KIRKLAND: A Standalone Romance (Gray Wolf Security)

by Glenna Sinclair

  “Ash says I can work out of the office, helping David with background checks and things like that.”

  “You going to bring the baby to work?”

  “Maybe.”

  I shook my head. “Cop out.”

  She smacked my arm. “Wait until you hear the pitter patter of little feet.”

  “I’m never having kids.”

  “That’s what most men say.”

  I shook my head. “I wouldn’t be a good dad. Look at the example I had.”

  “I wouldn’t know. You don’t talk about your dad that much.”

  “That should tell you something.”

  Joss climbed down from the stool, sighing as she did. “One of these days,” she said, “you’re going to have to let someone in. You can’t carry the burden all by yourself.”

  And then she walked away, a little bit of a waddle to her walk already. I watched her go, making sure she got through the door alright, before focusing on the party again. Mabel was watching me, the blush on her cheeks bright enough for me to see from across the room.

  ***

  “That was absolutely humiliating! I can’t believe some people find that entertaining.”

  “Ricki seemed to be having a good time.”

  “Ricki was also very drunk.”

  “Maybe that’s what makes it entertaining. You should learn to drink.”

  She shook her head. “That’s one of the things I never really got the hang of after leaving home. Drinking is not something a good Mormon does. Every time I went to a party in college and someone put a drink in my hand, I remembered the teachings of the Mormon Church, and I just couldn’t do it. Plus, the taste…”

  She made a face, and I laughed.

  We’d stopped at an all-night diner on the way home because Mabel declared she was starving. I sat across from her and watched her devour a plate of pancakes after eating two eggs, bacon, and several pieces of toast. The woman could eat, but I couldn’t tell where it all went. She must burn it off with all the pacing she does.

  “Are you sorry you missed out on the bachelor party tonight?”

  “No. Ash was in charge, so it was probably the tamest bachelor party ever to take place in Los Angeles.”

  “I heard he flew them all up to Las Vegas.”

  “That’s the second trip to Vegas I’ve missed out on.”

  “What was the first?”

  “I was supposed to go with Donovan last year, but he was on a case and had to cancel.”

  “I heard it was such a raucous party that they ended up staying the night even though that wasn’t the original plan.”

  “Rub it in, rub it in,” I said, gesturing with my hands as if I was asking her to bring it on.

  She laughed.

  I leaned across the table and took her hands between mine. “I’m sorry you had to suffer that indignity.”

  She shrugged, her eyes never leaving mine. “It’s a rite of passage, isn’t it? I’m just embarrassed because that’s the most of seen of a live male…well, you know.”

  I nodded. “We should go. Tomorrow’s another long day.”

  “Let me go to the restroom, then we’ll go.”

  I watched her stand, then watched her walk across the diner, not just because I was supposed to be keeping her safe. I liked to watch her walk. She was wearing slacks tonight, big, black slacks that were made out of some noisy material that was reminiscent of the parachute pants my older brothers wore in the nineties. There were pockets all down the front of the pants that made them bulge in unnatural ways. And she was wearing a blue sweater with fuzz all over it, something that probably also came from the decades before either of our births. But it was beautiful because it was Mabel.

  I gestured to the waitress for the check, sneaking a peek at my phone to make sure no alarms had gone off while we were otherwise occupied. But everything was clear.

  “Tell me that’s your sister,” the waitress said, as she placed the check deliberately close to my hand.

  “No.”

  “Has anyone told you how much you look like a movie star?”

  I glanced at her. She was maybe a year or two older than I was, but she was wearing her uniform a little too tight, the top buttons undone a little too far down. And her hair clearly came out of a bottle when her natural color was probably more flattering to her skin tone.

  “Thank you,” I said politely.

  “What are you doing with an odd chic like that? Surely you could find someone better.”

  I looked her right in the eye and said, “No, I don’t think I could. They don’t come them any better than her.”

  I pulled a fifty out of my wallet and handed it to her. She stared at me for a second, then she half nodded. “Suit yourself.”

  I saw Mabel standing a few feet away when the waitress walked off. I went to her, made a show of sliding my arm around her shoulders, and drew her out of the diner.

  “Why did you say that?” she asked.

  “Because it’s the truth.”

  I helped her into the SUV, stepping back to hand her the seatbelt. Instead, she reached for me, touching my face before I could step away, and kissed me gently.

  “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me.”

  “Then you’ve been listening to the wrong people.” I caressed her face, too, my fingertips lingering against her bottom lip. “When are you going to start believing that you are brilliant? That you’re beautiful?”

  “Maybe if you keep telling me…”

  I slid my hand over those noisy pants, pulling her closer to me as I stood outside the SUV and she sat on the edge of the passenger seat. We kissed again, and I took my time in encouraging her to respond to me. Kissing her was like kissing my first girlfriend in junior high. There was this element of newness to it, this element of discovery. Knowing that it was all new to her made it feel new to me, and it was a feeling I loved.

