A Kick in the Pants (a Riley O'Brien & Co. novella)

by Jenna Sutton

  “What kind of champagne is this?”

  “Krug Clos d’Ambonnay 1995. It’s made entirely from Pinot Noir.”

  He carefully placed the coupes on the small table next to the sofa, and she took the opportunity to link his hand with hers. Lacing their fingers together, she said, “Let’s celebrate in the shower.”

  Jake smiled slowly. “That’s a wicked awesome idea.”

  Minutes later, they stood in the bathroom, completely naked. The first time Kyla had seen Jake’s bathroom, she had been speechless. Simply put, it was the largest, most luxurious bathroom she’d even seen anywhere—in person, on TV, online, or in a magazine.

  Except for the large white rectangular tiles on the floor and the white sinks and toilet, aqua was the predominant color. Shimmery aqua mosaic tiles covered every inch of the walls and floor of the glassed-in shower. It was large enough to accommodate a basketball team. Twenty-plus shower heads and body jets sprayed temperature-controlled water.

  Using the digital touchpad, Jake turned on the water. Steam immediately filled the shower, fogging the glass panels. He stepped inside first, carrying the champagne and a condom, and she followed.

  As Jake placed the bottle on the shower seat in the corner, Kyla let her gaze wander over her guy. Against the vibrant aqua of the mosaic tiles, his skin looked darker than usual. His broad shoulders tapered into a lean waist, the muscles in his back and sides creating thick ridges under his skin.

  His ass was so tight with muscle, a deep dimple sat high on each cheek. His legs were long and leanly muscled, and the backs of his thighs and calves were sprinkled with dark hair.

  Jake turned and stepped under the rain shower head. Dropping his head back, he let the water pour over his hair and face. He lifted his arms to slick his hair away from his face, and the muscles in shoulders and arms bunched and shifted.

  As she moved her gaze lower, over the defined muscles of his pecs and the hard sinew of his ribs, the flesh between her legs began to ache and swell. A line of silky hair created a swirl around his belly button before leading downward to a cluster of dark curls. He was already erect, his penis jutting toward her.

  Jake wasn’t hung like a porn star, and Kyla was glad about that. His penis was only a little longer than average, but it was wide and thick.

  He caught her eyes and beckoned her to him with a curl of his finger. When she got within touching distance, he reached for her, pulling her under the spray with him.

  Hot water trickled over her shoulders and breasts, stoking the fire already warming her skin. Jake’s arms encircled her from behind, his erection pressing into her back.

  He brought his hands to her breasts, lifting and shaping them with his palms. She arched against him, rubbing against his hard-on, as the water mingled with the slickness between her legs.

  Using both hands, he lightly rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. He always started out that way, gentle and light. But slowly, he increased the pressure until he pinched the tight buds. Her pussy clenched each time he squeezed.

  He maneuvered them away from the shower heads and jets until they faced the glass panels and water barely touched them. Reaching around her, he picked up the champagne bottle and poured the chilled liquid down the side of her neck.

  The temperature differential made her gasp. He licked the champagne off her neck before gently biting and sucking the delicate skin.

  Jake liked to mark her. He swore that he didn’t, but he really did. And she liked it, too.

  “Brace your hands on the glass and bend forward a little bit,” he rasped.

  He knelt behind her, his knees spread wide between her feet. She felt a trickle of chilled liquid on her back and knew he was pouring champagne down her spine.

  His hot mouth sipped at the bubbly beverage, trailing from the middle of her back to the top of her butt crack. To her shock, he dipped his tongue between her butt cheeks.

  She gasped his name and felt the hot kiss of his laughter on the sensitive skin of her rear. From behind, he slipped his hand between her thighs and stroked through the puff of hair. Finding her clit, he rubbed circles around it. Sensation gathered in that little collection of nerves, and her legs began to shake.

  He moved his finger away from her clit and worked it inside her. She moaned as her pussy clamped around his finger. Snaking his other arm around her, he palmed her mound in his big hand and squeezed. Then he slipped two fingers between her damp curls and began to massage her clit while he thrust his other finger into her in a slow, easy rhythm.

