Ridin' Solo (Sisters From Hell Book 1), Marika Ray [librera reader txt] 📗

I got along fine, but she’d stayed a part of the social life I’d had before, existing on a superficial level that just wasn’t enough for me anymore. When Dad died suddenly two years back, we’d all just fallen apart in our grief, no closer than we’d been when he was alive. I had a feeling that Oakley’s family would have banded together over their shared pain.

Even worse than the pang of sadness was the fierce knowledge that I ached right down to my bones for what Oakley had. I was jealous, plain and simple. I wanted that for myself. I wanted to build a family like that, but had no idea where to start.

Actually, that was a lie. I knew where to start. It started with Oakley.

But she was my partner. At work. Not in my personal life, no matter how much I wanted that.

I finished eating the leftover lasagna I’d made over the weekend and headed to the living room to watch some television before I went to bed and dreamt of Oakley in that freaking dress she’d had on at the baby shower. Headlights flashed through my front window, and I jumped up to look through the blinds. I had a feeling I knew what was about to happen. Feeling like a kid on Christmas morning, I peeked outside to see Poppy trudging up the walkway, whistling a jaunty tune. Of course, she’d hand deliver this package, the little shit stirrer.

Oakley answered the door in the same outfit she’d worn when she came over and kissed me. Minus the hideous Crocs. Oddly, I missed those weird things. That is, until my gaze hit the clear outline of her nipples in the flimsy tank top and I forgot to breathe. Damn. Maybe I should gift her a pair of pajamas. Thick, flannel, long-sleeved pajamas that covered every inch of that gorgeous body.

Poppy handed over the plain brown package and Oakley rolled her eyes, recognizing where it was from. Poppy winked and two-stepped back down the walkway, full of energy with a new bit of gossip to spread. Oakley stepped back inside, but before she closed her door, she glanced over at my house. I jumped away from the window, my heart in my throat, pretty sure she hadn’t seen me. When I dared peek back outside, Oakley had shut her door and Poppy was driving away.

You see, I’d started buying things for Oakley. Little gifts when I was thinking about her. Which was pretty much all the time, so she got a lot of gifts. The other night I’d had a few too many beers with my dinner and tiptoed over the line of friendship we’d established. I’d found myself on the Hardware Store website and found a little something for her I thought she’d like. It wasn’t actually little, truth be told. The more-than-life-size dildo was extra large for her pleasure. Figured it was the closest thing to being in Oakley’s bed.

The note I’d asked them to attach to her latest gift?

Even at this ungodly size, the real thing is still better.

Of course, she’d know it was from me. That was the whole point. I wanted her to use it and think of me. I wanted her as tortured as I was every time I laid my head down at night and couldn’t get her out of my brain.

Speaking of, I had my own business to take care of after seeing Oakley in her teeny tiny pajamas. I was sporting steel under these shorts and now I had a new visual to get off to. I turned the television off and sauntered into my bedroom, which had a view of Oakley’s bedroom window.

As was usual, her light was on, curtains closed. I could see her dark silhouette as she moved about the room. I imagined her naked in there, admiring her new dildo and thanking me profusely for it. She’d toss it over her shoulder and drop to her knees, looking up at me to say she finally wanted the real thing. My hand went to my covered cock, giving it a hard tug as I got into the daydream.

Oakley’s curtain fluttered and then whipped open in the blink of an eye. My hand froze, caught in the act. Oakley stood there in her pajamas with her arms above her head, her nipples hard enough to cut glass, and a wide expanse of bare stomach keeping me mesmerized.

She looked right at me, her left eyebrow rising.

Shit. My hand was on my dick. It was pretty obvious what I’d been doing before she’d opened her curtains. Whatever. Wyatt Smith didn’t back down in the face of danger; I doubled down. I finally moved my hand, but only to give my cock a long stroke from base to tip. She licked her lips but didn’t look away.

Reaching behind her, Oakley produced the dildo, dragging it down her chest and between her perfect breasts. I watched, utterly transfixed. The dildo stopped just above her ridiculous excuse for shorts. She bit her lip and my dick jumped. The tip of the dildo breached the waistband—and she whipped the curtains closed again, blocking her from my view.

“No!” I yelled out loud. “What a damn tease!”

I flopped back on my bed when it became clear she wasn’t coming out again. The ceiling fan twirled lazily above me, undisturbed by my outburst. It wasn’t lost on me she’d merely been giving back what she got. I’d been teasing her since the day we’d met. And fuck if she didn’t raise the score just now.

And that excited me more than seeing her beautiful body. I pushed my shorts down and took my problem in hand, picturing Oakley framed in that doorway, only my hands and dick replaced the damn dildo. It wasn’t long before I was groaning her name, knowing even then I wouldn’t be able to get her out of my head.

I had to face the facts.

I was head over ass in love with