Forever & More: The Friend Zone series (4 page)

A few weeks after Tom was buried, Tanner Hough, Tom’s lawyer, contacted me to inform me that all of Tom’s assets were left in my possession. I was dumbfounded and in no shape to handle all of his affairs. I filed all the necessary paperwork to allow Sara to handle what I couldn’t, which was basically everything.

We sold all of his possessions including half of BAR. Brady purchased the other half shortly after I became full owner. I don’t want it but he couldn't get approved at the bank for the whole amount, and I figured I’d still need some income, so we split it, even though he makes all of the decisions regarding the business. The plan is for him to eventually buy me out, but it will still be a while until he’s able to do that, so until that time, I stay the silent partner. I kept a few of Tom's things that were very sentimental to him or myself, those are locked away in storage.

“Well? What do you think?” Skye asks.

“I think I should get a shower and get my boots on.” I smile shyly at him. His face lights up in shock. I have been so out of sorts lately, I think a night out is just what I need, what
we
need. I know he can tell I’ve been pulling away from him, it’s hard to explain. I want him with me, I need him by my side, always. But, at the same time, I need him at arm’s length. It’s not fair to him to put him through all of this, to make him suffer through my issues, but I don’t know what else to do.

His lips find their place against my temple. His touch causes a hundred hummingbirds to take flight in my stomach. Harley stands, reaches for Sara, and cradles her against his chest. A thought occurs to me, and with everyone being so focused on me, I feel the need to voice it.

“When do you go back to the doctor?” I ask Sara. She looks at the guys before focusing on me.

“Three days,” she states. Sara has been in a wheelchair since the accident. When she wrecked her car, the dash pressed into her knees and twisted her back at an awkward angle, dislocating a few disks and causing minor nerve damage, leaving her temporarily paralyzed from the waist down. I would feel a million times worse about being part of the reason she is immobile if she wasn’t such an attention whore. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes that she loves the way Harley dotes on her now that she has her new wheels, but what she doesn’t realize is he would give her that same attention with or without the chair.

“I wanna go,” I say.

Her eyes light up. “Really?” This surprises her, since I’ve become a hermit, only leaving the confines of my apartment to go to the cemetery and my necessary doctor appointments.

“Yes, really,” I reply.

Skye squeezes my shoulder in a silent display of support.

Enough of the mushy shit, I have to get moving before I talk myself into hiding from the world under the covers. I make a move to get off the bed, but Skye’s arm moves to my waist, holding me in place. Harley and Sara leave us and the second the door closes, I’m on my back.

He shifts his body so that he’s hovering over me. Every tight inch of him is pressing me into the mattress. His callused hands pull my arms above my head and he secures my wrists together. The heat radiating from his body feels like it’s going to burn me alive. His eyes bore into mine with such intensity, it makes me nervous, but I can’t look away. This position reminds me of the scene in my book earlier. That little reminder excites me. I press my legs together, trying to hide the fact that I’m soaked and needy. My nipples harden against my bra, causing them to rub against the material and creating an erotic fire of pleasurable friction.

“You sure about this? Going to BAR, I mean? You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable doing. I can stay here with you; we can grab a movie or something.” His minty breath fans my face. I pull my bottom lip in between my teeth, applying enough pressure to cause a small twinge of pain to distract me from the urge to devour his beautiful, full, pink lips. The desire to have this man deep within me is strong and growing with each passing minute.

Skye glances down and smiles devilishly when he notices my lustful glare and the pebbles under my shirt. He moves his face closer to mine. His mouth hovers so close that the moisture on his breath wets my lips. Skye begins to speak; he emphasizes each work with pressing his lips to mine. “Do.” Kiss. “You.” Kiss. “Want.” Kiss. “To.” Kiss. “Stay.” Kiss. “In?” He deepens the last kiss, emphasizing his words while caressing my tongue with his. When he pulls back, I’m left a panting, wanton mess.

“I could find other things for us to do, if you want to stay in,” he says smugly. The idea is so tempting, an enticement I want to give in to so badly. But I don’t, I need this night out. I plan on losing myself in alcohol, dancing, and the large crowd of people I know will be there.

On a sigh, I say, “I have to get out of this house and out of my mind for a while.” I didn’t mean to voice the last part aloud, but I don’t regret saying it. Skye’s expression is one of understanding and relief.

“All right, but on one condition.” His eyes match the playful tone in his voice. Anticipation courses its way through my veins, igniting every nerve ending and causing my pulse to race.

