by Marie James
I almost say ‘anytime’ like my manners and the etiquette classes my grandmother made me take say I’m supposed to, but I don’t. I wouldn’t mean it, and I pride myself on telling the truth.
Most of the time I tell the truth, but if Kegan asked me what I thought of him, or if I wanted to run the tips of my fingers down the light scruff on his chin, I would tell him no. That would be a lie. Getting my hands on him even though I know he’ll crush me is all I can think about.
“No problem,” I say quietly. “They’re great girls,” I say, continuing the conversation since he was the one to break the silence.
“When you’re around,” he says with a grin.
He can deny it all he wants, but I saw the way his face lit up when Anastyn climbed into his lap. He loves those girls. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t drop everything in the world to help with them when Kadin and London needed it, even though he’s terrified of them.
“Your parents seem nice,” I say.
He groans. “I’m sorry you had to see that. They usually leave the grab-ass out of the eyes of nonfamily members.”
I can’t help but laugh at his discomfort.
“It’s nice to see an older couple clearly in love. You’re very blessed to have parents that love you enough to get weird when you show up with a girl.” I turn my head back to the window, even though there’s really nothing to see.
“They’re great,” he agrees reluctantly. “What about your parents?”
I never should’ve even mentioned his family.
“They’re dead,” I say without an inflection of emotion.
“Damn, Lexi. I’m so sorry,” he begins.
I hold my hand up to stop him from speaking. “I’ve been without parents a long time.”
“Sorry,” he says again.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see him reach his hand across looking for mine to offer comfort, but I keep my hands wrapped around one another in my lap. He eventually pulls his hand back.
“Me too,” I whisper.
The last thing I want to think about, ever, is the family I’ve lost and the one I never really had.
The rest of the drive is much like the first half, silent.
I climb out of his truck quickly when he pulls up in front of my house. He’s crunching up the gravel driveway behind me, so I pause on the front porch. There’s no way I’ll be able to resist him if he manages to get me inside the house. I hold my keys in my hand, but don’t move to insert them into the lock.
“Lexi,” he says, his breath rushing over my shoulder. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I shake my head, trying to let him know it wasn’t him.
He turns me to face him, and I watch as his eyes dart back and forth between mine.
“You didn’t. Promise,” I tell him.
I know what he’s planning to do when his tongue reaches out and wets his lips. Hell, I knew what was going to happen the second I stepped out of the truck, and he followed.
So what do I do? I do what any warm-blooded woman would do standing in front of Kegan Cole as he leans in closer to their mouth; I close my eyes and wait for his lips to meet mine. I wait for the forcefulness that I’ve pictured more than once to strike my mouth, but it never comes.
First, I feel his warm, comforting hand cup my cheek. Next, his warm breath is ghosting across my lips, sending waves of goosebumps and a foreign tingle down my spine. Then I feel his firm, yet incredibly soft, lips brush against mine.
Soft and gentle. That is not Kegan Cole. He’s abrasive and forward on his best day. This is pity. This is him feeling sorry that I didn’t have parents, and he had two great ones. The last thing I need from Kegan Cole is fucking pity.
I push at his shoulders, breaking his delicate contact with my lips.
I try to step back, but he has one hand on my lower back and one gripping my ass. I was so engrossed with how his mouth was going to feel on mine, I was oblivious to where his hands were roaming. Now that they are there, I feel the same burn in his touch that I felt at the movie theater when his fingers brushed the skin on my back.
“Don’t,” I say with less force than I was aiming for. I want to be angry. I want him to know I’m mad, pissed that he’s feeling sorry for me. I hate when people treat me like that. “I don’t need your pity.”
His hooded eyes open wider. “Pity? Lexi, there is nothing pitiful about you.”
He flexes his arms and crushes me against his body. His mouth hits mine once again, but this time, he kisses me like I’d expect him to.
Giving me no time to stand my ground, his tongue is inside my mouth a second later.
Jesus, what a glorious muscle.
The same hands that were used to push him away are now clutching at him, trying to draw him closer. Heavy breathing and my own whimpers are the only sounds surrounding us as I feel his fingers flex and dig deeper into my ass.
I’m no angel by any stretch of the imagination; my college days were pretty crazy, but I’ve never been kissed like this. I was going about it all wrong, picking men the same age as me. There has to be at least a five-year age difference between us. Even though many wouldn’t consider a thirty-year-old man an actual ‘older man,’ especially compared to me at twenty-five, but I’ll be damned if that age gap doesn’t make up for the difference.
There isn’t any fumbling and bumbling. I’m not being pawed at and groped. The only other man who’s had skilled, sure arms around me was Hunter. The thought sobers me immediately.
I push at his chest until he breaks free from my mouth.
“We can’t do this,” I say trying to catch my breath.
“Of course we can,” Kegan says grinding his hips against mine. There’s no way to ignore exactly where his mind is right now.
“We can’t. I told you in the park. I’ll lose my job. Plus, I’m not available,” I lie.
I take a step back from him and wrap my arms around myself protectively.
