Call on Me by Roni Loren
Pike glanced up, noticing her for the first time, and for half a beat, there was a flare of naked, open desire. She sucked in a breath, but as soon as the look was there, it was gone. A good-natured smile replaced the heat. “Looks like Noah’s Ark dropped y’all off.”
Reagan didn’t say anything. Instead, she clutched her iPod to her chest and walked away to sit against the back wall, separate from everyone else.
Pike frowned and stepped away from Bradley to meet Oakley by the door. “Something I said?”
Oakley sighed and set her bag and keys on a chair near the door, then made sure none of the other kids were close enough to hear the conversation. “She probably didn’t even hear you. She had a rough day at school. Storms upset her and sirens set off her sensory issues.”
“Poor baby.” He crossed his arms and peered over at Reagan. “Anything I can do to help?”
“Just leave her be. Sometimes she needs to check out to get herself calm. So if she wants to join us, she can. If she wants to stay over there, let her.”
His eyes met hers. “And you? Anything I can do? You look cold and stressed.”
God, he smelled good. Like summer and spice. She could think of more than a few things he could do to warm her up. But beyond the normal dirty thoughts he inspired, she had this ridiculous urge to hug him, to feel his arms wrap around her, to feel comfort after a shit day. Stupid. She cleared her throat. “The rest of the kids are going to be here soon. Can you get them started so I can run home and get a change of clothes? I won’t be long.”
A panicked look crossed his face. “Wait, you want to leave the kids alone with me?”
“You were doing fine with Bradley.”
“Yeah, but he’s one kid and we were talking drumming. I’m not—I’m not good with kids. I don’t know—”
She smiled and lifted a brow. “So my kid has a storm phobia and you have a child phobia?”
“It’s not—”
She reached out and grabbed his shoulder, giving it a squeeze and trying not to notice how muscular it felt. “You’ll do fine. All kids want is to be treated like people. Don’t talk down to them. Be a good listener. And be confident when you’re in charge so they don’t try to get one over on you.”
“That last part is what I’m worried about.”
“You have no problem with confidence.” She leaned closer. “And I’ve heard you’re pretty good at giving instructions.”
His smile went lazy at that. “I thought we weren’t supposed to talk about such things face to face, Ms. Easton.”
She shrugged, nonchalant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Ryland.”
“Well, if that rule’s not in place right now”—he turned his back to the kids, facing her fully—“then let me say that the other night hasn’t left my mind all week. That every time I think about it I get hard. And that it’s taking every bit of restraint I have not to find the nearest storage closet and peel these clinging, wet clothes off of you.”
Her body surged with heavy, hungry desire, and her breath left her for a second. Hearing it on the phone was one thing. Hearing him say those kinds of things face to face—complete with those chameleon eyes and pirate smile—was like plugging her system into an electrical socket. Everything lit up. Buzzed. Her gaze darted toward the two kids in the room. “Pike.”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
“We can’t talk about this here.”
His eyes darkened—spun gold rimmed by green. “Maybe we’ve done enough talking. Maybe the next conversation shouldn’t be across phone lines. Maybe those instructions should be whispered in your ear while I—”
“Pike—”
But before she could get another word out, a group of kids bustled through the doorway, chatting loudly and breaking the moment. Oakley stepped back, putting more distance between her and Pike.
“I’ll be back in twenty minutes. Get them started on the chorus of the song. If you need help, call for one of the volunteers.”
Pike gave her a quick up-and-down perusal, as if he were saving the picture to his permanent file. “To be continued.”
She shook her head and turned away before she could get herself in trouble. She needed to get some breathing room. Pike was exciting on the phone, sexy and daring. But she could handle him in that venue. There was space, safety. But in person, the man was a full-frontal assault on her senses. Every part of her yearned to touch, to taste, to bury her nose in the crook of his neck and absorb his scent. To lick his tattoos, to bite that muscular curve of his shoulder, to glut herself on him like a starved person at a buffet. She’d always rolled her eyes at the women swooning in those Regency romances she read, but now she understood the definition. The man could knock her on her ass with a look and a few well-chosen words.
She grabbed her bag and slipped out the door, inhaling the cool air of the hallway and trying to quell the flush that had surely crept up her face. She hurried to the door that led to the back parking lot, actively avoiding any of the other staff, and pushed back out into the rain.
The storm had waned from torrential downpour to steady shower, but at this point, she was soaked anyway, so what did it matter? She jogged to her car, sloshing through the puddles, and dug into her purse for her keys. But the outside pocket she normally kept them in was empty.
“Shit.” She plunged her hand into every corner of the pocket then opened up the main zipper to see if she’d dropped them in there.
“Looking for these?”
She glanced up. Pike stood there in the rain, her keys hanging from his finger, raindrops landing on his skin and eyelashes
“You left them on the chair,” he said, slicking his hair back as he took a step closer.
Her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth. The guy was unfairly beautiful. Drenched in rain he looked even better. “You’re getting wet.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up. “Isn’t that my line, Ms. Easton?”
