Stroking Through Pajamas

HAZEL

The shrill ring of my phone jolts me from a tear-soaked, miserable sleep. I blink at the glaring screen in the dark bedroom. The vivid memory of the party comes crashing back with agonizing clarity. I can still hear the deafening bass of the electronic music vibrating through the floorboards. I can still hear Cole’s breathless groan in that tiled bathroom, and Chloe’s cruel, flirtatious giggles. *She is harmless. I do not want to hurt her feelings. But yeah, she has been clinging pretty hard lately.* His careless words had shattered my fragile heart into a million jagged pieces. I had cried until my eyes felt swollen and my chest ached. I had sent that reckless, spiteful text to the devil himself. Now, the devil is calling.

The caller ID flashes bright against the shadows of my dorm room, demanding my immediate attention.

Cade.

I swipe the glass screen to answer, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. My hands shake so badly I almost drop the device.

"Hello?" My voice cracks, sounding weak and pathetic in the quiet room.

"Come downstairs. I want to see my girlfriend." Cade's deep baritone drifts through the speaker, demanding and casual all at once.

My stomach does a massive flip. Girlfriend. The word sounds foreign, yet he claims the title with an effortless arrogance that sends a hot jolt down my spine.

"I... I'm not—"

"Downstairs. Now." The line goes dead before I can argue.

Every ounce of my better judgment screams at me to stay hidden under the warm bedsheets. I should block his number. I should go back to sleep and pretend none of this is happening. Instead, I stumble off the mattress. I smooth down my messy hair in the dark mirror, pulling a heavy, oversized sweatshirt over my thin cotton pajama pants. I apply a quick swipe of chapstick over my cracked lips, feeling utterly foolish. I slip out of the quiet dorm building and step out into the biting icy night.

The freezing wind hits my face, but the harsh chill evaporates the second I see him.

Cade waits on a sleek, terrifyingly massive black motorcycle. His pale blue eyes lock onto mine the moment I walk through the glass double doors. He looks dangerous, out of place in front of my freshman dorm, sitting there like a dark omen. His long dark hair is slightly messed up from the ride. He doesn't smile as I approach. He just tilts his head and tosses a heavy black helmet straight at my chest. I catch the hard shell clumsily, almost dropping it on the concrete.

"I have upcoming class assignments due soon and... I really shouldn't be out this late." I start babbling nervously to fill the heavy silence between us. I stand there holding the helmet like an idiot.

He steps close and gently flicks my forehead with his finger.

"Tomorrow's Saturday, Sparrow. Stop overthinking." His murmur is low, carrying a rough texture that silences my rising panic.

I swallow my words and slide the heavy helmet over my head. I swing my leg over the bike, sitting stiffly behind him. I try to keep a safe distance, careful not to press my body against his. Cade reaches back. His large hands grab my arms, firmly pulling them tight around his hard waist.

"Hold on properly. I'm not going slow." He warns over his shoulder.

The engine roars to life, vibrating up through my legs with a terrifying, mechanical growl. The bike shoots forward, and I squeal, instinctively tightening my arms around him. We tear off into the black night. My chest presses flush against his solid back, feeling the hard muscles shift beneath his shirt with every turn. The icy wind whips past us, stealing my breath, but his body heat acts like a furnace against my skin. The city lights blur into bright streaks of yellow and red as we speed down the empty streets.

We arrive at his apartment building on the quieter side of campus in record time. My legs feel shaky as I climb off the motorcycle. He takes the helmet from my trembling hands without a word and leads me inside the building.

The inside of his place is minimalist and dark, devoid of personal warmth. Black leather furniture sits on dark hardwood floors. Bare walls stretch across the wide open space. The stark silence makes my nerves spike, echoing the loud thumping of my heart. I walk over and nervously lower myself onto the plush leather couch, crossing my arms over my chest in a futile attempt to shield myself from his intense presence.

My phone vibrates loudly against the glass coffee table. I glance at the illuminated screen. A text from Cole stares back at me.

[Where are you? We need to talk. It's important.]

A brief pang of guilt hits me, souring my stomach. My mind flashes back to the bathroom at the party, to the wet sounds of Cole kissing Chloe behind my back. The guilt instantly morphs into bitter resentment. But my train of thought derails the second Cade returns to the living room.

He hands me a bright pink mug filled with water. The cheerful color looks ridiculous against his imposing, dark aura and the bleak apartment decor. It makes me giggle before I can stop myself. Cade raises an eyebrow but says nothing. I take the mug with shaking hands, bringing the ceramic rim to my lips to take a slow, calming sip.

