Blue
: Chapter 12

MY CHEEKS BURNED as daddy opened the door of his club, and mummy led us outside and into the dark. The wind was crazy, and my nose scrunched as droplets of rain landed on my cheeks and danced down my clothes. I’d only just got dry. I looked up at both of them, but as I did, the raindrops started to fall in their thousands. It made sense to close my eyes so they wouldn’t get wet too, so that’s what I did.

“Not again.”

Clutching my bunny to my chest, I peered open my eyes to replace daddy bent down beside me, pulling my hood onto my head and tightening its strings. It was so windy, I thought I might get blown over, but then he picked me up and placed me into mummy’s arms.

“I’ll be home late,” I heard him say as he kissed mummy over my shoulder. “Don’t wait up. And drive slow, okay? Never mind this wind; the roads will be terrible.”

My eyes grew tired, so I snuggled into mummy’s shoulder. Late? I thought. Mummy said it was already past my bedtime.

“I’ll wait up,” mummy said.

I felt her smile against the side of my head.

“Love you, princess,” daddy said to me, kissing me too.

“Love you, daddy. Bye.”

He closed the door, and then mummy and me made our way to the car. Her warmth enveloped me as she secured her arms around me nice and tight, perfectly content until I realised I could only see one of bunny’s big floppy ears.

“Bunny!” I wailed, wriggling and trying to pull him free. “He’s stuck, mummy!”

As she walked, she glanced down into the small space between us. The rain hit my face again as she moved one hand from my leg to cradle the back of my head, allowing me to lean back and tug bunny from between us.

“Don’t drop him,” she warned.

I would never!

Silly, silly, mummy. I cuddled him nice and tight between my face and her neck while she skipped us over puddles. Droplets of water splashed our clothes with each step, getting us wet. When the sky broke out in a loud rumble, I whimpered and pinched my eyes closed tight.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s just thunder.”

“And wind,” I said.

“You’re right. Thunder, wind, and rain.”

It felt like a long time until we reached the car. Mummy leant me against it, balancing me on her knee while she one-handedly opened the door to the backseat.

“No,” I cried when she placed me in my car seat and took my bunny from me.

“Ssh, hold on. Let’s get you out of this wet coat, and then you can have him back.” She began pulling my arms free from my coat, but I continued to fret. I wanted my bunny, and I wanted him now.

She manoeuvred me around, taking my coat from me, and then she threw it onto the seat beside me. Water dripped from her brown hair and onto my face when she pulled each of my arms through the straps of my seat and leant forward to fasten me in while I continued to cry.

My wiggling hands reached out for bunny, Mummy’s brow pinching as she placed him back in my waiting hands. I pulled him to my face as I cried.

As I did, the sky rumbled, only it sounded much louder this time and made me cry harder.

“Ssh, baby. Sleep,” she cooed, her gentle fingers stroking my hair away from my damp forehead. “You’re overtired, huh? I’m sorry. We’ll be home soon.”

Her lips touched my cheek, and then the door closed with a thud.

THE SOUND of thunder startled me awake, my eyes blinking open in the darkness of the room. I realised then that I’d fallen asleep on Walker’s couch. With the recognition of a dream in the midst of my mind, I figured the thunder was a figment of my imagination. But then I heard the rhythmic pitter-patter of rain against the windows and another bout of thunder in the distance.

Regardless of what I’d woke from, it felt like I’d lived it.

Rolling onto my side, I noticed Walker slouched, legs spread, on the armchair beside me. His eyes floated over me, from my head to the tips of my toes. Despite feeling exposed under the gravity of his stare, I didn’t shy away. There was no reason to. Not when we’d slept in the same bed for the past five nights. No less dressed now in my pyjamas than I’d been beside him.

The moon’s light illuminated everything from his naked chest to the glass of amber liquid in his hand, which settled on the skin just below his shorts. Though my own eyes focused on the tortured look in his.

“Bad dream?” His voice was hoarser than usual, almost a rasp, as if he’d drank so much liquor he’d burnt his throat. As if he’d worked out so hard, he hadn’t much air in his lungs.

“How did you know?” I slowly crawled back on my palms until I was seated, only blanching again at the sound of thunder. It was going to be one of those nights, it seemed.

