“Who are you texting?” I glance at Tiller’s phone he’s holding in his hand and the text message that reads: Dome me up.
“What the fuck does dome me up mean?”
He laughs lightly. “What do you think it means?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Something to do with Star Wars?” You have to admit it’s a valid thought. He’s into those movies. He has Ninja Turtle sheets.
“You mean Star Trek?” Tiller shakes his head, as if having to correct me on my movies is painful for him.
“Whatever. What does it mean?”
Leaning back on the stool, he takes his right hand and then moves it slowly up and down over his dick like someone is giving him head. He doesn’t come out and say it because guess who’s sitting next to him?
Camden. They’ve corrupted that boy enough.
I stare wide-eyed at Tiller. “Has a girl ever liked you, Tiller.”
“No. Probably not.”
“Liar. He liked a girl once,” Shade adds, revving his bike and then jumping on the counter with it, knocking over Camden’s bowl of cereal.
For one, you’re wondering why I’m trying to figure out the mind of the demon, aren’t you? Wouldn’t you want to know more about Tiller Nathan Sawyer?
And two, you’re wondering why Shade’s on a dirt bike considering the dude broke his neck two months ago. That’s a good fucking question. Doctor said no trail riding or practicing for twelve weeks. Apparently—and you should know this too—Shade doesn’t follow the rules given by anyone.
Since the surgery, every day he gets a little bit more range of motion and decided, after five weeks, not to use the neck brace anymore.
Sighing, I look to Tiller. I’ve been living here for months, and I still don’t understand him. He’s a mystery I need to figure out. “So what happened with the girl you liked?”
Shade distracts me for a moment when he balances the entire dirt bike on the damn counter, grinning, then jumps off it and onto the floor in a fluid motion. Did I mention he’s technically not cleared to be on a dirt bike? Let alone one in the house jumping off counters.
“What are you doing?” I ask, shaking my head at him, but smiling because the grin on his face once he’s on a bike is unforgettable.
“Doctor said no trail riding,” Shade points out, as if I wasn’t there at the appointment. “He didn’t say anything about the house.”
“Pretty sure he meant no house too.”
Shade ignores me completely.
Tiller’s watching him closing, but leans his head toward me, giving me his ear. “What?”
“Oh, right. The girl.” Can you see my face? I’m very interested. “What happened with the girl you liked?”
“Oh.” He nods. “Her.” Do you hear the distaste in his voice? There’s a story behind her. “Well. . . ” He lets out the heaviest of sighs. “I gave her a flower and then I ate it. She kicked me in the balls.”
“Why’d you eat the flower?”
He shrugs and then kicks his foot out to knock Shade off the bike, but it doesn’t work. “Hell if I know. Why does any five-year-old do half the shit they do?”
Five. He hasn’t liked a girl since he was five?
“What was her name?”
This time he scowls at me as if he knows exactly what I’m doing and doesn’t appreciate my invasion into his privacy. “I don’t remember.”
Shade races by us at the counter and then does a front wheelie, swings the back of the bike around, hits the fridge with the back tire and the yells out, “Amberly Johnson.”
It’s sudden when Tiller reaches across the counter to the knives, retrieves one and straight up hurls it at Shade. Luckily, Shade is wearing a helmet, so when it hits the side of his helmet, it then falls to the floor.
My heart drops and I gasp. “Good God, Tiller.” I smack his arm. “Don’t do that. You could have killed him.”
“Whatever,” he mumbles. “He’s wearing a helmet.”
Shade—pissed off now—revs the bike. Oh no. I know where this is going. I point my finger at him. “Knock it off.”
He glowers at his brother, looking straight through me. I know what’s going to happen. He’s going to try something stupid and then get hurt all over again.
I have a choice. I could one, let this all play out. Tiller deserves some retribution here. He did throw a fucking knife at his brother.
Two, I could you know, flash my tits or maybe kiss him? There are definitely some possibilities. I’m all for the kissing, but he’s wearing a helmet and that could prove to be difficult.
Instead of flashing him, I stand up from the stool and walk over to him near the fridge. He’s set in position, up high on the seat, elbows up, ready to pounce on Tiller.
“Hey.” I take my palms and frame his helmet, forcing him to look at me but still mindful of his neck and not forcing his head. “If you get off this bike, and follow me up to your room I’ll give you a sponge bath.”
Guess what?
It works.
He’s off the dirt bike immediately and yanking me upstairs to his room. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
Crap. Why’d I offer that?
