Red Hot Kisses

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Red Hot Kisses Page 5

by Addison Moore


  “I don’t have an ego, sweetie,” I shoot right back with a laugh buried in my chest. “Everything about me is one hundred percent reality. And believe you me, when I knock out a box of condoms—stepping into the bookstore and purchasing a new one keeps me humble.”

  “Don’t make me gag.” She nearly pegs me in the eye with a fat one. “I predict this is the year your ego explodes like an atom bomb. It’ll be the Hindenburg disaster all over again with coeds running around with their hands in the air shouting, Oh, the humanity! Oh, the humanity!” Just as she wails out that last sentence, doing her best impersonation of some ditzy chick, her hand hits a branch and throws her off-balance. The stepladder kicks out from underneath her, and I leap five feet to my left in hopes to catch her.

  “Trixie!” I bark so loud my voice trembles through the orchard with an echo. Her brothers are going to kill me if she meets her untimely end. Hell, I’ll do the honors first.

  But Trixie doesn’t fall to her death by way of breaking her neck, nor does she break any other bone in her feisty little body. Instead, she falls like an anvil, landing hard in my arms, and I grunt as she nearly knocks the wind out of me in the process.

  “Shit,” I pant as I laugh, staggering to catch my footing, the look of fright still etched on her face. Her skin is bleached white, and her eyes are set wide as if she just saw her life flash before her eyes. “Hey, it’s okay.” I give her a little jostle. “I got you.” I tighten my grip on her, and she shudders, her arms wrapping tighter around my neck, inadvertently pulling me closer. “I promise, I would never let you fall. And I won’t.”

  Trixie holds on as if the earth were about to bottom out beneath us. That skin, those lips, those starlit eyes—my God, she’s beautiful. Yes, there’s an innocence about her, but there is also a very evident seductress lying just beneath the surface. Her lips curl into the idea of a smile as she continues to struggle to catch her breath.

  “I thought I was going to die,” she whispers. “I’m afraid of a lot of things. Heights being at the top of the list. Have I mentioned I have the university-issued birth control loft bed?”

  A tiny laugh rumbles in me. “No, you didn’t.” I toss her up in my arms, and we share a laugh as she falls back into my arms, safe and sound. Trixie tightens her grip around me as she sits up higher, her face just inches from mine.

  “I guess this is the part where I’d better say thank you.” She leans in just a touch, her eyes darting from my eyes to my lips, her chest still pumping as if she ran a marathon. She clears her throat as if coming to.

  “Yeah, I guess you’d better.” My head dips down just a notch as if gravity were demanding it to, and I can’t stop looking at those lips, all of the magic they contain just a hair away from mine. All I need is a quick brush, a barely there pass to reassure me they’re just as soft as they were last night, that I hadn’t imagined the whole thing. In truth, I had never kissed lips that luscious, so perfect in every single way. I don’t know how many miles Trixie’s put on those lips, but she has me mesmerized and left me thirsty for more. I could jostle her a bit once again and make a drive-by kiss look like an accident. I swallow hard because gravity has me bowing my head again, and she’s not making an effort to move, so I go for it.

  A boisterous crowd bursts into our tiny sanctuary, and soon there’s an entire army of limbs trying to snap off the few apples Trixie and I couldn’t reach.

  I pop her down to the ground like a reflex. The last thing I need is someone snapping a selfie with the two of us in the background. With my luck, it’ll go straight to one of her brothers.

  “Thanks.” She blinks hard before slapping her hands over her jeans, but those pale blue eyes remain tight on mine. “I guess we’d better get going.”

  “The sooner, the better.” Only I can’t seem to look away.

  A group of girls playing catch with an apple wrangles their way between us. Trixie and I pick up our bushel and head straight for the truck.

  I help her in and we take off.

  Neither of us says a word all the way over to the community center.

  * * *

  No sooner did Trixie and I drop the bushel of apples off at the community center than we headed back to Briggs. I dropped her off at Cutler Tower, and she hardly grunted out goodbye as she took off. She’s a pistol and a character. I really don’t know what the hell to make of her.

