by ANDREA SMITH
“Would you like for me to go in and explain to your grandparents what happened last night, and that you were safe with me? I hadn’t thought about calling them earlier. I probably should have.”
“I. Don’t. Think. So,” I snapped, unbuckling my seat belt and opening the door to the truck. “Jesus Christ, Taz, I’m not a freaking child.”
I jumped down from the cab of his truck. It would’ve been a great exit had the strap of my purse not gotten caught around the gear shift on the center console.
Crap.
“Hold up,” he said, smirking.
He lifted my purse strap up and over the gear shift and picked it up, getting out of the truck to come around to my side and hand it to me. I grabbed it from him, turning to head up to the house.
“Thanks for the lift,” I called back to him.
“Whoa, wait a minute,” he said, calling after me.
I felt his hand on my shoulder, gently pulling me back so that I would stop.
“Lindsey, what the hell? I didn’t mean to insult you, sweetheart. I know you’re not a child. I just wasn’t sure if you’d catch shit from your grandparents. You know how old people can be.”
“Unfortunately, I’m finding out,” I said, with a smirk of my own. “I’m almost twenty-one. When my mother was twenty-one, she was raising a four-year-old. Would you’ve treated her like that?”
“So, what’s your point?”
I actually had no clue as to what the point of that was. I just knew that he needed to put it into perspective. I may not be the mother of a four-year-old, but by God, I wasn’t a child either.
“I guess I would just prefer that you recognize that I’m a woman,” I replied simply. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I know that I should’ve behaved more maturely at the reception.”
He was studying me now with those gorgeous, green bedroom eyes of his. His lash line was so dark, his eyes looked as if they had mascara on them. I knew that they didn’t. He simply had eyelashes that any woman would die for…eyelashes undeserving of a man.
I wasn’t sure what prompted me to do what I did next. I didn’t stop to think about it, or to debate it before I did it. I walked closer to him and stood on my tip-toes. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his head down towards my face.
My lips found his and I kissed him. I prayed he wouldn’t pull back. He didn’t pull back. He stood there for a moment statuesque-like.
I worked harder. I might still be a virgin, but by God, I’d learned some things along the way. Kissing was one of them. I’d been told by a few guys that I was a great kisser. We would see.
I moved my lips on his, my tongue lightly traced his bottom one. His lips started responding to mine, first slowly, then very sensually. I parted my lips and his tongue found mine. He pulled me in closer now, planting his fingers into my short, spiky hair.
Our kiss grew more arduous. I lowered my hands to his muscular back, digging my long fingernails into him. I felt his hardness against me.
Dear Lord.
I moaned softly with the realization that yes, this man was affected by me and I was totally affected by him.
“Mmm,” he moaned, finally pulling away from me. “Lindsey, I don’t think this is a good—”
I gave him a sparkling smile as I threw my purse over my shoulder. “Thanks again for the lift, Trace.”
My eyes lowered to his very stiff hard-on, then flickered upward to his face. I gave him a wink then turned towards the house. I traipsed up the sidewalk to the front door, trying to make sure his too-large sweats didn’t fall to my ankles while I wore the only shoes I had: my four-inch heels from the wedding.
I could feel his gaze burning a hole through my backside.
Mission accomplished.
chapter 3
~ TAZ ~
Jesus Christ! What the hell was that? The whole way back to my place, I tried like hell to push the vision, the feel, and the scent of Lindsey from my mind. My hard-on was making that very difficult to accomplish. What had she been thinking coming on to me like that right there in the front yard of her home?
Shit!
Her grandparents had probably been watching out the window. They probably thought she’d spent the night with me. Technically, she had, but not in the way that their dirty minds would be playing it. Hell, they were probably grilling her right now about it.
Then there was the matter of Slate. He was like a brother to me, but I knew damn well he wouldn’t appreciate me so much as thinking the wrong thoughts where Lindsey was concerned. He was taking this whole step-parent thing very seriously.
I thought back to the previous night when I had to strip her naked to get her into the shower and clean her up. I was thankful in her drunken state she hadn’t seen just how hard my cock had been for her then.
I imagined she was getting plenty of that college-cock, considering the way she looked. Perky little ass, nice full tits, her pussy shaved except for a narrow little landing strip. I knew what I’d wanted to land there last night. I thought about my tongue tracing that strip and then going into a full dive.
Get your shit together, Taz, my inner voice said. Despite the difference in age, she’s not your type of chick.
She eventually would settle down with a nine-to-fiver that left for work in an Armani suit every morning, played golf on weekends at the club, and gave her suburban sex two to three nights a week.
I chuckled out loud as I pulled my truck into the garage at home. Little Miss Co-ed would definitely not be into the type of play that I enjoyed. Not one little bit. Still, it might be fun to have a tussle with her just once to teach her a lesson about randomly kissing a dude she knows nothing about.
I needed to brush all thoughts of sweet, sexy little Lindsey from my mind. I had three chapters to study this afternoon for a major exam tomorrow night at school. I hadn’t cracked a book in several days. It wasn’t like me to backburner my studies. They were important. They were going to get me where I wanted to be within the agency.