“Where’s my sponge bath?” Tiller asks with a sour edge and lifts his broken wrist. I swear since I’ve known him, he’s had at least one body part broken. Usually his wrists or arms.
I don’t reply because it will only provoke him, but Shade sticks his tongue out. “She likes me better.”
ONCE SHADE HAS me in his room, the door locked, he takes his helmet off first, gently, sets it on the bed and then reaches for his shirt. It’s harder for him to remove it, but I help him out, my hands shaking in the process. How am I going to get out of this one?
In the weeks since Shade’s accident, we haven’t exactly been good about the no sexual contact. In fact, we’ve pretty much ignored it and make out constantly.
There’s still kissing in the hall when his brothers aren’t looking or the late-night dips in the hot tub. But now look at us, we’re in his room with the door locked. Anything can happen in here.
With all my thinking, I hadn’t noticed he’d stripped down completely. And look at him, pay attention to the smirk. Now slide your eyes lower, if you dare.
“You got me naked, now what?” he asks, his predatory stare on mine.
My heart is pounding so hard it’s like my blood is pulsating with it. “I uh, suppose I should get you in the shower and help you clean up?”
His eyes move from mine to the bathroom door over my shoulder. “You should take your clothes off if you’re going to get wet.”
So I do. And now we’re both naked in the bathroom off his room. . . in the shower.
It’s the first time I’ve been naked in front of him. Well, other than that one time.
His eyes drift from mine, south, the spray hitting his back. “Now what?”
I shrug and the smirk returns. My heart thuds louder with each breath I take. “I should wash you, huh?” I ask, but not entirely sure if I should. We’re breaking the rules because I know where this could potentially lead.
Instead, Shade shakes his head, slowly. “No, I was thinking more along the lines of me washing you. . . ”
Oh.
Fuck.
Yeah.
And then he does. Only there’s no soap involved. Just his rough, calloused hands that feel like velvet on my skin. He starts out by touching my shoulders, then lower and cupping my breasts. His thumbs move over my nipple rings, sliding the barbells back and forth. I just changed them out the other day. These ones have a checkered flag on them.
The smirk returns. “Cute.”
“Thanks.”
Gently, he leans in, his mouth finding the same spot his thumbs just did, and while I want to shove his face lower to my clit, I don't because one, his neck is fragile, and two, we can't get out of hand.
Okay, so he’s sucking on my tits and his tongue is working its magic, I don’t know what to do with my hands. So they stay at my sides like a mummy.
Is your heart racing like mine? Are your insides flipping and jumping? Are you nervous like me?
Shade Sawyer has his mouth on my tits. I’m freaking the fuck out.
And visibly shaking to the point he stops what he's doing and stands straight.
“Are you cold?”
“No,” I stutter out like I’m standing in the snow naked. The thing is, being next to him, exposed, makes me feel like I am in the snow naked. “Just nervous. Which isn’t like me.”
“I won’t do anything you’re not ready for.”
Now I laugh because do you not remember who this is? Shade strives on making me uncomfortable and now he’s concerned with making me shake? Ha. Not likely.
“But you did promise me a sponge bath so really, this should be about me.”
Ah, yes, there’s the Shade I know.
Look south, again, if you dare because are you ready to see what’s below the tattooed chest and stomach?
I am. I’ve only seen glimpses of it while he’s changing, but I’ve definitely look.
Cock. It’s all I see. Massive, hard, swollen. . . you get the point; he’s hard and guess what?
Still has his piercing in! They removed it when they had a catheter in, but he promptly put it back in when he returned home from Spain.
It’s a barbell, much like my nipples and clit, which he hasn’t noticed yet and I assume that’s coming next because his hands go there, like a magnet.
“Fuck, that’s sexy.”
My hands finally move from their place at my sides, and I touch his length. “So is this.”
At my touch, he hisses and steps back, and slips against the wall, but catches himself by holding on to the shower head.
Did your stomach drop like mine? It takes me a moment for my heart to start beating again.
“Oh my God,” I yelp, using my hands to steady him. “Holy shit. Are you okay?”
He nods, carefully. “Yeah. I think.”
He doesn’t look so sure, does he?
I step away from him. “Okay, as much as I want to be in here, we can’t do this. In here. I’m not willing to risk you getting hurt.”
He swallows. “Good idea.”
As I’m drying off outside the shower, Shade groans, still under the spray. “This sucks.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
He peeks his head out. Oh look, he’s pouting. Isn’t it the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen? “I was really hoping for a happy ending.”
You and me both, buddy. Okay, so that didn’t go like I thought it would. When is Willa coming back?