by Joss Wood
“That’s what you’re not understanding, Flick. There’s money in that house. That Beretta shotgun is a hundred K, and there were two or three pistols that I know will raise between three and five K each. Your aunt might have a problem, but she certainly isn’t short on taste.”
Flick’s sigh filled the car. “Good to know, but there’s still the little issue of her being branded a hoarder and a loser by everyone when all this gets out.”
It had been a long time—okay, never—since he cared what anyone outside his tight circle of friends thought about him, so her concern was foreign to him.
“Is that such a big deal?”
Flick’s laugh was deeply sarcastic. “In Mercy, gossip central? When you’re the matriarch, the queen bee, the standard one must aspire to? Hell, yes!” Flick cocked her head. “You really don’t understand that, do you?”
He really didn’t. “I’m not good at the games played in small towns like these. I understand the battlefields, the streets. It’s pretty simple out there: Bad guy wants to kill me, do not let that happen.”
“There are different types of death, Kai, and, to Gina, real death would almost be preferable to her losing her social standing, to losing the respect of her children, her peers.”
Different strokes, Kai thought. “I hear you, but the reality is that you’re not going to be able to remove that amount of stuff, quickly, without raising some eyebrows. And that raises the question, how did she accumulate that amount of stuff without anyone noticing? And how did it get upstairs? She must’ve had some help. Some of that furniture was damn heavy and needed men and muscle.”
Flick, normally as sharp as a spear tip, took a little time to see where he was going with that line of thought. When she did, her eyes widened. “I never thought of that! Someone has to know, but who?”
“It could just be a random delivery company that doesn’t give a rat’s ass what they’re delivering as long as they’re getting paid.”
“It would have to be an outside contractor, because if it was someone local then we would’ve heard about it.” Flick rubbed the tips of her fingers over her forehead. “God, I’m tired.”
He could see that. Pushing open his door, Kai got out and walked around the hood of his SUV to yank open her door. Flick swiveled in her seat and he placed both hands on her hips to lift her down. The gesture was unnecessary—she wasn’t that tired—but he wanted his hands on her anyway he could get them. Then she looked up at him, and the desire that she mostly kept hidden flared in her eyes. Confirmation that she liked his hands on her as much as he did.
Kai wasn’t an angel and he sure as shit wasn’t a saint, so he did what any man in his situation would do—the only thing he could do. He slid his arms around her back and she responded by arching into him, her stomach pressed against his dick, and opening her mouth under his. He couldn’t get enough of her taste. It was all Flick, feminine and fantastic, and it made him feel both wild and weak. As his tongue slid over hers, he lowered his hands and gripped the back of her thighs and boosted her up so that her inner knees rested on his hipbones. He swung around and leaned his butt against the back door of the SUV and felt her sink into him, surrendering to the pleasure sparking between them.
He swallowed her moan and skimmed one hand up her back, pulling the hem of her T-shirt up to explore the bumps of her spine, the luxury of her skin. He held her with one hand under her butt and allowed his other hand to flirt with the cord of her thong, the silkiness of her hips exposed by her low-riding jeans, that special, ultra-feminine spot on her rib cage where her breasts flared.
And she just held his face and kissed the hell out of him. This was pure, unadulterated desire, as honest as a bullet, as powerful as a drone strike. It was heat and want and craziness . . . Kai felt his balls contract when she sucked his lower lip into her mouth and then pulled away to feather kisses on his chin, his jaw. Her lips rasped over his stubble and her teeth grazed his jaw, heading to the area where his jaw met his neck.
“If you keep doing that I promise you that I will rip your clothes off. Right here, right fucking now.” His words penetrated the sexual fog between them and Flick jerked her head back. She didn’t look upset, didn’t look turned off—hell, if anything his bold statement looked like it had rocketed her higher, faster. She ground her hips into him and sighed lustily. Yeah, that wasn’t exactly the best way to cool the situation down.
