Risky Rockstar: A Hero Club Novel, стр. 65
Kade moves off me to retrieve a condom. When he slips it over his cock, he’s a sight to behold. The moon high in the inky night offers the perfect backdrop. The muscles in his forearm bulge under his glorious tattoos, the leather straps decorating his wrists only seem to define them. Is it normal to be this turned on by someone’s forearm? I don’t think so, but I don’t care.
Good, Hayley, think about that. Don’t let the doubts creep in.
Kade kisses me again and pushes slowly inside me, filling me with his length. My back arches off the blanket as I’m enveloped in so many sensations. He never takes his eyes off me as he moves inside me, taking his time as he thrusts in and out.
“You’re so fucking beautiful. I know I say that all the time but…” He dips his head and groans. “You’re so beautiful, and you feel so fucking good.” My body responds to his words, to all the sensations. His words, his touch, the way he looks at me while he thrusts in and out of my body sets me on fire, but it’s not going to be enough. “I can’t wait to come inside you. Fuck, I can’t wait.”
My breathing increases because I know that if I don’t come, Kade won’t come. My brain spins into overdrive, and no matter how badly my body wants it or how good I feel, I won’t come. I tried to fool myself, but I know this is a lost cause.
Kade cups my chin. “Where are you?”
“Nowhere—I’m here. I’m with you.” Except I’m not. I’m locked in my head. Trapped with my insecurities and self-doubt. I want this so much. I need to give this to Kade. I don’t want to be frigid with him. Not him.
I look in his eyes and force a smile to spread across my face. Kade tilts my ass, and the pressure on my sweet spot is perfect, but I know that despite this being something my body wants, I’m too far gone now.
His jaw clenches as he struggles to hold on to his own orgasm. He’s held out so many times—first the hotel room, then at his place. I refuse to do that to him again.
I hate myself for what I’m about to do, but I won’t take this from him. Not again. I clench my stomach muscles and tighten my core, squeezing Kade with my walls. A tear slips down my face as the enormity of my failure slams into me. Our bodies are designed for pleasure, and I can’t even give Kade the gift of making me come.
I tighten my thighs around his waist and moan. I don’t fake that—he feels amazing inside me. Just knowing he wants to be inside me is pleasure enough for me.
I rise up and clutch Kade to me so he doesn’t see the tears. Bite down on his shoulder to stop the sobs from ripping free. He mistakes all this for passion.
“Hayley, fuck, I’m going to come.”
I match his rhythm thrust for thrust as I stifle my tears. He can’t see me crying. He can’t know I faked it. Kade throws his head back as he comes. He’s so gorgeous it steals my breath. The muscles in his neck stand out in stark relief, and his throat vibrates as his moans rip out of him. I’m right there alongside him every step of the way but not in the way he thinks I am.
When his body stops shaking, he opens his eyes and looks at me. “Are you alright?”
God, he knows—he knows I faked it.
“How could I not be?” I rub my hand over the bite mark. “I bit you.” I stare at the mark on his shoulder, hoping to distract him. “Kiss me, please.”
He does and my stomach sinks with guilt. I should be honest with him. Tell him how I feel. Tell him everything.
But I don’t.
Chapter 31
Kade
It’s a good day.
At least it should be a good day, but the weight on my chest won’t let me enjoy it despite the fact that I know I should. Days when Pops is lucid are few and far between. When his eyes are clear and his smile wide. When he isn’t locked away by the isolation dementia ensnares him in. Dementia has to be the worst fucking disease out there. With everything else, you’ve got support and family and you’re not alone. Dementia robs you of that. It turns loved ones into strangers. It instills fear and confusion and traps you in a world where nothing is familiar and everything is fucking terrifying.
But today, Pops knows who I am. It’s a perfect clear day. The wind lends just enough of a breeze to make the heat bearable. We’re in the south gardens; hardly anyone ever comes down here, which is why we enjoy hanging out here. Pops sits on a bench next to the pond while I survey the wood and supplies I had delivered and are now piled on the grass. Elphin Lodge, the assisted-living facility that’s treated Pops as a member of their family for three years now, is known for its top-of-the-line facilities and beautifully landscaped gardens. But Pops wanted to build a bridge over the pond. It’s a throwback to his days as a civil engineer—even if on a minuscule scale—and who was I to deny him one small wish.
“Get the drawing out, boy. No use staring at the wood as if the damn bridge will materialize out of thin air.” Pops takes a swig of the beer I smuggled in. I’ve done it every single visit for the last two years. On the good days, we share them; most days I take them back with me.
I pull the drawing with directions and measurements Pops made on our last good day together. After reviewing it for a few moments, I lay it flat on the grass and get to work.
“Did