Page 20 of Call on Me


  He wanted to play.

  And she was ready for the game.

  NINETEEN

  The drive to The Ranch was too fucking long on a good day. On a day with a pantyless Oakley in his car, it was goddamned torture. And of course, a misty fog had rolled in, slowing the drive even more. The subtle scent of Oakley’s arousal taunted Pike in the enclosed space, making his cock throb in protest. If it hadn’t been Flo’s place, he would’ve followed Oakley into the bathroom, propped her on the sink, and fucked her senseless. But he had too much respect for Flo to do that there.

  Pike curled his fingers around the steering wheel and tried to concentrate on the dark road in front of him, but Oakley’s presence was impossible to ignore. After she’d returned from the restroom—two minutes late, he’d noted—she’d had a high flush on her cheeks and a drunk-on-lust look in her eyes. She hadn’t said a word about what she had or hadn’t done, but he could tell she’d followed his directive. He’d had to adjust his napkin on his lap because he’d gone hard in an instant.

  And now, in his periphery, he could see that she kept shifting in her seat and that her nipples were peaked against her blouse. He wanted to pull over to the side of the road and take them in his mouth until she was so desperate she begged for him to be inside her. But they were still a ways from The Ranch and he was trying to be patient.

  “You were late coming back from the bathroom,” he said, breaking the silence. “Got carried away in there?”

  She turned her head and gave him a wouldn’t-you-like-to-know smile.

  “Don’t tease me, mama. Tell me. In vivid detail preferably.”

  She pressed her lips together, humor in her eyes, and looked toward the road. “You sound like one of my callers.”

  “You’re dodging my question.”

  She nodded. “A fair assessment.”

  “How come?”

  She glanced down, a self-deprecating smile tugging at her lips. “It’s silly, right? I talk sex for a living but when it comes to talking to you about it, I lock up like some awkward virgin. I had to fight it the first few times we talked on the phone. Now, in person, it’s coming back.”

  He appreciated the honesty. “I get it. Everything’s easier when it’s a role. You talk sex as Sasha. But it’s just you here tonight. Same for me. It’s easier for me when I’m the drummer from Dark-fall. But the only person you’ve got in this car with you is James Pike Ryland. So don’t feel awkward. We’re on even ground.”

  She looked over at him. “Your name is James?”

  “It was my father’s name. But my dad walked out when I was five and I started going by Pike since my mom said she couldn’t stand to hear his name in the house. I legally changed it when I joined the band to separate myself from my history, but for some reason, James still feels like my real name. It’s what my brother called me.”

  She considered him. “So if I was in here with Pike Ryland, rock star, how would it be different?”

  He laughed. “We are not going to discuss that. You would hate him.”

  She turned her body toward him, devious smile beaming. “Oh, no. We have to go there now. I think I got a glimpse of him the first time we met.”

  He rubbed the back of his head. How had he gotten trapped in this corner? “Fuck, all right. I do what’s easy. I tell women what they want to hear. Most girls just want to know how hot they are, how great they look in whatever they’re wearing. It’s much more about them and the conquest of landing the band member than it is about me. I figured that out early on. Then it usually ends up with talk of who I know, where I’ve been, all that shit that makes me sound like a big deal.”

  Oakley bit her lip like she was trying hard not to laugh.

  “What?” he asked, grinning. “That shit totally works.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt. I’m sure ten minutes of that and there’s no more talking because the girl’s head is bobbing in your lap. Frankly, I don’t know why you even bother talking. I mean, looking at you is enough. You probably could just unbutton your fly and point.”

  His mouth kicked up at the corner. “Yeah? Would that have worked on you?”

  “That would’ve gotten you a knee to the balls. And a thank-you for showing me where to aim.”

  He laughed.

  She turned, peering out at the passing mileage signs. “Looking at you is no hardship. You know that. But talking to James Pike Ryland is what got me here. The other guy would’ve never had a chance.”