  The steam created by the hot water made the air heavy. She gasped, trying to catch her breath, but Jake’s hold never loosened, and his pace never faltered.

  Desperate to come, she began to ride his hand, tightening her internal muscles whenever his finger slid inside. When Jake pressed his thumb against the tender rosette of her asshole, she came apart, screaming his name. The tile walls amplified her screams until her ears rang.

  She collapsed against the glass panel, and Jake stood. His body surrounded her, tall and strong.

  Cupping her hips in his hands, he placed his mouth against her ear. “Do you want me to pick you up and fuck you against the wall,” he growled, “or do you want me to bend you over the seat and fuck you that way?”

  His words sent a zing down her spine. It burst in her clit, and she quivered in his arms.

  “I need to be inside you. Now. Tell me how you want it, or I’m going to decide for you.”

  She didn’t bother to reply. She knew she would come either way.

  Jake snatched the condom from the ledge, and she heard him rip it open with his teeth. He stepped back for a moment before he spun her around to face him. His eyes burned into her, no longer greenish-gold, but nearly black with arousal.

  Gripping her waist with both hands, he lifted her. She opened her legs and hooked them over his hips. After centering himself against her opening, he slammed into her.

  “Aw, fuck.” He groaned deep in his throat. “I can’t live without this.” He pressed her back against the tile wall and began to pump into her. “I can’t live without you.”

  She let her head fall back against the wall, her legs locked around his hips and her fingernails digging into his biceps. While he moved inside her with smooth, luscious drives, he spread kisses across her collarbone and the hollow of her throat.

  Grunting, he hooked his forearm under her butt and held the back of her head in his palm. His fingers tangled in her hair, and he used the wet strands to pull her head back.

  Their eyes met, and she could see her need reflected in his gaze. Pressure coiled low in her belly and spread to her womb.

  “You’re there,” he panted. “Just let go. You’re safe with me.”

  He shifted the angle of his pelvis, and his next thrust made fireworks erupt inside her. As her pussy rippled and clamped down on his erection, she cried out, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

  He shuddered against her, and she watched him come. His entire body stiffened, and his lips pulled away from his teeth in a snarl. His penis jerked inside her, once, twice, three times, before he nuzzled his face into the valley between her breasts.

  When their breathing slowed, he pulled out of her and let her legs drop to the floor. She was unsteady and trembling, and he secured her against the wall with his body.

  “Kyla.”

  She looked up at him. He looked drugged, his pupils huge and his eyes unfocused.

  “Did you mean it?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “You said you loved me. Did you mean it?”

  *****

  Jake was exhausted, mentally and physically, but he couldn’t sleep. He rarely suffered from insomnia, and when he did, it was always because he was worried or unhappy.

  But that wasn’t the case tonight. He couldn’t sleep because he was too happy. He had everything he’d ever wanted, including the love of the amazing woman lying next to him in bed.

  He was
one lucky bastard.

  Earlier in the day, when he’d realized that he couldn’t be Riley O’Brien & Co.’s CFO and also be in a relationship with Kyla, he had felt angry and hopeless. He had been sure that lady luck had turned her back on him. But she hadn’t.

  Jake had never imagined that Kyla would make their relationship a priority over her career. If she hadn’t agreed to resign from the finance department, he would have gone to Quinn and turned down the CFO gig. There were other CFO jobs with other companies, but there was only one Kyla Andrews.

  After indulging in celebratory shower sex and take out from his favorite Greek restaurant, he and Kyla had talked about her decision. She had assured him that she had been intrigued by idea of managing the trainee program, but had been afraid to take the risk.

  Beside him, Kyla let out a little snore. He grinned into the darkness, grateful that he had the opportunity to learn all the quirks and conundrums and secrets that made Kyla the person she was.

