight. Maybe we should all turn in early, a nice quiet house so I can recover.”

Alexei kicked Pike under the table and pushed back in his chair, standing and stretching. “Great plan. Then maybe tomorrow we can watch Friends with Benefits, or No Strings Attached—”

“Those aren’t Christmas movies.” Triss bolted up, nearly knocking her chair over, and fell into a nervous laugh as she started stacking plates. “And we’re due for a family holiday evening together.”

Pike pushed to stand and started collecting silverware and glasses. Alexei was a shitty wingman.

On some page, not his and not his mother’s, Mae seemed in no hurry. “You’re right. A holiday romance will set such a lovely mood.”

Devon cleared her throat and stood as well, stacking plates. “I know Pike didn’t get a wink of sleep, worrying about his dad. Maybe those of us with enough energy can stay down here and watch a nice family Christmas movie, like Noelle?”

He flashed Devon a wink and left the awkward as fuck table argument that would get a hell of a lot worse if Alexei kept making recommendations. Charlie quietly joined him in the kitchen, passing soapy dishes between them in a two-person assembly line. She whispered, “I’ll pretend my sister called and needs my help. Maybe you want to feign a migraine?”

He laughed under his breath and said, “Screw it. Let’s just make a run for it.”

She flicked water off her hands and grabbed the towel, drying and tossing the towel aside before snatching her phone off the counter and dashed upstairs.

A smitten grin lifted his cheeks, which he forced down with a scowl and managed a straight face as he backed out of the kitchen, turned, and ran up the stairs.

At the top, Charlie hooked her hands in Pike’s waistband and dragged him toward her room.

“Hang on,” he said, holding up a finger and backing toward the bathroom. If he could tame things enough to relieve the full bladder, he could start the night right.

When he came back out, Charlie was waiting, leaned against the doorjamb to her bedroom, arms folded over her chest as she bit her lower lip with a bright grin that completely upended him.

He heard the others chatting and laughing on the second floor. Something about planning a family movie night tomorrow instead.

Pike scraped his teeth hungrily over his lower lip, focusing his attention on Charlie. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned one shoulder against the bathroom doorjamb, crossing one foot over the other. The side of his mouth lifted.

“So,” she said softly, a wicked grin on her lush lips, that he knew were as fucking succulent as they looked. “Want to come over and play?”

Throbbing, hard and impatient and so fucking ready, he watched her slowly unbutton her top. As she reached the lowest button, nothing but skin and lace showing underneath, she stroked a fingertip across her breast.

Shittiest timing ever, Triss, Gramma, and Lida’s voices carried up the stairs, and Alexei’s voice drew near, fast, and much louder as he said, “No, that’s cool, I can bring it down. I left it in my room and I think Charlie’s calling her family.”

As she climbed the steps, closing in as the whole family, apparently, had decided to become the world’s cruelest cockblocks, Mae’s voice rose. “It’ll only take a moment, then you can settle in for the evening while I get the stain out of that Christmas sweater. Don’t you worry. I bet I can do it without shorting out the light.”

Panic set in, his half-naked not-girlfriend seducing him, while he was seconds away from diving in for what promised to be a fucking incredible night. He quickly ducked into his temporary bedroom as Charlie squealed and ran back into hers.

Voices muffled, he couldn’t make out what they were saying. But they were damn chatty. And taking for fucking ever. What sweater? It couldn’t wait? They knocked on Charlie’s door and roped her into their emergent laundry situation.

No hope of them leaving anytime soon by the sound of things, he sat down on his unmade twin bed and rested his elbows on his knees. Darkness encompassed the room, so he clicked on his airplane lamp.

Laughter. Maybe a story starting.

He dropped to his back and stared up at the ceiling.

Two minutes turned into five. Still surfing on sleep deprivation, his eyes drift closed. Just a few minutes.

“Pike?” Charlie whispered, bright light casting into the room as the door eased open.

