My Kinda Kisses

by Lacey Black

  “Grandma, please don’t finish that sentence,” Jaime begs, her face as red as a cherry.

  “Anyway,” Emma starts, clearing her throat. “My point is that sometimes you just have urges. Impulses that need to be fulfilled right then and there or you risk permanent damage to your special parts.”

  “Oh, God,” Jaime groans.

  “It’s okay, kids. All we’re saying is that we get it. We understand,” Orval adds before winking at me and leaning towards me. “I used to tell Emmy that my pecker would fall off if we didn’t get it out and play with it at least twice a day.”

  “The good news, kids, is that Mr. Gerard isn’t pressing charges on the trespassing, and I talked with that sweet Barney kid about letting the whole free-roaming willy thing slide. I might have mentioned that I would tell his grandma about seeing him come out of the Gas N Go with a Penthouse magazine and a bottle of vanilla scented lotion.”

  “Wait, the Gas N Go has Penthouse?” Jaime asks to no one in particular.

  “Where do you think Grandpa gets his copy from? Anyway, the good news is that you’re both free to go!” Emma adds, smiling wide and eyes brimming with excitement.

  As we follow them down the corridor towards the outside, I look over at Orval. “The kid’s name really is Barney?”

  “Last name, son. First name George.”

  We’re quiet as we head towards their Buick. Obviously, my truck is still out at the field, so I follow behind Jaime as she slips into the back seat. “Don’t get any ideas back there,” Orval hollers as he pulls out of the police station.

  Emma talks from the passenger seat the entire trip out of town. Even if we wanted to join the conversation, she leaves no room for exchange. Instead of trying, I spy Jaime’s hand sitting on the seat and link my fingers with hers. It’s a subtle touch, but one I crave, like the desert craves the rain.

  Her green eyes are warm, holding a hint of laughter. I’m damn thankful she isn’t throwing me out on my ass right now, not that I’d blame her. I rejoice in the smile that plays on her lips. It makes my heartbeat kick up a notch, and a smile of my own graces my face.

  Twenty years from now, this is a story I hope to share with our kids. Okay, maybe not the full story, but a PG, abbreviated version. And, yes, call me a pansy or a pussy or whatever you want. I can actually see my future with her in it. Jaime’s the only one I see. The only one I want.

  When we pull up to my truck, Jaime and I both jump out, eager to end the humiliation part of the night. I thank Orval and Emma for springing us from lock up, even though we would have been released on our own since no charges are being filed. But still, I appreciate them picking us up and delivering us back to my truck.

  I open the passenger side door to help Jaime. The first thing I notice is the condom wrapper discarded on the floor, followed by my cell phone. Some of the content of Jaime’s purse is there, lying on the floorboard beside a dropped water bottle. I can’t help it, I start to laugh. Hard. Her eyes follow mine to the evidence of our tryst, and she too bursts out laughing.

  Gently grabbing her upper arms, I pull her into my body, cradling her as if she were a priceless treasure. And she is. To me, she is.

  When the laughter subsides, my lips find hers. They’re warm and soft and cause my body to fire to life once more, even after the shame of being busted parking. Before I’m able to take control, Jaime’s tongue pushes against the seam of my lips, begging for entrance. Passion surrounds me, engulfing me, from nothing more than just her clothed body and sweet tongue sliding against mine. She’s my biggest high and my greatest weakness.

  “Can I still go home with you?” she asks without breaking the kiss.

  “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

  “Then let’s go. I think we both need a shower to wash the criminal scent off. Together.”

  She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I wrap my hands around her hips and lift her into the truck cab. Slamming to door, I run around to the driver’s side and slide in without an ounce of couth or finesse. Jaime’s pulling my keys from her purse and thrusting them at me before I even have my seatbelt fastened.

  We keep our hands to ourselves the entire ride to town, both of us clearly not wanting a repeat ride in the back of a squad car. By the time I pull into my driveway, the truck is so sexually charged I’m sure the electricity flying around is visible.