I finally find my voice and ask, “What’s the condition?” The words come out lustful and breathy. My southern drawl is more pronounced reminding me of Scarlett O’Hara from
Gone With The Wind
.

“This.” He jumps from the bed, opens the door, and shouts down the hall, “Order the pizza, we’ll be out in a few.”

I hear Sara shout, “Get ‘em stud!” Have I mentioned I fucking hate her? Skye laughs and turns back to me. The door shuts, he turns the lock on the handle and stalks across the space between us.

Each step is deliberate, like a man with one thing on his mind, and that’s to conquer and devour. With every step he takes, my heart slams harder and harder against my ribs. He reaches the side of the bed and lowers himself on his knees, kneeling in front of me. The only thing I can see from my position on the bed is the top of Skye’s head. I watch in fascination as he turns his head and plants tiny kisses on the inside of my knees.

With each kiss, he moves a little higher, stopping at the spot just below the apex of my thighs. I hear him inhale, causing my cheeks to burn. “Chloe, talk to me, baby. I wanna make sure you’re here with me every step of the way. If you’re not ready, then you need to tell me. I want you so badly. I feel like I’m going to explode from just kissing your kneecaps; I don’t know if I will last when I bury myself in you. So if you want me to stop, you need to tell me now.”

It’s in this moment that I decide there would be no stopping now, even if I wanted him to. I need this, not just for me but also for us. I have been so lost inside myself, so scared to feel that I forget on a daily basis how alive he makes me feel with the slightest touch. A touch that I’ve denied him of lately.

I have felt so disconnected from him, but I think it’s time to reconnect, even if it’s just for a little while. I want us to be close, like we were in the hospital. This is the chance to let him control me and see if what I fantasize about can be the cure-all I so desperately need. Question is, how do I get him to take control of me the way I crave? How do I say, “tie me up and make me forget” without scaring him off?

“I need you, Skye,” I say on a broken sob. This moment, right now, feels like a defining moment for us. Like it’s the beginning of something special. I’m not sure why I feel this way, but something tells me I should cherish this moment, to commit it to memory and store it away for the rest of my life. Without another word, his fingers find the clasp on my jeans and he unbuttons them quickly. After the zipper is lowered, he slips the rough denim and my panties down my legs at the same time, leaving me bare and exposed to the chill in the room and his hungry eyes.

He leans over me, hooks his arms under mine, and slides me up the bed. I dig my heels into the bed to help. When I lift my hips to push myself up the mattress, his hardness presses into me. The contact causes every muscle in me to clench in need.

“Skye, please don’t make me wait. I–I can’t. I need you inside of me.” I emphasize my words by roughly grinding my softness into his steel. He releases a feral growl from deep in his chest before he dives into my neck. His teeth scrape my skin, causing my toes to curl. There is no softness in this moment between us, just writhing bodies, grasping hands, and heavy breathing. It makes me think about the characters in my book and the raw need they have for each other; I want that. Right now, I need that so bad that if I don’t get it, I feel like my chest will cave in on my heart and bury it forever. I reach up and run my fingers through his hair, which is a little longer than usual and I love it. I fist it tightly and pull so that he’s facing me.

When our eyes lock together in a heated stare, I say through gritted teeth, “I need you to be rough. I want hard, I want fast. I want you to pound yourself so deep and so hard into me that your cock feels like it’s going to come out of my ears.”

He says nothing, he doesn’t have to. I can read his expression as if it were my own. He’s concerned, he’s scared he pushed me too far too fast.

But, he’s wrong. I want this from him. I want him to dominate me. I need him to take over my mind by using my body and make me forget everything. To make me feel anything else besides the grief and rage that has become a permanent presence in my heart.

He moves himself into position, placing the engorged head of his penis at my soaking wet entrance, moving it back and forth. Before he can enter me, I thrust my hips up and slide down the bed a fraction, causing him to impale me in one quick movement.

Skye stills, checking for any sign that he may have hurt me from the sudden invasion. I lick my lips and begin to move my hips, hoping he takes the hint and starts grinding with me.

His movements are slow and careful, treating me as if I’m fragile. I growl out, “harder,” but he ignores me. After a few moments of the tender lovemaking, I huff in annoyance. I take him off guard when I push him over and straddle his waist. He starts to protest, but I quickly silence him when I pierce myself on his hard length.