Cade turns his back to me to shrug off his heavy leather jacket. As he reaches his arms up, his dark shirt rides high up his torso. Jagged, pale burn scars cover his lower back, stretching down beneath the waistband of his jeans. My breath catches in my throat. The raised marks slash across his pale skin. I catch a brief glimpse of his white underwear just above the denim. The vivid memory of his hard, muscular body pressing flush against mine during our dare rushes into my mind. I remember the rigid feel of him, the sheer heat radiating off his skin. Intense heat floods my face. I quickly look away, taking another desperate gulp of water.

Feeling out of my depth, I try to subtly scoot away along the cushions like a scared rabbit.

Cade drapes his jacket on a chair, turns, and walks back toward the couch. He sits down. I move again. He shifts closer. I keep moving until my hip hits the far armrest.

Cade's reflexes are lightning fast. His large hand shoots out, grabbing my waist. He pulls me forcefully across the leather couch, firmly pinning my back against the armrest. The pink mug vanishes from my grip in the blink of an eye, placed safely onto the table before it can spill.

He leans over me, one arm braced beside my head, trapping me in place. His pale blue eyes bore intensely into mine, stripping away my remaining defenses.

"I can't tell. Are you afraid... or just shy? Do you actually want me to kiss you or not?" His breath is warm on my face.

"I... I don't..." I sputter helplessly, unable to form a coherent sentence under his piercing gaze.

He leans in dangerously close, his face hovering mere inches from mine.

"Think carefully, Sparrow. Because once I start, I am not stopping at seven seconds. I will crash through every single one of your defensive walls, and I won't be gentle about it."

I know I should push his broad chest away. He is the evil twin. He is the exact guy I am supposed to deeply hate. But surrounded by his overwhelming body heat and intoxicating scent, logic dies. The scent of mint and dark leather wraps around my senses, drowning out my rationality. I can see the small mole just above his pink lips. His dark hair falls forward, brushing my cheek. Everything about him feels overwhelming and dangerous.

"Kiss me." I release a shaky, breathless whisper.

"Good girl." He praises me with a dark, gravelly tone.

Instantly, his mouth crashes down onto mine. The kiss is raw, hungry, and wildly possessive. He forces my lips apart, his tongue claiming my mouth with dominating heat. My chaotic thoughts scatter into nothingness as I drown in the taste of him. I lean my body fully into his aggressive assault, my hands instinctively gripping his dark shirt. He devours my mouth, kissing me like he wants to consume my soul.

His other hand moves down my body, grazing over my breast, dipping past my waist, and then lower. The tension snaps tight when his large palm slides deliberately between my thighs. He presses against my core right through the thin cotton fabric of my pajama pants, beginning a slow, rhythmic stroke. The heel of his hand grinds against my sensitive flesh, creating a wicked, building friction. A loud, involuntary moan escapes my parted lips.

We both freeze. Our chests heave as we pant hard for air in the quiet living room. Cade pulls back just enough to look at me. His dark, lust-filled eyes silently demand to know if I truly want this escalation. I can feel the hard, thick length of him pressed flush against my thigh.

I have only ever wanted Cole. But right here, in this dark apartment, Cade is rapidly becoming a craving I cannot shake. My body hums with desperate need. Might as well enjoy this dangerous high while it lasts.

"Y-yes..." I breathe out desperately.

At my permission, he kisses me infinitely harder. His tongue plunges deep into my mouth, mirroring the dirty intent of his hands. His palm slips past the stretchy waistband of my pajamas, finding my bare skin. His long fingers bypass my underwear, sliding down to find my bare clit. He begins to stroke the sensitive nub directly, dragging wet, slick friction over my most intimate spot. Delicious, agonizing sparks of electricity rush through my body.

I writhe and whimper against his mouth. He strokes me with expert precision, rubbing the engorged head of my clit until my hips buck off the cushions. He slowly begins pushing my pajama bottoms down my thighs to expose me further, his fingers never breaking their maddening rhythm. I am laid bare, my legs spreading wider to grant him better access. The cool air of the apartment hits my exposed skin, contrasting sharply with the burning heat of his relentless fingers.

Suddenly, a loud bang shatters the heavy air. The front door swings wide open and slams heavily against the hallway wall.

I frantically scramble back against the couch cushions. I desperately try to pull my pants up to cover myself, but it is far too late.

"What the fuck, Hazel?"

The horrified voice slices through my spine like a frozen blade. I freeze. Slowly, agonizingly, I turn my head toward the entryway.

Cole stands right in the doorway. His wide, disbelieving eyes lock on Cade's hand, which is still resting intimately between my bare thighs.