  But right now, it’s evening and my stomach is clawing at me from the inside, hoping that I’ll put a bushel of burgers into it, so I head over to the Black Bear.

  The Black Bear Saloon is a bar-slash-eatery, essentially every student’s choice on where to dine, and it’s all but put the cafeteria out of business. I pass the oversized stuffed black bear, an ode to its moniker, as I head inside and the place is rowdy and boisterous, as loud as a 747 landing on my head. The house band is blaring, and the girls are shaking their hips on the makeshift dance floor. I do a quick scan and spot a couple of guys from the frat house. Eli, Grant, and Lawson are kicking back by the bar, and just as I’m about to join them, a sweet smiling girl tackles me for a hug, my sister.

  “Is it Sunday Knight, or is it Saturday?” I give her ponytail a quick tug. Sunday is sweet as can be and far too innocent to be cavorting in a place like this, especially without her new best friend who could probably take on the trouble by the dozen. “Why aren’t you back at Cutler Tower with your roommate?” When the semester began, both Nolan and I lectured her until she begged for mercy regarding campus safety.

  “Relax, I was just grabbing a bite with Serena and her roommate.” She nods over to the dance floor, and I spot Serena losing it to the music. Serena happens to work at the Black Bear, but I’m guessing she’s off for the night, considering the fact she’s cutting loose with the best of them—and by the best of them, I mean a majority of the girls whom I have an intimate knowledge of. The thought alone makes me frown. “Come join me. It’s been lonely ever since Serena heard her favorite song and they both took off for more rhythmic pastures.”

  “You should be out there.” I can’t help but hold back a laugh as she leads me to a table in the corner. I’m a touch proud of the fact Sunday isn’t like the other girls at Briggs. She’s sane and a little on the shy side. Don’t get me wrong, Serena is like a sister to me as well, and I’m keeping one eye on her the whole time, but Sunday? She’s a delicate flower who needs a little more looking after. I’m happy to do it, and I’m happy as hell that Serena is here at Briggs now, too. Sunday and Serena have been closer than sisters. It never made sense to me that my cousin Lex insisted Serena go to Barnes—the self-righteous all-girls’ school down the road. Lex is quirky, insane by most standards, but like anyone else in the family, she means well. And she certainly meant well when she stepped in to help raise us once my mother died.

  I glance to Sunday as she settles into the seat across from me and can’t help but think our mother would be proud. I know she is.

  “You’re quiet. Trixie texted and let me know she was trapped with you all day. How did that work out?” She leans in and narrows her eyes over me as if questioning my motives. That kiss Trixie and I shared last night runs through my head, and it feels as if it were happening in real time. I can still feel that tongue twister right down to my bones.

  “It worked. She’s not your average bear, so I needed to get her acclimated to the club.” Acclimated? Something tells me Trixie doesn’t acclimate well to too many things. She’s a jagged shard of glass in a sea of cotton.

  Sunday furrows her brows as if she might be buying this. “Well, she’s not what I pictured for a roommate and I’m glad. I was afraid I’d get stuck with some boring bookworm who wanted to study all day. Trixie actually wants to have a life, and I for one appreciate that.” She lifts a shoulder my way as if to ward off any comebacks I might have. “What’s with the face?”

  “Nothing.” My stomach grinds as last night plays through my mind. I’m not sure why, but I can’t seem to get that kiss out of my mind. I’
ve been kissed before—that much is obvious—and yet not once before have I perseverated on such an innocent action. Although, in truth, there was nothing innocent about that kiss. Those lip moves she was putting out—that we both were putting out, were laced with sin through and through. Nope, that was no innocent action. But there’s just something in me that won’t let it go. Hell, I don’t know if I’ve ever been so aroused in my entire life as I was in that moment. Maybe it’s the way she was looking at me just before she took hold of me. Maybe it’s the fact she grabbed me by the hand and sailed me upstairs without a word—that dark bathroom, the slam of the door as she secured us inside, the way she grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me to her. And then the soft feel of her lips, her mouth falling open for me, and the welcome party her tongue threw. It was a good time, that’s for damn sure. But it’s what happened afterward that has me sitting uneasy all day. Trixie told me off as if I was the one who dragged her up there. Those words she used stained my brain all last night and every minute of today. Whore, joke, someone people laugh at. I get that she was embarrassed by what happened. It felt more like a knee-jerk reaction as she shouted those words, but something deep in my charred heart knew they were built on truth. I’ve slept with more girls than should ever be legal. Who the hell would respect me? I certainly don’t.