Flick dropped her legs and found her footing, wobbling a bit. He grabbed her hips to steady her and she attacked his jeans, ripping open the buttons and shoving her hand inside the fabric, resting her forehead against his sternum when she found and encircled him. It took every inch of his willpower not to thrust into her hand, not to pull down her pants and have her climb up and onto him.
Willpower, he decided on an internal groan, sucked.
He raised his hands to cradle her face, trying, unsuccessfully, to ignore the fact that her thumb was skating across the top of his dick, that her fingers were dancing over the raised veins and driving him batshit crazy.
“We weren’t going to do this again,” Kai murmured, his lips against her temple.
“Whose stupid idea was that?”
“Yours. You said that you didn’t want to do anything stupid, man-wise, for a while. That some battles didn’t need to be fought.”
Through the fabric of his shirt he could feel her teeth nibbling his skin. “It could be another one-night stand.”
“Ordinarily I’d say yes, fuck yes, but you’ve had a hell of a night, a fight with your best friend, and you’re exhausted. This is you trying to step out of your crappy evening, your overwhelmed head . . . It’s not a good idea, honey. You’ll regret it in the morning.”
Flick managed a cocky smile. “I never regret an orgasm and neither should you.”
Kai’s willpower was fading fast and if he didn’t step away within twenty seconds he’d be following her into that house and into her bedroom and banging her senseless. The reasons why that wasn’t a good idea were fading fast.
“Flick, help me out here.” He placed his hand over hers to keep her still.
“Sorry, you’re on your own.” Flick stood up on her tiptoes and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Take me to bed, Manning.”
Well, okay, then. Since she was insisting . . .
Chapter Eleven
AmysBooks: So sad that Pippa and Flick aren’t talking to each other. Going into the Artsy Tartsy when they are both there is like entering a snowdrift.
BoredWife: Anyone know why?
DocMolly: Stay out of it, girls. None of your business.
***
When they reached her bedroom they found Rufus on her double bed, a kitten lying between his legs and another tucked into his stomach. He opened one eye to glare at Kai and sighed. The dog/horse had no intention of moving, that was obvious.
Well, Kai had no intention of allowing a creature farther down on the phylogenetic scale—he had to be smarter than Rufus, surely?—to derail his evening. Or, to put it more crudely, interruptus his coitus.
“Get off.” He pointed to the floor. Rufus lifted his nose and ignored him.
He heard Flick’s laughter and slid her a look. “Your dog is a menace.”
“I know, but he’s so cute!” Flick placed her hand on her heart. “And the kittens look so comfortable.”
Kai stared at her. “Are you seriously just going to leave them to sleep?”
Flick played with the buttons on her shirt and looked at him from under her eyelashes. “Surely we can do something creative without having to move the animals?”
Creative? He scowled at Rufus, who was now watching them and, judging by the evil gleam in his eye, was watching to see how Kai rose to the challenge. Mentally, not physically . . . He had no problem with physically.
Game on, dude. Kai quickly stripped off his clothes, watching Flick
watch him. He held her eyes as his clothes dropped to the floor, watching as her eyes deepened with lust and her tongue emerged to touch her top lip. Her fingers drifted over her breast and he noticed her raised nipples. She was getting hot from just looking at him, and Kai had never felt more like a man as he did in this moment.
He stepped up to her and unbuttoned her shirt and unfastened her belt. He pushed her shirt open and couldn’t resist sliding his hands under the cups of her bra to feel her breasts, to rub his thumbs over her nipples. He reluctantly pulled his hands away and gripped her waist, turning her so that she stood in front of her dresser mirror. Her head dropped back to rest on his collarbone and she watched with languorous eyes as he snapped open the front-opening clasp of her bra. The fabric sprang apart and there she was, flushed and rosy and excited. Kai pulled the shirt and bra from her and nuzzled his face into the side of her neck, kissing her shoulder. He flicked open the button of her jeans and slowly slid the zipper down, revealing a pair of pale blue panties that matched her bra. He pushed her jeans from her hips and heard the rustle of the fabric as it hit the floor around her ankles. Bending, he pulled her jeans and shoes from her feet and stood up again, his erection pushing into her lower back.