  The gently spoken admission thumped him right in the chest. He focused on the road, trying not to show on his face how the words had affected him. “Thank you, Oakley.”

  A few quiet seconds passed and then he heard the click of her seat belt. She slid across the bench seat and placed her hand on his thigh, the touch like a brand through the material. He didn’t move, didn’t look her way.

  She dragged her hand higher and grazed his half-hard erection, tentative yet purposeful at the same time. “But if James wants to unzip and point, I may not oppose the suggestion.”

  He inhaled a slow breath at her touch and her offer, not to mention the sound of his given name on her lips. But he didn’t turn to her or unzip his pants. As much as he wanted to know what her mouth would feel like around him—God, did he want to know—he recognized a bid for control when he saw it. He’d learned from Foster that a scared submissive’s best tactic at getting a dom off track was playing to his baser needs—offering blow jobs being the top of the list. The conversation had gotten too personal, and she was retreating into the role she knew better. He wouldn’t allow it. “Tell me what happened at the restaurant.”

  Her hand stilled on his thigh.

  “I know you’re scared to say the words, but you have to know there’s no judgment here. You don’t have to try to impress me with how you say it or make it like one of your calls. I just want you to tell me in your own words.”

  She listened, her shoulder rising and falling against his with her deep inhale. “Okay. I’ll try.”

  “Go on, baby. I’m listening.”

  “I was late coming back to the table because before I got to the restroom, I ran into Emilio in the hallway and we talked for a minute.”

  That wasn’t what Pike had expected. “Oh? About what?”

  “He told me that you bought the restaurant for Flora after his dad died. That all she owned before was a food truck and they would’ve never made it on that income. He said you saved them.”

  Pike’s jaw clenched. Emilio knew better than to share all that. Pike’s role in the restaurant was supposed to be completely silent. The kid had probably been trying to help Pike look good to Oakley. “Flora saved them. Her cooking and business sense has made that place a success. I just got her the building to do it in. It was the least I could do after all she did for me.”

  Oakley squeezed his thigh. “It was still a pretty amazing thing to do.”

  “You’re still avoiding telling me what you did, Ms. Easton,” he said, peeking over at her. “Don’t think I’m above pulling over to a secluded spot and turning you over my knee.”

  Her eyes blinked with surprise at that. Surprise and interest.

  He smiled inwardly.

  “Fine.” She reached over and dug in her purse. She took his hand and unfurled his palm and placed the silky fabric in it. “First, I went into the restroom and pulled off these.”

  Pike glanced down at the flimsy red swath of cloth in his hand and closed his fist around the panties. Fuck. They were still damp. “You were wet before you started.”

  “I’ve been like that since minute one tonight,” she said, easing the material from his grip so that he could put both hands back on the wheel. “Even without any smooth lines or name-dropping, you seem to have that effect on me. Or maybe I’m just really hard up.”

  He sniffed. “Thanks. You’re great for a guy’s ego.”

  “I doubt yours needs help.” Her fingers played along the waistband of his jeans. “By the time I was alone in
the bathroom, I was distracted by the conversation with Emilio. So I had to get my head back into the right space.”

  He put his hand over hers, stopping her movements.

  She licked her lips. “Can I touch you, Pike? Please.”

  At that, he relented. She’d asked and she knew it wasn’t going to get her out of telling the story. He released her hand. “Yes, as long as you keep talking.”

  “Deal.” She unhooked the button on his jeans.

  He glanced down. Painted fingernails against black jeans, her delicate fingers tugging down his zipper. Fuck, yes.

  “So I leaned back against the wall and imagined you were there with me, that you were touching me and trying to keep me quiet so that no one would hear us outside the door.” Her fingertips teased the trail of hair below his belly button.

  Pike rubbed his thumbs along the steering wheel, trying to keep calm and focused on the road. “You like the idea of that? That we could be discovered?”