Walker frowned, studying a path down my neck until he paused on the scar nestled above my collarbone. It wasn’t the first time I’d noticed his eyes drift to the mark engraved in my skin, but for the first time since we’d met, I felt like he saw under the armour I often buried myself in.

By instinct, I raised my hand to trace its length with my fingers, watching him as his eyes followed my slow caress.

“You were restless,” he murmured. “You said thunder was a trigger. The night it happened–”

“Yeah,” I said, interrupting him. My brows drew together. He may have had an insight, but that didn’t mean I wanted to talk about it. I only hoped he could understand why and not pressure me to talk it over like my father often did.

His eyes came back to mine with a look of understanding beneath their depths. Only when he licked his lips, I realised I was staring at him too fixedly. I dragged my eyes away, to the glass in his hand, and hoping to steer the conversation away from my nightmares, I asked, “Bad day?”

“Not the finest,” was his response. There was no uncertainty in his tone–just honesty. With that, he brought his glass to his lips and swallowed the remainder. Something about the action made my stomach dip.

“My dad called me today,” I said casually.

“He did? Why?” He refused to meet my eyes, and upon emptying his glass, he kept the rim against his lips.

“He said he was worried about me.”

“That’s it?”

I frowned. “Mostly.”

“What else?”

“You don’t have to worry. I know I said those things in your office, but I haven’t told him anything.”

His only response was to smirk.

“You haven’t been around much. It’s like you’re ignoring me,” I stated. “The new bedroom is all set up. I wasn’t sure if it was for you or for me. The decorators locked the door behind them. I couldn’t replace the key.”

“It’s for you,” he murmured. “You’re a temptation I can’t afford.”

My heart rate kicked up a notch, and my words came out in a whisper. “What does that mean?”

He glared at me, gnawing his cheeks before he spoke again. “I think you know exactly what it means.”

Maybe that was true, but still, I asked the question anyway. I was becoming borderline obsessed with him. Too conscious of our chemistry. We’d known each other only a brief amount of time, and it didn’t matter how hard we tried to convince ourselves nothing was there; the truth still lingered between us like something foreign. Which was precisely why I slid off the couch and strode over to where he was seated with the urge to be near him.

He dropped his empty glass to the arm of the chair as I approached, his chin held high as if it could discourage me from advancing any closer. He wanted the space between us, but he couldn’t deny that he liked being as close to me as I did him. It was why he’d chosen to sleep beside me in bed in replace of the couch. It was why the two of us never acknowledged it in words and instead let it play out.

I stepped forward and climbed onto his lap. He grunted at the intrusion, though he seemed neither satisfied nor displeased when I placed my knees on either side of his legs.

He kept his lazy, reclined position, but his hands moved to my waist. It was to either hold me still or push me away, but I wasn’t confident which until his thumbs protruded into the waistband of my pyjama shorts, and he secured me down onto his lap.

Relief settled in my chest and joined the warmth in my belly.

“What is this, Walker?” My voice was breathy, if not hopeful. I was sure he understood what I was asking. No way was it just me searching for answers. Not when he all but asked the same question in his office. Maybe differently; but nothing could convince me it didn’t mean the same.

His hands wrapped around my hips. And as if it stung him to say it, he replied, “I don’t know.”

I wished for an explanation that didn’t feel like a riddle. But riddles seemed to be all we had.

WALKER

ALL MY MORALS had evaporated along with my sanity as my fingers dug into her waist, itching for more.

Another touch.

A little taste.

Temptation.

The word was like glue.

The air was potent with unspeakable chemistry as I followed her every move. From the rise and fall of her chest to the way her fingertips made their journey into her hair, where she brushed through the tendrils with her fingers and pulled it over one shoulder. My cock twitched at the sight of her above me. And my mouth salivated to kiss the skin of her exposed neck.

Desperate to have her taste in my mouth, I worked hard to suppress a groan. But even so, I hardened beneath her.

“It’s almost my birthday,” she said, swallowing a breath. “I’m turning eighteen.”

She didn’t need to fucking tell me. I was completely aware of how old she was. It was one of the reasons she was here. And it didn’t matter if she was seventeen or eighteen because this wasn’t Florida, and she was a British Citizen. With her permission, if I wanted to fuck her, I could. Legally. Her age wasn’t what held me back. At least, not completely. There were many factors.

There was James.

There was the past.

