by Roni Loren
She didn’t think she had anything else to give, but she held on, happy to be along for the ride until he reached his high. But before long, she felt the pressure building in her again, the tide washing out and rushing back in.
“Pike,” she said on a gasp.
Then he had his hand tucked between them, stroking her clit, and she was shattering again. This time she couldn’t keep her noises to herself. But before she could get herself into trouble, Pike’s hand came up and clamped over her mouth.
He pumped hard into her, the seams to his calm control fraying and popping along with hers. Her headboard rattled, their skin collided with hard slaps, and she came hard and loud, screaming into his hand in a way she’d never screamed before. Guttural, primal, teeth clenched.
The sound seemed to send him over the edge and he buried deep and fucked into her with long, hard strokes as he tipped over into his own release. Everything about the moment was beautiful: the sweat on his skin, the straining muscles in his neck, the filthy words falling out of him. But most of all it was the way he didn’t look away from her, the way he pinned her with his gaze and gave her everything in that look. No filters, no bullshit. Just him and what they were sharing together.
She wanted to drown in the moment, roll around in the feeling of it.
And in that brief stretch of seconds, she knew she would not run from this man. Not anymore.
Good sense be damned.
She was doomed.
She was falling in love.
TWENTY-FOUR
Oakley sucked in ragged breaths and reached for the vibrator’s remote to shut it off as Pike draped over her, spent from his own release. She should be panicking now that she knew she’d developed feelings for this man. But she couldn’t find it in herself to be scared right now. Everything tasted too sweet. Too perfect.
Pike buried his face in her neck. “God, you’re the best girl ever.”
She laughed at his exuberance. “That’s what all the guys say when they have their dick parked in that particular girl.”
He lifted his head and kissed her lips. “No, they say that she was the best sex ever. You’ve got the whole package, Easton. I like the woman, not just the raunchy sex. Although, that’s a highlight, too.”
She let her fingertips trace over the curve of his ass. “Well, I’m just with you for your body. Just so you know.”
“I can live with that.” He flashed her a grin.
“We should probably, like, get up and shower and stuff. Someone will be getting up soon.” She traced his eyebrow with her fingertip, toying with the piercing there.
“Do I have to?” he said, turning his head and kissing her palm. “I think we should just stay like this for the rest of the day.”
“Hmm. An interesting plan, but it could get sticky. You know, when that stuff dries …”
He chuckled. “Good point.”
He pushed himself up on one arm. First, he gently slid the plug out of her. Then he reached down to grab the base of the condom as he slid out.
Oakley closed her eyes, enjoying the spent state of her muscles. A morning in bed would be lovely. Her and Pike naked all day, making love when they felt like it, getting take-out and watching movies. It was a nice fantasy. Maybe one they could indulge in when Reagan did her next sleepover at Devon’s.
“Oh, shit.”
The tone of Pike’s voice cut right through that fantasy. Oakley’s eyes popped open. “What?”
When Pike didn’t answer, she rose up on her elbows. His whole face had gone a shade of pale.
Her stomach clenched. “What’s wrong?”
Pike lifted the condom. No. He lifted the remnants of a broken condom.
Panic surged, and everything inside her went cold at the feel of warm fluid moving down her thighs. “Oh my God.”
“Okay, okay.” Pike wet his lips. “It’s okay. I’m clean. I get tested regularly. And haven’t been with anyone since the last test. And I always use condoms. So you’re on birth control and haven’t been with anyone either, so we’re good.”
No. No. No. Oakley’s hands were shaking. This could not be happening. “Pike, we’re not okay.”
“What?”
“I’m not on birth control.”
“What?” Now his face went truly white. “What woman isn’t on birth control?”
The accusation in his voice made hers go shrill. “A woman who’s been celibate for five years and can’t afford an unnecessary prescription. What kind of question is that?”