  Rolling over, he aligned his front to her back and began to count sheep. At sheep number fifteen, he noticed how good Kyla’s face cream smelled. At sheep number twenty-two, he noticed that her nightgown had ridden up and exposed her thighs. At sheep number thirty-seven, he noticed how her ass perfectly nestled into cradle of his pelvis. And at sheep number forty-four, he noticed that he had a hard-on that tented the front of pajama pants.

  He cursed under his breath. He knew she’d had a long day, too, and he wasn’t going to wake her up just because he and his cock had insomnia.

  He rolled over again, this time facing away from her and the temptation of her round ass. The down cover felt heavy on his lower legs, so he kicked free of it and the top sheet. But once his feet were uncovered, the air circulating from the overhead ceiling fan turned his toes into ice cubes.

  He shoved his feet back under the covers and flipped onto his back. He tried to fall asleep in that position, but his pillow, which had always been comfortable, made his neck ache.

  And he still had a goddamn hard-on.

  Desperate to get some sleep, he slid his hand under the drawstring waist of his pajamas and fisted his cock. He began to move his hand up and down, squeezing the head and shaft with every stroke.

  Kyla stirred and rolled toward him. He froze, wondering if he’d disturbed her. When she didn’t move again, he resumed his furtive fondling. With her lying right next to him, providing fodder for his masturbation reel, it wasn’t long before he felt the familiar fiery burn at the base of his spine.

  All of a sudden, Kyla’s hand covered his through his pajamas. “Need some help?” she whispered.

  He couldn’t help but laugh. Talk about getting caught red-handed.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” he explained sheepishly. “I’m sorry I woke you up, sweetness.”

  Kyla didn’t reply. She simply slipped her hand into his pajamas and nudged his hand away.

  After rubbing her thumb over the tip of his cock and spreading the pre-cum over the head and down the shaft, she picked up where he left off. Unsurprisingly, her soft hand felt a lot better than his callused mitt.

  “I love your cock.” Her sleep-husky voice raised goosebumps along his arms. “It’s perfect. Not too big, not too small.” The pace of her tugs increased. “It’s nice and thick. I love the way it stretches me … the way it fills me.”

  Holy shit. Kyla is talking dirty to me.

  Her words conjured an image of them in the shower, her head thrown back against the tile wall as he pounded into her. Blood rushed to his groin, hardening his cock even more.

  “The next time you can’t sleep, I’m going to use my mouth instead of my hand. I’m going to start off slowly, but then I’m going to put my tongue right here,” —her thumb brushed over the slit crowning his cock— “and you’re going to go crazy.”

  His breathing was erratic now, excited gusts and shallow pants. The burn had spread from his spine to his balls, and he knew he was close.

  She traced the engorged vein running along the side of cock. “I’m going to suck you so deep. Would you like that?”

  “God, yes,” he gasped.

  Rubbing the sensitive area on the underside of his cock just below the head, she said, “And I’m going to use my tongue on this spot right here. I’m going to play with you until you’re pulling my hair and shoving your cock down my throat.”

  She moved her hand faster, her grip tightening on his shaft. “Will you come in my mouth or on my chest?”

  And that was all it took. His orgasm slammed into him so hard, his back bowed off the bed. He erupted into her palm as she whispered a litany of praise, telling him how hot he was and how much she loved him.

  “Kyla,” he breathed.

  She was sweet and dirty and perfect.

  She laughed softly. “Sweet and dirty and perfect?”

  He hadn’t realized that he’d said any of that out loud, but he wasn’t embarrassed that he had. He’d told her that he was done hiding his feelings for her, and he’d meant it.

  “Yes. You’re sweet and dirty and perfect. And you’re mine.”

  “I don’t know about the first part. But the last part is definitely true.”

  She pressed a chaste kiss on his mouth before bounding out of bed and padding to the bathroom. He checked the clock. They had gone to bed fairly early, and it wasn’t even midnight yet.

  The bathroom door opened, and Kyla emerged. She’d pulled her hair into a ponytail, and without any make-up or jewelry, she looked like a sorority girl. She climbed into bed, settling on her side, and he rolled to face her.