As I came around the side of the house from the backyard to the front porch, I suddenly realized I wouldn’t be cracking that book for at least a couple of hours.
“Hey, Taz,” Roxie greeted me, perched up on the railing of the porch seductively. “I was beginning to think you’d never get home. Rough night?”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle, babe,” I said, giving her a smile.
Perfect timing.
I’d been fighting off this hard-on since Lindsey kissed me and pressed that sexy little body of hers up against me. I unlocked the door, and Roxie followed me inside.
She was the perfect chick for me. There was nothing high maintenance about Roxie. She worked as a nail technician at the mall. She loved sex—every kind of sex. She didn’t whine about where “this or that” was going, or when I was going to call next. We just took it as it came.
Roxie was a few years older than me. She was probably around the same age as Slate. I’d known her since right before I graduated from the academy in Quantico, which was five years ago. We’d met at a night club called “Run Amuck” in Quantico. Roxie had a thing for “G-Men” as she called us.
Slate had done her first. Naturally, all the chicks gravitated to Slate with his dark, rugged looks. They liked his swagger is how Roxie explained it to me.
After that, Slate wanted no part of her. He claimed that she fucking “howled” like a coyote when she came, and it drove him nuts. I had no particular problem with that, being as vocal as I tend to be. In fact, I kind of like novelty shit like that.
I met up with her a couple of weeks after that at the club. We drank, danced a bit and then headed to her place. I typically don’t like chicks knowing where I crash until I’m certain they aren’t bona fide sociopaths. I’ve had my share of run-ins with crazy bitches that like to stalk.
Roxie and I’d pulled a pretty interesting all-nighter at her place. The howling wasn’t enough to turn
me off. I liked the assortment of toys she liked to bring to the bed. I made damn sure none of them went into me, though. I don’t take those kinds of risks with my health.
Roxie loved the fact that my cock had never been circumcised. She said it had a more threatening look to it that way. She sure as shit knew how to suck it. And to swallow? (For me, there’s nothing sexier than a chick who’ll swig my cum. Especially if she makes no boners about enjoying it.)
I looked at her now, taking her jacket off and tossing it on the chair in the living room. She wasn’t half as sexy as Lindsey, but she’d do.
“Ready?” I asked as I kicked my shoes off onto the living room floor.
She nodded and followed behind me to my bedroom. I hadn’t bothered to make up my bed yet. The sheets, blankets and bedspread were still all tangled in knots from my restless night. I hadn’t been able to get the vision of Lindsey out of my mind after I’d tucked her safely away in the guest room.
I must’ve debated for an hour as to whether I should creep in to where she was sleeping to check on her. Hell, I knew if I did that I would’ve been hard pressed to leave it at that. I would’ve been tempted to crawl under the sheets with her and fuck her harder than those college dicks could or would.
I was pulling my T-shirt up over my head. “Did you bring your toys?” I asked Roxie.
“Of course,” she said, giving me one of her naughty little smiles. “You know I don’t leave home without them.”
“Let’s get to it then,” I said smiling, pulling Roxie over to stand before me next to the bed. I was going to get this blasted hard-on relieved one way or another.
“There’s one thing you need to know, babe,” I said, as she was slipping out of her tight jeans. She stood there, tall and slender with coal black hair that fell to her waist, looking at me.
“What is it, Taz?”
“I’m going to fuck you. Hard. But I’ll be thinking about someone else when I do. That a problem?”
She shrugged and nodded. I knew she’d be okay with it. I felt she needed to be forewarned though, since I get pretty vocal when I’m fucking a chick. She finished unpacking her leather satchel of toys we used, while I pulled several condom packets out of my nightstand drawer.
Oh yeah. My studies were definitely going to be temporarily delayed this afternoon.
chapter 4
I’d just finished classes for the afternoon and was on my way back to the apartment I shared with two other students when my cell phone rang. It was Mom.
She and Slate had returned from their cruise about a week ago. She’d phoned me right away, telling me how exciting it had been to see all of those Caribbean islands. She followed up by emailing me about a zillion pictures of her trip.
“Hi, Mom,” I answered on my headset.
“Hey, Lindsey, just checking to make sure that you’re still going to be here tomorrow evening, as planned.”
“Yep,” I answered. “I’ll hit the road right after my last class.”
“Great,” she said.
I could almost feel her smiling from the other end. “Your grandparents are traveling to Florida, so they won’t be here with us this Thanksgiving. It will just be the four of us.”
“What about Slate’s mom?”
“No, Katy can’t get away again, what with spending that week here before the wedding. She doesn’t have too many people she can totally depend on to take care of the restaurant.”
“I promise I’ll be there by four o’clock to start helping you with the preparations. I know how crazy you get when you cook for the holidays.”
“Thanks honey. I appreciate it. Bryce is just at that ‘into everything’ stage, so I can surely use your help. Oh, and I think Eric is going to ask Taz to join us for Thanksgiving dinner, so I guess that makes five of us.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Taz’s family lives out in California somewhere, so he doesn’t get back there often. You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”
“No. Why would you ask that?”
