Burning Barriers (Barriers Series Book 3) (2 page)

Up. Down. Squeeze tighter. Run thumb over the head in circles. Repeat.

I raise my eyes to his, pleading for him to fuck me like he used to. I need him to eliminate the past seven years I spent away from him. Right here, right now. I don’t even care at this moment that he hasn’t asked about Stone’s attack in the woods or the scar on my neck.

Forcefully, Jake curls his strong fingers over my wrist, pulling my hand away from his erect cock. As he gazes into my eyes, I can tell he senses my yearning to have him. Jake pulls me by the wrist until I’m standing in front of him. “You’re not ready to have my cock inside you yet, Lucy. I have other plans for you right now,” he growls into my ear as his hands reach around to unclasp my bra, letting it fall to the hardwood floor. My arms dangle lifelessly at my side, unsure of where to touch him next.

My mouth salivates at the thought of falling to my knees and deep-throating him, but another part of my body is throbbing, and I need him there more than anything. Any thoughts of taking Jake into my mouth are thrown out the window when he undoes my shorts, ultimately dropping them unto the floor along with his body as he kneels before me.

He eagerly pushes apart my legs before looking up into my eyes. His tongue inches out to lick his lips before he brings his mouth to my heated, wet folds. I’m immediately transported into another world the second his tongue spreads between my legs and finds my slick clit. I no longer need to fantasize about Jake being the one between my legs and making me come. He’s here right now.

My hands fervently tangle in his damp hair, pulling him deeper into my core. The moans from Jake’s throat vibrate against me, and I’m already feeling the pressure between my legs building to a level it never has before. He pulls away as my knees tremble, and my naked body glistens with heated dampness.

“Come for me, Luce. I want to taste your juices all over my tongue.”

His words alone set my body spiraling out of control until his mouth is back on me. His tongue dances around my clit as his fingers slide inside my entrance. My body welcomes his strong fingers. I feel my walls throbbing around them as he picks up the pace both inside and out, and I can’t hold on any longer. My hands push against the back of his head, pulling him flush against me as my orgasm courses through my body. I scream his name with erotic pleasure as my head rolls back, and my eyes clamp shut, but I still only see Jake between my legs. His mouth and tongue prove they still work the same as before. My body shakes and grows weaker through Jake’s torturous assault of his fingers inside me.

I remember now why I can never envision anyone besides Jake while I fuck another guy. He’s always been the only one who could make me come like this. Nobody else.

As my breathing begins to settle, my eyes slowly open, and I chuckle at the fact I just experienced the best orgasm I’ve had in seven years. Then, all of a sudden, the feeling of ecstasy is missing from my core, and I roll my head back down to see why Jake stopped.

Pushing my tangled hair off my face, my eyes rove back to where Jake knelt before me moments ago. It’s suddenly empty, and the room is no longer Jake’s. I’m fully dressed again, and I quickly glance around the room to figure out where I am until I realize I’m back in my old house. The house I no longer live in with my roommates, all because Stone tried to kill Sam and me nearly a month ago.

Movement by the doorway catches my attention, and I immediately assume it’s Jake. When I look up, I see his haunting face staring back at me. It’s not Jake. It’s Stone, and his face seethes with anger as blood drips from the side of his head.

What the hell happened to Jake? Stone is supposed to be dead. I know he’s dead. Everyone told me he was shot and killed.

My body stills for a second until he starts rushing toward me, but my feet can’t move. It’s as though I’m stuck in quicksand, and there’s no escape. His hands dart to reach around my neck as I begin to scream for my life. My eyes slam shut, and I can’t stand to watch what he’s about to do to me.

As I anticipate Stone’s death grip around my neck, I hear another girl screaming in the distance.

That doesn’t sound like Sam.
Who could possibly be screaming?

My heart rate accelerates, and my body forces itself to help whoever is screaming and fighting to survive. I gave up too soon last time. I will never let that happen again.

I feel my body shoot upward, and my eyes widen instantly. The hotel logo sits on the flyer perched on the nightstand next to me. My hands nervously shake as they grip the blankets covering me. The television is on with the source of the screams that disturbed me moments ago, waking me from my dream.

I must have dozed off in the hotel room while watching
Catching Fire
. It was Katiniss’ screams in the movie that broke me from my dream. It all starts to come back to me. I know I need to get to Breckenridge. My parents are expecting me in a couple of days, but after my lengthy ten-hour drive across the very long state of Pennsylvania, I needed a break. I recall pulling off the highway somewhere near Indiana around midnight, and fortunately, the first hotel I came across had a room available.

The hot guy behind the front desk clearly wanted to get into my pants. He kept giving me this look with his come-fuck-me eyes that gleamed while he sexily tousled his hair. The minute he took a sip from his Grumpy Cat coffee cup, I nixed the idea of even flirting back. Don’t get me wrong. I love Grumpy Cat, and on any other day of the week, I might have fucked him, but after driving all day, sex was the last thing I wanted to do.

I know. I must be coming down with something.

Besides, I just really wanted to sleep for once, but only after I read some more of the hilarious parody I downloaded onto my e-reader last week. I’m a
Hunger Games
junkie and have read the books and watched the movies multiple times. I’ll be the first to admit I’ve read
The Humping Games
by Jack Gallow at least ten times already. Each time I laugh even more than the last. I swear, this book actually made my hospital stay and dealing with my parents tolerable. Trust me when I say it was possibly the worst three days of my life. If it weren’t for
The Humping Games
,
I might not have found my smile as fast as I did.