  Helping Jaime from the truck, we walk hand-in-hand up the sidewalk to my front door. Our gait is a bit hurried as we slip inside, and I fumble for the light switch. Before I can locate the one I’m after, she pulls on my hand, wraps her arms around my neck, and plasters her body against mine.

  Forget about the light.

  Forget about being arrested.

  Forget about everything other than Jaime.

  “Shower. Now.” I don’t need any further direction.

  As I pick her up and her long legs wrap around my waist, I thank my lucky stars that I chose flowers as a gift for Mrs. H. If not, who knows if or when I would have met Jaime.

  Pushing thoughts of Mrs. Hanson out of my head, I carry my woman towards the bedroom. Her lips caress my neck, sending goosebumps rippling across my arms. With my hands firmly gripping her ass, I walk straight into the bathroom and into the shower. Our clothes will need to be washed anyway, right?

  When the cold spray hits our bodies, Jaime shrieks, wiggles in my arms, and laughs against my neck. My lips claim hers urgently as the water finally heats up, but neither of us notices.

  We’re too busy creating our own warmth.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jaime

  “The convict is up,” AJ hollers over the 80’s hairband music pumping through the overhead speakers at The Lanes, a local bowling alley.

  It’s sisters’ night, and all six of us are competing for bragging rights as the top bowler. For as good as I am at putt putt golf, I’m a horrible bowler. Surprisingly, Abby is the star bowler of the family. For someone who hates all sorts of physical activities and keeps her nose firmly in the pages of a book, she’s shockingly good at throwing a bowling ball.

  It has been a week since my run-in with the local law. Between Grandma and Payton, who I have yet to forgive for sending the grandparents to bail us out, the entire family knew about our pending incarceration before they even pulled into the parking lot at the county jail.

  Ryan and I have spent every waking hour together–and some not-so-waking hours. In fact, I spent three of the last seven nights at his house. And the ones that I wasn’t there, I was up half the night with him on the phone. We are firmly lodged in coupledom, even if that was never my intention. So much for taking it slow and steady. Instead, we’re officially dating and doing all things expected of us as a couple.

  I don’t find myself freaking out the way I would have expected when facing my first relationship since my broken engagement. My need to make major life lists has also seemed to decrease. It’s like Ryan evens me out, neutralizes me in a way I never expected. Now, my lists are little things like what ingredients I need to make dinner and gift ideas for Ryan’s birthday in a few months.

  Every time I feel that hesitation creep up, I think about the way I feel when he kisses me, and that uncertainty seems to fade away. I’m nowhere near ready for marriage, but I realize I’m settling into the idea of a future with Ryan more comfortably than expected.

  In fact, let’s be honest: I feel a lot more than comfort when it comes to him.

  The way my heart skips a beat and pounds recklessly in my chest when he’s near is a sure sign of something more. Throw in the fact that I can literally picture him in every scenario I conjure up involving my future, and that’s another indication. He’s everywhere, surrounding me like a warm blanket. I feel him breaking down the final barriers, exposing my mangled heart. I just pray he’s willing to mend the pieces and make me whole again instead of the alternative, which would destroy me.

  Ryan’s right, there’s something spe
cial between us. I do feel it. I feel myself falling more and more for him every single day, yet I’m still scared. But it’s his strength and determination that keeps me pushing forward, towards him instead of running away.

  “Jaime, are you taking your turn or just going to continue daydreaming about lover boy?” Lexi asks, waggling her eyebrows.

  I’m pulled from my thoughts and notice all of my sisters staring at me, most with knowing smiles on their faces. Of course, they think I’m lost in fantasies of Ryan, not that I’m trapped in my own mind again and trying to keep the panic at bay. I’ve let him in, plain and simple, and it scares the hell out of me.

  Hell, I didn’t let him in, the sneaky bastard weaseled his way in and burrowed in for the long haul.

  “Yeah, I’m going,” I declare, hopping up from the hard chair to retrieve my ball.

