He nods. “Truck. I’ll follow.”
Maddox jerks his chin and then looks down at me. “Tyke is comin’, Pip. His first ride in years. He might just need you to give him a pep talk.”
My heart pounds. He doesn’t want anything from me, but I don’t say that to Maddox. I focus instead on the news he just told me. Tyke is going with them. Riding for the first time. That makes my chest so heavy it feels as if he’s just dropped a brick on it.
“Is he ready, Maddox?”
“Riding isn’t stressful now he’s gotten some strength in his legs. Once he’s going, he won’t have any strain on them. It’s important to him, Pip.”
I nod, but there’s a hard lump forming in my throat. What if he has another accident? What if he does serious damage? I separate from Raide and Maddox and say my goodbyes to the girls. I need space; I need to think. I rush out to my car, breathing in the fresh air as much as possible until I reach it.
I jump in and drive home silently, pondering everything that’s happened. A part of me wants to scream that Tyke is refusing to speak to me, but that wouldn’t fix anything. I honestly don’t know how to deal with Tyke anymore. He’s upset me and I’m angry with him, an irrational anger that is building and building the closer I get to my house.
My phone rings just as I arrive home, and I glance down to see Santana’s number on the screen. I pull into my drive and answer it. “Hello?”
“Hey Pip, you left.”
“Yeah, sorry. I’m tired.”
“There’s more to it,” she whispers. “It’s Tyke, isn’t it?”
With that, I just lose it. I can’t hold it back anymore.
“Yes,” I sob quietly. “He won’t even talk to me, Tana. I don’t know what I did wrong. He wants to be my friend, but then he kisses me and gets angry about it. He’s breaking me. I can’t just be his friend anymore. I want more. I need more.”
“Come around here, honey, let’s talk it out.”
“It’s fine,” I say quietly. “I’m just going to go to bed.”
“Honey,” she says. “I’m worried.”
I put on my best fake voice. “I’ll be fine, honestly. Night, Tana. Love you.”
I hang up before she can answer.
I don’t know what to do with my heart right now. It’s a mess, just like its owner.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
NOW – Pippa
I’m tucked up on my couch, wondering if I should send a message to Tyke when the doorbell rings. I look over to it, wondering if it’s Santana coming to see me. I get up and walk over, flinging it open. Tyke stands in the entrance, looking scary and beautiful all in one. His eyes are stern and his jaw is tight.
“You got a minute?” he asks gruffly.
“Look, Tyke,” I begin, but he shoves past me, stepping inside.
Oh boy, he’s angry.
I close the door and turn to him. He’s sitting on the couch, glaring at the television. I go over to him, stopping in front of his legs and staring down at him. “Why are you here?”
“Not goin’ on a trip until we talk,” he says, finally looking up at me.
“Talk about what, Tyke? You ignored me and now you want me to listen? That’s unfair.”
“Look, Pip—”
“No,” I say, so loudly not only am I shocked, but Tyke is too.
“Pippa,” he rasps.
“Don’t,” I whisper. “I don’t deserve this. You’re my friend, Tyke. I trust you. You’re one of the only people I have learned to care about since I’ve been home, but you don’t get to be hot and cold with me. We’ve been friends long enough now. You either want it, or you don’t.”
“Pippa,” he says, his voice thick and pained. “If it was that fuckin’ easy . . .”
“Please, leave,” I say turning away.
“Pip . . .”
“Leave!”
I shove his chest and his eyes flash with pain. I shove again and he takes hold of my hands. We get into another struggling match, and then suddenly, without warning, he tugs me forward. My hands land on his chest and my lips crash down on his. Then he kisses me.
This kiss is different—it’s deep, and it’s needy. I whimper against his mouth and my small, pathetic fight leaves my body as I sink into him. His arm goes around my waist and he hauls me closer, kissing me so deeply our tongues dance together. He tastes amazing—like beer and Tyke, and all the wonderful things a man should taste like. Something between my legs grows harder and harder, and a pleasure I’ve never experienced before bursts through my core.
A gasp leaves my throat, as the hardness beneath Tyke’s jeans presses into a soft, sensitive spot between my legs. Tyke’s arm tightens around me and I can feel his muscles flexing against my back as he strangely starts to rock me backwards and forward, rubbing my soft spot against his hard, scratchy jeans.
My eyes widen when a bolt of pleasure so intense my back bows, floods my body. “Tyke,” I gasp, unsure.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “So fuckin’ sweet. Go with it, baby. Ride with me.”
He keeps his hands on me, keeps rotating my body over his hard length, and a pleasure I could have never imagined swells deep below. It starts as little pulses of ecstasy, and eventually gets to the point where my body is tight, my mouth is open and my eyes roll back. Tyke is stiff beneath me, and his grunts are becoming more frequent.