“Shit. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He was frantic now, tossing the condom to the side and raking his hands through his hair. “It’s just—shit. Okay, we’re still all right. They have those morning-after pills, right? I can go to the pharmacy and get you some. I can go right now.”
He jumped up to pull on his jeans, his movements jerky.
But Oakley could only wrap her arms around herself, the room and moment moving too fast around her. She closed her eyes, trying to calm down. She could get pregnant. Pregnant.
Eleven years later and she was facing this blow-your-world-up thing again. She couldn’t get pregnant. She was almost thirty. Pike was a fling. She was alone. She had a daughter she struggled to support already. She could not get pregnant.
“I’ll be back in less than half an hour,” Pike said, pulling on his shirt. “Just take a breath. It’s going to be all right. You go shower, and I’ll go to the store.” He walked to the side of the bed and leaned over to kiss her quickly. He touched his forehead to hers, his hand trembling where he held her face. “We’re all right, mama. These things happen. We can fix this.”
Fix this.
They were words Liam had said to her once upon a time.
Fixing that would’ve meant not having Reagan.
Her insides wanted to fold in on themselves. She couldn’t form words.
Pike was out the door before she even had the chance.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Pike had to go to three stores before he found what he needed, and by the time he got in the car with the package in his hand, he was sweating and felt like he was going to vomit. He leaned his head back against the seat and tried to rein himself in.
This didn’t have to be a big deal. Condoms break. Shit happens. That’s why there were backup plans. Hell, he was probably freaking out over nothing anyway. The chances of Oakley getting pregnant from one encounter were probably low. And this pill would be the safety net. But he still had this sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t get the look Oakley had on her face when he left out of his head. She’d looked … traumatized. And he’d hightailed it out of there like his ass was on fire.
Smooth. Real smooth. But he’d had a knee-jerk reaction. He was always so careful with women. He’d been warned early on in his career that some girls would take advantage of guys in his position by getting “accidentally” pregnant and then asking for money. And he’d certainly seen enough unplanned children in his own household growing up. The thought of it happening to him had sent sirens going off in his head. His reaction had been panicked and automatic.
He just needed to get back to Oakley and everything would be fine. He’d apologize for his reaction. They would handle it and move on.
But when he knocked on the door to Oakley’s place, drugstore bag in his hand, Reagan was the one who answered the door. Her hair was sticking up on end, but she’d changed out of her clothes from last night into pajama pants and a Tegan and Sara T-shirt. “Hey, Mr. Pike. What are you doing here?”
He tried to school his expression into a jovial one. “Just wanted to stop by and see how you and the bionic arm were doing.”
She raised her arm. “I’m okay. But I won’t be able to play guitar for the Bluebonnet songs. Mom says I’m going to have to get a cast for a long time. It’s not fair.”
“That does stink, kiddo. But I bet we can find some job for you in the group.”
She huffed a world-weary sigh. “I guess so.”
“Where
’s your mom?” he asked, hoping his voice didn’t sound as tense as he felt.
“Making farm breakfast. You want some? You should. It’s really good.” She gave a sage nod of her little head.
“Sure.” He gripped the bag at his side and walked with Reagan to the kitchen. “What’s farm breakfast?”
“All the yummy stuff. Bacon. Eggs. Cheese grits. She makes it every Sunday morning. No cereal allowed.”
“Sounds great.”
When they entered the kitchen, Oakley was at the stove, sporting jeans and a long-sleeved blue T-shirt. Her hair was drying in waves down her back, her feet were bare. From the outside looking in, she appeared totally at ease. A mom cooking breakfast on a slow Sunday morning. But when she turned and met his eyes, he could tell she was anything but. Worry sat heavy in her gaze. “Hey.”
“Can Mr. Pike stay for breakfast, Mom?”
Oakley’s attention shifted to her daughter. She gave her a tight smile. “Sure, baby.” She turned her back to Pike, her hand stirring, stirring, stirring whatever was in the pan. “You like your eggs over easy or scrambled, Pike?”