  The Lanes does cosmic bowling every Saturday night, which features a big selection of neon balls that glow under the black lights and disco balls. I slide my fingers in the neon pink one and take my stance. Def Leppard wails overhead as I send my ball spiraling down the lane. At the last moment, it shoots towards the left gutter, barely clipping two pins.

  “You suck,” Meghan giggles, tossing back her third margarita of the night. Or was it her forth?

  “I’m a horrible bowler,” I confirm.

  “I would suggest it has something to do with that tall drink of water staring at you from the bar, but I’ve seen you bowl before. You suck.” This from AJ.

  Her words finally permeate my mind, and I quickly glance behind me at the bar. Ryan is sitting there, right next to Josh. Meghan’s boyfriend always shows up at some point during our sisters’ nights, but I wasn’t expecting to see him sitting with Ryan. Earlier in the day, when I told him I would be going out this evening with my sisters for our monthly get-together, we made plans to attend my family’s July Fourth cookout tomorrow. Never did he mention that he planned to show up this evening.

  I smile as realization sets in. I’m happy he’s here–excited, even. Never had someone of the opposite sex shown up for me during one of our Saturday night outings. Always Meghan, sometimes AJ and Lexi, but never me.

  “I can’t believe he’s here,” I mumble absently as my ball reappears for my second throw.

  Eyes that I didn’t feel earlier are glued to my body as I take my position. Without even turning for confirmation, I can feel his gaze, heating my body clear down to my toes. Desire pools between my legs causing a break in concentration as I send it rolling. Halfway down the lane, my ball is in the gutter.

  “I think he’s distracting her,” Payton says to Lexi.

  “Hell, I’d be distracted too if someone looked at me like I was an ice cream sundae on a hot July day.” Payton elbows AJ, who just laughs at her own comment.

  “Twenty bucks says they’re doing it in the parking lot before the night is over,” Lexi adds.

  “Once a criminal, always a criminal.” The grin Meghan wears after her comment consumes her whole face. She gets that same look every time Josh is around.

  “You should just stick to drinking tonight,” Abby suggests with a hint of a smile.

  “I think you’re right,” I reply as I glance down at my empty beer bottle. “Anyone ready for another?”

  When I get orders for three of my five sisters, I head up the bar. Brown eyes the color of dark, rich chocolate track my progress every step of the way as he chats with Josh. Each of them enjoying a beer, their conversation halts the moment I step beside them.

  “You are the worst bowler in the history of bowlers, Jaime. Even the blind girl I went to school with was better than you.”

  “Thanks, Joshy Washy,” I say in a sing-song voice while ruffling his hair in a total juvenile move.

  “You know I hate it when you call me that,” Josh growls, rapidly smoothing down the wild locks.

  “You started it by insulting my bowling skills. How do you know I’m not sandbagging so that the others don’t feel so bad about their own lacking?”

  “I’m going to tell them you said that,” he retorts before taking another sip of his beer. “And unless you sandbag every time you play, which I’m pretty sure you don’t, then I think I’ll stick with my original claim. You suck.”

  Turning my attention to the bartender, I place my order before glancing at Ryan. “What are you snickering about?” I ask.

  Leaning forward until he’s a whisper away from my ear, Ryan says, “I was just thinking about how much I love it when you suck.”

  Warmth spreads up my neck and burns my cheeks at his dirty little insinuation. It catches me so far off guard that I’m unable to come up with a single retort. My tongue is thick and my mind filled with naughty images featuring Ryan and myself. And if the wicked gleam in his eye is any indication, I think it’s safe to say he’s picturing the same things.

  “Behave.”

  “You prefer when I’m being bad,” he whispers as he slides a single finger down my forearm and wraps his arm proprietarily around my waist. It’s a claim. A statement. He’s letting everyone know that I’m his.

  Before, I would have scoffed at the notion. Now? I want to wrap my arms around his shoulders and let his lips make a declaration of their own.

  “Don’t let the others see you do that,” Josh says to Ryan. “It’s a law that no boys are allowed on girls’ night.” Josh makes air quotes when he says the last two words.