Her hands fluttered toward her panties, wanting to push them off. He shook his head and stepped back to sweep her hair off the back of her neck, to kiss her spine. He moved his mouth down her back and stopped when he came to the thin barrier of her flimsy thong, pushing his index finger under the thin cord that made up the T. He pulled the fabric down, easing the panties down her hips and over her thighs. Flick sighed and placed her hands on the dresser, dropping her head between her arms. She was nearly shaking with desire, her breathing was erratic, and he could smell her arousal.
He fluttered her fingers over the creamy skin of her inner thighs and widened his fingers to push her thighs apart. Then he started moving his fingers upward, zeroing in on her heat, her arousal. He took heat and warmth and moisture from her vagina and spread it over her clit. Flick shuddered as he entered her with one finger and then two, and he could feel her throbbing around him. His fingers twisted and pushed and she groaned as her hips gyrated.
He couldn’t wait much longer. He needed her, needed to be inside her, loving her, sheathed, encased in her.
“Condom,” he growled in her ear, and he watched as a hand dropped into a drawer of the dresser. After what felt like an eternity, she pulled out a strip of foil-covered condoms and ripped one off with her teeth. Allowing the wrapper to flutter to the floor, she passed it to him and he sheathed himself, quickly and efficiently.
“These animals have to go,” he said. He flashed Flick a grin. “Hold that thought.”
Kai gently picked up the kittens and placed them on top of a cushion on the floor before grabbing Rufus’s collar and tugging. He had to look ridiculous, he thought, trying to move a massive dog with a boner. After a tug-of-war that lasted a minute, Rufus sniffed, pushed himself to his feet, and hopped off the bed. Kai walked over to the door, opened it and ushered the dog out before slamming it shut again.
“About damned time,” Kai growled, sweeping the covers back. He grabbed Flick by the waist and laid her on the cool sheets, her hair fanned out against the white cotton. He pushed her curls back from her face.
“You are so beautiful,” he said, his tone reverent. And it was true—he’d never seen anything more exquisite in his life. Flick allowed her legs to fall open, and, grabbing his neck, she pulled him down so that he was lying on top of her. His dick needed no directions—it knew just where to go, and he slid inside her, tight and sweet.
“Ahhh, sweetheart.” Kai rested his forehead against hers as she lifted her hips to pull him deeper. “I want to go slow.”
“Slow is for later,” Flick whispered. “Right now I need you to love me.”
Love her? He almost did. Right now, right here, was the closest he’d ever been to that elusive emotion. Kai slid his arm under her hip and pulled her up and into him so that no space existed between them. “I can do that.”
“Show me,” Flick commanded.
That was one order he was happy to obey.
***
The next morning Flick felt sexy and sleepy but also so, so sad. She pulled a tray of double-chocolate muffins from the oven and ran the back of her wrist over her forehead. It was nearly six a.m., and two hours earlier she’d left Kai in her bed, her white sheet tangled in his long legs, a kitten sharing his pillow. She’d dropped a kiss between his shoulder blades, telling him that she was on the early shift, that the croissants and cupcakes wouldn’t make themselves.
He’d mumbled something that she didn’t catch and run his hand up the inside of her thigh before falling back to sleep.
It had been the best night of her life. Like the muffins, their lovemaking had been rich, explosive, a little dark, a lot steamy. In Kai’s arms, under his touch, she found her confidence and lost her inhibitions. She found herself.
Flick banged the tray of muffins on the steel table and held the edge of the counter, her top teeth sinking into her bottom lip. She’d found herself? What the hell was she thinking? You can’t do this, Flick. You can’t allow yourself to confuse sex with emotion, desire with devotion.
He was a good lover and last night he’d also been a good friend, there when she’d needed someone. But she had to keep this in perspective, keep her emotional distance. Kai was a here-today-gone-sometime-soon type of guy. His business might be here but he wasn’t, not really. Yeah, he rented a place, but his heart wasn’t here. He was the ultimate rolling stone.
