by Anthology
Today already blows.
Kenadie—1. Rawn—0.
Chapter Seventeen
Kenadie
Shana has pizza, wine, and shots of tequila ready when I walk in the door. Her way of apologizing for last night/this morning I suppose.
“That pizza better have double cheese and green peppers.”
She flips the lid, revealing a gorgeous, piping hot pizza with my favorite toppings. Perfect.
She’s forgiven.
I drop my purse and down a shot before I change out of my skirt and blouse. It’s been that kind of day. Days. Week. Whatever. All I know is I need all the alcohol.
After slipping into a pair of fleece pajama pants and a tank top, I sit on the floor, my legs crossed under me, pizza box in my lap, and dig in. Shana grabs a slice and settles onto the couch at my shoulder.
We match every piece with a shot and in between, we down our wine like it’s water. I have big plans tonight and they all involve me getting white-girl wasted as quickly as possible. I need to drink enough to erase the last twenty-four hours from my mind.
Shana syncs her phone to the speakers and we dance around the living room like we’re teenagers again. No matter how terrible the day is, your best friend will always find a way to make the bad parts fade away. That’s why true friendship lasts forever. You and your best friend are part of each other. Her pain is yours. Yours, hers. And my best friend knows exactly how to put a smile back on my face.
Not that it’s all that hard. Pizza and alcohol. I’m a cheap date.
Shana stops mid-shimmy and grabs my arm. “We should go outside on the walkway. I can put the speaker in the window.” She says this like it’s the best idea in the world. And I’m just tipsy enough to match her enthusiasm.
“Okay,” I agree. “I’ll grab the wine.”
“I’ll grab the tequila,” she sings.
“No, I’m serious,” Sydney insists on a chuckle. “I would totally get with the dude in 1A.” She joined us not long after we moved our little party outside while she waits for Tiny Dick—I’m sorry, “her boyfriend,” to pick her up. Now all three of us are huddled in blankets, sipping the last remnants of wine bottle number three.
“He’s so old,” I breathe. “Like, really, really, old.”
She nods way too enthusiastically. “He’s seventy-six. I don’t know, I think he’s adorable. He’s so gray and chubby.”
“You’re a chubby chaser,” Shana supplies.
“Or a manther hunter,” I add.
Sydney raises her eyebrows dubiously. “What the hell is a manther?”
“The male version of a cougar.”
She shrugs, acknowledging the accuracy of my statement. This explains her current boyfriend. I’m guessing Sydney is a big part of his mid-life crisis. The ridiculous truck would be the rest of it.
“Okay, okay,” Shana utters, pushing the air with her palms. “What about the guy in 3C?”
I become hyper focused at the mention of my asshole neighbor.
“Rawn?” She shrugs again, this time in disinterest. “He’s cute, but I prefer his brother. I dig the whole hot-single-dad vibe.”
“His brother?” I ask, trying not to appear overly interested. Not that I am overly interested, which is why I make sure I don’t appear to be.
Shut up. I’m drunk.
“Yeah, Rhys? I’ve known him for years. We tend bar at the same pub. Well, not so much now since he started chemo. He misses quite a bit of work, but Rawn helps him out a lot. He assists with the bills, takes care of him and his niece, cooks, cleans. All while working a full-time job. I don’t know how he finds enough hours in a day. I’m surprised he even catches time to sleep.”
Shana and I exchange a look. One full of guilt. Like, so much shame it’s nearly palpable.
“He takes care of his brother who has cancer,” I murmur, needing the confirmation.
“Lymphoma, yeah. It’s really sad. His wife left when she found out he was sick. Rawn moved down here a few weeks later to help out. I actually told him about the vacancy here and he jumped on it.”
“And he takes care of his niece.”
Sydney smiles, tipping her head to the side. “She is so cute. Looks just like her daddy.”
Oh my God.
I’m such a horrible person.
I’ve been torturing a man who moved here for the sole purpose of caring for his sick brother and little niece. And I’ve interrupted his sleep so many times, which, from the sound of it, he doesn’t get a lot of. No wonder he’s always so crabby. I would be too.
I’m going to burn in Hell for all of eternity.
“What are you doing?” Shana calls after me as I drop the blanket and head inside our apartment.
“I don’t know. I just need…” I don’t finish my sentence because I have no idea what I need.
No. That’s not true.
I need to make this right. I owe Rawn a huge apology.
Rawn got home about thirty minutes ago. I know because I’ve been watching. Waiting. But as I was about to head over there, I realized I was dressed in my comfy jammies, looking like I just spent the evening getting sloshed. Which I did, but it’s not like I want to look like I did.
I lost the PJ pants and slipped a skirt on in their place, followed by a pair of my best heels. Brushed out my hair and dabbed some pink gloss on my lips. Now that I’m presentable, I toss back the last drop of wine and make my way over to Rawn’s door.
I knock super light, scared that he might have fallen asleep in the time it took me to get ready, and I really don’t want to be the cause of any more missed sleep. I will feel like dog shit about that for the rest of my life.
