[Forever After 01.0] Marry Me for Money

by Mia Kayla

  I felt strong hands pull me up, and I yelped as an officer dragged me away from the scene. Words were exchanged back and forth between Jesse and the officers, but I didn’t comprehend what was being said. The only sound that I kept on hearing was the ear-splitting boom of the gunshot earlier.

  “She’s my wife,” I heard him say.

  Hands reached under my knees and lifted me. When I glanced up, it was Kent, and automatically, I collapsed into his arms, held him tightly, and sobbed uncontrollably into his neck. I was shaking as he held me, the tremors from my cries taking control of my body. I didn’t pay attention to where we were going. I just held onto him for dear life as if he was the air I needed to breathe.

  “Shh…it’s okay. I’m here. I’m going to take care of you,” he said, pulling me closer toward him. He kissed my forehead and held me like a small child. He comforted me with his words telling me that everything was going to be okay, over and over again. Not once did he let me go. If anything he held me tighter.

  I cried and cried until my tears ducts were dry, and when the sobbing slowed, I realized that we were in the back of a cop car. He placed both hands under my chin, searched my face, and wiped the tears under my eyes with his thumbs.

  “Did he hurt you? Should we go to a hospital?”

  I stared at him from under my lashes and shook my head. He gripped me closely, pulling me flush against him, and kissed my forehead forcefully.

  “Thank God,” he whispered.

  The cop opened the backseat of the car to peer in.

  “Ma’am, we’ll need a statement. Before that though, I think you should get checked out for any trauma. The crime scene is cleared and they’ve taken the culprit down to the station. There is an ambulance outside. In any way, did that guy use force on you?”

  I shook my head to indicate ‘No’.

  “At the minimum, you should at least get that scrape on your knee looked at.”

  I nodded, and Kent scooted out of the car. As I stepped away from the car, Kent lifted me again and carried me to the ambulance. I nestled closely, resting my head against his chest, as I relaxed in his arms, taking in his masculine scent that calmed me.

  He positioned me at the back of the ambulance truck, and a nurse tended to the scrape on my leg. I flinched at the sting of the alcohol wipe against my bloody knee and observed the nurse as she tended to my wound. Dazed and tired from what had happened, I zoned out as my adrenaline died down.

  My head popped up when I heard Kent yelling. I saw him pacing back and forth with my phone in one hand and his other on his hip. “No. You cannot talk to her. You’re the reason she got into this mess. I warned you and that bastard to never contact her. No. You can’t. She doesn’t want to speak to you. There is nothing you can say that she wants to hear.”

  When he glanced my way, I motioned him toward me.

  “I said, no. What don’t you understand? If you want to speak to someone, you can speak to Officer Daniels. He said he’d be contacting you, and you can bet I made sure he had your number.”

  I reached for his arm. “Just tell her that I’m okay. I don’t want to talk to her, but just tell her I’m okay,” I said, my voice hoarse.

  “She said she doesn’t want to talk to you, and she’s okay. That’s the end of this conversation.” He hung up the phone, reached for my hand and squeezed it. Immediately, he softened at our touch. “Ready?” he asked, his warm eyes meeting mine, a contrast from his mood a moment earlier.

  I nodded.

  “Let’s make your statement, and then I’m taking you home,” he said, assisting me from the ambulance.

  As soon as we stepped into Kent’s condo, Mom and Dad charged toward us and wrapped their arms around both of us.

  Mom took hold of my hand, walking me further into the condo. When we were in the living room, her hands cradled my face, examining my features as if I could disappear in an instant. Her warmth that always surrounded her was amplified as she took hold of me, bringing me close and thanking the heavens above that I was okay.

  Men weren’t affectionate. They didn’t usually show much emotion. But after Kent relived the day by telling his father all that had happened, his dad gripped him close and patted his back. Dad’s eyes showed relief and thankfulness. It was the most I’d ever seen them interact on a physical level, and it showed me the amount of love Dad had for his son.