  Resting his hand on the curve of her hip, he said, “I love you, Kyla.”

  “I love you too.”

  “I know we haven’t been seeing each other for very long, but I don’t want to be with anyone else. I want us to be exclusive.”

  “So do I.”

  Thank God.

  “Then it’s settled. We’re a couple. Jake and Kyla. Kyla and Jake.”

  She smiled. “My boyfriend is Riley O’Brien & Co.’s CFO.”

  “Not until July first.”

  Her smile faded. “July first,” she repeated.

  “What?” he asked, sensing that there was some significance with that particular date. “What’s wrong?”

  “July first is the day my dad died.”

  Stroking the blond wisps along her hairline, he asked, “How many years has he been gone?”

  “Seven years.” She shook her head. “Sometimes it feels like yesterday, and sometimes it feels like it never happened at all. Or it happened to another person … another Kyla Andrews.”

  “How did he die?”

  “Gunshot wound.”

  Jake hadn’t expected that answer. “How did that happen?”

  “My dad was a detective with the Massachusetts State Police. He was killed in the line of duty.”

  Because Kyla rarely spoke about her father, Jake hadn’t known that the man had been a cop.

  “Oh, sweetness. I’m so sorry you lost him that way.”

  “Me too.”

  “Law enforcement is dangerous work. I don’t think people realize how dangerous.”

  “He got shot while investigating an illegal gambling ring based in Boston.”

  Holy shit. Was she kidding?

  “Illegal gambling?” he croaked.

  “You know, bookmaking.”

  Oh, yeah, Jake knew bookmaking. He was a fucking expert at it. He could teach a class on the subject.

  “My dad and his partner, Brooks, were interviewing the leader of a huge bookmaking operation, a guy named Resene.” Her lush mouth curled in disgust. “He didn’t get his hands dirty. He had a network of people who did everything for him.”

  Bile rose in his throat. The only difference between Jake and Resene was that Jake’s bookmaking operation was legal … but only because it was based in Nevada. The exact same business was illegal in Massachusetts.

  “My dad and Brooks went to the pub in South Boston where Resene
ran his business. As you can imagine, it wasn’t a safe place. One of Resene’s guys had an itchy trigger finger. He shot first, and then everyone started shooting. My dad was hit six times. Five bullets hit his vest, but one hit about an inch below it. Right about here.” She touched Jake low on his stomach. “It ricocheted inside him, damaging almost every major organ.”

  She sighed. “I didn’t even know anything had happened to him. I had decided to stay in Ohio for the summer and take a couple of classes. I always turned my phone to silent when I was in class. When I saw a bunch of missed calls from my sister, I immediately knew something bad had happened to my dad. He died in surgery while I was standing in the Cincinnati airport waiting to catch a flight home.”

  Unshed tears pooled on her bottom eyelids. “There’s actually more to the story, though.”

  Jesus, there’s more?

  “My dad was one of Resene’s best clients. He had been for years. Somehow he managed to keep the fact that he was a compulsive gambler a secret from everyone, even my mom. After he died, she found out that he’d opened more than twenty credit cards in her name. He’d also liquidated their retirement account. He trashed her credit and left her destitute.”

  Jake suddenly understood Kyla’s desire to teach money management at the San Francisco Women’s Center. Her mother had been a victim, not of physical abuse, but a victim nonetheless.

  “Do you remember when New England Patriots had an undefeated season, but lost to the Giants in the Super Bowl?” Kyla asked.

  Jake remembered that football season vividly. Everyone had thought the Patriots were a lock.

  “Yeah. That was a bad beat.”

  She looked at him curiously. “What’s a bad beat?”

  “A wager that loses unexpectedly.”

  That Super Bowl game had ruined a lot of people financially. Too many people forgot that sports betting had nothing to do with skill, unlike other forms of gambling. Sports betting had everything to do with chance.

  “Resene said my dad bet big on the Patriots, and when the Giants beat them, he didn’t have the money to cover his losses.”