“What’d they say?” She shouts over the noise. Her cleavage ripples as she brings her hands to her ears to muffle the noise.
“They said I’d better do this.” I carry her all the way to our bedroom and shut the door. If Molly is next door, she won’t hear a damn thing. Thanks to the Plague, Kenny and I can turn up the mattress music as loud as we want. “I’ve been waiting to do this since I saw you in that dress.” I strip off her sweater and she wriggles out of her jeans. “Kenny, I swear I’ve never seen anyone look so damn beautiful.”
“Shut up and kiss me!” She pulls me in by the face and I laugh as our mouths find one another. It’s not going to be easy learning to hold off on our lovemaking until we land safe in our bedroom, but Kenny is worth the wait every single time.
She rakes off my clothes as if there are only minutes to live, and judging by the sirens barreling down the street, she might be right. Kenny jumps up onto my hips with her bare skin against mine, our bellies meeting with an unromantic slap—that was mostly felt, thanks to the Plague’s best effort to be heard on the moon.
I gently push her into the wall and she guides me in. Kenny ravenously peppers my face with kisses as I give that first forceful thrust.
“Yes!” She cries it out at the top of her lungs. Kenny wraps her legs tight around my back, hanging on to my shoulders for dear life.
I head into a barrage of full-throttle blows as I spear into her again and again.
“Harder.” Kenny arches her head so far back she accidentally slams into the wall. She pushes me in by the small of my back while I rail into her, and each time I do she gives my dick a little squeeze by way of the inside of her perfectly fit body.
“God, yes, that,” I pant.
Kenny claws at my back like she’s trying to scale a building, her cries of delight climbing toward the ceiling as if they’re trying to escape.
“Fuck me, Professor Elton! Fuck me!” She screams it so loud the window rattles from her shrill effort.
A loud thump emits from the other side of the wall, and Kenny bites down on her lip. Her face flushes a severe shade of crimson. It’s only then I note the music has ceased and the sound of silence clots up our ears, but I really don’t care because Kenny just gave me a command that I plan on carrying out to completion. I continue my aggressive assault, knocking Kenny into the wall with every other thrust and Molly returning the favor each time with a thump of her own. Thank God I’m too far in to let Molly kill my good time. All the blood in my body and every emotion, feeling, and lust-filled sentiment I’ve ever had for Kenny is culminating in one fantastic explosion that rockets out of me and straight into her. I clutch on and squeeze so tight I think she’s going to crumble while I throb over her body.
“Oh wow.” She throws her arms against the wall and lets them slide lazily down to her sides. Her hair is gloriously messy and her mascara is smeared just enough to give her that sexy-as-hell look that I live to see each morning.
I’m still holding her up with my hips pinned against hers, my hands locked under her thighs.
“That was definitely worth coming home for.” I press a heated kiss over her dewy skin.
“I’ll say.” Her lids flutter dreamily. “But I have a confession.” She bites down on her finger as if she’s ready for round two.
“What’s that?” I pant, never taking my eyes from hers.
“I’ve been a very, very bad girl, Professor Elton. I’ve cheated on all your exams.”
“Really?” I hike a brow, amused at her role-playing antics. I guess it’s enough to break her of public lewdness for now. No point in taking away her not-so-innocent fantasies as well. “Too bad for you because I have a zero tolerance policy against tampering with letter grades.”
“Well then, Professor Elton, I deserve to be punished to the fullest extent.” Kenny gives my bottom a firm squeeze. “I expect nothing less than a firm paddling.”
A brisk knock erupts at the door.
“Get your pants on! And put the damn paddles away,” Molly shouts. “There’s an officer out here, and he wants to speak with you.”
I jump into my sweats and head out to talk to the cops. It turns out all they could do was quiet the Plague for the night and file a report. As luck would have it, I’m liable for all the noise pollution, so any complaints the neighbors have will fall squarely on my shoulders.
After an hour of legal bullshit that ran in the favor of the squatters who set up shop at the B and B, I make my way back inside. Apparently dollars changing hands by the landlord and tenant is merely a detail here in this late, great state I live in. The words “lawyer up” were used, and I swear I saw dollar signs sprout from the cop’s mouth as he said them.