The door opens and…Oh. Holy…hell…Rawn O’Rourke is standing before me, fresh out of the shower, in nothing but a damp towel.
You know where this is going. That’s right. We’ve come full circle.
His dark hair is messy and dripping water on my Jimmy Choos. Check.
Tattoos—four of them. Check.
He makes that sexy growl noise in his throat, followed by a cocky smirk. Check and check.
My eyes continuously drift downward, skimming over his stomach and stopping on the towel clinging to him. Checkity check.
Oh, Lord. I am in so much trouble.
Chapter Eighteen
Rawn
“Is there something I can help you with?” I ask, my voice hoarse as I force the words out. Because what I would really like to help her with are her clothes. I’d like to slide them off, revealing her inch by inch.
Kenadie has one of those faces, the kind that’s unable to conceal her feelings. Open and honest, even when her words are contradicting. She trembles, goose bumps raising the hairs along her arms. And it isn’t anger she’s experiencing right now.
“I just…” she trails off, her eyes raking over my chest. She licks her lips and my cock twitches under my towel.
“You just…?” I encourage, fighting a grin.
“Came to say…”
If I’m not mistaken, I think my semi-nakedness is having a direct affect on her ability to speak. She keeps this up, I’m going to need her to stroke more than my ego.
“Yes?”
Her eyes fall shut and she slides her tongue over her lips again. Visions of her doing the same thing to my dick flash like fireworks in my head. Damn. One of us needs to snap out of this and quick before I do something stupid and start thinking with my southern head.
I do the one thing I know will spark her fury and shatter this lust-fueled trance we’re stuck in. I laugh at her like a total asshole.
“What is so funny?”
“You. You’re funny, Kenadie.”
Her eyes slit and her lips part. Rage flares in her gaze. Kenadie is pretty, but when she’s pissed, she’s downright ethereal in her beauty. She stiffens her shoulders and inches closer to me as if she’s on a mission. I’m not sure what that mission is, but I’m fairly positive it’s going to be sexy and painful at the same
damn time.
With her this close, I can smell the scent of her skin. Something feminine and sweet. It’s a feat not to reach for her. To keep my hands to myself. To hold back the desire to drag my mouth down her neck to see if she’s as sweet as she smells. To not sink my teeth into her and bite the pulse point that’s visibly pounding against her throat.
“I came here to—”
“Eye-fuck me? Mission accomplished,” I husk as I give in and let my fingers make contact. I brush her hair back and let my palm rest on her shoulder for just a moment. “Job well done.”
The unveiled shock on her face makes me smile. This girl. She can’t help but wear her emotions for all to see and I like that. Way more than I should.
I could give a shit about the money at this point, but grasping for something, anything to distract myself, I ask, “Do you have my money?”
“Oh…” she breathes. “Um, no. But…”
“Then why are you here? Other than to gawk at me?” That comes out much harsher than I intended, especially since I’m doing just as much staring, but if I feel bad about being a prick, it will at least keep me from thinking about shoving her up against the wall and…Fuck.
Need. More. Distraction. Think, Rawn, think.
“You have a lot of nerve after what you did to my car.” I could bend her over my knee and spank her ass for that one.
Shit.
No.
My shaft presses into the towel, really loving the idea of spanking her. I wonder what expression she’d wear when my hand struck that plump bottom of hers.
I bet it’d be something amazing. Lusty and livid.
“That wasn’t me,” she states defensively, dragging me from my dirty thoughts.
“Right. Somebody else graffitied my windows,” I shoot back.
Her mouth forms an O of surprise and I stagger over that for a second. Did she really think I wouldn’t know it was her? More importantly, is that the same shape her mouth makes when she orgasms? I need to know. And soon.
“Are you hard of hearing or just stupid?” I taunt. Because at this point, I’m done. I’m waving the white towel. Literally. My dick hasn’t stopped throbbing since she showed up at my door in another one of those tight-as-sin skirts. I’m going to push her buttons until she either punches me or kisses me.
“Excuse me?”
“I know I told you never to knock on my door again.” I’m glad as hell you didn’t listen. “Yet here you are.” Looking feisty and sexy, testing my limits. “So did you not hear me? Or are you just unable to follow simple instructions?” We can always work on that in the bedroom.
“I cannot believe I actually came over here to apologize to you. Forget it. I have no idea what I was thinking.”
“This is you apologizing?” That’s actually really funny. I never would have gotten that from our exchange so far. Not that I was giving her much of an opportunity…
Maybe I should just kiss her.
She laughs without humor, fresh anger brewing like a storm in her gaze. It’s frighteningly stunning. “Not anymore,” she spits.
As if in slow motion, I watch, shocked, as she grabs the end of my towel and jerks it from my body, leaving me stark-ass bare in my doorway while she polishes her shoes. I’m at half-mast and there’s no denying it.
She can’t claim it’s small now.
