“Wylder …” She threaded her fingers into my hair, commanding me to move down her stomach.
I glanced up as my tongue dipped into her pierced navel. Her drunk eyes and parted lips fed my own intoxication. I unbuttoned her shorts and slid them down her legs with her panties. Staring at her spread before me like an offering from a god I felt certain didn’t exist, I made quick moves to release my aching cock from the confines of my jeans.
The heels of her white canvas shoes planted on the edge of the desk as I pressed my hands to her knees, opening them and dipping my head to taste her.
“Wyyylllderrr …” she shrieked my name for eternity, her pelvis jerking off the desk, chasing my tongue.
While I wanted to feel her come undone against my mouth, I needed to be inside of her.
A long “yesss” escaped her soft lips as I pushed in as far as I could fit, pausing for a brief moment until she opened her eyes. Then I moved.
Fast.
Hard.
Desperate.
I didn’t know what it was … the dumb-ass guys checking her out in the classroom, the fit of her tee, the memories of my lifeless childhood, or that she knew my secret—and she stayed.
She. Fucking. Stayed.
All I knew was I couldn’t get close enough.
I couldn’t kiss her hard enough.
I couldn’t make it last long enough.
Livy was the one part of my life I couldn’t control. She disarmed the man who needed to feel the cold trigger at his finger to feel normal.
“Kiss … me … Wylder …” She grabbed my face, pulling me from her breast to her lips as I pistoled into her over and over, her legs around my waist, ankles locked together. “St-st-stop … stop …”
“Liv …” I pleaded, unable to imagine why she’d want me to stop something that felt unstoppable.
“Stop!” she said firmly. Not with anger, just very insistently.
I stopped. Panting. Confused. Worried.
She pressed her hands to my cheeks as our minty breaths mingled an inch apart. “Feel it?”
“What, Liv?” I said with impatience lacing my words and rolling off my body.
“Wanting something so much it hurts.” Her breaths were just as labored as mine. “Wanting it beyond all reason. That moment when the rest of the world doesn’t matter because you need something. The ache. The inability to breathe. Your heart beating out of your chest.”
“Livy …” I grimaced, needing to move.
“It’s why I came back. It’s why I stayed. Feel it … and know that every cell in my body felt this way yesterday.”
“I feel it,” I whispered, taking her mouth with mine. Taking all of her as I found my release—a temporary moment of reprieve from the insane need. I didn’t know what to do with the feelings.
All the fucking feelings piling up and no place to put them.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Livy
“If he finds out…” Kara helped me pack what few belongings I’d purchased after the fire into the back of my Jeep “…he’ll be mad.”
I closed the back door. “It’s highly unlikely that he makes an unannounced visit. My bed is still here. And I’m an adult. I don’t need Daddy’s permission to move in with my boyfriend.”
“Then just tell him.”
“Hell no.” I laughed. “I don’t need his permission, but I do need him to just not know for a bit.”
She rolled her eyes. “I still don’t see why Slade didn’t just ask you to live with him right after the fire.”
I shrugged, opening the driver’s door. “He kinda offered … at least temporarily. But then my dad came. Aubrey’s parents found this house, so I went with the flow since he didn’t mention it again until two days ago.”
“Do you hear ghosts?”
“No.” I giggled.
“Do you wonder if there’s still a hidden dungeon?”
“Nope. I don’t wonder that at all.” I shot her a toothy grin while starting the Jeep.
“Surfing in the morning?”
“Maybe. Depends on my night.”
“You mean sex. It depends on how long he keeps his dick inside of you.”
Sliding my sunglasses on, I repeated the same shit-eating grin. I didn’t tell her or anyone about morning sex in the TA’s office. Slade’s only explanation after we pieced our clothes back together was that Stu “owed him one.”
I picked up a pizza on my way to the firehouse, totally having a holy-shit-I’m-moving-into-the-firehouse moment. After I stopped my attempt to leave him and chose to be with him Sunday night, we had endless hours of sex without talking about the gravity of everything.
Monday morning school.
Insanely hot sex on a desk.
A kiss goodbye with a “see you later.”
And that was it.
I pulled into the driveway next to the empty spot where Wylder’s SUV was usually parked. He didn’t mention going anywhere. When I headed toward the back door with the pizza, a noise from the garage stopped me before I got to the deck. I eased the side garage door open, freezing at the sight of a strange man smoking a cigar while inspecting the pieces of Slade’s welding project.
“Livy Knight.” The man who looked a little older than my dad—shaved head, leathered skin, tattoos along his right arm, and thick limbs—dragged his icky gaze down my body. He had the appearance of a nightclub bouncer with a side of extra creepy.
“Who are you?” I wrinkled my nose at his stench.
He took a few quick puffs of his cigar and smiled, teeth stained in nicotine. “Abe. A … friend of Slade’s.”
“I doubt it.” I kept the door open and my body in view of anyone driving along the street.
His head slanted a fraction as he rolled the cigar between his fingers. “Why is that, sweetheart?”
“I don’t think he has any friends.”
Abe barked a hearty laugh, tipping his head back. “Touché. Good one. You’re probably right. I’ve told him he needs to make friends, but he never listens.”
“How do you know my name?” I highly doubted Slade talked about me with his “friend.”
“He mentioned you’d be moving in. I told him it’s a terrible idea. No offense.”
I frowned.
“It’s just that young girls are distractions. Messy. And I’d like to see him finish his last year of school without said messy distractions. If you two young things want to fuck like bunnies … I’m good with that.” He took several more puffs of his cigar as my face morphed into disgust. “But I think you should crawl back to your own bed when you’re done.”
“Who are you?” I glanced out at the street, feeling uneasy.
“I told you … a friend.”
“Well, Friend … as you can see, Slade isn’t here, so why don’t you call him next time before stopping by with your unsolicited advice.”
His boots scuffed along the dirty garage floor, inching closer to me. I stumbled back a few steps, almost dropping the pizza box.
“Gotta hand it to him … you’re a pretty little thing. You get those beach blond locks from your mom or dad?” He reached for my head, my shoulder, my hair … I didn’t know. I just knew no man was ever going to take advantage of me again.