My hips move as if they have a mind of their own. The sounds of my lustful cries and skin slapping together are the only noises to be heard. My orgasm builds rapidly, but I need more. “Pull my hair,” I say on a moan.

“Chloe, I really think—” he starts to say, but I cut him off.

“Just do it! I need you to do this for me. Skye, please!” I beg.

He runs his hands up my back; his fingernails scrape the nape of my neck as they intertwine in my hair. The stinging sensation on my scalp spurs me into action. My thighs squeeze his waist as I glide my hips back and forth over him, faster and faster until I think I am about to explode.

My body’s drenched in sweat, the aroma of fresh sex is thick in the air, and I feel a-fucking-live for the first time in months. Cupping a breast in each palm, I start to squeeze them tightly, massaging them to the point of pain. I work my hands forward until I’m pinching my hard nipples between my thumb and index finger. Skye lifts up, takes the hard nub from my right hand into his mouth. He grinds it between his teeth and the sensation is unremarkable.

I shriek when I’m pushed backward and flipped over onto my knees. Without warning, he slams himself into me from behind, pounding into me relentlessly. My body begins to hum with excitement, the orgasm that was building is now assaulting me with the full force of a hurricane.

“This what you want?” he growls into my neck.

“God, yes. YES!” I scream. His teeth clench on to the tender skin of my neck, the feeling causes me to explode around him. A few more thrusts into my quivering sex and Skye erupts deep inside me. We both lay breathless and spent next to each other a few moments before Skye speaks.

“Are you okay?” The concern in his voice is thick. His hot breath heats my neck with each pant.

“Yes, I’m great actually,” I reply. Before he can speak, there’s a knock on the door.

“Are you two love birds done trying to tear down the house? The pizza’s here and I’m tired of listening to y’all go at it like wild cats.” Fucking Sara.

Skye laughs and rolls off the bed. I watch quietly as he pulls his pants back on. “I’m going to go fix us a plate. You sure you’re good?”

I smile widely, hoping I can convince him to believe my lie. “I’m great.” I get up, walk to him, and give him a peck on the cheek.

He leaves and I wait until the door clicks shut; I run to the bathroom. I’m barely on my knees in front of the toilet before I spill my guts.

Once my stomach is empty, I get up, brush my teeth, and slip back into my clothes. The feeling of doom and desperation creeps back in. I’m disappointed at how quickly my brooding mood returns after such amazing, dominating sex. What the hell is it going to take to pull me out of this funk?

I can hear her heaving from the hallway, the tormented sounds of her spilling her guts makes me want to run to her, but I know I’m not wanted. Since Tom died, nothing has been the same. Chloe’s become this completely different person; she’s moody, depressed, and so ill-tempered that whenever she enters the room, even the air around her becomes angry. Everyone’s been walking on eggshells around her, worried that one of us will be the one to push her over the razor’s edge she’s been teetering on.

I’m at a loss for what to do. She has me at arm’s length one second, but in the next, she clings to me like a lifeline. Those moments when she needs me close are the ones I cherish the most, especially since they are growing further and further apart.

My phone vibrates, pulling me from my thoughts. I pull my phone out and glance at the screen; Detective Sanders name lights up. I answer it, knowing I can’t ignore his calls much longer. “Hello?” I say in an irritated tone.

“Skye, this is—”

I interrupt him. “Detective, give me just a minute.” I walk quickly toward the front door. When I pass the kitchen, I can feel Sara and Harley’s questioning stares, so I raise my finger in the universal, “wait a second” gesture.

As soon as the door shuts, I say, “How can I help you?” I’ve spoken to him on several occasions, each and every conversation is the same as the one before. Todd’s trial is getting closer and they want Chloe to take the stand. Every time, I tell him the same thing, they have enough evidence without having her relive the accident.

He’s adamant about having her testify though, says it will cement his fate in Johnson State Prison.

“Skye, I really must speak with Chloe. Is she available, or can you give me another contact for her?”

I sigh heavily into the phone but remain silent.

“Look, I didn’t want to play this card, but if you don’t have her call me, or turn me away again when I come looking for her, I am going to file charges against you for interfering with an ongoing police investigation.”

I bristle at his comment, but the finality in his voice is enough to convince me he isn’t joking. The seriousness of his threat weighs heavily on my shoulders.

With a sigh of defeat, I say, “I can bring her to the station tomorrow afternoon. I’m not sure she will be willing to testify. Also, I need you to keep her psychological well-being in mind throughout this process. Chloe has been—” I pause for a moment, trying to come up with a better word for what I want to say but settle on, “—different.”