Maddox jerks his chin and then looks down at me. “Tyke is comin’, Pip. His first ride in years. He might just need you to give him a pep talk.”
My heart pounds. He doesn’t want anything from me, but I don’t say that to Maddox. I focus instead on the news he just told me. Tyke is going with them. Riding for the first time. That makes my chest so heavy it feels as if he’s just dropped a brick on it.
“Is he ready, Maddox?”
“Riding isn’t stressful now he’s gotten some strength in his legs. Once he’s going, he won’t have any strain on them. It’s important to him, Pip.”
I nod, but there’s a hard lump forming in my throat. What if he has another accident? What if he does serious damage? I separate from Raide and Maddox and say my goodbyes to the girls. I need space; I need to think. I rush out to my car, breathing in the fresh air as much as possible until I reach it.
I jump in and drive home silently, pondering everything that’s happened. A part of me wants to scream that Tyke is refusing to speak to me, but that wouldn’t fix anything. I honestly don’t know how to deal with Tyke anymore. He’s upset me and I’m angry with him, an irrational anger that is building and building the closer I get to my house.
My phone rings just as I arrive home, and I glance down to see Santana’s number on the screen. I pull into my drive and answer it. “Hello?”
“Hey Pip, you left.”
“Yeah, sorry. I’m tired.”
“There’s more to it,” she whispers. “It’s Tyke, isn’t it?”
With that, I just lose it. I can’t hold it back anymore.
“Yes,” I sob quietly. “He won’t even talk to me, Tana. I don’t know what I did wrong. He wants to be my friend, but then he kisses me and gets angry about it. He’s breaking me. I can’t just be his friend anymore. I want more. I need more.”
“Come around here, honey, let’s talk it out.”
“It’s fine,” I say quietly. “I’m just going to go to bed.”
“Honey,” she says. “I’m worried.”
I put on my best fake voice. “I’ll be fine, honestly. Night, Tana. Love you.”
I hang up before she can answer.
I don’t know what to do with my heart right now. It’s a mess, just like its owner.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
NOW – Pippa
I’m tucked up on my couch, wondering if I should send a message to Tyke when the doorbell rings. I look over to it, wondering if it’s Santana coming to see me. I get up and walk over, flinging it open. Tyke stands in the entrance, looking scary and beautiful all in one. His eyes are stern and his jaw is tight.
“You got a minute?” he asks gruffly.
“Look, Tyke,” I begin, but he shoves past me, stepping inside.
Oh boy, he’s angry.
I close the door and turn to him. He’s sitting on the couch, glaring at the television. I go over to him, stopping in front of his legs and staring down at him. “Why are you here?”
“Not goin’ on a trip until we talk,” he says, finally looking up at me.
“Talk about what, Tyke? You ignored me and now you want me to listen? That’s unfair.”
“Look, Pip—”
“No,” I say, so loudly not only am I shocked, but Tyke is too.
“Pippa,” he rasps.
“Don’t,” I whisper. “I don’t deserve this. You’re my friend, Tyke. I trust you. You’re one of the only people I have learned to care about since I’ve been home, but you don’t get to be hot and cold with me. We’ve been friends long enough now. You either want it, or you don’t.”
“Pippa,” he says, his voice thick and pained. “If it was that fuckin’ easy . . .”
“Please, leave,” I say turning away.
“Pip . . .”
“Leave!”
I shove his chest and his eyes flash with pain. I shove again and he takes hold of my hands. We get into another struggling match, and then suddenly, without warning, he tugs me forward. My hands land on his chest and my lips crash down on his. Then he kisses me.
This kiss is different—it’s deep, and it’s needy. I whimper against his mouth and my small, pathetic fight leaves my body as I sink into him. His arm goes around my waist and he hauls me closer, kissing me so deeply our tongues dance together. He tastes amazing—like beer and Tyke, and all the wonderful things a man should taste like. Something between my legs grows harder and harder, and a pleasure I’ve never experienced before bursts through my core.
A gasp leaves my throat, as the hardness beneath Tyke’s jeans presses into a soft, sensitive spot between my legs. Tyke’s arm tightens around me and I can feel his muscles flexing against my back as he strangely starts to rock me backwards and forward, rubbing my soft spot against his hard, scratchy jeans.
My eyes widen when a bolt of pleasure so intense my back bows, floods my body. “Tyke,” I gasp, unsure.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “So fuckin’ sweet. Go with it, baby. Ride with me.”
He keeps his hands on me, keeps rotating my body over his hard length, and a pleasure I could have never imagined swells deep below. It starts as little pulses of ecstasy, and eventually gets to the point where my body is tight, my mouth is open and my eyes roll back. Tyke is stiff beneath me, and his grunts are becoming more frequent.