  “Yet you’re always in attendance every month,” I sass back.

  “I’m watchin’ my girl.” His eyes seek out Meghan.

  “No one’s going to mess with her, Josh. We won’t let them,” I say.

  “I know, Jaime. I just like to see her having a good time with you guys. She’s been working crazy hours at the dental office and it makes me happy to see her enjoying herself.”

  “And you being here, ready to take her home at the end of the night has nothing to do with it?” My smile is wide and I feel Ryan’s hand flex against my hip, as if confirming his intentions for later this evening as well.

  “Well, that’s an added perk,” Josh confirms with a laugh.

  “Jaime, quick fraternizing with the enemy! Get over here and play!” Payton hollers.

  “Yeah, no boys, remember?” Abby adds.

  As if on cue, the bartender places a tray with three beers and a margarita in front of me. I try to retrieve my wallet, but Ryan drops a twenty on the bar before I’m able to dig one out.

  “I’ll pay you back later,” I tell him with a wink as I grab the tray.

  “I look forward to it.”

  There’s a little extra swing in my hips as I make my way towards my sisters to resume our game. But the entire time I’m playing, I’m watching the clock, waiting for the moment I can make my escape with Ryan.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ryan

  I’m pretty sure the little extra sway in her hips is for my benefit. My eyes are riveted to her ass as she sets each drink down on the table. When Jaime deposits the last one, she glances over her shoulder and gives me a little wink. My cock is so damn hard that I could use it as one of my tools on the job site.

  “Have you told her yet?” Josh asks before taking another swig of his beer.

  “Told her what?”

  “That you love her.”

  I meet his pointed look head on. There’s no denying it so I won’t even try. “Not yet.” I take a deep pull of my beer, trying to quash the tension that’s suddenly coursing through my body.

  “Why not?” he asks while turning to face me.

  “It’s kinda complicated. She’s still freaked out from the douche who left her right before the wedding.”

  “Asshole. I never liked him. I met him a few times, and each time he just gave the same cocky asshole vibe.”

  “Yeah, well, he sure did a number on her.”

  Josh drops his head. “I know. I was there when it happened. We had all just arrived in Cleveland f
or the wedding. It was the weekend before and the girls were all going to do a bachelorette party. I was invited to go to the bachelor party, but I made some excuse about not feeling well. Truth is I didn’t want to spend the evening with him and his friends. Chris had some meetings he couldn’t get out of so he was coming in on the Friday before. It was just me, Brian, and Grandpa Orval. Sad that I was happier staying with them back at the hotel, isn’t it?” Josh shakes his head before continuing.

  “Anyway, middle of the week, things just changed. I could tell something was wrong. Meg got a call from Payton and she was hysterical. I drove them over to the house Gavin and Jaime shared. I’ll never get over seeing her crumpled on the floor crying her eyes out. Fucking gutted me, you know?”

  Yeah. I know.

  “She’s like my sister. Shit, all of them are. Anything happens to any of them and I’d be the same way. Took everything I had not to track down that son of a bitch and knock his teeth out. I wanted to, but Meg wouldn’t let me.”

  I snort and think of how much satisfaction I’d have at seeing Josh deck Jaime’s ex. Well, behind me, of course.

  “She was a mess for a while after that,” Josh confirms what I already know.

  “She told me.”

  “You in it for the long haul?” he asks.

  The seriousness of the moment causes my heart to race. Yet it’s significantly important when realization sets in that there’s only one answer to his question.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then don’t be afraid to tell her. She might be a timid cat right now, but I know what she ultimately wants in life. Husband. Kids. House. Deep down she still wants all of those things that douche promised to give her and didn’t. Don’t be like that douche,” Josh says, extending his beer bottle out.

  “Never. I only want to make her happy,” I say as I tap my bottle against his.

  “Good to know. Have I told you about the time I got caught sneaking out of Meghan’s bedroom in the middle of the night?” he asks, an ornery gleam filling his blue eyes. Happily, I welcome the change of topic.