Pyke novel Chapter 14

Reluctantly, I pull my arm that has been draped around Camila’s waist. A grin spread on my lips, and I pause when she stirs. I don’t want to wake her up until I do my plan.

I never thought that last night was the best night of my life. I’ve had sex with many women—they were all incredible, but there’s something about Camila, and what’s between me and her is incomparable—our connections—it’s weird but I am starting to like it now I know the feeling of being with her.

The sex was unbelievably amazing—perfect.

I’ve never spent a night with a woman, but last night all I wanted was to hug her tight in my arms, spooned her until we fell asleep.

I slowly drag myself out of her bed, tiptoeing and picking up my clothes scattered on the floor. I grab the keys from her dresser and walk out of her bedroom.

After wearing my clothes, I quickly fish out my phone from my pocket and type a message to Xandry.

All Yours.

I shove the phone back to my pocket when I see the message is sent. I don’t care about the fucking money and the stupid bet anymore. I’ve got the best thing in my life. Having her once is not enough, and I want more of her—I want her all to myself. I know, I’m a greedy and selfish bastard.

Fuck! I’m pussy-field.

An hour later, I’m back to her apartment with some groceries. I didn’t bother waking her up last night when she fell asleep, but she’ll be up soon, and I’m sure she’s already starving.

I place the grocery bags on the kitchen counter. Their appliances are old but these might still work properly.

I add some salt and pepper after cracking some eggs into the glass bowl and whisk it. I used to wake up early and cooked breakfast when I was in college. I shared an apartment with Xandry until we graduated. When dad handed over the club to me, it came with a full package—an apartment at Hughes building.

I toast some sliced bread after I’m done with the omelet and start frying strips of bacon to the same pan. The coffee is already brewing. I place two mugs down the kitchen Island when Camila stops to a halt with wide eyes and bedhead hair.

Damn if she’s not the sexiest woman early in the morning.

Her nipples are poking through her orange sleep shirt. I lick my lips and flash a smile. If she only has any idea what’s on my mind right now, she should have at least wear a bra before getting out of her room. I desire her so much that it aches.

I walk toward her while wiping my hands with the strawberry printed apron I’m wearing. I cup her face and kiss her like I always wanted. She tastes minty—probably from her toothpaste. I bite her bottom lip when she doesn’t respond, and I’m rewarded with her moan. My dick instantly hardens.

She cups my face before I can press myself into her, instead of deepening the kiss, she pushes me away. Her gaze shifts to the counter then back to me.

“W-what are you doing, Pyke?” She snapped, still catching her breath. “What are you still doing here in my apartment?”

I blink at her questions then suddenly, I smell the burnt bacon before I can reply.

“Shit!” I quickly move to the stove and turn off the fire.

My breathing hitches. My heart squeezes in my chest upon realizing what she means.

“What are you doing?” she asks again. Firmly.

Ignoring her, I grab the panhandle and place it in the sink. The pan frizzles under running water.

“You can go now. Thanks for the last night. Just leave it there, and I’ll take care of it later.”

What the—?

What happened to her? Last night she threw herself to me and now she’s acting like I didn’t eat her up, and buried my cock inside her and pound her till she can barely whisper my name.

She suddenly turns cold and bitchy.

Ignoring her hurtful words, I speak, “Babe, let’s have breakfast without bacon. I’m starving, and we didn’t manage to have dinner last night. I know Kyland won’t be here until tomorrow.”

I feel a sudden pang in my chest. Kyland went to visit his mom and helped up with her doctor’s appointment, and here I am playing a boyfriend role to his cousin.

“I don’t drink coffee,” she says dryly.

“Who doesn’t drink coffee?” I smirk despite she’s frowning at me. Nevertheless, she still looks hot. It’s not an easy task, distracting myself from looking down at her tits and her long legs while pouring coffee to the mug, so I place the pot down.

“You still did not answer me. Do you always cook breakfast with women you slept with?” she asks in a disgusting tone.

Is she always this grumpy in the morning? Annoyance starts to spread in my system.

“What’s going on? Last night you literally threw yourself on me. We had amazing sex. Don’t tell me you did not feel anything, something, and don’t you lie to me that you fake your own orgasms.”

She swallows hard, pink blossoming on her cheeks. She doesn’t have to answer me. It tells only one thing—she had an amazing night as I had.

I inwardly smile.