She laughed, feeling ridiculous and a little embarrassed. “We’re not supposed to talk about those things.”
He took another step, his eyes not leaving hers, and she backed up until her backside bumped against her car. He took her hand and unfurled her fingers, his touch like a branding iron on her chilled skin, then placed the keys in her palm. He didn’t move forward. He didn’t cage her in. He simply held her in thrall with his presence, raindrops sliding over his skin and dripping off the ring in his eyebrow, and kept his hand on hers. His thumb traced over her knuckles. “Then let’s not talk.”
Four simple words.
That was all it took. Well, that and how irresistible he looked with rain running down his face and promise in his eyes. Every mooring inside her broke free in that one ill-advised moment. All the good intentions, all the logic, all the sense she thought she possessed drained from her. His name passed her lips, the keys hit the ground, and then her mouth was on his—hands gripping fistfuls of wet T-shirt and toes pushing off the ground.
Even though he’d been the one to throw down the challenge, he stiffened as if surprised. But as soon as her lips closed over his, he snapped into action. His hands moved to her waist and he pressed her fully against the car, taking control of the kiss. His mouth tasting and taking, his fingers biting into her sides like he was half a second from ripping her shirt from her skin.
She moaned into the kiss, and his tongue dipped into her mouth, stroking hers with blatant erotic rhythm—making promises. She could almost hear those promises as if he’d whispered them into her ear. This is how my hips will move against yours. This is how I’ll lick you. This is how slow my cock will grind inside of you. Everything inside her went bright and electric. She yanked him closer, aligning her body with his and rubbing against him like a shameless, desperate thing. She couldn’t help herself. The dam had cracked. It all felt too good. Too hot. Needful in the best way.
Pike’s hand found her hair, and he laced his fingers in the damp tresses, angling h
But he wasn’t letting her out of the kiss. He swallowed her gasp and bit at her bottom lip, which only made her whimper again. All their movements were frantic and jerky, like bulls waiting to go into the ring and thrash everything in sight, thrash each other. He said her name and his other hand slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, grasping at her rain-slicked skin as if he couldn’t get her close enough. She let her fingers trail upward, tracing the muscles beneath his T-shirt and then curling into the hair at the nape of his neck. She gripped hard, ready to let him absorb her completely.
But when he lowered his arms to grab her thighs and bring her legs around him, seating him exactly where she most craved him, some of her brain cells sparked back to life.
They were in the parking lot of her job. Any co-worker or child could walk out the back door. And she was about to dry hump the one guy she’d sworn she’d steer clear of for all the world to see.
She broke away from the kiss, panting. “Wait. Stop.”
Pike blinked, his eyes as lust-drunk and hazy as hers probably were. “What’s wrong?”
She shimmied out of his hold. “We can’t. My job.”
Full sentences wouldn’t come to her, but he got the message. Awareness came back into his eyes, and he jerked back. He glanced toward the door and ran a hand over his face. “Shit. That—it wasn’t supposed to—”
She smoothed her shirt, her hands shaking, and bent down to swipe her keys out of the puddle they’d fallen into. “It’s okay. I—that was my fault. I need to go.”
“Oakley.”
“Get back to the kids. I’ll see you in a few.”
Pike frowned but didn’t make a move to stop her. “Right. Yeah. The kids.”
“Great.” She climbed in her car and didn’t take a breath until he’d headed back inside. When the door shut behind him, she rested her head against the steering wheel and screamed in frustration.
Her lips were tingling, her body pulsing, and her brain blitzed. What the hell was she doing?
Of all the impulsive, stupid, ill-advised things …
And she couldn’t even blame Pike. She’d kissed him!
The move had been hers. She’d been a minute away from finding a way to get it on in the parking lot. She was no better than one of his groupies looking for a quickie backstage.
She stabbed the key into the ignition and turned it. She had twenty minutes to get herself back together.
Twenty minutes.
It would never be enough.
FIFTEEN
Pike had to look twice when Oakley came back into the music room because at first he’d mistaken her for another teenager. She had her hair pulled into a haphazard knot and wore a Bluebonnet Place T-shirt and gym shorts, her long legs bared. Damn. All that skin conjured some really inappropriate thoughts.
He dragged his gaze back up to her face and frowned when he noticed how drawn she looked. Pissed, he’d been expecting. The kiss in the parking lot had freaked her out. Shit, it’d freaked him out—how easily he’d lost control, how quickly it had gotten out of hand. How much he’d wanted to take her over and carry her off. But he hadn’t expected her to look so downtrodden.
He got up from the circle he’d been sitting in with the kids and walked over to her. “Everything all right, mama?”
“Don’t call me that here.”
He lifted a brow. Not here. But maybe somewhere else. Good to know. “You were gone awhile. We’re about to wrap up.”
“Sorry.” She sighed and flicked a stray hair away from her face. “My street is flooded. They’ve blocked the roads.”
“Shit.”
“The cops told me all the houses on the street are fine. But they’re not letting anyone through because there are a few downed power lines close by and they have to secure the area.” She spread her hands out. “Hence the makeshift outfit. Tessa had to lend me clothes.”