  She was quiet for a moment, her fingers idly stroking his abdomen, the scritch-scritch of her nails against the coarse hair erotic in and of itself. “In the right situation, I think it could be exciting.”

  He filed that knowledge away. “If I had been there, I would’ve turned you around, pushed up your skirt, and pressed you against the door with one hand over your mouth to keep you quiet and one between your legs to make you come.”

  She made a soft, breathy sound and he peered over at her. His eyes flicked down her body over the curves and to the soft material covering her thighs. There’d be nothing beneath that thin layer—just sweet flesh and heat. He reached out and traced the hem of the fabric. “Lift your skirt for me, Oakley.”

  He could feel her breath catch, her body going still against his side.

  He gazed out at the highway, keeping his expression placid. “I want to see you. You’re getting your own view. It’s only fair I get one, too. Lift up your skirt and spread your knees. It will help me imagine your story better.”

  Her anxiety was a palpable thing. She was used to having the control. That’s what she’d been taking by coming over and touching him. But he needed to remind her of who was in charge tonight. He waited to see if she would retreat now that he’d pressed his bet, but instead, after a few long moments, Oakley lowered her hands to the edge of her skirt and dragged it up her thighs.

  It took everything Pike had not to immediately take in the sight, but he kept his eyes forward as if he were completely indifferent. “Now, go on with the story and feel free to touch whatever you’d like.”

  Oakley paused for a beat, but then after another deep breath, she folded back his fly to free his erection and wrapped the silky fabric of her panties around his cock. The smooth, rich material moved over him like liquid heaven, and he had to fight not to jerk his hips forward. He inhaled a ragged breath through his nose, finding some shred of inner calm.

  Only then did Pike give himself permission to look at what Oakley had revealed to him. Goddamn. Her knees weren’t parted wide but his angle gave him a view that could kill a man. The creamy, smooth skin of her thighs, the soft black fabric of her skirt bunched up, and the dark curls covering her pussy beckoned him. Not to mention those long, elegant fingers wrapped around his satin-covered cock.

  He had to clench his teeth together not to groan. But his dick didn’t bother hiding its appreciation. His erection swelled thick in her grip, and he had to steel his way through the flood of desire so he wouldn’t wreck the damn vehicle. He cleared his throat. “So what happened next?”

  Oakley polished the head of his cock with the soft material, a teasing, torturous stroke. “I imagined you touching me and then I moved my hand between my legs. I was already wet by then and knew I only had a few minutes, so I rubbed my clit. I thought about what we did at the studio, about how you felt inside me, and I fingered myself.”

  Pike lowered his hand to her thigh, letting it settle against that smooth skin.

  “The more turned on I got, the bolder I felt. The nerves went away. So I opened my eyes and watched my reflection in the mirror.”

  “Fuck, baby. You’re killing me.” That was a picture. Oakley watching herself as she got off. Legs spread. Fingers buried in that hot little cleft. That would go in the fantasy arsenal next time he needed to jerk off. His fingers dug into her thigh. “Did you come?”

  “No, I figured you didn’t want me to take it that far. I saved that for you. But I was soaked and aching by the time I got back to the table.”

  He groaned, unable to hide his reactions anymore. “You did well, mama. Now I’m the one tortured.”

  She moved the panties downward, cupping his balls with them, then lowered her head and licked the head of his cock with a long, slow glide. The tires hit the rumble strip on the side of the road, sending loud vibrations through the truck, and he jerked the wheel back to center them on the road. She lifted off of him with a soft popping sound and gave him a siren smile.

  Oh yeah, that girl had some sadist in her, too, because her pleasure in his discomfort was wickedly obvious. He smirked, knowing two could play at that game. He slid his hand to the apex of her thighs and dragged his fingers over her pussy, slick arousal greeting his fingers. Hell, yes. “You’re soaked, baby. You like seeing what you do to me.”