He jerked his eyes open. “Fuck. Sorry. Fell asleep,” he said, rubbing away the fatigue.

She laughed and clicked the door closed behind her. “Not a bad idea. That took forever.”

“Think they did it on purpose?” he groaned, pushing his hair back as his eyes adjusted.

“I don’t think so. Triss was only up here for a minute, but Hank said he wanted to talk to her.”

He sat up to his elbows and blinked himself awake. “Where were we?”

She started undoing buttons from the top again, this time laughing instead of the flirty wit from before. “Something like this?”

“Fuck,” he whispered, biting his tongue as he watched. “The spontaneity was hot, but I like to watch you strip, regardless.”

Charlie got into it a little more, adding a flourish and a swing in her hips, laughing at herself as she did. “I’m not going to talk dirty, but I am happy to try the stripping thing. As long as you promise to return the favor. I love watching you dance.”

Tongue twisted and brain haywire, he sat up and lowered his feet to the floor, clenching his hands at his sides so he didn’t reach out for her. Not yet. He was pretty sure he was coherent when he said, “I’ll have to think on that one.”

Torturously slow, not losing that wicked splash of humor, she peeled off the shirt, followed by her skirt until she was in nothing but sheer panties and her lacy bra. She stalked in front of him, standing over him, between his legs, and he touched his lips to her abdomen. Softly, he trailed kisses over her skin.

She lowered and straddled him, her fucking spectacular breasts in his face, right where he wanted her.

Hands trembling with thrill, he lowered one strap at a time and scooped her breasts from the bed of satin. Cupping her, grasping, he kissed each. She pressed tighter against him, gripping her hands in his hair.

Covering her with his mouth, he suckled hard, drawing her in until she gasped and writhed against him. Hips rocking over him, she was going to make him come in a damn second.

She pushed him back, and he laid down, folding his hands behind his head. She scooted out of her panties and mounted him one leg at a time, her wet, slick pussy inches above him, a thick layer of denim saving him from coming all over her. Hell, he wanted to feel her so bad. But she deserved so much more than a thirty-second, three-thrust ordeal, followed by him apologizing for being unable to control himself. Would she be flattered and laugh with that amused glee, or be politely disappointed and reassure him that it had been enjoyable, albeit brief?

“There’s something I’ve always wanted to try,” he said, grinning wide.

“I’m yours,” she said, a laugh behind her grin.

He bit on his lip and the corner of his mouth hooked up in a wicked grin. “Sit on my face,” he said.

“What?” she asked, laughing as she looked at him like he’d lost it. “That sounds as immaturely frustrating as sixty-nine.”

“It’s a thing. But I’ve never trusted anyone enough to try. Do you trust me?” he asked. Fucking hell, the image alone was going to shatter him.

While she laughed at the idea of it, she moved up, placing one knee on either side of his face. “I feel ridiculous,” she said, resting her arms on the headboard and looking down at him.

“Maybe we’ll both feel ridiculous and never have to try this ever again? At least we’ll know why people talk about it.” He leaned up and grabbed his hands around her hips. “Lower,” he said.

“I feel silly.” She laughed out loud as she lowered closer to his mouth, a self-conscious squeal as she settled.

The scent of her, ready and wet for him, and he was gone. Touching his tongue to her slick center, he felt her tremble as he traced the length of her. Warmed honey and silk, supple and soft; he savored the slow torture. “Still feel ridiculous?” he asked, flicking his tongue over her.

She sucked in a breath as he swirled over her clit. “Yes,” she said, laughing and gasping all at once. “But it might be worth the awkwardness. Better keep going, so I can make an educated decision on whether it’s something I’m willing to try again.”

Slipping lower, he thrust his tongue into the heat of her.

“Okay, I may add this to my list of favorites.” Smile evident in her gasp, she seemed to relax.

He accelerated, lapping her up and loving every fucking minute of it as her hesitance turned into confidence. Leaning forward further, she gripped the headboard.