“Damn. Did they tell you when you could go back?”
“Probably not tonight. And even if I could, the lack of electricity would freak Reagan out too much.”
“You’ve got somewhere to go?”
“My brother’s. But he’s hosting business associates for dinner tonight and I don’t want to interrupt. He’ll probably be done by nine.”
Pike glanced over at Reagan, who had finally joined the group in the last half hour. He’d been happy to have her back in the circle, but her normal spark definitely wasn’t there. “How’s Reagan going to deal with all that?”
Oakley closed her eyes and rubbed the spot between them. “I can’t tell her about the house. She’s already had a bad day. And if I do, every storm that comes from now on, she’ll think the house is going to flood and lose power. She’s got enough to worry about. I think I’ll just tell her we’re going to have a sleepover at Uncle Devon’s. And take her to dinner or whatever in the meantime.”
“Or you could just come to my place.”
Her attention turned back to him at that. “What?”
He shrugged. “Reagan said she wants to see my vintage album collection. We could grab takeout. It might distract her until it’s time to head to your brother’s.”
“Pike. I—we can’t. I mean, I don’t want to confuse things or give Rae the wrong idea.”
“You mean give me the wrong idea,” he said with a smirk.
“That, too.”
He lifted his palm like he was swearing in at court. “Seriously. It’ll be completely innocent. Just one friend helping out another. It’s not like I’d make a move on you with your daughter there, anyway.”
She lifted a brow. “I doubt you have ever in your life been completely innocent of anything.”
He grinned and pointed to a spot above his head. “Come on, can’t you see the halo?”
“Yes, your horns are holding it up.”
“Now you’re just hurting my feelings,” he said, putting his hand over his heart in mock despair. “Come on. There’s a kickass Greek restaurant down the street from my condo. Gyros for us all. And homemade pita. Reagan can dig through my record collection. We can talk about project stuff.”
“Why?” she asked, a wrinkle appearing between her brows. “I mean, why would you want us there? I’m sure you have your own things to do tonight. It’s Friday.”
Why? Good question. One he didn’t have an answer for. This wasn’t his game. He didn’t bring women back to his place unless it was to get them into his bed—which would definitely not happen in this situation. But he found himself excited about the possibility of having the two of them over anyway.
Bizarre. He rubbed the back of his neck. “We’re friends. Don’t overanalyze it. I don’t have plans. You need a place to kill time. I have one.”
“Mom, why are you wearing that?” Both he and Oakley turned toward the new voice. Reagan stood a few steps from them, staring at her mother’s outfit with a vaguely horrified expression. “Those shorts are short.”
“Yes, they are,” Pike agreed. “So very short.”
Oakley shot him a look and, turning away from Reagan, he mouthed, I love them.
Oakley narrowed her eyes in warning for the briefest of seconds then smiled at her daughter. “Ms. Tessa lent me some clothes since my other ones got wet.”
“Can we go home? I’m tired.”
Oakley sent a wary glance Pike’s way. “Not yet. Mr. Pike thought we might like to go over to his place and see his album collection.”
Reagan perked up like a flower finding sun. “Really?”
“Would you like that?” Pike asked. “I have a whole punk section.”
“Best. Idea. Ever,” Reagan said, expression comically serious.
Pike grinned. At least he had one Easton girl on his side.
Oakley
His lips curled. “That’s what you’re picturing isn’t it? Getting Reagan occupied with something then me sneaking you into a room, pushing you against a wall, sliding my …”
Her hand flew up to cover his mouth. “Stop.”
He maintained his smile behind her fingertips.
“There are two Oakleys,” she said, her voice firm and quiet. “Sometimes you get to say those things to the other one. Not this one. This one is off limits.”
He nodded and she lowered her hand. He peeked over his shoulder to make sure the kids were still occupied. He turned back to her, meeting her eyes. “All joking aside, I would never disrespect you or your daughter that way. My mother didn’t give me that courtesy. Our rental house was small. I saw way more than I should’ve ever seen between her and her boyfriends. I wouldn’t do that to someone else’s kid.”
Oakley’s stern expression softened. “Thank you. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
He shrugged, uncomfortable with the sympathy. “What can you do? Some of us don’t win the parent lottery. I survived.”
Barely. If he hadn’t finally bailed at seventeen after his mother hooked up with yet another guy who liked to take out a bad day by pounding on Pike, he’d be dead or in jail. Pike had thought Red might be different. Unlike the other boyfriends, Red had money, a house, and a good job. The guy owned a successful car dealership, and he’d seemed like he’d be the prince to pull Pike’s family out of their hand-to-mouth existence. But the guy had wanted the picture-perfect family. The younger kids and his mother had been able to fit into that mold. Pike with his Mohawk, piercings, and fuck-you attitude hadn’t fit. And in the end, it turned out his mother had a type. Red was just better at hiding that penchant for violence and justifying it when it flared. And though his mother was sometimes in the line of fire, Pike was Red’s favorite target by far.