  She closed her eyes briefly and rolled her lips together as he dipped two fingers inside her and stroked, her wet heat enveloping him. She took a deep breath and answered him. “Now you know what the rest of dinner felt like for me. I barely tasted Flora’s meal. All I could think about was climbing across the table and straddling you in your chair.”

  He grinned, loving that as soon as she got really turned on, her shyness melted away. He had a suspicion that “Sasha” wasn’t so much a persona as a secret, bold part of Oakley that she kept on a tight leash. “And what are you thinking about now?”

  Her fingers curled around his cock like it was taking everything she had not to climb on top of him. “That straddling you while you’re driving would be a road hazard.”

  He chuckled. “I could pull to the side of the road, but anyone passing by could see.”

  She didn’t say anything to that, but he could feel her clench tight around his fingers. He glanced over at her, curious. Her eyes were still closed but something about her expression confirmed his suspicion.

  “You wouldn’t mind that, would you? That idea of being heard or seen does it for you.” He drew his fingertips over her clit, knowing the touch was too light to get her off but had to be driving her crazy. Just like hers was doing to him.

  She wet her lips and her head tilted back, exposing the length of her neck. “You’re making it hard to put thoughts together right now.”

  He smiled. “Try harder, babe. Because there’s no way I’m going to stop touching you and I expect an answer.”

  She lifted her lids and stared straight ahead at the road, like she was trying to focus on something to block out the way her body was reacting to him. “I don’t know if I’d have the guts to do that kind of thing. But everything about my sex life from day one of it has been about hiding and being secretive. Even now. So there’s something about the idea of just being out there that has its appeal. It’s one reason why being on the phone with you was so hot. You were an observer to a private thing.”

  He shifted in his seat, absorbing that. So the lovely Oakley had an unexplored exhibitionist streak. He felt like he’d hit the lottery, because God knows he didn’t have a problem doing whatever he wanted in front of others. It was one reason he craved the stage so much and why he’d liked the threesomes with Foster. Being watched could be a huge turn-on.

  But Oakley had said she wasn’t sure she’d actually be able to do it. Her pussy was clenching and wet around him just from the conversation, so at the very least she was attracted to the idea, in theory. But he was ready to find out how far she was really willing to go. He smiled as he pulled off the main road to the narrow country road that would lead to The Ranch. L
uckily, he knew the perfect place to test out theories.

  He would show the lovely Ms. Easton exactly why she wouldn’t be able to walk away from him after one night.

  Because that was definitely not an option.

  One taste was supposed to satisfy the craving. But Oakley wasn’t cake, she was heroin. And he was fucking hooked.

  TWENTY

  Oakley was so close to coming that if she rocked her hips and ground into Pike’s touch, she’d go off. She’d already lost her ability to multitask, her intention to stroke Pike falling by the wayside as she was swept up in her own pleasure. But right as they pulled onto a different road, he moved his hand from between her thighs. She couldn’t hold back the sound of frustration. She’d been keyed up since dinner, and her entire body felt like a coil ready to snap.

  Pike smiled and casually put the two fingers he’d been using on her in his mouth. Shiny, long fingers disappeared between those sinful lips of his, and she had to groan again.

  “Is your plan to keep me desperate all night?” she asked. “You know it’s not nice to tease a girl who’s been celibate for five years.”

  He smirked and pulled off the road without warning, the truck bumping on uneven ground. “You’re absolutely right.”

  She glanced out the window. The fog hung low, but it wasn’t blocking the fact that they were no longer on true road. Oh, shit. “What are you doing?”

  He concentrated on the terrain in front of them, the natural grasses and shrubbery slapping at the base of the vehicle. A large Texas Ash tree loomed in the distance, its canopy seeming to hover above the fog like a leafy, green spaceship. As they got closer to the tree, Pike angled the truck toward it. Low brush surrounded the area, but Pike managed to find a clearing big enough to drive through. Once they were in the shelter of the Ash, Pike put the truck in park and cut the engine.