Hands clutched around her hips, he lifted to get better leverage. Fucking hot as hell and twice as wicked, she moved over him while he worked her, finding himself lost in sensation as he tasted her, felt her responding to his mouth alone.

Breath coming fast, her hips writhing over him, her voice was tight but rich with humor. “I still feel ridiculous.”

He laughed against her, using languorous licks to build her higher before bringing her to her peak. “Me too, but I don’t fucking care.”

He accelerated, pushing harder, dipping his tongue inside her again, circling her, then focusing back on her sensitive nub.

As he vibrated his tongue over her, harder and faster and so fucking necessary, she gasped and breathed a whisper of his name, desperation wild in her voice as if she hadn’t even realized she’d said it. Nothing else could have shattered him so intensely. In that single slip, his name on her tongue, he knew.

Timing was everything. As she writhed, so close, climbing higher, he closed his mouth over her sucked, hard and fast and he clutched her hips to steady her over his mouth.

Her breath quickened and rapid, soprano whimpers echoed from her throat as she came over him.

Again and again, he slid his tongue the length of her, easing the pressure, then sucking down hard to carry the orgasm higher then bringing her back down. She gripped the headboard and said his name again, intentionally this time.

When she was so fucking wet that he was about to come at the feel of her on his tongue, her body humming and slowing and he knew she was finished, he brought her back down and she shifted off of him.

Breathless and laughing lightly, a grin wicked on her lips, she tucked into his side and nuzzled into his neck while he wrapped his arms around her. “Would that be going up on someone, instead of down?” she asked.

He laughed out loud, from deep in his belly and vibrating his entire body. Hell of a time to realize you’d taken the plunge, midway through plunging your tongue into the love of your life, knowing you’d fucked up a relationship again—worse than ever—and fell in love with the woman you promised to not get attached to. Already aching at the impending loss of her, he held on while he could, tucking away each moment.

She shifted and rose to her hands and knees over him. She reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out a condom. “Okay. I feel enabled and ready to ask for oral whenever I’m in the mood, and in whatever awkward and embarrassing position I might be craving. Mission accomplished. Good lesson. But…” She nodded for him to move. “If you take me from behind now, then I can tell you how much I miss your face and ask you to do me as the missionaries do later…”

Sitting up and straddling him, flushed and grinning wickedly over him, while he lay under her in his jeans and tee, he grasped her thighs and said, “I will take you however you want, whenever. As long as you promise to ride me in the morning.” Her hair was already playfully undone, her skin smooth and warm, and he knew exactly how he wanted to wake up.

He sat up and tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side and pressing his body against hers, needing to feel her bare breasts on his skin.

She wrapped her hands around his him, kissing his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. “I want you now,” she whispered before nibbling his earlobe between her teeth.

They adjusted on the narrow bed, and for a brief moment, he thought they should switch to the big bed.

But as she grabbed the headboard and smiled back at him, he knew he didn’t want to wait another second. Aching and hard, he lowered his jeans and slid the condom over himself and moved in behind her. So fucking hot, she waited. He reached up and cradled her breasts in his hands, kneading and loving her body so damn much.

Again, she said his name, an invitation and a request.

He slipped his sheathed tip along the slick crease of her, finally sliding into her.

Breath rushed from his lungs, his body stiffening, as her tight heat took him in and massaged the length of him. Slowly, he started to move. He shifted his hands from her hips again and reached for her breasts, needing to feel all of her, the soft weight of her like putty in his hands, he cupped and squeezed as he thrusted in and out of her.

Seconds away from blowing his load, way too damn soon, he remembered his little investment. He laughed and said, “Fuck, hang on.”

“What now?” she said on a laugh.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the vibrating ring he’d picked up at the store. He clicked the thing on and reached around to her center, cupping her and placing the vibrating ring over her clit.

