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Deceit in Bloom (The Love Unauthorized Series Book 1) Page 18
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“Paisley . . . you know I’m not letting you stay because you and I’ve slept together, right? You could end that between us, and I’d still want you here. You know that, right?”
She doesn’t say anything, and I take that as my answer. She doesn’t know. “You’re here because it’s my fault you’re in a dangerous mess. You’re here because Braelyn kicked you out, and most importantly, you’re here because I want you here. It has nothing to do with the sex. I mean, the sex is great, but this . . . you and me, the reason you’re here has nothing to do with that.”
Paisley still doesn’t look convinced. I get the hint there is something else bothering her.
“What? There’s something you’re holding back.”
She closes her eyes, hiding herself from me.
“Did you fuck someone at the party tonight in the bathroom?”
There it is.
“Paisley, look at me.”
My hand reaches for hers, but her stubborn eyes stay closed.
“Please look at me.”
I gently stroke the skin of her hand in mine until she finally opens her eyes. I have her complete focus, so I explain what happened.
“I did not fuck anyone at the party tonight. A server handed me a note. The note simply read, ‘Meet me in the bathroom.’ I assumed it was from you.” I pause to make sure she’s following along with the story and giving me her complete attention. “When I entered the bathroom, I quickly realized I was wrong when there was some middle-aged woman in there waiting for me. She threw herself at me, but I quickly shut her down. When I opened the bathroom door to leave, Braelyn was waiting. She immediately realized I wasn’t alone, and I knew she came to the wrong conclusion.” Then the manipulative bitch used the situation to hurt Paisley. I should have told her about the confusion right away, but there was a lot going on.
“Having her away from the crowd, I pulled her into the bathroom with me and pushed the cougar out. That led to a confrontation.” I search her eyes for a clue to what she’s thinking. I’ve never wanted someone to believe me so badly. I should have known Braelyn would use her knowledge as ammunition to throw in her face. That girl is a conniving bitch, and I’m not sure how Paisley has kept her in her life for this long.
“Paisley . . .” She’s killing me by remaining quiet. I have no idea if she believes me or not. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“What did you and Brae fight about?”
“We’ll circle back to that. I want to talk about the thing with the woman in the bathroom.” Paisley lets go of my hand. I don’t take that as a positive sign. Obviously.
“It doesn’t technically matter. We’ve been thrown together, and yeah, we’ve slept together a few times, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have sex with other people. I do believe what happened tonight in the bathroom was a misunderstanding, but it shouldn’t matter to me if you did or didn’t.”
“Does it matter? It seems like the idea of me fucking someone else matters to you.”
Fuck. When the fuck did this happen? Slowly but all at once. That’s when. I’m in the middle of a shit storm with someone trying to take us down, yet I’m worried about this girl in my arms. We’re talking about exclusivity when it should be the least of our troubles.
I’d have snapped if she so much as looked at another guy tonight. I’d have put my hands around the guy’s neck and squeezed until his face was blue and his breathing stopped. It might be irrational, but it’s true. The truth is really the only thing a guy like me can offer Paisley. I may not be romantic, upstanding, or have a clue what I’m doing, but I can give her truth.
She dodges answering my question by throwing a question of her own at me.
“What’re we doing? I mean us. What is this?”
Truth. That’s what I can give her.
“I don’t have all the answers, Paisley. What I do know is I wouldn’t have fucked someone in that bathroom tonight or anywhere. I don’t want to fuck anybody else, and God help the fucker if you fuck somebody else. I don’t know what this is, because I’ve never done this before. You’re not some girl warming my bed. I want you here, and I want to see where this goes and what it means for us. Is that okay with you?”
Her hand trails the skin of my arm in distracting circles.
“So, we’re saying we’re not going to sleep with other people?” Paisley seems scared of her own question or maybe she’s scared of my answer. I wish she knew she has nothing to worry about. Just the thought of Paisley riding my dick is better than any random in a public bathroom.
“Correct.”