  “Earth to Rush?” Sunday fans her fingers over my eyes, and I blink back to life. “Wow, you were really out there. Are you sure everything’s okay?”

  “Everything’s great.” I shake my head as if denying it.

  “Oh my God!” My sister’s face lights up as she screams with uncalled for glee. “You were thinking of a girl, weren’t you?”

  My mouth opens for a minute as I glance to the door and in walks Knox sporting his sister’s face like a Halloween mask. “Actually, I was thinking of a girl.” Miranda strides in after him and gifts me a wink just as Sunday cranes her neck to see who’s stealing the show.

  “Oh wow, her? I would never have guessed it.” She spins back around, her face flustered as if I’d just let her in on some life-changing secret—and for Sunday to think I’m into some chick, as in singular, it’s pretty life-changing. “Well, who knew there was a thorn so sharp she could pop that balloon of debauchery you’ve been floating in all these years? Good for her. And good for you! It’s about time you led by example. I mean, if you get to date a hundred girls, I should be able to date a hundred guys. Only I think we both know you were doing just about everything but dating them.” She gives my hand a tap as she gets up. “Serena is flagging me down. Are you gonna be here for a bit?”

  “Yup.” I nod her over to the dance floor. “Get out there and have a good time.”

  No sooner does she vacate the seat than Knox slides in and fills it. Those ice-blue eyes of his are gunning me down as if he were privy to the fact it was his sister I thought of last night as I slicked off in the shower.

  “What’s up?” He leans back, his head cocked to the side in the same manner Trixie did this afternoon at the meeting. When she walked in wearing those jeans, that T-shirt, my entire body caught on fire. A blaze works its way up from my boxers just thinking about it.

  “Are you blushing for me, sweetheart?” Knox laughs as the waitress comes by and drops off a glass of water for each of us along with a couple of menus.

  “Dream on, dude.” I scowl at the exit as if judging how fast I can hit it. “Something is eating at me, though.” My heart sinks because Trixie’s caustic words keep stringing through my mind like a damning refrain.

  “What’s that? Let me guess.” His brows pitch in the same demented way his sister’s did last night. “You having a hard time choosing between a blonde and a brunette for the evening? Let me make it easy on you—whichever one is closest.” He belts out a laugh and holds his fist out, just waiting for me to offer up a knuckle bump, but I don’t move.

  “It’s exactly that.” I glare at his fist until he drops it slowly. “I’m sick of it. I’m sick of running around wondering what night my dick is going to fall off.” I catch a glance of Serena and Sunday dancing out there and my stomach sinks. “And I feel guilty. I’m not leading by example. It’s that frat house, dude. It morphs into a candy store each and every night,” I growl as I spot Eli Gates talking to Grant and Lawson. Eli was the one who talked me into the frat to begin with. “Believe you me, it wasn’t my idea to spike my stakes in the middle of the pastry aisle.”

  “Dude, I won’t even begin to tell you what a sexist ass you sound like right now. Just because the girls are downstairs doesn’t mean you have to haul them up to your bed. Besides, nobody is holding a gun to your head. You can pick up stakes anytime you like. I’ve got a house for lease next door to mine. If you want, come by in the morning. They’re showing it.”

  “House, huh?” I’ve been to Knox’s little getaway. It’s cool. I like it. It has a man cave feel, but it’s also nice enough to remind me of home.

  “Yup, trust me, you’ll still hang out at Beta house, but you’ll love the fact you can walk away from the scene whenever you want. Harper and I really appreciate it.” His brow hikes ten times higher with the dirty insinuation.

  “I bet.” My heart sinks because there’s not a girl in the world I’d want to drag there, not for those purposes anyway. Trixie runs through my mind, and I help her run right back out. Damn that kiss. It’s like she cast some kind of spell on me. “Maybe I’ll swing by and check it out. Thanks, dude. I owe you one.”

