Page 11

CHAPTER 10

EMBER

Crazy fucking day.

“Tell me to stop.”

Ghost pulls away and looks at me, his eyes pleading for me to do as he asks. I should. I know it, and he knows it. This is a terrible idea. But the second his mouth touched mine, I was lost. And now, I’m fucking desperate.

Rather than respond, I shake my head before tugging him closer by a belt loop. A million reasons flash through my mind as to why I should drag him by said belt loop and toss him out the door, but I force away every single one of them.

I wasn’t lying when I said today’s been crazy, and this only solidifies it as one for the history books. When Addison approached me in the grocery store, I had no idea how much my life was about to change. I couldn’t have known.

Ghost’s hand shifts from my hip to slide up my shirt and rest just below my breast. I whimper at the contact, and he smiles against me. Fifteen years… fifteen years and this man can still reduce me to mush.

No! Not going down that road. This is sex, nothing more.

Speaking of sex, I need it. I want it. And he’s going to give it to me.

I break away as I start unbuttoning his jeans. “Bedroom’s down the hall.” He arches a brow, but before he can say anything, I continue. “Don’t think. Please, don’t think. I don’t wanna think.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs. He lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. As he carries me down the hall, he kisses me again, his tongue sweeping into my mouth and tangling with mine. Before I know it, he’s tossing me onto the bed, and the loss of contact with his body has me moaning.

“Tell me to stop,” he repeats, taking his cut off and laying it gently on the top of my dresser. Then he grabs the hem of his shirt at the back of his neck and yanks it over his head.

“No.”

“I’m not gonna ask again,” he growls, kicking off his boots.

“I thought I told you not to think,” I taunt, reaching for the clasp on my dress pants.

With lightning-quick speed, Ghost is on me, stopping my movements. “You know this is my favorite part,” he says as he slowly, almost reverently, drags my pants and panties over my hips and down my legs.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I don’t know what his favorite part is anymore, but I’m not about to stop the delicious sensations his touch is evoking. Sensations that I haven’t felt in too damn long.

My body is on fire, burning from the inside out, and he hasn’t even touched?—

“Ooooh,” I moan on a breath when he dips his head between my legs, nuzzling my center with his nose.

“You smell so fucking good,” he growls, the vibration from his words amplifying my pleasure.

With his focus below my waist, I make quick work of taking off my shirt and bra. After throwing them to the floor, I shove my fingers through his hair. I’m torn between holding him to me so I can enjoy the way his tongue teases my clit and pulling him away so I can have his cock instead.

I’m so close to coming, and I realize, almost too late, that I want him to come with me. So, I pull.

“Top nightstand drawer,” I say, my tone breathless, before he can move up my body.

“Huh?”

“Condom.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he leans back and yanks the drawer open. After tearing open the foil packet with his teeth, he reaches between us to slide it over his hard shaft, but my hand stops him.

“You know this is my favorite part,” I say, mimicking his earlier words.

I settle the rubber over his head and ease it down slowly. Ghost squeezes his eyes shut, and when the tips of my fingers touch his balls, he throws his head back.

“Not gonna last long, Em,” he snarls, but there’s no anger in his tone. “You know what this does to me.”

I do. I remember what every one of my touches does to him. I remember it with stark clarity.

Deciding not to torture him, because let’s face it, it’s torture for me too, I line him up with my pussy. He doesn’t hesitate as he thrusts… hard.

I cry out when he reaches the deepest part of me, the part that only he’s ever been able to reach. Wrapping my legs around his hips, I dig my heels into his ass, doing my best to hold him as close as possible.

Ghost lifts himself up, bracing on his hands which are placed on either side of my head, and stares at me as he picks up his pace. I arch my back, silently begging him to pleasure me in other ways, and, like me, he remembers.

He latches onto a nipple, dragging it between his teeth, and the slight bit of stinging pain only ratchets up my desire.

“Fuck me,” I plead. “Please fuck me harder.”

There was a time that request freaked him out because, according to his younger self, he never wanted to hurt me. He has no such reservations now.

“Fuck you harder?” he grunts as he moves to the other nipple.

“Yes!” I shout. “God, yes!”

Abandoning my nipple, he slows his thrusts while he grabs my arms and stretches them above my head. He holds both wrists in one hand while the other he uses to hold himself upright. And then he moves faster, pistons in and out of me harder.

My hips buck, and I match his pace. I struggle against his hold, but I’m no match for his strength. No matter. Touching him with my hands would only lead to emotion entering the equation, and we can’t have that.

With each thrust, he rolls his hips, giving me friction where I need it most.

“Come for me, Em,” he demands roughly. “Come on my cock and drain me dry.”

His harsh words are like a match lighting the tip of a fuse attached to a bomb. Fire sizzles from one nerve ending to the next, and I explode around his dick. Two more thrusts, and he detonates around me, swelling as he pumps me full.

After what feels like hours, our bodies still, and he rolls off to my side. I stare at the ceiling, my sanity returning, and can’t help but wonder what the hell we just did.

“Bathroom?” he asks, taking the condom off.

I point to the door across the room that leads to the attached bath.

“Be right back.”

He shuts the door behind him, and I take several deep breaths.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Scrambling off the bed, I yank open my bottom dresser drawer and grab the first pair of sleep shorts and tank that I find. By the time he returns from the bathroom, I’m dressed and sitting on the edge of the mattress, no doubt a stricken look on my face.

“What’s this?” he asks, nodding at me.

“I… We…” Regret is a boulder in my chest, and I have to clear my throat before I can force any more words out. “This doesn’t change anything.”

His expression falls, and his entire body tenses. A combination of pain and anger flashes across his face, and he busies himself with gathering his clothes and getting dressed.

“Parker?” I say, trying to get him to look at me.

“It’s fucking Ghost,” he barks, sliding his arms into his cut. He points to a patch affixed to the leather. “It even spells it out right here in case you ever forget.”

Okay, so we’re gonna do this the hard way.

“I’m sor?—”

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,” he seethes. “I can take a lot of shit from you, Em, but not that.” He stalks to the bedroom door and pauses at the threshold, glancing over his shoulder. “Forget this ever happened. It was a mistake, clearly. Just…” He sighs. “I’ll see you at my mom’s, day after tomorrow.”

And with that, he’s gone, and I feel as though a bucket of ice has been poured over my body.

Crazy fucking day.