“I’m sure Ms. Thomas is having a hard time processing the past three months, but I assure you, her well-being is at the top of my department’s priorities. We will not push and will go at her pace.” His tone softens a bit and I feel a little better about the detective speaking with her.

It’s not that I don’t want that asshole locked up. I’m just worried about Chloe, I want to lock her in a bubble, away from the world, and protect her. I know that’s unrealistic, but the overprotective male in me is constantly mocking me and screaming that I have failed to protect her once already, I refuse to do it again.

It doesn’t matter to me if I’m protecting her from someone else or herself, the bottom line is, she’s mine; nothing and no one will
ever
cause her any pain in any form again.

“How does two o’clock work for you?” he asks.

“That’s fine, see you then,” I reply. He ends the call without another word.

As I’m pushing my phone back into my pocket, the front door opens. Chloe appears in the doorway looking even more beautiful than the last time I saw her. I give her my most charming smile, hoping she is in a better place and mood now that’s she’s sated.

“Hey.” The way her stunning pink lips curve into the shy smile causes my cock to twitch.

The vulnerability in her eyes makes them shine bright. I take a step forward and wrap my arms around her small body. Since the hospital, Chloe has lost a total of fifteen pounds, her lack of eating and the occasional vomiting is to blame for this. She’s happy with the disappearance of her weight, but I try to explain to her it’s not the weight I’m concerned with, it’s the way she lost it.

The smell of strawberry and vanilla hits my nose, causing my mouth to water. That divine smell will forever be associated with Chloe and cause me to drool like a begging Mastiff at just the thought of the bright red fruit. I leave one arm wrapped around her waist and lift the other. Running my hand through her still wet hair elicits a moan of appreciation from her. I move my mouth closer to hers; when our lips meet, mint explodes across the tiny buds on my tongue. I pull her body in closer to mine while she wraps her arms around my neck.

She pulls back, the mint that was dancing across my taste buds is now assaulting my face with her heavy pants of desire. Her nipples are pebbled and pressed into my chest. Once she catches her breath, she looks at me with wide, glassy eyes. “Who was that?” Her voice comes out lazy and slurred. Her southern accent more pronounced.

“You okay?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Yep! I’m fine as frog hair. Whatcha’ doin’ out here?” Chloe is acting so strange, like she’s drunk. Something is definitely up. I make a mental note to ask Sara and Harley if they notice it too, or if I’m just being paranoid. Unease hangs over me like one of those cartoon rain clouds that follows you around, raining on just you. I move around Chloe; one hand remains on her waist in a possessive gesture. I open the door and guide Chloe inside the apartment.

At first, I think we’re going to eat with Harley and Sara, but when Chloe walks past the kitchen, I follow.

Once we both enter in the room, I release my hold on her. I close the door and spin around to find Chloe sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread, shorts pulled to the side, and assaulting her sex. Her head lolls back and she moans. I lock the door, I don’t need Sara or Harley walking in on this.

“Baby? What are you doing?” I hate the way my voice comes out sounding like a little boy going through puberty.

“I’m doing what you should be doing, Skye.” Her statement catches me off guard. I’m not sure what to do, she’s never been so forward. My head and cock scream at me, telling me to dive into her inviting heat, but my heart tells me something’s off and to be very careful about how I handle this.

Her hips begin to gyrate against her fingers. Her swollen lips glisten in the dimly lit room, taunting me, testing my restraint. My cock strains against the denim of my jeans, growing harder with each thrust of her fingers.

A breathless moan escapes her parted lips and all rational thoughts leave me. My body flies across the space between us. I’m towering over her before either of us realizes I’ve moved. Our mouths meld together with a force that causes my teeth to clash with hers.

I back up and she raises a trembling finger to my lips but never makes contact. Her eyes dance with lust and excitement as she watches me caress the tip of her finger with my tongue. Slowly, I trail my tongue down her middle finger to the inside of her palm, nipping gently at her skin. When I reach her wrist, I plant a small kiss on the sensitive skin.

Chloe raises her hips, grinding herself into my throbbing steel. I close my eyes reveling in the exquisite feeling of her pressing against me, silently begging me to be inside of her. I shift my weight off of her and she slides up higher on the bed.

I quickly find the button on her cut off jean shorts and work it free. Within seconds, she’s naked from the hips down and rapidly working on removing her top. I take a moment to relish in the beauty before me for the second time within the hour. Her strawberry-blond hair is fanned across the pillow, her tanned skin stands proudly next to the pale flesh that’s been protected by her clothing; even the dip in her collar bone right below her throat excites me.

