Wicked Secret Page 4

  “I’m a match.”

  ♦

  I imagine this might be how it feels to be amped up on something like cocaine or meth, but I’ve never touched the stuff before so I can’t be sure. Anecdotal stories and personal observations from when I worked with the Vegas police department are what I’m basing it off, but I’d bet money how I feel resembles being high.

  I’ve never quite experienced this surge of adrenaline before. It doesn’t wane but rather stays steady. Even in my most dangerous situations with S.W.A.T., I’ve never experienced this humming in my blood or the hypersensitivity prickling at my skin.

  Whatever it is, I don’t want it to end. It’s causing such elation that I don’t even have a second thought about knocking on Leighton’s hotel room door. In fact, it never occurred to me to just call or text her the results of the HLA test.

  For whatever reason, I wanted to tell her the good news in person so I could share just how amazing this moment is with someone else.

  I knock again, harder this time. Eventually, I hear the lock unclick on the other side. I have to assume she carefully checked me out in the peephole before opening the door. She’s terrified someone from her dad’s past might know who she is and that she’s in Vegas right now, and I don’t blame her. I just wish she’d hurry.

  As expected, she doesn’t seem surprised to see me when she opens the door, merely a bit groggy since I obviously woke her up.

  Because I’m buzzing with adrenaline, which makes me hyper-aware of my surroundings, I certainly don’t miss how beautiful she looks even just rolled out of bed. Her short brown hair is a tangled mess. She doesn’t have her contacts in, her true blue eye color contrasting sharply against all that dark hair. In nothing but a tank top and sleep shorts, she has her arms protectively crossed over her chest, probably from both wariness of me and to provide some modesty to herself. Admittedly, I don’t like that she feels she needs to hide herself from me.

  “August?” She knits her eyebrows in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m a match,” I reply with a silly, wide grin.

  The news visibly wakes Leighton up. Her eyes flare wide, filling with wary hope. “Really?”

  “Really,” I drawl, spreading my arms in a silent request for… a hug?

  She reads me loud and clear, shrieking with what I’m going to guess is joy, although I’ve never heard that noise come out of her before. Before I can take a breath, she flings herself into my embrace. Her arms wrap around my neck so tightly I can barely breathe, but it doesn’t matter.

  I’m a match. I can be a stem cell donor for my kid, which means we now have a real reason to believe he’ll be okay.

  Leighton screams again, still in my arms. We jump up and down in place, and I start laughing because I feel giddy as shit. Damn, this buzz I have going is a good one.

  Suddenly, the hotel room next door flies open. A man pokes his head out, glaring at us. “For fuck’s sake,” he snarls. “People are trying to sleep here.”

  “Sorry,” Leighton immediately whispers, but then snickers.

  Shooting the man a charming smile, I bob my head in acknowledgment of our error. Settling my hands on Leighton’s shoulders, I push her into her room, kicking the door shut behind us.

  When we reach the area between the two full-sized beds, we stare at each other before simultaneously breaking into a happy but silent dance. Shaking our hips, we wiggle our butts, pumping our fists into the air. At one point, we hook arms by the elbows and swing around in a light-footed do-si-do, chuckling the entire time.

  We stop, still smiling, then fling ourselves at each other for another deep, tight, and grateful hug. We were given a miracle of sorts with these results, and we know it.

  I hold her tighter, the bitterness of our past not seeming to matter. At this point in time, I choose to ignore—though not necessarily forgive—the fact she never told me about Sam, because he now has a real chance at a long, healthy life that I’ll be a part of going forward.

  Leighton starts to pull away when I notice how fucking good she feels pressed against me. Lush and sweet-smelling. She still uses an apple-scented shampoo, and her skin under my palms is silky soft.

  And damn it, she continues to pull away slowly, her head slightly bent as if she’s afraid to let me see what’s on her face. I peer down, wondering what’s going through that beautiful head of hers.

  When she lifts her gaze, I’m rocked straight through to my core by the myriad of emotions I see there. Yes, she’s still overjoyed for her son, but there’s also need, uncertainty, and a bit of daring.