  She opened to me without much encouragement this time, her sweet little tongue unsure where to put itself. It did something to me…to touch her and know that she’d never been touched like that before. The little sounds she made as we kissed made my nerves all wake up and stand on edge. My palms literally itched at the need to touch her, to feel her flesh under mine. As I kissed her, I slipped one hand under the back of her sweater and slid my fingers up the length of her spine. She stiffed a little, arching her back just enough to force me to follow her if I wanted to continue touching her. I tugged her closer to me, forcing her legs to make room for my body between them. She stiffened more, tension thrumming through her body.

  I pulled back just enough so that I could see her eyes.

  “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “I know.”

  She blushed, and I could see a million things dance through her eyes. She wanted this, but she was fighting a lifetime of religious teachings and parental disapproval and hypocrisy. I wanted to tell her it was okay, that she didn’t have to turn her back on all that in order to enjoy what her body was made to enjoy. But I didn’t know how to put that in words. I’d always spoken to a woman with touch, with my body, not my words.

  I slid both hands under her sweater and just held her against me for a long moment. Slowly I felt her begin to relax, a little bit at a time. This was going to be more complicated than I’d expected. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I wasn’t sure I was the one who should be in this position now. She needed someone who knew how to do and say all the right things. I didn’t know how to do that.

  I kissed the top of her head, her forehead. “We should go.”

  “Not yet,” she whispered. “Please, I just…”

  I lifted her chin and studied her eyes. I felt like a teenager, desperate to make out with the girl I was crushing on, but afraid we’d be late for curfew. It was stupid. I’d never cared about curfew when I was a teenager, but this sort of anxiety was building in my chest.

  “Mabel…”

  “Please?”

 
Somehow we found ourselves in the backseat of the SUV, snuggled together in the dim light of the nearby street lamp. Nothing happened at first. Just the snuggle. But then she pressed her hand to the front of my chest, her fingers playing with the space between the buttons. I ran my fingers over the outside of her arm, watching goosebumps rise on the bare flesh visible beneath her sweater’s three-quarter-length sleeves.

  She looked up at me, and we kissed, a gentle brushing of the lips. It was taking every ounce of self-control I had not to take control, to press her back against the seat and explore that beautiful body that was hidden under those unique clothes. I wanted to feel her nipple in my mouth; I wanted to taste the depths of her. I wanted…damn! Why was it that the simple thought of her hand on my bare skin could drive me wilder than taking some blonde stranger into my bed once did?

  I wanted her to touch me, but the hesitation in her movements was infuriating and more erotic than a stripper on a pole. She pressed her hand against my lower belly, and I swear my vision went dark for just a moment.

  I took her hand and lifted it to my chest, pressing it against my heart.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You’re driving me crazy.”

  She pulled back, wonder making her beautiful features even more beautiful.

  “I am? How?”

  I groaned. “You have no idea the power you have over me, do you?”

  “You…?” Her blush was back, and it made me want to laugh. She was so innocent that it was endearing, even while it was frustrating as all hell.

  “I want you. I want to touch you and taste you and lay with you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes.”

  She hid her face, burying it in my shoulder. I ran my fingers through her hair, drawing her back so that I could steal another kiss. And then it was my turn to bury my face. I kissed her neck, stole a little nibble here and there, and ran my tongue around the back of her ear before nibbling at her earlobe. She sighed, her sweet breath washing over me.

  “That feels so good.”

  “I’m going to make you feel good all over, darlin’,” I said, as I stole her lips again.

  She moved closer to me even as she opened to me, allowing me to explore places that had never been explored. Her fingers slid over my jaw, sliding down to the collar of my shirt, sliding down along the space created by the open buttons. The buttons were loose in their holes, sliding away with the slightest pressure of her hand. In less than a few seconds, her hand was pressed to my chest, my tiny, aching nipple pressed against the palm of her hand.

  I turned into her, tugging her hip, her thigh, until she was as close as the tight confines of the SUV could allow. I felt her move her hips just a little, instinctively seeking a little relief to the arousal that I could feel growing inside of her through her kiss, her touch. Her hand was shaking as it moved lower down my chest, seeking out something she wasn’t ready to tackle.

  I pulled her hand away again, tugging it up around my ribs so that she was stroking my back. But my own hands were refusing to behave quite that well. One hand rested on her ass, loving the feel of her small, rounded cheek, the other sliding under her sweater to find a perfectly round, sexy breast. She was wearing a silky bra, the sensation of all that softness just adding to my need. I held her breast in my hand and loved how hard my touch had made her thick, little nipple. When I kissed her neck again, she moaned softly. But when I started to lift her sweater, she pushed my hands away.

  “Not here,” she said.

  “No one can see us.”

  I dropped my hand to her thigh and tugged her close to me again. She pressed her face to my shoulder, a soft laugh slipping from between her lips.

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

  “This is just a sneak peek.”

  She looked up at me, completely serious now. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “I should be asking you that.”

  “I know I’m not your type.”

  I groaned, pressing my face against the top of her head. “I wish people would quit saying I have a type. I don’t have a type. I like women. I like the way they make me feel. Why is that such a bad thing?”