  “Perfect. I’m glad you owe me one, and if you don’t mind I’d like to collect.” He leans in with something lethal layered in his eyes. “I need you to do me a favor.”

  “Anything outside of a felony. It’s yours.” Although judging by the venom shooting out of him, whatever he has brewing, it qualifies as a felony.

  “It’s my sister, Trixie.” He winces as he says it. “You know her.”

  “Sounds like a felony right off the bat.” A tired lungful of air expires from me. “She’s in the Media Club. I spent the day with her. I guess you can say I know her well.” That soft as hell mouth comes back to me and I groan a little as I swallow down the memory.

  Knox shakes his head as if commiserating with me. “Yup. She’s a pistol. Anyway, she’s out to stretch her wings, and I don’t want to be the helicopter brother. Rex is a little more laid-back with her, but me—dude, she’s like my other half. I can’t just let her run wild without keeping an eye on her. That’s where you come in. How about it? Keep an eye on Trix, and if you see any idiots trying to get in her pants give me the heads-up, will you? Lawson’s already agreed to do the same.”

  Lawson is their stepbrother, and he happens to be on the basketball team with me. Good guy, and yet another brother for the girl who can’t seem to leave my mind no matter how hard I try to evict her.

  Keeping an eye on Trixie? My dick twitches at the thought of getting in her pants, and I force my eyes to close in an effort to keep from seeing her face in his. “Will do. Look, I gotta run.” I jump up before I out myself and what I did with his sister last night. What I’m still very much doing with her in my perverted mind.

  “Perfect.” He stands and slaps me five. “So you’ll keep an eye on Trix for me? Protect her as if she were your own sister? Keep her free from all the floating perverts?” Knox looks over at me with the faintest hint of desperation, the same level of desperation I’d feel if I were asking someone to keep an eye on Sunday.

  “Yeah, you got my word. I’ll watch over her as if she were my own little sister.”

  We head our separate ways, and I hit the exit fast and hard.

  Little sister. I shake my head at the idea as the crisp autumn air bites right through the lie.

  I feel like a lot of things around Trixie—a sibling isn’t one of them.

  Rush Hour

  Trixie

  The Black Bear is the last place you’d think a wide-eyed girl like Serena Maxfield would be spending her Sunday afternoon, but that’s exactly where she’s lurking, chas
ing the almighty dollar with a swivel in her hip and a smile.

  “What can I get for you?” She beams those pearly whites at Sunday and me as we settle on our order.

  “Large nachos with everything on them.” I slide the menus back her way. “Try not to skimp on the jalapeños this time,” I snark.

  “You slay me.” She rolls her eyes because we just so happen to have never ordered anything from her before. “Speaking of slaying me, my shift is up in ten minutes. Baya’s taking over, so she’ll be the one responsible for all the hell fire peppers you want. She’s the owner’s wife, so I’d nix the sass.” She winks at Sunday before taking off.

  “So, what’d you think of the Media Club?” Sunday tips her head, and her blonde waves spill in perfect formation. Bleh. Sunday is literally one of those girls—the ones you grew to despise in high school because they essentially lived the life of a mannequin. Sunday looks perfect twenty-four seven and, swear to God, she wakes up that way, too. I’ll never be one of those girls. My hair looks like a Brillo pad when I wake up, and my breath alone can nuke hostile nations with a simple good morning.

  “The Media Club?” I told Sunday all about my apple picking adventures with her big bro as soon as I got home, sans the part where he caught me and we looked deep into one another’s eyes as if we were suddenly caught in some cheesy romance novel. I would have bet good money he was about to kiss me. I wouldn’t have stopped him. I’m guessing he thinks I would have decked him and he’d be missing every other tooth if he did. But I’d swear on my life he wanted it. My cheeks burn with heat because I guess I wanted it, too. I don’t exactly have a roster of guys I’ve kissed, but even though the list is short, that spit swap we shared in the bathroom was pretty intense in comparison. I have never been kissed that way in my life. I may have started that lip war, but Rush sure as hell finished it.

 

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