I reach down and run my hand between her legs.
“This pussy is mine. I don’t want any other.”
It’s easier being the Neanderthal talking about owning her pussy. Anything else is shit I haven’t worked through yet. Still, she seems pleased by my answer as she tightens her legs around my hand. Undeterred by her tight grip, I move my hand to travel under the waist band of her night shorts. As I do, Paisley jumps.
“Wait! I want to talk about what else happened in the bathroom with Braelyn.” She moves her hand to mine, tugging to stop where this was headed, and I groan. I’d much rather be touching her than talking about that bitch.
“Playing spy wasn’t giving me any answers. Braelyn mingled around the room, exchanging niceties with everyone. She seemed to be avoiding me and didn’t glance my way once. So, when she was there outside the bathroom, I took it as an opportunity.”
Paisley listens with rapt attention.
“I asked her why she was being a raging bitch to you. I also asked what she was doing there. She didn’t answer anything. The girl has a short fuse. She hit me in the chest a few times, called me a bastard, and told me to stay away from you, among some other colorful things. I don’t understand that girl. She’s blowing up and kicking you out one minute, telling me I’m no good for you the next, and then slapping you across the face before the night is over. She might be certifiable.”
“She said she was there working. I guess like a paid date? Did you see her with anyone?”
“No, she was mingling with everyone at the party, but she never stayed with one group for too long, and there was no man by her side as she went from group to group.”
Paisley looks like she’s deep in thought, but then she suddenly sits up to straddle my legs. She lowers herself onto my lap and wraps her arms around my neck. If she wants to keep this conversation going, then her new seating arrangement is not the way to do that. My hands slide to her bare legs and her skin breaks out in goose bumps. My touch affects her as much as she affects me, and I like that.
“Maybe I had it wrong. Maybe she’s not using drugs—maybe she’s selling them. It would make sense. She said she was there working, but she wasn’t with a date, and you said she was making her way through the guests. Maybe she’s dealing drugs and has some wealthy clientele.”
“It’s possible. Before all this crap with UT happened, I probably would have heard about it through people talking, but I’ve been a little out of the loop since all our merchandise was ruined. I could probably ask around and find out for you.”
Paisley shifts and bounces up and down a little in her excitement about a possible new lead in this department. However, the action is the last straw with being able to focus on this conversation. With a one-track mind, my hands go to her hips so I can guide them to repeat the motion.
“I think this conversation is over for tonight.”
Paisley continues the movement without the aid of my hands. So, I let go and work to quickly remove her shirt. Once it’s gone, I learn she’s not wearing a bra, and I’m rewarded with the bare sight of her tits. They bounce with her movement. Sitting up with her in my lap puts me right at eye level with her pink, round nipples. Unable to resist, I take one into my mouth. I suck hard, bare my teeth a little, and then let go to lick over the same spot. I repeat the same actions to the other nipple as Paisley grinds down on my lap. I’m sure, even through my pants, she can fee
l she’s got me hard.
In her upward motion I reach to pull her shorts down and when she comes back down I lean her back slightly to remove them the rest of the way. She’s not wearing underwear either. Her pussy I’ve claimed as mine tonight is bared for me. I pull her back upright toward me, and she sits on my lap completely naked. It’s the best view I’ve ever seen.
My fingers go straight to her pussy, and I find she’s already wet. With a little more attention, she’ll be leaving her mark on the tux pants I still wear. My fingers slide between her lips, and her hands go back to rest on my shoulders, giving her something to hold on to as she drops onto my fingers. It’s her not-so-subtle way of telling me that she needs more, and I don’t hesitate to give it to her.
I slide my fingers through her wetness a few more times, and then make entry into her warm pussy. I leave them unmoving inside her. It isn’t long before she takes matters into her own hands, slamming down against me to fuck herself with my fingers. As she does, I remove them and feel her muscles clench in an effort to keep me there.