  The high-speed chase was broadcasted all over the news, and by now, everyone had heard. Caroline, Kendy, and Aunt Diane had called to check that I was okay. After almost thirty minutes of reassurance, I tried to convince Kendy that she didn’t have to drive down to Chicago. When Kent reached for the phone and ensured her that he would take care of me, only then did she calm down.

  With the adrenaline long gone, exhaustion hit me, and all I wanted to do was sleep. I was glad when Kent sensed my mood and hurried his parents out. After we said our good-byes, I stood and watched him close the door. I wrapped my arms around myself to hold myself up as tiredness hit.

  He walked toward me, searched my face, and slid one arm around me. “Let’s get you to bed.”

  I changed into my pajamas and lay in my bed in the spare bedroom.

  “You just stay there. I’ll cook you something and bring it to you,” he said, sitting on the edge of my bed.

  He brushed a strand of hair from my face, and I leaned into his touch.

  Staring up at him, I was so grateful that he was here with me. My heart swelled as I thought of how he’d saved me today by calling the police, how he’d cared for me at the crime scene, and how he’d continued to take care of me now.

  “I never said thank you. I just want to thank you, Kent, for calling the police today and for—”

  “Beth, you don’t have to thank me. All that matters is that you’re safe…here…with me.” He pulled me in by the nape of my neck and kissed my forehead tenderly.

  I closed my eyes and exhaled, relishing in the warmth of his touch. In that moment, I felt so cared for, so loved.

  He was the first to break contact as he backed away and moved from the bed. “I’ll go get you something to eat.”

  Kent tucked me in that night and brought me dinner in bed as if I were sick. I basked in his comfort and as he sat next to me as we watched TV together, I realized one thing. I’d realized that I was madly and deeply in love with my best friend. I didn’t know when it happened or how it happened. I hadn’t even had time to think things through or sort out my feelings along the way. It just happened. With everything that occurred earlier, all my true feelings rushed to the surface.

  I snuggled closer to Kent as he continued to flip through the channels, holding me, as I nestled against his chest, taking in the scent of laundered sheets and pure masculinity. Finally, sleep claimed me as I lay in the comfort of his arms, once again.

  Chapter 18

  After a couple of days, everything went back to normal. The gossip of what had happened and the concerned people asking if I was okay had lessened. I’d found out from Kendy that Jamie was going to testify against Jesse and that she’d only found out of his plan to rob the bank when she was actually in front of the building. Jamie was supposed to be the getaway driver, but she’d left the car as soon as he stepped into the bank. The prosecution was going to try to charge her with aiding and abetting until Jamie agreed to testify against Jesse.

  Jamie had called Aunt Diane to check on me, but I didn’t want to talk to her. I was glad she wasn’t with the loser, but she had never been a part of my life. Just when I was getting my life together, I didn’t want her to ruin it.

  My days with Kent had turned into a routine. I would wake up for work, and when I walked out of my bedroom, Kent would already be up with a cooked breakfast on the counter. He would walk me to the elevator, seeing me off to work. Everything would have been fine if his hand didn’t linger on mine when he would pass me the orange juice, if his knee didn’t brush against mine when we would sit at the counter, if his embrace before I would step in
to the elevator was less intimate and shorter, and if his eyes didn’t darken when they would meet mine.

  It was driving me insane—absolutely insane.

  It was fun living together because our laughter never ended, but it was torture at the same time. The near misses were escalating to a point of almost combustion, and each and every time, I’d wanted him to give in. I just wanted him to give in to temptation and cross that line because I would respond without restraint. I wanted him to say he’d change his ways for me and that he wanted me, and only me, to be his.

  It was only two more weeks until our deadline. The closer that date approached, the heavier my heart felt. I didn’t want it to end, but it was torture to feel this way toward him, knowing he couldn’t give me the kind of commitment I needed.

  Every night, Kent would cook me dinner. Where I was a good cook, Kent was exceptional as he was a perfectionist in the kitchen. His sauces were always flavorful, and he had to have the right amount of spices.