I watch his tongue as it snakes out and licks my taste from his lips.
His eyes narrow momentarily at my admission; then they spark back to life. “We can keep it a secret,” he offers.
Whatever fire he has been stoking the last week or so has just been completely drenched, and that is not a reference to my damp panties. I mean doused with water, no spark left. His mouth just ruined the moment we were having; the one I was fighting against.
“I’m nobody’s secret,” I tell him with my head held high.
“That’s not…”
I cut him off. “The last guy that wanted me to be a secret ruined me.”
He frowns at me, but I’m not sure which part is causing him the most concern: my admission of being hurt before or the fact that his dick is hard, and he’s finally realizing I’m not going to be the one to take care of it for him.
“Please leave,” I say sliding my key into the lock.
“Lexi,” he says quietly as I push open my front door.
“Goodbye, Kegan,” I say with resolve and close the door behind me.
His steps don’t even falter as he walks off my porch. There was no hesitation when he quickly made his way to his truck, cranked it, and backed out of my driveway. Even though that was exactly how I expected him to act, I’d hoped he’d say something, knock on the door and try to explain that he isn’t that type of guy. He’d be lying of course, but it would be nice to hear.
I flip the deadbolt in place and make my way up to my room without turning on a light in the house. It’s still fairly early in the evening, but I don’t feel like going through my usual routine for a Sunday night. I set my alarm on my phone for an hour earlier than usual, kick off my shoes, and fall into my bed.
I try to clear my mind as I close my eyes, but I can still feel his lips on mine. After a wasted hour, I convince myself I’ll be able to deal with everything better tomorrow, and I fall into a restless sleep.
Chapter 11
Kegan
Just sex isn’t worth the risk.
I’m nobody’s secret.
I’m not available.
What the fuck am I doing?
I suggest, even after she tells me she’s with someone that we still hook up in secret? I’ve lost my damn mind apparently. Married, or taken women for that matter, are a strict, hard limit for me.
I slam the heel of my hand against the steering wheel. That makes three times now that she’s set off alarm bells in my brain. She’s not a quick fuck, good time type of girl, yet I can’t manage to stay away from her. She has relationship written all over her, which I guess is true since she just admitted to being in one.
Who am I kidding? No, she doesn’t. She practically screams: I’m single and have no plans to change it, so leave me the hell alone; a contradiction to what she just told me.
I didn’t imagine things; she kissed me back when my lips landed on hers. She’s as into me as I am her, but something is holding her back.
I’m clearly struggling with the answer no. As the youngest in my family, I didn’t hear it much growing up. I don’t hear it much now. At work I’m the boss; in my personal life, I have too many women fighting over me. So what is it about Lexi Carter that makes me want to pursue a woman for the first time in as long as I can remember?
I don’t even want to think about her any longer. No woman is worth the type of fight and energy required it is taking to bed Lexi, especially if she has something going on with someone else.
I pull into the first parking lot I come across.
My guard is down, that’s all it is. It’s been what, two days since I got laid?
I rest my head against the headrest and do the math.
The last time…
Kadin called me the next day because he needed help with the girls. That’s the day I met Lexi at her school. Thursday. So that little blonde chick was Wednesday night. Today makes day number four. Well, that just isn’t going to work.
I lift my hips and pull my cell phone from my pocket. I hate nothing more than being forced to call up one of the women in my phone, but this is practically an emergency, and I don’t feel like going fishing at the bar.
I scroll through my contacts, and absolutely no one seems like a good idea. For a split second, I actually contemplate just going home and not worrying about it, but the slow throb and deep ache in my balls won’t let it go. I’ve been stiff in my jeans off and on for hours today around Lexi, and that kind of torture is enough to drive any man insane.
I make it to the bottom of my contacts and scroll in reverse order. If anyone saw my contact list, they’d know for a fact that I’m a complete asshole. Most of the contacts don’t even have legit names but rather nicknames. How do I keep them straight? I make sure I have a picture of them with their contact info, so when I ‘search’ I’m looking at their faces rather than their names, because I’d never be able to keep that shit straight.
Unfortunately, any of the women with long brown hair are automatically excluded from tonight’s search, since it will only remind me of the woman who just slammed her door in my face, and I don’t need that shit in my head ruining my evening.
‘Ginger’ will do just fine. I press call on my phone and listen to it ring through the sound system in my truck.
“Kegan,” she breathes into the phone.
“Hey, doll,” I say using a lower, sexier register of my voice. “You have plans this evening?”
I hear the beginning of a squeal before she fully covers up the mouthpiece on the phone. I smile and nod. That’s how a woman is supposed to act when I offer to spend some time with them. Lexi should take notes from this extremely excited woman.
A long moment later there’s an audible shuffle and then her breathing back on the line. “I had some stuff going on, but I can rearrange. You want to come over?”
“Nice of you to ask, doll. Text your address to me,” I tell her.
“You’ve been here twice, Kegan. You still can’t remember?” she complains softly into the phone.