As I take my hand away from her, Paisley pouts, and I love it. I get off on her need for me. I crave that she enjoys my touch so much. With her wetness coating my fingers, I reach up and trace her lips, wanting her to taste herself. She responds by parting her lips, and I dart my fingers inside her mouth. She sucks them deeper, and it’s reminiscent of the way she sucked me off this morning. Her eyes close, and I capture this image as a keepsake to remember.
She moans as I remove my fingers from her mouth and bring them back to her pussy. Paisley reaches for my dress shirt and undoes the buttons before sliding it off my arms. She then moves on to unbutton my belt, and in an effort to speed the removal of my clothes along, I lift her and then remove my pants, taking my boxer briefs with them. She sits back down, and my cock is heavy between us as my fingers work her pussy.
She takes my dick in her hand and strokes with a pace that matches my momentum. Paisley moans as I add another finger into her pleasure. She’s so tight with only my fingers inside her that it’s no wonder it’s so good when it’s my cock pushing in and out of her heat. Eager for more, I remove my fingers from her pussy and take my dick in my own hands. I rub the remnants of her wetness against the head of my cock. Paisley lifts and hovers at the tip, and I stroke myself as she slowly slides down, filling herself with me. Once she’s fully seated, she takes a minute to adjust, keeping still while she leans forward to kiss me.
I grab her face and kiss her back trying to convey all the things I couldn’t say earlier. I care about her. She means something to me. I want all of her to be mine and not just her glorious pussy.
Our kiss grows deeper while Paisley moves up and down, rubbing herself against me with wild abandon. She thrusts down hard enough to bruise herself and digs her nails into my shoulders when she can’t take me any farther. Her arousal drips between us. I break the kiss and lean back so I can watch her. The whole visual is better than anything I’ve ever seen. My fingers move to her clit, and she all but purrs at the contact. The way she moves and her tits bouncing in my face has me quickly climbing the hill.
Paisley throws her head back at my touch and stumbles in her pace a little. She quickly recovers and moves even faster, taking me deeper, and fucking me harder.
“You feel so good, baby. You’re so wet and so fucking tight. Fuck, this is so good.”
Paisley shudders, and I move my hands to her hips to help her keep the pace while she comes apart. I yank on her long hair, arching her back, and she screams my name.
“Burke!” The cries of pleasure coming from her, my name on her lips, and the feel of her contracting around my dick starts my own orgasm. Her pussy grips me so tight it makes me dizzy. I buck and push myself deeper into her as I feel myself twitch before I come inside her. I bite the skin on her shoulder while I lose my mind from coming apart.
Paisley falls forward and burrows her face into my neck. My dick pulses from the movement of her heavy breathing. She’s panting against me, and I rub her back just to feel her skin. We’re barely out of the fog before she states the obvious.
“We had sex without a condom.” Paisley talks with her face still hidden in the curve of my shoulder, so her words are muffled, but I understand them. It dawned on me the second I came inside her.
“I know. I’m sorry. I got caught up in the rush. I’m clean. I’ll get you results if you want.”
“It’s okay. I’m clean too and on birth control. I liked it. I’ve never had sex without one before.” While I like that she’s never done that with anyone else, I also don’t want to think of her history. The irrational can’t be explained.
“I never have either. If we’re both clean and we’re not sleeping with other people and you’re on birth control . . . can we do it again?”
Paisley lifts her hips and rises off me as I give her my best attempt at an innocent grin. Being inside Paisley without a condom is the best thing I’ve ever felt. Now that I’ve felt her, I don’t ever want to go back to having something between us.
“Yeah, I think that can be arranged.”
She kisses my mouth briefly before she lies down beside me. I’m sure she’s exhausted. That’s round three for us today, and she worked on her feet all night. I lift the blankets and cover us both up. I’d much rather sleep in my bed tonight, but I’m not carrying her naked through the house and risking Kai getting another look at my girl. Also, I’m betting she’s too tired to dress and switch rooms. So here I stay because there is no way I’m sleeping without her tonight. As she closes her eyes, I gently kiss the swollen and bruised part of her face before I pull her against my body and close my eyes for the night as well.