  During the routine preparation of dinner, I would watch his muscles move under his T-shirt as he reached for bowls in his cabinets. I was his assistant, and although I enjoyed learning about the art of cooking, I enjoyed watching the art of Kent cooking more and found it harder and harder to concentrate.

  “Can you stir the sauce?” he asked, putting the bowls on the counter.

  I moved toward the stove, picked up the wooden spoon, and began to stir the sauce in the pan. The scent of tomatoes and garlic filled the air, and my stomach grumbled in response.

  I felt him move closer behind me.

  “Continue stirring,” he said, placing his hand on mine stirring with the wooden spoon. “You don’t want the bottom to burn.”

  He was so close that I could feel his breath against my neck. I could barely handle the heat, and it wasn’t from the nearness of the stove. I leaned back into him because—well, I wanted to be near him. I bit my lip and rested against him as I felt a hypersensitivity wherever our bodies touched, his chest to my back. Right before I was about to turn around, he released my hand and backed away. “Keep stirring,” he said, his voice deeper.

  I closed my eyes to compose myself, to calm my raging pulse and yelped when my pinkie finger touched the edge of the pan. “Ow.” I dropped the wooden spoon, and tomato sauce spilled on the floor.

  He grabbed my hand and inspected it. “Let me see.”

  I forgot about the pain when he quickly placed my pinkie in his mouth, sucking it lightly. Our eyes locked as I watched him pull at my pinkie with his tongue. The warmth of his tongue on my flesh heated my insides to immeasurable temperatures, and I felt that yearning hunger in the pit of my stomach. That electricity between us was there, thick and palpable. The need and want in his eyes mirrored mine. I leaned into him ever so slightly. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted him to kiss me. I waited for it.

  But he closed his eyes, and at once, he released me. “There. Better.” He dropped my hand and picked up the wooden spoon off the floor. “You have to be more careful. Do you need a Band-Aid?” he asked, not meeting my eyes.

  “I’ll get one.” I staggered back before almost running to the bathroom.

  I closed the door and leaned against it, using it as support. I took deep breaths to calm my stammering heart in my chest. I didn’t know how to make it more obvious without stripping naked and yelling for him to take me. I wanted him but not only on a physical level. I wanted him to be solely mine, and only he could decide that, so he had to be the one to make the first move.

  When I walked back to the kitchen, I caught Kent pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes were closed as he furrowed his brow in concentration.

  I didn’t know how much I could take. Given all the tension rising between us and the feelings rising within me, I wondered if we could go back to our friendship as it had been before. More than that, I wondered if he felt the same and had feelings for me too.

  Kent was sitting on the couch in front of the TV when I walked into the condo after work.

  “How was your customer call?” he asked, flipping through the channels with the remote in his hand.

  “Long and boring.” I dropped my laptop bag on the floor. “I could never be a banker. They wine and dine every day and have so many night functions. When I’m done with work, I’m glad I’m done for the day.”

  I walked over and plopped myself next to him on the couch. Closing my eyes, I rolled my neck from side to side to ease the tension from the long day. Working from eight to five in front of a computer and then logging off to attend a customer dinner had just been too much to handle. I was glad I didn’t have to do it on a daily basis.

  “Come here,” he said, “I give the best massages. You look stressed.”

  He parted his knees and dropped the remote, as I moved to sit in front of him. He began to knead my shoulders with his thumbs, and I eased into his touch.

  “Mmm…you’re pretty good at this,” I said with my eyes closed.

  “When will you figure out that there’s nothing I’m not good at?” He chuckled.

  I opened my eyes to watch the news as Kent continued to work my shoulders.

  “Did you do anything today? Did you go to the gym?” I relaxed my shoulders, feeling the tension slowly ooze out of me.