“Either’s fine for me. Do you need any help?”
“I’ve got it.” Stir, stir, stir. Her movements were harsh, too forceful—the only outward sign that she was probably freaking the fuck out inside.
He wanted to go over to her and wrap his arms around her, assure her everything was going to be fine, but with Reagan sitting there he couldn’t do any of it. He’d just have to wait for his chance to talk to her alone.
He did manage to walk over and lay the bag on the counter next to her. Her eyes slid to it. She grabbed it quickly and tucked it on a high shelf in the cabinet near the stove.
Reagan didn’t seem to notice the exchange. She was busy pouring them all glasses of orange juice. And as soon as Pike sat down at the table, Reagan started chatting. She told him and her mom all about camping and her harrowing bike ride. And she got all excited telling them about building the campfire and how Uncle Hunter had almost set the whole forest on fire trying to get one started. And then there was something about a one-eyed deer sighting.
For a kid who’d spent the night in the ER, she seemed fresh and spry this morning. And in a way, Pike was thankful for the running commentary. It kept him from jumping out of his skin while waiting to talk to Oakley. They all tucked into their breakfast, but he noticed Oakley mostly pushed her food around her plate. He didn’t have much of an appetite either, but he didn’t want either of them to think he was ungrateful for the invite.
When Rae was finished with all of hers, complete with a second helping of cheese grits, she asked her mom if she could have her video-game time. Oakley sent her on her way, and Pike started clearing the dishes. The minute he heard the game blaring in the living room, he walked over to shut the kitchen door then went to Oakley, grabbing her elbow. “Hey, you okay?”
She stilled, a frying pan in her hand. “I’m fine.”
“Look, I know it’s been a stressful morning, but everything’s going to be okay. You can take the pill now and you’ll be protected.”
She nodded. “Right.”
“Do you want me to get you some water?”
She turned at that, jaw tight. “Why? Want to make sure I take it?”
“I—” He stumbled on his words, surprised at the bite in her voice. “I mean, I just figured you’d want to take care of it as soon as possible. I think it’s supposed to be most effective within twenty-four hours.”
She set the pan down and crossed her arms over her chest. The pose would’ve normally looked tough, but instead it looked vulnerable, like she was trying to hold herself together. And sure enough, her eyes went shiny when she tried to talk.
“Hey,” he said, stepping closer, putting his hand on her arm. “What is it? Talk to me.”
She lowered her head, pinching the bridge of her nose and breathing deep like she was trying to not fall apart right in front of him. “I can’t do this, Pike.”
“You can’t what, baby? Can’t deal, can’t what?”
She shook her head. “I can’t take the pill.”
His stomach dropped and his throat went tight. “What do you mean? Are you allergic or something?”
She looked up, stark emotion in her eyes. Fear. Pain. “I mean I won’t take it.”
Everything inside him chilled, dread curling around his bones and gripping hard. “Oakley …”
She pressed her lips together, a tear falling over this time. She swiped at it roughly. “I was supposed to get rid of Reagan. When I found out I was pregnant, her father sent me home with a plane ticket and money for an abortion. I went to the clinic and was an hour away from doing it. If I hadn’t panicked at the last second … if I’d gone through with it …” She looked toward the living room, a million unspoken words on her face. “I just … I can’t.”
He stared at her for a long second, the reality of what she was saying taking time to line up in his head. But when the words finally fell into order, he nearly bent over with the impact. “Oakley, you can’t mean to risk … I mean, we can’t, I don’t—”
“It wouldn’t be your problem.”
He leaned back against the counter, gripping it for support. “What?”
“The chances of anything happening are slim. But it’s my choice not to take the pill, so it will be my situation to deal with. I’m not going to expect anything from you, so you can relax.”
“Relax?” he said, working hard to keep his voice down. “What? You get pregnant and then I just fucking brush off the fact that there’s this kid out there who’s mine?”