“Well, I know he can be a little rough around the edges, I just wasn’t sure if that would make you uncomfortable.”
“Not at all,” I lied. “Besides that, I’m kind of used to that with Slate.”
“Hey,” she said, laughing, “oh, never mind. I guess you’ve got a point. Listen, I needed to ask if you’ve—”
“No,” I replied, cutting her off, “I haven’t heard a thing from Daddy. You know that I’d tell you if I had, right?”
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I know I continue to ask that question. I guess I’m not totally at ease about all of that, even now. I just wish we knew for sure that we were free of it all.”
The subject of my father was still a very painful one for me. Aside from the brief letter he’d commissioned someone to mail for him after he left the country, there had been nothing. I never would have dreamed he could’ve deserted me that way, without a second thought.
“Hey, I’m pulling into the parking garage at my apartment, so I’m going to lose the signal. I’ll see you late tomorrow afternoon.”
“Okay. Drive carefully.”
I let myself into the apartment.
Darcy was already home, sprawled out on the sofa, getting her daily fix of the Jerry Springer show with a bag of Cheetos resting on her firm, flat belly.
“Hey, Darce,” I greeted, kicking the door to the apartment shut behind me.
My arms were loaded down with my books. The strap on my backpack had broken earlier in the day.
“Hey Linds,” she answered, muting the television. “What the hell happened to your backpack?”
“Strap broke due to heavy load. I bring my textbooks home.”
“Oh, don’t start with me,” she laughed, tossing a Cheeto at me. “Just cause you’ve got that ‘studious’ thing going on 24/7 doesn’t mean the rest of us have to. My backpack is four years old and looks brand new.”
“My point exactly,” I replied, dumping my books on the kitchen table. “Is Jill home?”
“Been here and gone,” she replied from the living room. “I think she went somewhere with Gabe.”
Gabe was Jill’s boyfriend in Charlottesville. She actually had what she referred to as her “real boyfriend” back in her hometown of Seattle.
Jill figured being at opposite sides of the country justified having Gabe while she was on the east coast. The problem was, it appeared as if Jill actually loved them both. That was her triangle to figure out, I guess.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Darcy yelled from the living room. “You’re thinking she’s going to get burned by burning the candle at both ends.”
“No, smarty,” I hollered back, going to the fridge for bottled water, “I’ve decided I don’t judge what people do anymore.”
“Really?” she asked, poking her head into the kitchen. “Why the change in philosophy, may I ask?”
“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “I guess the only reason I voiced an opinion on the matter was because someone’s bound to get hurt eventually.”
“And now you don’t believe that?”
“Oh, I absolutely believe that,” I replied. “But I guess one could argue that who goes through life without getting hurt at one time or another? I mean, she’s having the time of her life, right? Maybe at the end of the day, it’ll have all been worth it. Maybe I should be so lucky.”
“Oh shit, there you go. There are so many fucking guys that want to take you out. Your problem is you’re too picky.”
“I just seem to pick the wrong ones,” I said.
“Hey, not to change the subject, but I’m going to Falls Church tomorrow for the holiday weekend. What are your plans?”
Darcy came from a fairly affluent family in Georgetown. Since she was an only child, her parents fell all over themselves to make sure she wanted for nothing.
She was my best friend since coming to Virginia. I knew we’d always be frien
ds, even after college.
“Actually, I’m going home too. I’m skipping my classes tomorrow and leaving when I get up.”
I rolled my eyes at her, shaking my head with a smile.
“Don’t judge me,” she replied grinning. “I’m passing everything.”
“Barely,” I said, laughing. “So, I guess we won’t be driving up together.”
“No, but hey, let’s get together Friday night and go clubbing. Sound good?”
“Yeah, I’m up for that. I just need to make sure I still have my fake I.D.”
Darcy had turned twenty-one in September. She’d put me in contact with one of her male friends who had made an extremely authentic looking fake student I.D. for me.
“Okay, then,” she said, heading back out to the living room to watch the rest of Springer, “I’ll call you Friday to make plans.”
I got through my classes the following day then headed to Falls Church.
I’d packed the night before and loaded my car so that I could leave directly from school. Jill was going to spend Thanksgiving with Gabe in Atlanta. Darcy had left this morning, texting me that she was on the road and would call me Friday.
I made good time and pulled into the driveway before 5:00 p.m.
Slate was right there, as always, being the perfect step-father, hauling my suitcase into the house and upstairs to my room.
Mom was in the kitchen, feeding Bryce some sort of baby food from a jar. Most of it appeared to be smeared on his cheeks. He immediately brightened into a big smile when I came into the room.
“Hi sweetie,” Mom greeted, getting up to give me a hug and kiss. “You look great.”
“You too, Mom. I can’t believe how long your hair’s getting.”
She smiled sheepishly, fingering through her below-the-shoulder length locks.
“Eric forbade me to cut it,” she replied. “He wants it as long as it was when I wore that wig. Do you believe it?”
“Yes,” I said. “That’s Slate.”