I want to tell her that I don’t even remember her actual name, but that won’t lead to the conclusion I need for the evening.
“I get turned around, doll.” It’s a damn lie of course. I was an Eagle Scout, but that doesn’t get me any closer to remembering where this chick lives.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll text it to you,” she coos into the phone.
“Thanks, doll. See you soon.”
We hang up, and I wait until the text comes in.
Fuck. It’s all the way across town. I should start saving these women in my phone by geographical location; it sure would make things a lot easier.
Half an hour later I’m pulling into the subterranean parking garage of “Ginger’s” building. I don’t know what the girl does for a living, but she definitely has some money to live in a place like this.
I finger comb my disheveled hair in the mirrored wall of the elevator on my way to the tenth floor. I haven’t even made my way to her door yet, and I’m already bored with the idea of how the next hour or so will go.
I step off the elevator, and just as I’m about to climb back on it and go home, her door opens. She must’ve been watching through the peephole waiting for me. Whatever boredom was seeping into my veins dissipates when my eyes find her standing in her doorway in the skimpiest negligee I can ever remember seeing. She might as well be naked with how little the silk and lace covers.
“Hey there,” she says seductively.
My dick listens and pulses in my jeans.
“Hey,” I say walking directly into her.
A second later her legs are wrapped around me, and her mouth is against my neck. I kick the door closed with my foot and carry her to the couch. I know I’ve been to her place before because it looks vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t tell you where her room is. It’s not a problem since I don’t need a bed for what I plan to do to her.
As I inch her closer to the couch, she slides down my body. Her hands immediately find my zipper; she’s on her knees a second later, and less than a breath after that, I’m halfway down her throat.
This is the kind of attention I deserve. Chasing after women is not something I do, so why do I still close my eyes and see waves of dark brown hair and bright green eyes staring back up at me?
“Thanks, doll,” I say slapping this woman on her ass as she tries to stand from where I have her bent over the arm of her leather sofa. I quickly dispose of the condom and tuck myself back into my pants.
She moans like a whore after my hand makes contact. Now I remember why she’s stayed in my contact list. Even though she just came on my dick, twice, she’s ready for anything I’ll give her.
“You want me to make you something to eat?” she asks twirling her fiery red hair around her finger. “I have another hour before my next client gets here.”
“Client?” I say walking toward the door. “Are you a hair stylist or something?” It’s late on a Sunday evening. Who does hair that late?
She giggles even though I didn’t say anything funny.
“I don’t do hair,” she says quickly. “I fuck.”
I stop in my tracks and turn back to look at her. “Excuse me?”
“I’m an escort,” she replies.
I’m the one laughing now because there’s no way I heard her correctly.
“Like dates and social functions?”
She shrugs. “Sometimes, but mostly I just fuck.”
“For money?” I’m not one to judge but I’ve never paid for sex, and I’m not fixing to start now.
“Don’t worry,” she coos sliding up against my body. “I’ll always fuck you for free.”
I shake my head to clear it. I remember thinking she sucked dick like a professional, but it was a fleeting thought.
“Wow,” I say. I mean, what else do you say in a moment like this?
As I make my way out of her apartment, with a noncommittal agreement to see her again soon, I step back on the elevator. I don’t even know what to think in a moment
like this. My brain tells me to stay far away; the last thing I need to be linked to is a paid call girl, but my dick loves how experienced and experimental she is.
I side with my brain, which doesn’t happen often and delete her from my contact list and block her number for good measure. Kadin is going to get a kick out of this shit. On better thought, I won’t even tell him. It’s too much ammunition for him to bring up in later conversations, and it’s not like he doesn’t already have enough.
I head home to shower. I’ve slept with some pretty questionable women, but, for some reason, walking back to my truck with the new information I’ve just been given makes me feel dirtier than I’ve ever felt before.
I get the appeal of a paid companion, don’t get me wrong. Quick, easy, a sure thing. In most cases, I’m sure it’s a very discrete way to conduct sexual business, but it’s not for me. I guess I know now how she affords to live in such a nice place.
Chapter 12
Lexi
Most people struggle with getting it together for Monday morning, but I know for me Friday is the most exhausting day of the week. Most Fridays I have to force myself to stay active when all I want to do is put on my pajamas and fall asleep in front of the TV.
This week has been even more exhausting since I’m leaving earlier in the morning and staying away until well after dark to ensure that I don’t run into Kegan. I’ve been successful all week and avoided any form of contact with Kegan Cole. I wish I could say I felt good about the week with no sightings, but some evenings I feel like I miss him. Those evenings are the ones where an extra glass of wine helps.
I don’t get to stay away from home today, however. Jillian, Justin, Hawke, and I get together once a month to hang out and share a meal. I’m hosting this evening, so as much as I want just to fall into bed, I can’t.
I also don’t have time to cook, so the local deli will be catering our meal this evening, and by catering I mean I called in an order of a ridiculous amount of food and picked it up on my way home from school.
I groan when I pull into my driveway and see that Kegan’s truck is at the worksite next door. I pray he stays away for my sanity.