There was the future.

And regardless of them, it wasn’t right.

I shuffled in my seat, which was a bad move because my cock created friction against her pussy, and her lips parted on a soundless gasp.

Swallowing, I told her what I was thinking. “I know how old you are.”

“I was just reminding you.”

I didn’t need reminding, but I was sure she knew that.

Positioning my body upwards, so I was no longer slumped in the armchair, I moved so her chest was pressed against mine. And then, with my fingertips on her waist and her head in line with my own, I shuffled forward in my seat. It felt good being so close to her. Probably too good for me to keep my intentions pure if I relished in the position too long. Which was exactly why I couldn’t.

“Wrap your legs around me,” I murmured.

The corner of her mouth tipped up. It wasn’t much, but being so close to her, it would have been impossible to miss it. And then her legs were wrapping around my waist and locking behind my back.

With my cock hard against her stomach, I was sure she was thinking the most carnal thoughts. If my night weren’t such a clusterfuck of emotion, if I wasn’t so fucking intoxicated, no doubt I’d be thinking more of them too. But maybe that was my issue, because I was thinking of them. So maybe this was me fighting it. Maybe this was me trying to convince myself I didn’t want her, even though I did.

Despite the fantasy, I said, “I’m not going to fuck you, Blue.” God knows she deserved more than a drunken fucking lay.

She stiffened in my arms and bit her bottom lip, giving off the impression she was disappointed in my honesty. I shouldn’t have been, but fuck, I felt a little disappointed too. And jealous. Jealous that some other fucker would get to sink his cock into her one day. And jealous of all the other cunts before who had.

In spite of my better judgement, I found myself saying, “Not yet anyway.”

It was impulsive.

Stupid.

So fucking moronic.

But then her arms encased around my neck like it was music to her ears. Like she was the damsel, and I was some kind of forbidden prince. And by their own accord, my hands gripped under her thighs as I raised us from the armchair and began walking us to the master bedroom.

But then, given our position, I thought, how much could I take? And how much would she give? And how would I feel when it was all said and done, knowing that I’d handed my wife our divorce papers only a few hours ago, no matter how little our marriage ever meant?

I wasn’t a prince.

This wasn’t a love story.

Not even close, because fairy tales didn’t exist.

The proof was in my shorts as I carried her through the room and down the hall towards the master bedroom. In the way my teeth fought not to bite into her sunshine skin. In the way I squeezed the skin of her thighs between my fingers, with the urge to creep closer to the place between her legs.

“Am I heavy?” she asked as I stepped through the bedroom door with her in my arms. She’d left the lamp on in the bedroom, and as my eyes adjusted to the light, I gently shook my head with a silent chuckle.

“You’re a lot of things,” I rumbled. “But heavy isn’t one of them.”

The smell of her perfume lingered through the penthouse since she’d moved in, but in this particular room, it assaulted me from every direction that I couldn’t stop myself from wondering how I’d ever forget it when she was gone.

I walked us to the bed and placed her back onto the mattress, but she didn’t choose to let me go straightaway, keeping her legs locked behind my back and her arms around my neck.

“Blue.” I moved my hands from her thighs to either side of her shoulders and pulled back, forcing some distance between our upper bodies, not trusting myself while I was intoxicated. “Unlatch your legs.”

“I thought you wanted me to stay in the new room.”

A frown pulled at my forehead. “I do.”

“Then why am I in your bed?”

I felt the urge to drop my head to the bed with a groan, but I didn’t. Why was she in my bed? Why didn’t I just take her to the new room that I’d had all set up for her? The fuck was wrong with me?

“Consider it your room until tomorrow. You’re already here.”

She darted her eyes from the window to me as rain hit and thunder sounded in the distance.

“Are you?” she asked.

“Am I what?”

“In here with me tonight?”

Her hands slid into my hair, gripping the strands between her delicate fingers as she attempted to pull my head closer to hers. I pulled back to look at her, and with one hand still in my hair, she moved the other to my face, smoothing out the lines on my forehead.

“Well?”

“I don’t think it’s appropriate,” I said honestly. These deep-rooted feelings–these deep-rooted memories–and the urge to sink my cock into her warm cunt were too tempting. I’d already spent the last five nights beside her. I’d felt her snuggling against my back like I was a comfort. And every morning, I’d wake before she did with her head cradled in my neck and my fingers tangled in her hair.