“Holy fucking shit,” she hissed, instantly tightening around him. “I did want to try one of those.”

“This is not your Christmas present,” he said. Keeping it close to her, he rubbed at her core again, sliding his cock deeper and shifting inside her. Coordination was a bitch as he tried to keep his hand braced over her clit with the toy, while holding back his own orgasm.

He rubbed and thrust, finding a rhythm that worked for them both.

Her cries about undid him, from deep in her throat, huskier than before as he felt her contract around him. Stars flashed in his vision as the intensity of the sensation, holding on until she finished, finally releasing.

Exhausted beyond reason when he withdrew, he cleaned up and dropped to the small bed, taking her in his arms and nuzzling into her hair.

“Pike?” she asked as she traced her fingertips over his back.

“Yeah?” he groaned as he drifted into a sleepy haze.

“You can get me a bigger one of those for Christmas.”

He laughed and touched his lips to her skin one more time. “Sure thing.”

December 22

Charlie couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Her mind was so full of him. She’d wanted to venture outside her comfort zone to better understand herself, but she had no idea…

Apparently, his creativity extended beyond music.

As she felt him settling in, wrapped around her in the twin bed, knowing he was drifting off, she needed to hear the sound of his resonant laugh at least once more before falling asleep. “If you only want doggy style, if it’s like that every time, I could be persuaded.”

He laughed hard, his entire body vibrating, and he kissed her shoulder. “Nah. You’ve got the best rack I’ve ever seen, and I want to watch your boobs jiggle as you ride me.”

She laughed and turned on the small bed, pressing her backside into him. “I’m glad you agreed to be my practice not-boyfriend. Honesty is nice.”

“While we’re being completely honest…” he said, a darkness to his tone that rattled her, the heavy sweetness threatening her plan. “I’m going to wake you at two in the morning, turn on the light, and beg you to ride me.”

She chuckled softly, dodging a big damn bullet when the moment had almost become heavy.

It wasn’t two in the morning when he woke her. It was midnight. His long fingers cupping her breast, teasing at a tight bud, he trailed soft kisses along her shoulder.

No words were exchanged. She reached into the drawer of the bedside table as he shifted beneath her, and rolled the condom over him.

He hissed and thrust into her hands. She lowered onto him. Thick, hard, and utterly hers, he watched as she took him in.

Slowly, rocking, she moved. Heat coiled in her core and radiated up as she found the rhythm she needed.

In the dim light, he watched her. At first, he watched her breasts, as he’d promised. Before him, she would have felt awkward, having a guy watch her tits while she squeezed his cock to her own satisfaction. But with Pike, she was empowered.

Biting the edge of her tongue, she exaggerated her movements. A sweet, open-mouthed smile spread on his wicked lips. She shifted his hands from her hips to her breasts and showed him what she wanted. He groaned and took it to the next level, tweaking her nipples in his fingers, groaning as if it brought him as much pleasure as it did her.

By morning, the sun rose late, and despite sleepy eyes and mussed hair, he rolled on top of her and grabbed a condom from the drawer, sliding it over him before rubbing against her core.

After last night, she didn’t need much more than to glance at him to find herself wet, ready, and halfway to orgasm. Without needing words, she traced her fingertips along the grooves of his arms, a gasp tremoring from her lips as he slipped inside of her and she held him tight.

Rocking over her, hips thrusting as he plunged into her, blissful pressure building, he watched her as she watched him, eyes meeting. Every expression clear, he held her in his thrall. As he moved inside her, he lowered and touched his lips to hers. Soft. Pliant. Savoring.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she felt nothing but him, his skin against hers, their bodies moving together.

Momentum slowing after he finished, he leaned down and kissed her again, an ache brewing irreversibly deep.

He lifted off her and wrapped his towel around his waist, disappearing into the bathroom.

She slid her clothes back on and moved to her bedroom. Well sexed after last night, she could hardly function, aching everywhere yet feeling relaxed and satisfied, like she’d finished a double session of hot yoga.