Kid. Mine. Jesus Christ. The world spun in his vision for a moment, and he gripped the counter harder.
She tipped her face toward the ceiling like she was asking for some divine intervention. “Come on, Pike. I know this situation sucks—it may not even be a situation. But if it is, what are you suggesting as an alternative?” She met his eyes. “All of a sudden you’d be down with being a father? How would that work? You’d stop in during tour breaks for a visit?”
He raked a hand through his hair, fisting the strands. Panic was rising to drowning level, stealing his air. “God, I don’t know, Oakley. But what about you? You’re not set up for another kid. You already have your hands full.”
“I’d figure it out. I always do.” The words were strong but her voice shook when she said them.
He looked at her then, really looked at her. Despite the fierce determination in her eyes, she was trembling. This was Oakley’s brave face. He stepped forward, putting his hands on her upper arms and rubbing them, trying to comfort her in the midst of his own anxiety attack. “Baby, we need to take a breath here—both of us—and not let our emotions run away with us. I hear what you’re saying about what happened with Reagan, I do. I hate that you had to go through that, and I want to beat down the guy who took advantage of you and put you through it. But this is a different situation entirely. I talked to the pharmacist. This just prevents the pregnancy from happening. It doesn’t end one that’s already there. It’s not the same decision you were faced with back then.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks, tearing his goddamned heart out, but he had to say his piece.
“I get that this is bringing up a lot of stuff for you, but think through this. Do you really want to take this risk right now? You’re on the way to a promotion. You’re getting settled into the life you want with Reagan. A pregnancy—a baby—would blow that up. Neither of our lives are equipped for this.”
She looked down at the floor, her body still trembling beneath his hold. Her voice was soft when she spoke. “I’m giving you your out, Pike. Take it. This is your pill.”
The words stabbed into him and twisted. That’s what she expected him to do? If she got pregnant, she thought he was the type of guy who would walk away and leave her saddled with his child. Like he was no better than his father or the men who’d come and gone out of his mother’s life.
He reached
down and cupped her chin, lifting her face to him. “Is that what you really think of me? That if you went through with a pregnancy, I’d bail on my kid and leave you to foot the bill. Just go on with my life like it never fucking happened?”
She held his gaze, a slight wince crinkling her eyes, but she didn’t refute the accusation.
That stung even deeper than he expected.
“Jesus, if that’s what you think of me, I don’t know why you’d let me in your house, much less your bed.” He stepped back and crossed his arms, anger simmering up now. “Or maybe you just wouldn’t want someone like me to be involved. I’m just supposed to be the hookup, right? The guy to get off with but not one you’d want around for too long.”
“Pike …”
“You know what, screw it.” He grabbed his keys from the counter. He needed to get out of there. The room felt too small, the air too stifling. “It’s your body, your decision. But know that if you get pregnant, it’s our baby. You’ll have to deal with me for the rest of your life. No way my kid is going to lie in bed at night wondering why his daddy isn’t around. I’ve been that fucking kid. It sucks.”
Oakley stared at him like he’d spoken a foreign language.
“I’ll drop your car off within the hour.”
With that, he strode past her to the back door so he could avoid going by Reagan and stormed out of the house, his heartbeat booming in his ears. When he got in his truck, his lungs felt as if they couldn’t expand and he was sweating all over. He drove to his studio, parked in the back, and let the full brunt of the panic roll through him, ugly, awful sensations choking him.
Worst part was he had no idea what was freaking him out more. That Oakley might become pregnant. Or that he’d just lost the one girl who’d made him feel something.
He rested his forehead against the steering wheel just as his phone dinged with a text.
He reached out and grabbed it, hoping it was Oakley, hoping that maybe this could turn around, but instead Braxton’s picture was displayed. He clicked on the message.
Braxton: We landed the fucking Wanderlust tour! Scooooore! Call me.