  Her lips part, revealing just a glimpse of straight teeth, and then her pink tongue slides along her lower lip.

  Fuck… is that an invitation?

  Later, I’ll look back on it and wonder—would I have still kissed her if I hadn’t been thrumming with the super adrenaline that was fucking with my senses and amping my feelings into overdrive?

  For now, though, all I care about is crushing that soft mouth under my firm lips in the hopes of extending this crazy buzz of a high.

  CHAPTER 6

  Leighton

  I have no right to look at August this way. He and I were over long ago. Not when I had to leave in the dead of the night with orders never to contact him or anyone else I knew ever again, but when I realized I was pregnant with Sam and decided to still abide by those same rules. It was one thing to accept WITSEC’s rules in order to protect mine and my dad’s life, but that choice became a murky gray area when I bore August a son without informing him.

  Which means I have no business turning August’s joy over being a donor match into anything else. Knowing we have a real shot at curing Sam’s disease should be enough for me.

  But damn it… I’ve never stopped loving August. I love him as much today as I did years ago. And it’s hard not to notice how great he feels pressed against me. He has filled out—in all the right places—and it has been so long since a man touched me.

  Almost ten years to be exact. The last time was in my childhood bedroom—with August—as we promised we’d be together forever while he’d been deep inside me.

  Add that August just gave me the happiest news I could ever hope to receive to my overwhelming memories… and it equals up to my emotions and rationality being a jumbled hot mess right now.

  I look up slowly—warily—and what I see on his face stuns me.

  Pure desire. There isn’t a single fleck of recrimination or bitterness, even though he must feel those emotions toward me.

  Immediately, yearning pools between my legs as memories of us hit me. Fueled by a near-hysterical gratitude that Sam now has a donor, my reaction is a recipe for all the wrong decisions.

  When August’s mouth slams onto mine, I don’t regret it one bit. Maybe I will tomorrow, but not tonight.

  Lust sizzles around us, seeming to cradle us in an electric cocoon as his tongue invades my mouth. If I open my eyes, I almost bet I’ll see brilliant sparks igniting—that’s how charged his kiss feels—but I don’t dare. I don’t want to break the spell or ruin one bit of this moment. Instead, I keep my lids scrunched tight and let myself get lost in the sensations.

  August’s hands are everywhere. Roaming from my face, to my shoulder, then stroking my arm before wrapping his fingers around my throat for a breath-stealing instant. After a quick squeeze, he moves to pull me possessively against his chest. Whether time has dulled some memories, or else been really good to August, it seems he has filled out in other areas as well. He’s impossibly big—hard and throbbing—and I can’t help but rub wantonly against his erection.

  He groans into my mouth. Where I want to smile triumphantly that I can elicit such a reaction from him, I can do nothing but gasp as I’m picked up and roughly tossed onto one of the beds. I bounce, the breath knocked out of me, but, before I can recover, my head starts to spin as August systematically strips me out of my clothes. It’s incredibly titillating, his look of almost feral possession when
he yanks my tank over my head and exposes my breasts. Briefly, modesty strikes and I consider covering them, but I lose the opportunity when he quickly rips my sleep shorts down my legs, dragging my panties right along with them.

  I’m naked, splayed on the bed, with August breathing heavily as he stares down. His gaze slowly roams over my body, and I wonder if he notices the stretchmarks I got from carrying his son. When he focuses on the area between my thighs, I practically combust as his hands frantically work to unbuckle his belt.

  There’s an unholy light in August’s eyes, his jaw locked tight as if he’s fighting for a measure of control. I can’t help but be mesmerized by the way he slowly undoes his top button, then lowers his zipper past his monstrous erection. I get a glimpse of the elastic waistband of his black briefs before he reaches inside and pulls out his cock.

  I melt into the bed at the sight. It’s dusky rose—slightly curved upward and mapped with a big vein along the underside. A bead of precum pearls on the tip, and my mouth waters. I have the insanely foolish urge to flip to my hands and knees, crawl across the mattress, and beg him for a taste.