A sultry smile lifts her full lips as she deliberately checks out my package. Her mouth performs a little meh-not-bad motion before she turns to leave.
Oh hell no.
My fingers circle her tiny wrist, my thumb overlapping my other digits, and I wrench her right back around. Her hands crush against my chest, but she doesn’t push me away. If anything, she presses herself closer, unconcerned with my complete lack of clothing.
I open my mouth, ready to tell her exactly what I think about her, but then I decide to show her instead. I lean in and smash my mouth to hers. She parts her lips, giving me full access and I take it immediately.
She forms herself to my body. I contort myself so all of her best places line up with all of mine. She makes a sound, full of approval and I answer it with a moan of my own.
I pilot her into my apartment, kicking the door closed behind us. Though I’m not ashamed of my body in the least, I don’t think our neighbors need that kind of show.
My hands are tangled in her dark hair, my mouth working hers as if I need her lips, her tongue, her taste to live.
Maybe I do.
I haven’t felt this alive in months.
Kenadie has too many pieces of clothing on for my liking. I peel her shirt away, only breaking the kiss to slip it over her head. Her breasts are barely concealed in a lacy bra, but it’s still hindering the view, so I make quick work of that too.
On the same page as me, she reaches behind herself and yanks at the zipper on her skirt, causing the material to pool at our feet.
She really is beautiful, and the way she bites on my tongue when she kisses me makes me want to worship every inch of her.
I hook my hands under her ass and hoist her upward. Her legs circle my hips and she grinds herself against my rock hard shaft. I’m not kidding, I could pound nails with this thing. It’s been far too long.
“Rawn,” she whimpers against my neck, sending goose bumps over my skin and white-hot need through my body. That single, whimpered word catapults me into action, rushing us down the hall to my bedroom. Truman stares at us as we stumble onto the bed. I shove at him with one hand while the other cups Kenadie’s breast. Her nipple hardens under my palm and she arches her back, pressing her chest closer to me.
Fuck, that’s gorgeous.
Truman doesn’t take the hint, instead batting at my hand, and then Kenadie’s hair. I release a frustrated breath and give him another bump. He stretches out his front paws before slowly hopping from the bed with a thud and slinking past the door at a snail’s pace.
I’m going to pay for that move. I just know it. Probably in the form of a clawed couch or piss in my shoes.
Screw it. I don’t care.
Kenadie grasps my cock, pumping it softly, slowly, and I buck against her hand. I don’t know how I ever thought this was a bad idea. Right now, this feels like an amazing idea. One of the best I’ve ever had.
I can’t wait any longer. I fold my fingers into her panties and glide them down her legs and onto the floor. She’s gazing up at me with large round eyes full of lust. That look causes my dick to throb.
This is happening. It’s actually happening.
It takes me seconds to snatch a condom out of my drawer and roll it on. I move between her legs, spread wide just for me. All the notes, the fights, the vandalism—it was all just foreplay. Leading up to this. This moment.
She bites her lip as she wraps her fingers around me once again, but this time, she takes control, guiding me inside of her. Ah, shit. I can’t move for a moment, worried I’ll lose all restraint if I do.
“I’ve wanted this since the very first time you banged on my door,” I rasp.
She looks surprised, but then her expression softens, her lips forming a shy smile. “So am I forgiven for being a horrible neighbor?”
I begin to move, causing her to moan into my mouth. Christ. We should have done this weeks ago. Kenadie throws her head back, her hips coming up to meet mine, thrust for thrust. Fuck. Fuck. I bite down on her shoulder and her body quivers around mine.
“Yes,” I pant. “Tonight absolves us both.”
Chapter Nineteen
Kenadie
I wake up to a set of sharp claws digging into my stomach and a pounding in my head.
My eyes fly open to find an unfamiliar room and a cat’s butt resting on my chest, making it hard to breathe. I only know one person who owns a cat this fat.
I shift my head, surprised when I find nothing but a folded piece of paper on the empty pillow beside me.
My stomach rolls. No. No way he left me another mean note after we slept together. Granted, I wasn’t exactly
in the best frame of mind. Okay, I was drunk as a skunk. But he was clear-headed. Wasn’t he?
What if he wasn’t?
What if he woke up regretting what happened between us?
Do I regret it?
My muscles pull tight as I remember the night before. I might not have made the choices I did if I had been sober, but…No. I do not regret a single second.
With trembling fingers, I open the letter and press my lips together as I read.
Good morning, Princess,
Stay exactly where you are and DO NOT put your clothes back on. I have to run an errand for my brother, but then I’m coming back to you. I’m pretty sure there are a few spaces left on your body that I haven’t kissed yet and I need to rectify that.
Thoroughly Captivated,
Rawn
(AKA The Guy in 3C)
About the Author
Cheryl McIntyre is the author of the bestselling Sometimes Never series, as well as the Dirty series, Infinitely, Dark Calling, Villain, HARD, and Love Sex & Other Games. She resides in Ohio with her high school sweetheart, their two sons, one daughter, and fur son.
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