  “Do you like how I make you feel?”

  “Oh, Mabel, you have no idea.”

  She sat up and pulled her sweater over her head, discarding it on the floor of the SUV. I thought I would pass out for the sudden rush of blood away from my head. She was so beautiful! I’d seen a lot of beautiful women in my life, but the sight of her was just overwhelming. I needed a minute.

  When I didn’t touch her right away, she panicked. She started to pull away, but I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her onto my lap. Then I buried my face between those perfectly round, perfectly sized breasts, stealing a nibble here and there before I tugged away the silky material of her bra cup and drew her nipple into my mouth.

  She sighed, running her hand over the top of my head.

  “That’s amazing!”

  I bit back a chuckle, as I pulled her even closer, reaching behind her to undo the clasp on her bra. With her breasts free, I was able to do what I’d wanted to do since that morning she walked in on me in the shower, since I first saw her in the t-shirt and panties she wore to bed. I’d never realized how much self-control I had until that morning, until I wanted to toss her onto the bed and show her how good it could be, until I was able to control that impulse.

  I wasn’t sure how much longer I would be able to control it now that I’d gotten a little taste of it.

  I worked my way slowly down her body, down the length of her belly. I tugged at the front of her pants, looking for the snap that held them in place.

  “Kirkland,” she groaned, moving her hips back so that I couldn’t reach her.

  “Just a little touch,” I said softly.

  I slid my hand inside her pants, pushing it low over the matching silkiness of her panties. I kissed her neck as I ran my hand over her, pressing my hand tight against her lovely cunt. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled my face close to her, but she didn’t move—as though she was afraid the good feelings would stop if she did.

  I moved my hand back and forth for a moment, then pulled back enough to slip my fingers under the top band of her panties.

  “No,” she whispered, but she didn’t pull away, didn’t do anything to try to make me stop.

  I slipped my middle finger against her lips, parting the outer lips just enough to feel the moisture of her need against my fingertip. I felt her body stiffen a little, but I couldn’t make myself stop. I sought out the swollen tip of her clit, snagging it and rubbing it between my index and middle finger. She moaned, her body still stiff, but relaxing enough to allow just the slightest movement against my fingers, to show me instinctively exactly what it was she wanted.

  She’s said she didn’t know what an orgasm felt like. I wanted to show her, because this I could do. This I could give to her.

  I nibbled at her neck as I pressed my fingers harder against her clit. She moved ever so slightly, rocking against my hand. I lifted one breast, took her nipple into my mouth, and the double sensation of my fingers on her clit and my mouth tugging and pulling at her nipple broke the tension in her body. She began to rock harder against me, crying out when my finger slipped and slid inside her tight, unspoiled cunt. I groaned. It was all too good, too promising. My balls ached, and my cock was harder than it’d ever been before.

  I had to stop.

  I pulled my hand away, drawing a line of moisture along her lower belly as I did.

  She moved a little, waiting for me to come back. But I lifted her gently off my lap, stealing one more kiss before sliding away from her across the seat.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.” I caressed the side of her face before turning my attention to my shirt. “We should go. Tomorrow’s another long day.”

  “But we just…I just…”

  I pulled her close to my side,
holding her gently for a moment. “I’m sorry. I have to stop.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you don’t want to lose your virginity in the back of a car.”

  “Why not? Women have done it for generations.”

  I chuckled a little, the side of me that wanted so badly to forget that this had to be done in a gentle, caring sort of way cheering.

  “I don’t want you to lose your virginity in the back of a car.”

  She touched my thigh, careful not to place her hand too close to my swollen cock.

  “Could I do something…?”

  “No, baby.”

  “I want to make you feel good, Kirkland. You’re doing this thing for me, and I want to give you something, too.”

  I nodded, my thoughts suddenly swirling in a direction I didn’t want them to go. Was she only doing this because she thought my experience would make it easier? Was she really thinking about someone else when I touched her? Did she just want to get past this speed bump before moving on to the man she really wanted?

  I wouldn’t blame her, really. I wasn’t relationship material. I had nothing to offer her.

  But why did that idea bother me so much?

  I untangled myself from her.

  “Get dressed. We need to go.”

  Chapter 18

  Mabel

  I stood at the back of the church, watching the priest explain things to Ricki and David. I’d never realized before just how complicated it was to get married. I thought, you walk down the aisle, you say your vows, and then you walk away. It was a little more complicated in the Church of the Latter Day Saints, but I thought those complications were restricted to my parents’ complicated religion.

  I guess not.

  Kirkland was standing a little ways away from everyone else, leaning against the front of the pew with his ankles crossed and his hands in his pockets. He’d been quiet most of the day, only speaking to me when he had to. He spent a lot of time walking around the building, making sure the coast was clear before we headed out tonight. I was spending the night at the hotel where the reception was being held because Ricki wanted me with her to keep the wedding jitters at bay, so we wouldn’t be back to the apartment until Monday. I guessed that Kirkland wanted to make sure there was no danger in us being followed.