  But insecurity starts to set in because August doesn’t appear all that happy for a man with his dick in hand and a naked woman on the bed before him.

  My legs start to slide toward each other, a warm blush rising up my chest and into my neck.

  This was a bad idea.

  “Don’t,” August growls so menacingly I instantly freeze. His eyes travel up my body, locking onto mine. “Don’t move.”

  Head tipping down, he squeezes his eyes shut. His lips move silently, and I’m not sure if he’s having a discussion with himself or perhaps praying to God for guidance.

  My heart starts a fearful drumming, but then August’s eyes open. Any doubt he may have been suffering is gone. Once again, yearning, need, and determination flashes across his face. Nothing is going to stop him now.

  Always one to lead, the one to demand and show me the way, August grabs my ankles, gives a mighty pull, and yanks my ass to the edge of the bed. Before I can even wonder about his intentions, his mouth is between my legs. At first, major embarrassment to have him so intimately connected to me rushes over me. I wonder about stupid things—like how well-groomed I am, if I smell good, and if my taste is good enough for him. Struggling to remember how long ago I last showered, I wonder if I should be polite and say what he’s doing isn’t necessary?

  Those beautiful, glorious moments of intimacy I’d had with him all those years ago fly out the window, essentially meaning nothing right now. I’m so overwhelmed that I can’t scrounge up a lick of confidence.

  It’s a good thing August doesn’t have that problem. If anything, he has more than enough for the both of us. Even though I tentatively put my hands on his head and give it a tiny push, August still buries his face between my thighs with gusto. He licks and sucks away, slipping his fingers deep inside me he works at my clit so expertly—with such hunger—I feel myself starting to tighten up everywhere. My back arches off the bed, my hips lift, and I gyrate against his mouth. I swear I hear him chuckle, maybe even feel him shake his head, but then he’s gone, nothing but cool air blowing across my wet, sensitive flesh.

  Barely getting my eyes open, I find August looming over me. How did my legs get spread so wide… and why does he suddenly look so freaking big?

  With one hand pressed into the mattress, August uses the other to take his cock in hand. He dips his hips, pressing the tip right to my entrance. Blowing out a breath, he brings his eyes to mine and holds me captive. I want to smile and assure him everything is perfect, but then my eyes practically cross when he thrusts deeply into me.

  I scream—not in pain but in pure fucking ecstasy—as he fills me up. August bottoms out, his pelvis pressed hard into mine.

  Baring his teeth, he mutters, “Fuck… that feels good.”

  If I could speak, I’d probably say something similar, but nothing seems to work. I can’t move. All I can do is lay there while impaled on his thick shaft, feeling pulses of pleasure take away every bit of my sanity.

  Trapped beneath his weight, feeling the perfection of him inside me, I know I’d let him do anything he wanted to me. It’s been so long. We used to have the world… but then I hurt him by taking it all away.

  If it gave him some measure of peace for all I’ve put him through, I’d let him take everything from me. Let him do his worst over and over again.

  August’s hand moves from where he’d been gripping the base of his dick to wrap his arms around me—engulfing me in a cocoon of an embrace until I’m pressed chest to chest with him. It’s not an intimately romantic gesture. Rather, he wants to take away any chance of participation I might have. I’m tangled in his web, stuck on his cock, and completely submissive to him right now.

  August starts to fuck me. A few slow, deep strokes that have me keening low in my throat. He’s so big that I’m stretched to capacity.

  He pounds harder into me, the insides of my legs straining to accommodate him. His cock dominates me, his arms pinning me to him. He punches deeper and deeper, rough grunts coming from deep inside his chest with every stroke.

  August presses his cheek to mine, his words guttural and claiming. “Always loved fucking this pussy.”

  Shamefully, my body reacts, my nipples tightening over his crass words. I think they were meant to both compliment and belittle me at the same time. I can feel how much he likes what he’s doing, but it was a pointed reminder that I’m nothing more than a vessel to him.