It appeared even in my sleep, I was drawn to her.

Though right now, I was too wired and too infatuated with her body, with what this was, to keep myself under control. Staying beside her tonight would only end one way. There’d be no cuddling or sneaking out from on top of the sheets. Instead, I’d be balls deep, and with every thrust, she’d be screaming my name.

Her eyelashes fluttered as her fingers followed a path down the bridge of my nose, to my lips, and then along the length of my stubbled jaw. It threw me for a moment, my chest aching with something I’d never felt with a woman. Neither sober nor fucked up. Why the hell was she looking at me like that? Touching me like that?

She tore her hand away when I flinched, as if I’d scolded her. The ache of Wez’s hit lingered, but there was no swelling, so she hadn’t known her touch had hurt. And not only in the literal sense, because this… this.. longing I felt was a different kind of pain. The truth was, I didn’t have it in me to explain or worry that I’d hurt her feelings. And clearly, I hadn’t hurt them that much. Because although she was mimicking my frown, her eyes–her beautiful come-fuck-me eyes–were now glued to my mouth. She couldn’t make it any more obvious how much she wanted to kiss me.

“No,” I said, reading into the dumb idea. Absolutely no way would I let her close the space between us; the complication could ruin me. Shit, how did I go from one extreme to the other with her? Why the fuck did she continuously push me?

Annoyed, I took her wrist in one hand and pinned it above her head. “Whatever you’re thinking, you better stop.”

Her breath hitched, and her hips lifted, moving against my straining cock in one gentle movement. It took all my goddamn willpower to keep myself from grinding back. From stripping those goddamn skimpy pyjamas from her perfect skin, fucking her raw, and showing her who possessed the control here. It had been too long since my cock had been inside another woman, and it was begging to be hugged by her warm wet centre.

We were a long way from my office. She was no longer hiding behind a shitty threat.

With no words, solely touches, she suddenly inclined forward so our lips were grazing. I gripped her wrist tighter, but my eyes closed as I bathed in the feel of her mouth against mine. I’d fucked up by all accounts. And still, when her tongue came out and dampened my bottom lip, I let it happen. I didn’t make one single attempt to stop her. I did the opposite. I drew her bottom lip between my teeth and nibbled in a way that was anything but romantic.

It was mean, and punishing and fuck–

“Nate.”

Just fuck!

My first name on her lips sounded like a prayer, and the little moan that followed only made me want to do dirty, dirty things to her. I drew my lips away from hers, down her chin, and across her pulse before dipping into the hollow of her neck. She shivered when my breath hit the damp skin, and when my lips pressed against her throat and my teeth pinched, she raised her hips and ground herself against me, loosening the lock she had around my waist.

With a pained curse, I inhaled her scent. I knew if I were to do anything when she was gone, it would be to use my money for the greater good and pull this scent from every store in the whole of England and any country I ever planned to visit.

“What perfume do you wear?”

Knowing the name of it would be a good start.

Distracted by my vicious lips, she could barely get her words out. “Do you like it?”

Do I like it?

Do I fucking like it?

“No. I fucking loathe it.”

I didn’t give her a chance to think about what I said before I was nibbling and sucking at her skin again, marking her like it was my very right. She continued grinding herself against my cock, eager to chase the high I shouldn’t have been assisting her with. It was PG compared to some of the things I’d done with women before Sophia and with Sophia, but still, I let her take what she needed. I convinced myself I was being a good guy. A real fucking gent.

I groaned, low in my throat. “Does that feel good, baby?”

She responded by moaning timidly in my ear, rubbing and grinding and grinding and rubbing. It threw me for a loop. But it wasn’t enough, because the next thing I knew, I was letting go of her wrist, pulling away from her, and staring down at her covered pussy. A damp patch covered the satin of her pyjama shorts. And before I could question it, my thumb was there, softly rubbing her clit through the material.

“Oh.”

Fucking oh?

I couldn’t look at her.

If I looked at her–if I saw her face, all blushed and sexy as sin–there was no saying I wouldn’t lose it. I was close. Close to dipping my hand into her shorts and feeling that wetness between my fingers. Close to feeling that wetness on my cock. My cock that was currently leaking pre-cum because I was being deprived of one of my favourite fucking activities. One I hadn’t participated in in too long.