As I look down to the e-reader still ablaze on the comforter next to me, I notice where I left off reading.

Oh, yeah.
I chuckle softly.
Chapter five.

One character in particular I connected with on a freaky level. Her name is Rabbitfoot. She slithers across the floor, licking spilled booze and killing men after having sex with them. Now that’s a girl after my own heart!

I turn off my e-reader and lie back against the pile of pillows. I continue to watch the movie and attempt to keep my mind from diverting to thoughts of Jake. After the dream I just woke up from, I know this will be hard to do, so I reach for my cell phone and type out a quick text to Sam, letting her know where I am and I’ll be in touch soon. Then, I send my sister, Ellen, a text as well. I know she’ll still be awake, and it will prevent me from having to deal with my overbearing parents, who most likely are already asleep anyway. Ellen, on the other hand, is probably still living it up in downtown Breckenridge at the dive bar where she works.

After hitting
Send
, I plug my phone into the charger and turn off the light next to the bed. The TV is still glowing throughout the room. I try to concentrate on my favorite movie, but as I close my weary eyes, only one image appears.

Jake’s face.

Sigh.

It’s the last thing I remember seeing before sleep totally consumes me.

Another night, another bar, and another chick grinding up against my cock. Same shit. Different day. Story of my fuckin’ life for the past seven years.

Growl.

If this chick doesn’t stop pushing her tits up against me and running her hands over my cock, I just might have to ditch her. I grab my beer from the bar and take a long pull before leaning over to her ear. She’s not even paying attention to me. Her eyes are glazed over from one too many blueberry vodka and lemonade concoctions they serve here at The Loaded Tavern.

“Sweetheart, keep scratching that itch between my legs and the only thing you’ll be sucking back tonight are more of those drinks you’ve pounded all afternoon,” I explain loud enough for only her to hear. I don’t even know her name nor do I care.

It’s Bike Week in Breckenridge, which means the town is swarming with tourists. This chick falls into that category, but most of the people around these parts tend to be tourists this time of year. They’re hikers, bikers, or big money snobs that travel down from Vail or sometimes Aspen, probably here to see how normal people live. I think Stacey, Tracey, or whatever her name is, mentioned she drove out from Denver with a bunch of girls for a weekend getaway.

I don’t know, and I don’t care. I stopped listening ages ago. You know, before she had her third blueberry girlie drink. She’s like all the other girls I slam. Just here for the weekend and gone the next. I don’t give a shit about any of them. Most of them have nice racks, but I’ve seen enough tits and pussies since college. They all start to look the same after a while.

I have my own life, my own responsibilities, and a family business to keep running. On top of that, I work at the local fire department.

That is why the chicks love to throw themselves at my feet. They hear I’m a hose dragger, and they immediately assume I’m hung like a moose and an easy fuck.

Ehhh.

They could be on to something.

There isn’t a moment that goes by that I don’t regret my past decisions after high school. My life might have turned out a whole lot different than it is right now. I had that someone special in my life, and I let her go, and she never came back. All the women and all the booze might have been avoided had I used the right head back then.

Nothing is going to bring her back.

Lucy Wyatt walked out of my life seven years ago, and it was all because of me. I loved that girl more than anything, but I was young and thought I knew everything. All my friends were breaking up with their girls before college, and I followed suit. I wanted to have that college experience without any ties. I was going to party it up with all my new friends who came from somewhere other than Breckenridge. I couldn’t see anything but a good time ahead of me.

Biggest fucking mistake of my life.

I realize my thoughts have gone back to that place I hate going when I hear my buddy, Kent, laughing at the other end of the bar. He’s also with a girl he met this weekend, except she isn’t a sloppy drunk at the moment like this chick beside me. I’m not feeling her anymore, so as she runs her hands over me again, I firmly push them back toward her and pull her down to her friend who is with Kent.

“I’m out,” I tell Kent as he raises his chin to acknowledge me.

“You taking that one home with you?” he asks before placing his beer onto the bar.

“No fucking way. She can go home with her friend, or if you want a go at her, be my guest,” I say before slapping him on the shoulder and making my way to the exit.

The minute the fresh, clean mountain air hits my lungs I feel alive again. The bar scene was suffocating me tonight, especially with the sloppy blueberry inside. Turning to walk through downtown and heading in the direction of my truck, I notice the streets are bustling with people and bikes.

I’ll be happy when everyone starts to clear out of here and the town quiets down. Parking is always an issue whenever there is a huge event going on, which is why I had to park on one of the side streets away from downtown.

As I’m about to walk around the front of my truck, I reach into my pocket and fish for my keys. When I look up, I swear my eyes have to be playing games with me. A Volkswagen Beetle pulls up to the four-way stop in front of me, and the person behind the wheel leaves me standing like a fucking scarecrow.

If I didn’t know any better, I would say the blonde driving that car, tapping one hand on the top of the steering wheel, the other hanging out the window and singing along to what sounds like an Adele song is none other than Lucy Wyatt. I’d recognize that face anywhere. Even with the music blaring through the speakers, I hear Lucy’s voice over the song. The plates on the car are from Massachusetts, and the last I heard from Lucy’s sister, Ellen, she was living in New England somewhere. I’ve avoided her sister for a number of years, simply because she hates my guts after what I did to Lucy that summer after high school. Apparently, according to her, I’m the reason why Lucy hasn’t been home after all these years.