  Apparently, that doesn’t matter to my body. His dirty talk makes my blood sing. To my horror, a single, plaintive word slips free. “More.”

  August growls viciously, hammering his cock into me. The headboard starts banging against the wall of the room next door that houses the man we’d woken up earlier. For the life of me, I can’t even find it in me to care.

  Hell, part of me is actually turned on by the fact the man can hear me getting my brains fucked out.

  August repeatedly slams into me, the slapping sounds of skin on skin loud as his every stroke edges me closer and closer to an orgasm.

  But then, he slows. His arms around me loosen slightly, and he lifts his head so he can peer down. He fucks me by unhurriedly stroking in, pausing to grind against me, then leisurely withdrawing before repeating the process.

  “Just like last time we were together,” he says, but there’s a disconnect between his words and his tone. It’s flat, not sentimental at all. Despite the lack of emotion, his next statement both thrills and terrifies me. “I’m a different man these days, Leighton.”

  “How so?” I whisper, only to moan as he presses in deep once again.

  He grins, but not in a friendly way. It proclaims he knows things I don’t—and when I find them out, I’m going to be a different woman, too.

  “I think I’ll show you,” he muses.

  And once again, he’s gone, leaving me empty.

  After I process the loss, I watch as he moves all the pillows stacked near the headboard to a pile in the middle of the bed. He even rises to grab the ones from the other bed, and I’m fascinated by the thick length of him sticking out from between the teeth of his zipper. He hasn’t even removed his pants.

  I have no clue why all the pillows are now beside me. Suddenly, I’m wondering if suffocation is part of his game plan.

  That would still be an unknown as he picks me up, flips me over, and tosses me stomach down onto the pile. He rearranges them, even fluffing them up. Each movement tips my ass up higher into the air.

  Roughly, he spreads my legs apart, then I feel his jean-clad legs harsh against my skin. He palms my ass cheeks, using his thumbs to pull them apart.

  As my face flushes hot with embarrassment, his cock presses into me from behind. He kneads the muscles of my ass while he fucks me from behind.

  Christ… he feels even bigger from this angle—my torso angled down and my cheek pressed into the mattress. Peeking over my shoul
der, I feel a hot rush at how dirty it looks with my ass up in the air and him thrusting into me. August stares at my ass in fascination. It’s almost as if he’s in a dream-like haze when he sticks his forefinger into his mouth. I can’t turn away, hypnotized, as he rolls his tongue over the digit, thoroughly wetting it before pulling it from his mouth.

  What in the hell does he plan on doing with…

  The thought dissipates as I’m blinded by stars. Literally thousands of pinpoints of light obliterate my vision when he presses his finger deep into my ass.

  It’s too much for me. His thick cock in my pussy, his finger lodged in my ass, and the pure filth of the scene it creates all combine to make me explode like a cannon.

  I screech out my climax, feeling my ass mercilessly tighten around his finger. My pussy ripples as wave after wave of the most sinful, sensational, and mind-blowing orgasm rockets up and down my spine. My toes curl, my back arches and I shamefully moan out August’s name.

  Not sure what exactly sets him off, but he slams into me once more, grunting out his own release. That devious little finger slips out of me, his hands going to my hips to hold me still. He grinds against me, as if trying to purge every last drop of himself as deep into me as he possibly can.

  His body collapses, his weight pushing me into my pillow mountain before he rolls us to our sides. We’re both gasping for air. While I can’t speak for August, I feel deliciously broken in a way that makes me not ever want to be put back together.

  We lay side by side, his cock still partially in me from behind. I can feel his lower abdomen, still covered by his t-shirt, against my back, and his breath on my neck.

  Tensely, I wait—for words or even some level of affection. Even just an arm around my waist to pull me in a little closer.

  He holds still, doing nothing but inhaling and exhaling.

  I can’t stand the silence. Deciding to try to extend an olive branch, I’m grateful I can’t see his face right now or else I’d probably chicken out. “I’m glad we reconnected, August. Not only for Sam, but also because I’ve missed you.”