I head into the bedroom and find Kenny curled up in a ball, already fast asleep, and I don’t have the heart to wake her up for that “firm paddling” she’s looking forward to. A part of me wonders if the old Cruise would have done it, and deep down I know I would have. I’d have Kenny on her knees, pretending to beg for mercy until five in the morning, and we both would have enjoyed the shit out of it.
Instead, I glide in next to her and wrap my arm around her waist. Kenny’s bottom nestles in my stomach and I soak it all in. Here we are—my future bride and me, our happily-ever-after just a few months away.
I fall asleep and dream of Kenny hog-tying me with garter belts while spanking the shit out of me with a white satin heel.
8
THIS ONE TAKES THE CAKE
Kendall
Creative Writing just let out and Molly said she wanted to stay a little later to speak with Professor Curl-Your-Toes—she told me not to bother waiting, that she’d find a ride.
I speed out into the brisk air. The kaleidoscope of fall has taken over Garrison, and you can’t take two steps without hearing the satisfying crunch of brittle leaves underfoot. It already looks like evening, with the sun hidden behind a veil of midnight-colored clouds. It keeps threatening to rain, but defers the idea to another time—sort of the way I’ve been putting off my schoolwork, other than creative writing. That happens to be going swimmingly because I’ve devoted every spare moment to jotting down copious details of my sexcapades with Cruise—or more to the point, Professor Belton. God knows I’ve had to pull some oldies but goodies from the vault, but Penny and Cruz have been none the wiser.
I pass the bookstore and spot an entire row of giant paper ghosts lining the window. In a few nights it’ll be Halloween, and Pen is throwing one of his epic parties at Alpha Sigma Phi and made Cruise promise we’d be there. It’s a costume party, so already it sounds like it’ll be fun by default. Still, I wish I could miss it. The truth is I haven’t really cared to go to any parties since Cruise and I have been dating. Of course, I went to Rock Bottom when Morgan was responsible for the hottest party in town. That was before Ally’s ex-boss at the strip club went ballistic and gassed the entire facility, nearly killing both Ally and Morgan. Thank God they’re both okay. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to Ally or my big brother.
A pair of strong hands dig into my shoulders. “Boo.”
I turn to find my gorgeous and very-much-alive big bro.
“Boo yourself. Where’s your better half?” I glance around for signs of his gorgeous girlfriend. I hope he’s pinching himself at least twice a day. He’s that lucky to have her.
His brows rise in response. “I’d argue with you on that, but you happen to be right. She’s pulling an evening shift.”
“Oh! Come home with me. Cruise is making dinner. I know he won’t mind.”
“Mmm.” His dimple digs in on one side of his mouth as he considers the idea. “I’ll pass. I don’t want to be anyone’s third wheel.”
“You won’t! Molly will be there, too.”
“Exactly why you won’t be seeing me.” He gives a wry smile. Molly was a little more than obsessed with him last summer—still is on occasion. “Hey, I talked to Dad today. He wanted me to extend his congratulations. I told him
you’re getting married.”
“Who?” I’m genuinely confused. Does he mean Mom? I bet he means Mom. But she already knows that I’m getting married.
“Dad. You know, the rat bastard who ran out on us when we were kids.” He tickles my ribs for a moment, and I’m quick to brush him and his crazy conversation away.
Morgan and my father—a term I use loosely—have spoken regularly for the past few years. Morgy attended school for a while in Oregon, where said rat bastard lives with his new, unimproved family.
“That’s nice.” I continue to make my way to the parking lot and Morgan follows.
“He says he’d like a chance to talk to you one day if you let him.”
“Really?” I cut a quick glance to the forest. “I doubt he even knows who I am.” He’s long since replaced us. As soon as he left my mother he remarried and had a whole gaggle of brand-new children.
“He knows you, Kendall.” Morgan pulls me to a stop just shy of his truck. “He’s more than sorry for how he left things with us. Trust me, he wants in—at least a little. If I can talk to the guy and not explode in a fit of rage, I know you can, too. You’re a much nicer person than I am.”