Paisley
Inside the haunting, suffocating room once more, the smell of fire permeates the air, and smoke fills my lungs. While there are no flames around me, I know they are close. There are no sounds except the crackling of embers and destruction of the foundation of whatever building this room is a part of. My breathing is shallow, and the darkness is trying to take hold of my consciousness. I try to fight it, but as breathing gets harder and harder, it’s useless. My body feels weightless before I lose all sense of my surroundings.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
A slow, steady rhythm tries to pull me from the darkness. Scratchiness against my skin is the first thing I register after the beeping. My eyes are heavy, and the mobility of my limbs is impossible. A voice breaks through the fog inside my head. The voice of a boy who sounds frantic. His young developing voice breaks more often than not as he speaks.
“I’m not supposed to be here, but I can’t leave her all alone. My mother will be very angry if she knows I’m here.” I’m desperate to open my eyes and see the face behind the voice. “Is she okay?”
A second voice answers, and this one is masculine and much deeper than the first. “I can’t discuss anything about her condition with you, I’m sorry. There is a lot to work out with what’s going on here, and I’d be in big trouble for telling you anything. I’m only allowed to discuss her health with her family. Anything else is against the rules.” The man sounds sad about the situation. My mouth tastes awful, and my lips are stuck together. I try to push open my eyes to see who’s talking, but they won’t budge.
“But she doesn’t have any family . . .” The boy sounds sad and defeated. Despite not being able to see him, his voice is familiar. I can’t place it.
“What do you know about her? What’s her name? How old is she? Why doesn’t she have family? I can’t find any records of who this girl is.” The man sounds a bit more hopeful at the prospect of getting answers.
“Her name is Paisley, and she’s four years old.” The boy sounds more than hesitant about his response. His voice is almost a whisper.
With all the strength I can muster, I finally open my eyes. I look around to see more white walls, but this time, it’s a hospital room. The beeping noise is coming from a machine I’m hooked up to, and the scratchiness on my ski
n is from the bed sheets. Yet, I’m alone. The boy and the man are nowhere to be seen. The boy said it was me they were talking about, but I don’t understand, because looking down at my body covered in a hospital gown, I’m much older than four years old. I look like I always do.
Before I can hear anything else, the machine that is beeping bursts into bright yellows and oranges. The curtains catch fire and the flames quickly spread. I scream for help, but the people from earlier seem to be gone. I try to move from the bed, but my body isn’t working. The fire keeps spreading, the heat from the flames warming me. The smell once again constricts my lungs. I try to scream for help but nothing comes out. The bed shakes, and I can’t figure out what’s moving it.
The soft light of early morning greets me as my eyes burst open, and I leave wherever it was my nightmare took me. Hands grip my shoulders as my body is gently being shaken. I’d guess that was the reason behind the shaking bed in the dream. What surprises me is the hands clutching my shoulders belong to Kai. I search the bed next to me and find Burke is no longer there. As all of this registers, I look down to take stock of my clothing situation. I’m still naked from falling asleep with Burke last night, but luckily the sheet covers me, protecting me from giving Kai another eyeful. Kai loosens his hold on me, and steps away from my bed.
“Are you okay?”
His voice shows concern, and I hate that these nightmares keep giving away my crazy.
“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry.”
“All right, well, I’m going to leave the room before Burke ever finds out I was in here while you wearing nothing but a bed sheet. Get dressed and come downstairs, and I’ll make some coffee.”
I nod in response, and Kai quickly retreats from the room. Blowing out a hard breath, I think back over what happened in my dream. Two dreams about a fire . . . that can’t be a coincidence, can it? Was I in a fire before I was put into foster care? Seeing how young I was, I don’t know how I’d ever figure out a way to really know for sure. I have almost no memories from back then. I don’t remember my parents, the house I lived in, or anything from that time. But I’m more certain than ever these nightmares are more than simply my overactive imagination.