Tortured Skye: A Hawke Family Novel (The Hawke Family Book 2) by Gwyn McNamee

Author:Gwyn McNamee [McNamee, Gwyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gwyn McNamee
Published: 2017-03-29T18:30:00+00:00

Her scent envelops me. Every breath I take sucks it into my lungs and warms me with contentment. I could lie here all day, just breathing her in and relishing her warm skin pressed against me.

But I can’t.

I crack my eyes open and muted light from the windows hits my eyes. With a groan, I move my face away from Skye’s neck and glance at the clock. 6:15 a.m. Rain pings against the window and the howl of the wind outside warns of the impending threat.

Last night was…

Jesus, I don’t even have a word for it.

Sex has always been a means to an end—a way to relieve my stress and quiet some of the voices in my head. But that wasn’t sex. At least, it wasn’t the kind of sex I have. That wasn’t fucking. That was something completely otherworldly, and the fact I can never have it again causes bile to rise up my throat and my chest to constrict so tightly, I can barely breathe.

The fact I didn’t have a nightmare last night does not go unnoticed, but I can’t lie here and consider why. Why doesn’t matter anymore. After what happened with my father, I was fairly confident more restless, haunted nights were in my future, so sleeping soundly is almost as shocking to me as what he did. Although, knowing what I have to do now may have played a role in my uninhibited sleep. Maybe finally making the decision was all I needed.

I try to extricate myself from Skye without waking her, but we’re too tangled together, and when I unwrap my arm from around her chest, she stirs, shifting against me and moaning softly.

Shit.

She’s not going to make this easy for me.

Her head turns toward me, and she studies me over her shoulder—her eyes still slightly glazed and lids heavy with sleep.

“Hey.”

Fuck.

That gravelly, sexy morning voice goes straight to my cock.

Down boy.

Morning sex is not an option. Having sex with her ever again is not a possibility.

It’s better to end things now than to let them get further complicated by burying myself inside her one more time.

I force a small smile. “Good morning.”

She rolls over until she’s facing me and slides her hand under my bicep so she can wrap her arm around my rib cage. My skin is still sensitive and tight there, but it doesn’t hurt. I almost wish it would.

Her breasts push against my chest, and my morning wood is wedged into her belly.

This is not fucking helping.

Nails lightly graze the skin on my back across my spine. I relax into her touch, closing my eyes, and relishing the caress. My mind clears. This is the most at peace I’ve felt in a long fucking time, but it’s only because my mind is made up. There will be no more worrying about what our actions mean for all the relationships involved. No more lying to my best friend. No more avoiding him at all costs.

Her lips press against my pec, just above my nipple piercing and a shudder rolls through my body.

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