And he was not a small-town guy. At all. He couldn’t imagine living in Mercy and she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Not on a long-term basis anyway.
Falling for Kai would be the most moronic thing, man-wise, she could do. It would even top that fling she’d had with that divorced guy with a kid. Falling for Kai would be stupid, and she knew stupid, especially when it came to men.
Kai was sex, was pleasure, he was a moment in time that she’d look back on when she was eighty and wanted to remember how good sex could really be. He was not where she should look for any happy-ever-afters.
Good talk. Head on straight. She had this.
Maybe.
She shouldn’t be worrying about Kai, she should be trying to work out how to repair her relationship with Pippa. But she couldn’t do that without coffee, so she walked into the store and headed straight for the coffee machine. She had maybe forty-five minutes until her early-bird customers trundled in, looking for their daily sugar and caffeine fix.
Kai was right, Flick thought as she waited for the industrial coffee machine to run through its morning waking-up cycle. There was no way that she would be able to clear Gina’s house without letting the cougar-sized cat out of the bag. She’d need help to move that furniture, an expert to determine what was valuable and what was not. As soon as she employed someone to do that, the word would be out. Gina’s out-of-control spending would be news, in capitals. Newsworthy of a flashing neon sign six feet high.
Who in Mercy could help her and keep their mouth shut? Who had that much self-control? She couldn’t think of anyone who met that criteria.
And what should she do with all the stuff? If Gina’s eye for a bargain and for quality was as good as Kai said it was, then selling her furniture would sort out her financial woes or, at least, make a damn good dent in them. But there was no way she’d be able to sell the contents of the house and keep it a secret. That, no matter how much Gina wanted it to, wasn’t going to happen.
If all of the hoarding had taken place in the storage containers then maybe Flick could’ve sold those items quietly, but Gina had stuffed her house to the gills as well.
Damn woman.
Flick grabbed a mug from the shelf above the machine and shoved it under the spout and hit a button. She waited as the liquid streamed into her
cup, mentally urging it to hurry the hell up. How would Pippa act today? They’d fought before but those arguments had been minor in comparison, and, because neither of them held grudges, easily forgiven and forgotten. This time they’d had a blisteringly hurtful fight, and she had nothing to compare it to, so she had no idea how Pippa would act. They were both right and both equally at fault.
She was keeping a secret about Pippa’s mother that Pips believed she had a right to know. And she probably did.
And Pippa had shot off some deeply hurtful sentiments of her own. Flick didn’t know if she could easily forgive her cousin for being so damn cruel. It was one thing living with the belief, the knowledge that she hadn’t meant enough to her mother to want her to stick around to raise her, but to have someone else verbalize her deepest fears, the most hurtful truth of her life, made her feel mentally and emotionally whipped.
Dealing with Pippa, with what she’d said, with Gina’s craziness between them, was going to be truly, utterly awful.
Flick picked up her coffee and turned at a tap on the large front window. Through the glass Tally sent her an unsure smile, and Flick walked across the shop floor to flip open the locks on the front door. Tally was wearing a pair of long cycling pants under a huge T-shirt and Flick wondered why she felt the need to cover up her gorgeous body. Then again, Tally, like every other teenage girl in the world, probably thought that her almost-perfect body was totally flawed.
“Hey.” Tally wiped perspiration off her forehead, trying to catch her breath.
“Are the cops chasing you? A rabid pack of dogs?” Flick asked, wrapping her hands around her cup.
Tally smiled. “Nah, I just love to run.”
“So early in the morning?” Flick gestured her inside. “You should still be asleep.”
“Sleep and I aren’t friends,” Tally said as Flick closed the door behind her. “Besides, running raises your endorphins, jumpstarts your blood. You should try it.”
Flick mock frowned at her. “Have you been talking to Kai? He’s also a fitness freak runner, addicted to exercise. I’m more of an eat-a-cupcake-and-read-a-book kind of girl.” She lifted her cup. “Would you like a cup? Or a muffin? On the house,” she added quickly, suspecting that the kid had more pride than she knew what to do with.