“Not when it comes to idiots who abandon their families.” I unlock my car from across the lot. “Look, I’ve got enough stress planning a wedding that at this point has no hope of panning out the way I want. The last thing I need is him trying to worm his way back into my life.”
“You don’t have to let him in all the way.” Morgan leans toward me, a pleading look on his face. “He just wants a chance to say sorry and maybe get to know you. His kids really want to know you, too. The girls had all kinds of questions about you the last time I was there. You have four little sisters, two little brothers. We shouldn’t hold it against them that our father is an ass.”
My heart sinks just thinking about it.
I leap up and wrap my arms around his neck.
“There’s no way I could love any other sibling as much as I love you.”
“Sure you could.” He presses a quiet kiss to the back of my head. “Your heart is huge, Kendall. You could love a lot of people if you let them in.”
He walks me to my car, and I give a little wave before driving off.
I think it’s heartbreakingly sweet that I have brothers and sisters on the opposite coast who would love to meet me. But, in all honesty, I wish my father would stay in the past and keep his heartbreakingly happy family with him.
I’m not ready to let him or anyone else he created in.
Not now, not ever.
I pull up to the bed-and-breakfast both physically and emotionally spent for the day. A trail of cars line the street, and the entire parking lot in front is clogged. God I hate this. I should barge in there myself and demand that those cretins leave. I can’t believe poor Cruise has to get a lawyer to chase the lowlifes away. It’s beyond ridiculous that anyone would think they could just move into someone else’s property and refuse to pay them. Some people believe they’re entitled to everything.
I squeeze the car down to the cabin and narrowly escape scraping it up against a fencepost on the right. I’d feel horrible damaging Aunt Jackie’s luxury car in any way. I shouldn’t have taken the risk.
I make a face as my nonwedding flashes before my eyes. I know I’m taking a lot of risks I shouldn’t be lately, like picking up knickknacks for an all-but-nonexistent wedding and further placing myself in debt that I’ll never be able to dig my way out of. Maybe I’m the one who feels entitled. Maybe Cruise should get a lawyer to evict the credit card from my purse. God knows it’s smoking from all the errant purchases I’ve made of late, i.e., the gently used Vera that I’m going to have to sell my liver to pay for. And if my own chaos wasn’t enough to set me on edge, the malfeasance caused by the Plague has really got my blood boiling.
I scoop up my backpack and burst into the cabin. The scent of grilled vegetables and steak enlivens my senses, and I spot Cruise hovering near the stove while a cloud of steam rises from the pan in front of him. He’s wearing his faded Levis and a plain white T-shirt, and his five-o’clock shadow gives him that late-night, scruffy look that’s so damn hot on his perfectly tan face. A half smile rides on his lips and he’s bedroom-eyeing me with a leer that suggests an array of unholy thoughts are running through his mind—and dear God, do Penny and I ever approve.
“You know what they say”—I go over and wrap my arms around him from behind—“there is not a damn thing sexier than a man in the kitchen.”
“Well then . . .” He spins in my arms and lands a kiss on my lips. “They haven’t met you. How was your day?”
“Weird. How was yours?” Quite frankly I’m not in the mood to discuss my father or his newfound desire to say he’s sorry.
“Ditto on the ‘weird.’” He brings the food to the table, and I follow him with plates and forks—all the while inspecting the way his rock-hard bottom looks in those blue jeans.
Cruise’s long, commalike dimples dig into his cheeks. “You ready for the world’s best fajitas?”
“Only if I can eat them off your body.” I’m not teasing. Cruise has washboard abs that I plan to sit on later tonight. I swear I can orgasm just using his body as a luge. “We can start now if you like.” I pat the table with the carnal invitation. Methinks the next chapter of Penny and Cruz’s adventures should be plated for the readers in an exceptional fashion.
Cruise proceeds to dole out a serving of his gourmet fare and literally ignores my proposition. I can’t for the life of me figure out why he has lost his erotic edge lately.