She crept forward, moving her hands to my bareback. “I think–I think–”

“You think what?” I said, looking up. “Do you want me to stop?”

Shit.

Why, just why, did I look at her?

Her face was glowing, her cheeks the colour of cherry blossom, her lips parting as she mewed like a fucking kitten. Her nipples hard and pointed through her top. Jesus, this girl.

“No. No, please don’t stop,” she breathed.

Thank fuck.

She inclined her hips into my touch, and then I was cupping her, my fingers sprawled over the material between her ass cheeks as my thumb continued its spiralling assault on her clit.

“Nate, oh.”

I grunted. “Fuck, you’re wet. I can feel you through your shorts. Don’t be shy, baby. Take what you want.”

What I really wanted to say was, take it all. Take me. Take my cock. But then–then it happened. Her legs shook as she clenched her thighs around my hand, and her lips parted with a final moan as her release finally broke. It seemed to last a few moments, and then she was closing her eyes, spent and completely satiated.

Despite wanting to bathe in her presence a moment longer, I removed my hand, swallowed a breath, and took myself to the en-suite before things could get any more heated.

My fists clenched the sink as I spoke to my dishevelled and equally flushed reflection. “Shit. That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

That wasn’t supposed to fucking happen.

With the hope she fell asleep before I returned, I spontaneously stripped from my shorts, took a few steps back, and reached behind me to turn on the shower. A second later, I stood under the flow of the scorching water. The wet heat wrapped around me, temporarily abolishing the mess I’d got myself into as it beat down on my skin and relaxed the knots in my back. But with my cock still hard and standing to attention, I couldn’t do anything but take it in my fist.

And then, my eyes closed, and all I could picture was Blue’s face.

Her lips.

Her sexy as fuck legs in her next to nothing pyjamas.

The way they moulded to the perfect globes of her ass.

The way she purposely strutted her hips whenever she walked, as if she knew the power she held over the entire male species. Over me.

With one hand holding my weight on the wall of the shower, the other squeezed the head of my cock before beginning slow, torturous tugs up and down. It was all so fucking wrong, but it felt so good. So goddamn good.

I forced myself to think of something else. Relay an old memory of me and Sophia, or fuck, some recent porn. But it was no use. All I saw was Blue’s eyes looking into mine. All I felt was the wetness between her legs. Her legs shaking against my thighs as she came. It was her sassy mouth as my imagination stirred up a new scenario—her down on her knees, parting her full pink lips, ready to take me between them. A naughty glint in her eyes that told me she could take it.

She could.

And I knew what I’d do.

I’d let her deep throat my cock until I forced tears from her eyes. She’d like it. No, she’d fucking love it. Then I’d strip her bare. Lift her up. And once her legs were around my waist, I’d bury my cock deep in her pussy, and fuck her hard against the wall of this shower. Nothing but skin between us. My cum filling her up.

And up.

And up, and up.

“Fuck, Blue.”

My movements became faster, and then my head dropped down to see my release coating my fist, low groans leaving my mouth before my breathing could even out.

As soon as it was over, the guilt began to rot, leaving me feeling no more than a filthy fucking deranged pervert.

Shit, what was wrong with me?

I was sick.

Stepping out of the shower, I reached for Blue’s towel from the heated rail. No doubt another thing that was covered in her scent. I wasn’t sure how to feel that I’d still smell her all over me, even after getting clean. I wrapped the towel around my waist and picked up my gym shorts from the floor, popping them into the washing basket. By the time I returned to the bedroom, Blue was sleeping silently. And that’s where I left her as I made my way back to the kitchen, where I opened a fresh bottle of my favourite beverage.

Before I even had the chance to pour myself a glass, my phone lit up with a text from Noah. It was almost one in the morning, which only told me he was still at work.

Just a heads up, The Liberty Daily got wind of yours and Wez’s fight. Were you planning on telling me wtf happened, or was I gonna have to read about it in the paper tomorrow?

“Shit.” I threw my phone to the counter, poured myself a glass, and sank another three. Before I could even attempt to get a night’s sleep, I had to figure out what the fuck I was going to do about all the bad press we kept receiving. There was only so much bullshit a business could take before people believed it.

Fight? I texted back. It was nowt but child’s play.