It amazes me how that one little spot can turn me on to the point of pain. I kneel on the bed at her feet, gazing at her smooth, ivory skin stretched out before me. She becomes squeamish under my stare, her eyes begging for my touch.

Leaning forward, I reach for her legs and trail my fingers upward, achingly slow. A thousand tiny bumps spread across her as she squirms at my touch. The air in the room becomes so hot and stifling that sweat starts breaking across my upper lip.

“Skye, please,” she begs.

I lean forward and dip my head between her parted legs. Her back arches, her fingers find their way into my hair, tugging lightly. She gasps for air and squeezes her thighs against my ears. I find the bundle of nerves that drive her crazy, pull it into my mouth, and suck. When I hear her harshly fill her lungs, I plunge two fingers deep inside of her.

Her sex clenches my fingers tightly, milking them as if they were my cock, and in this moment, I wish they were. My scalp prickles right before she cries out, “Skye, now… I need you now.” She pulls my hair and writhes against my face again.

I dip my head and press my tongue flat against her taint, dragging it upward slowly until I hit her clit. Her body shudders, then starts to convulse with another orgasm. I suck hard on her nub until her movements become small and jerky, indicating that she’s completely ridden out the wave of ecstasy that rocks her.

I climb up her body, but before I can reach her mouth, she pushes me over until I’m lying on my back. When she straddles my hips, my erection sits proudly in the crack of her glorious ass. She wiggles against it in a teasing manner. Her evergreen eyes are wild with yearning, and the smile that lights her face is full of seduction. Chloe lifts her hips and slides against me. Her wet folds allow her to glide over me easily.

The moment I close my eyes, her movement ceases. Her soft heat is replaced by her warm mouth. Her plush lips wrap around me and it’s almost too much. My hips move on their own, thrusting me into the back of her throat. The movement doesn’t affect Chloe’s actions in the least. She continues to bob her head up and down hastily, taking in all of me.

Chloe’s and my lovemaking has always been full of passion and tender. But this is the roughest we’ve ever been with each other. There’s an underlying desperation to her need for me.

Her tongue circles my engorged head. My spine tingles from the motion and my balls draw up, threatening to explode. “Chloe, stop,” I plead.

She glances at me through thick lashes and drooping eyes but ignores me. She fists the base of my cock and moves her head up and down faster.

I’m so close to exploding in her sweet mouth it becomes an excruciating ecstasy and as appealing as the idea is, the need to be buried deep inside of her is stronger. I lean forward, hook my arms under hers and pull her up. My cock springs from the confines of her mouth with a loud pop causing my whole body to twitch.

“Take me from behind.” Her words cause several alarms to go off inside my head, but I’m so riddled by love, lust, and adoration, I push them to the back of my mind. Chloe spins around, kneeling on all fours, ass in the air, and face buried into the mattress.

I crawl up behind her and rub the head of my dick against her slick, swollen folds. I slide it up and down a couple of times, causing her to wiggle her ass against me, trying to impale herself. She grunts in frustration right before I pierce her.

I start out with long, slow strokes.

“Harder, Skye. I need it harder.”

I pick up my pace. She grabs the comforter and moans in approval. When I pull back, she pulls away, too. She slams herself onto me before I can push forward. It feels
so
good. She repeats the motion again and I can’t stand it anymore. I pick up the pace and slam myself into her, harder and faster each time we connect and pull away. Our skin slaps together, making loud smacks in the otherwise silent room.

She begins screaming “harder” and “yes” like a crazed, wild cat, encouraging me to take her rougher. My balls tighten and my body hums with excitement. Her walls clench around me, her body stiffens, and she releases a high pitch wail that causes my ears to ring. My body falls in step with hers and I spill my seed inside of her, her name a whisper on my lips.

Chloe’s body collapses underneath mine, face down on the bed. A grunt escapes my lips as I slide out of her. The feel of her soft, swollen flesh sliding over my sensitive rod feels phenomenal. I lie beside her and begin to draw lazy circles with the tips of my fingers on her back.

“You okay?” I ask to fill in the silence that sits heavy in the room.

She mumbles into the wrinkled comforter. I lazily glide my finger up her spine until I reach her shoulder blade. I gently cup her shoulder and pull lightly. She rolls over until she’s resting on her back.