  His hands moved to my shoulder blades as he began retelling his day’s events. His fingers were magic, and I began to feel each muscle relax with his touch. Moving his hands to the middle of my back, he used his palms to work the tension out and undo each and every knot. After a while, a slow sigh of relaxation escaped me. The tension of the day’s hard work slowly disappeared as his fingers kneaded my flesh, and I found myself sinking into the couch. Moving further down, his hands massaged my lower back, and eventually, they shifted to my hipbones. I felt the pressure of his fingertips deepen against my skin and the sudden sensation of warmth flooded my body.

  His touches moved slowly and intensified as feelings of relaxation transformed into something else. It was something deep and dark—and something a paid masseuse shouldn’t be doing. I didn’t even notice when he’d stopped talking. His hands continued from my hip bones to my thighs, massaging and kneading and touching. I didn’t know what came over me, but I leaned back against him, wanting to be closer. His breathing changed, and I could feel his labored deep breaths coming through his nose and onto my neck. His hands shifted to my inner thighs where he continued to rub slower, deeper, and with heightened pressure.

  Leaning my head back, I felt his tongue on my neck. Heat spread throughout my body. I felt tingly from where his tongue met my flesh. The sensation spread from the deepest part of my belly to the tip of my toes. He pulled me against him, gripping me closer, as his hands continued to massage my inner thighs. I felt him erect against my back, and I moved against him, fully turned-on, as my breathing accelerated, giving away my arousal.

  It was all too much to take. All at once, he grabbed the side of my neck, turned my face toward him, and slammed his lips down on mine, his tongue invading my mouth. I gave it right back and opened my mouth to let him find passage, welcoming him, meeting him. He tasted of mint as I bit hard on his lower lip, and I was rewarded when a moan slipped from his mouth. His soft touches were gone, and he kissed me hard and rough, his tongue tasting mine.

  Framing my face with both of his hands, he attacked my lips and moved my legs to straddle him in one swift movement. He grabbed my bottom and pushed me closer to him. I moved against his hardness and felt my wetness soak my panties. He lifted me, and I wrapped my legs around him as he carried me to his bedroom. His lips never left mine as he dropped me onto the bed and rested between my knees. I kissed him back, meeting his tongue, tasting and feeling him. He groped me through my clothes, every part he could get a hold of.

  Spreading my knees apart, I felt his hand travel under my skirt, up my thigh, and to my center where he rubbed his hand against my sweet spot. When he moved my panties out of the way and his finger pierced me, I let out a small moan of pleasur
e.

  “Oh, Kent,” I exhaled, moving against him.

  He pulled back slightly and as he peered down at me, lust filled his eyes. As if saying his name, released his sexual beast inside, he continued to create this sensual friction inside me with his fingers. His breathing accelerated, and when his mouth moved to my neck I turned to give him better access. He licked and sucked my neck, and there was no doubt I would have a hickey in the morning, but I didn’t care. I ran my hands through his hair and tugged at the ends, hard.

  He was flush against me, but it wasn’t close enough. I arched my back toward him, rubbing myself against his chest, as I wanted to be even closer. My silk shirt was now an itchy barrier between us. Reading my mind, he withdrew his hand and loomed over me. I sat up a little as he lifted my shirt over my head and tossed it to the side. I tugged on the bottom hem of his T-shirt, and he complied, lifting the shirt above his head before throwing it on the floor. Slipping my skirt down and off, I was now only in a bra and panties.

  Kent pressed himself on top of me, and his lips were on mine again. His hand moved to my back to undo my bra, and in a flash, it was off. As he moved on top of me, I was on fire and soaking wet. I ran my nails roughly over the muscles of his back and down into the back of his pajama pants. I squeezed his backside to press him down onto me as I lifted my hips to grind against him.

  “Shit,” he said, breathing harder, giving me a thrill.

  His lips moved to my breast, sucking and teasing with his tongue. I was sensitive all over, and at that moment, I wanted to feel him in me. I moved my hands to his hip bones to slip off his pants, but he inched even lower, placing his lips on my belly, his tongue dipping into my navel.