When she heard the shower flick off and Pike close himself back in his room, she took her turn. Every nerve sensitized from last night, she washed gently, then toweled off after, and headed into her room.

Needing the meditative release, to stretch to her loose limbs, she pulled on her yoga pants, sports bra, and sleeveless shirt, tying a knot at the side. In her bare feet, she walked down the stairs.

“Charlie,” Mae said as Charlie rounded the stairs ending and stepped onto the main floor. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” she said softly, forcing a smile and brightening her affect.

“Lazy breakfasts around here this morning, but save room for a big dinner tonight. Butternut squash risotto and prime rib. We’re on the Christmas countdown.”

“Sounds wonderful. Need any help?”

“Not this time.” Delighted deviousness flashed in Mae’s deep brown eyes. “Next year, when there’s a ring on that finger, we’ll divide up assignments to include you and my grandson. This Christmas, we’re spoiling you.”

Lightheadedness paled her skin, and she smiled broadly. “Um… Sure. Yeah.” Dammit Alexei. This vacation was a bigger mess than even he could have anticipated.

“As I’m sure you know, Alexei and Devon are off skiing. Pike’s downstairs.”

The smile was becoming tougher to feign. “Oh. I, was, uh, going to go do some yoga.”

“He won’t mind. He’ll have his headphones on.”

At the foot of the stairs, she stilled, forcing a calm before facing him.

Finally, she turned the knob and walked inside. Icy cold concrete froze her toes, goosebumps prickling over her skin. Pike was on his back, lifting the weighted barbell up and down like the devil chased at his heels. His feet ground into the floor and he growled as each lift seemed heavier than the last.

“Hey,” she said, entering the room.

He set the bar on the stand and sat up.

Not helpful. His bare chest was… dare she say, glistening with sweat, and the lifting had added a level of definition. Dammit. She really wasn’t going to be able to see him again, or she wouldn’t be able to keep her hands off him.

“Hey.”

“Don’t mind me. I need yoga.”

“Yeah,” he said, standing up and taking a long inhale as he did. Shoulders back, posture impeccable after the workout, he opened a cupboard and handed her a rolled green mat.

“Thanks,” she said. “Don’t mind me.”

He nodded and moved to the treadmill.

On her phone, she pulled up her favorite program, needing someone to guide her through the moves today. She flipped on the TV and cast the video to the screen, laying out her mat in an open space on the floor.

Like he had on the bench, Pike ran like he was burning off more than soreness after last night.

She inhaled as she lifted her body, moving into mountain pose.

Ten minutes in, and her muscles were fluidly warm, trembling from exertion. She pushed, searching for release. While she controlled her breathing, her mind refusing to follow, she felt the tension brewing harder from the treadmill.

Pike slammed off the machine and walked around her. He ripped open a cupboard and grabbed his guitar, his mood darker even than when she’d gotten downstairs.

Across her thigh, she reached for her foot to stretch her lats, drawing in oxygen to temper her muddled mind.

He clicked his headphones into the guitar and dropped onto a stool.

Charlie kept her attention on the flow of her movements, while she heard him working and reworking a tune.

Her video ended, and she rolled up her mat, putting it back in the cupboard, then grabbed a towel and wiped the sheen of sweat from her brow and chest.

She drew in a long, measured breath and turned to glance back at Pike. Softly, no more than a hum, he sang as he played on the muted strings, his headphones on, lost in the music. Maybe she’d messed up, suggesting something so stupid. They were both disasters at relationships, so why did she think they would be able to handle full-contact practice?

As she approached, he looked up, watching her walk toward him.

Without a word, he set his guitar down and slipped his headphones off.

He rose to his feet and crossed the rest of the way, no hesitation.

The moment they reached each other, she rose to meet him.

He cradled her jaw in his hands and took her mouth with his, effortlessly natural, haunting and stirring.