“So tell me . . .” I pick up my fork and stab at my food with no real desire to dive into Cruise’s exquisite cuisine. The old Cruise would have had me twelve different ways by now. “What was so weird about your day?”
“Well, I saw six attorneys and they all said the same thing. It could take up to three months to get them out if things move quickly, and they all want thousands of dollars to make this slow-moving miracle happen.”
My hand flies to my chest. “That’s terrible. Why is the law always on the side of the criminal?” Well, not always, but it is for sure in this case.
“I’m not worried. We’ll get through this.” Cruise pours me a glass of red wine and taps my glass with his before taking a sip. He’s always so positive and uplifting—it drives me wild in a get-in-my-bed sort of way.
“On another note”—he takes a bite of his meal—“I took Cal’s advice and drove to a few B and Bs in the area. I had a chance to speak to a couple of the managers to see what their thoughts on the business were.”
“Ooh. Covert ops. I kind of like you as a private dick.” I rub my foot over his leg, and he leans in and gives a little sexy growl. There’s my boy. “What did they say?”
“Oddly, they said they heard about a bed-and-breakfast in south Carrington that’s hosting private parties each night with a live band and DJ, and that it’s opening a whole new market to a younger generation.”
“Really? That sounds fantastic! Where is this place?”
“It is fantastic. It’s sheer genius.” His affect sharpens, no smile. “It’s us, Kenny. We’re the hippest, coolest B and B in town.”
“Oh my God!” I slam my hands on the table with glee. Then it hits me. We’re not actually capitalizing on the whole affair. “Oh . . . oh my God.” It comes out more of a desperate moan. “This sucks.”
“It does suck.” Cruise looks past my shoulder, despondent. “I’ve already depleted my bank account, and by next month I’ll have wrung out the final reserves in the line of credit I have as well. After that, we’re just moments away from a bank seizure.”
My mouth falls open. My appetite takes a nosedive. No matter how hard Cruise slaves away in the kitchen. I may never want to eat again. “That’s terrible.”
“It is terrible, considering they’ll take the cabin right along with it.”
I press my lips tightly together. I can’t believe this is happening to C
ruise—to us.
Tears start to come, and I blink them away.
“No, no, no.” Cruise’s eyes are wild with panic. “I swear to you, this will all work out. I was just venting. There’s no way I’ll let us be homeless on our wedding day. I’ve got a few surefire tricks up my sleeve. Once I evict these clowns, and I will, I’ll have us back in the swing of things. I’m not at all complaining about my life.” He reaches over and clasps both of my hands. “With you in it, Kenny, the best is yet to come.”
“You’re a prince among men, you know that?” I chew on my bottom lip until it feels like I’m going to bite right through. “I can’t help feel like I’m some bad luck bomb that went off the moment you met me. I’m the reason you got kicked out of Garrison.”
“I’m the reason I got kicked out of Garrison,” he’s quick to correct.
“We.” I smile sweetly at him.
“Nope.” Cruise smolders into me and my heart melts. “Just me. What’s new on the wedding front?”
“Absolutely zero. No venue, no dress, no reception, no photographer, no videographer, no cake, no reality TV show to document our efforts, and no stylist to make me look good weeks before the big day.” God that sounded horrific coming from my own more-than-slightly-entitled lips. I hate sounding like a spoiled brat. I’ve never been handed anything, so I’m not sure why the reality of having a simple wedding isn’t sinking in. Damn all those fantasies I bought over the years that sold me on the fairy tale of it all. Besides, who needs a fluffy white dress when I’ve got Cruise Elton waiting for me down the imaginary aisle at the courthouse?
His features soften. Now Cruise looks like he wants to cry and it’s all for me.
Just great—way to further deplete his mojo.
“Let’s solve some problems.” He gives my hand a tug. “I thought we were getting married at the chapel?”
“Blair Lancaster has the date marked as her own.” Just saying her name makes me feel as if I’m about to conjure her wickedness right into the room. “She reserved it years ago. I guess it was supposed to be your wedding date.” Even thinking about Cruise and Blair planning for their happily-ever-after makes my heart sink, heavy as an anchor.
Someone for Me Page 14
