“Why’d you go along with it if you knew it was bullshit?”
He falls down beside me and sips his beer, rolling his head into the cushions.
“Because, I’d rather have her here with you than in the city where I can’t keep an eye on her. You think I don’t know that burglary was shit, man? Five guys—”
“Harris called you, huh?”
“Hell yeah. I’d cut his nuts off if he hadn’t. He knows Kins is my sister, and he saw her at the station when she went in to give her statement. Anyway, I figure she’s safe here while we look at her place and find those fucks.”
“You know something’s off here.”
“Um-hm. At first I thought about that little snot—”
“But then you got to thinking about the shooting at the Designers’ ball, and it started worrying you,” I finish.
“Yeah. That shit still gives me nightmares, man. The girls could have been hurt, seriously hurt, you know? And our families…I got Mama and Daddy to take a vacay in Spain early this year, and with Kins here,” he shrugs and gulps another sip of beer, “I’m going full hog on this one, bro. If someone is targeting us like you and Jericho think they are, then I need to make sure they’re safe. And this burglary—”
“Is no random coincidence. I agree. So what do we do?”
“We?” he grins. “Dude, you’re already indentured to a woman just like those other fools are, man. You’re doing nothing other than sticking close to Kins while I take a look at this and figure it out.”
Like hell. I’ve been on this since it happened, and no way in hell will I let Lex take over while I stick around here with Kinsley. I love the woman, but she’d drive me bat-shit crazy in hours—and we all know it.
“Kiss my ass.”
“No thanks, dude. Anyway, that’s Kinsley’s job now. Man oh man, can you imagine her face if she knew I was playing her? Priceless.”
“Not funny. She’s fragile right now, Lex. I don’t want her feeling worse about shit just so you can crow about being so smart,” I warn darkly. “You know how she is.”
“Do I ever. Have you seen this?” he asks, jumping up and running into the bedroom before coming back with a big album that’s decorated to high heaven and reminds me of something a little girl would do.
“What is that?”
“Her plans. This thing…hell, I took a peek at it once and almost had her lobotomized. I didn’t get past the first three years after seventh grade before it just gave me the willies, man. It’s got her whole life mapped out, like some sort of fucking manual or something,” he mutters, shuddering as he tosses it onto my lap. “Trust me, you open that, things will change for you, and maybe not in a good way.”
It’s heavy and decorated with different color pens. Neat, yet girlie, just like Kins. This is a huge violation of her privacy, and I know it, but I open the cover anyway and almost fall off the damn couch when I start reading.
It starts in the seventh grade and details her plans for high school and the next years. Reading it makes me feel like shit, but I’m also strangely grateful to be seeing this because the more I read, the more convinced I become that Kins coming here to me is the best thing that could have happened to her.
“What the hell.”
“Exactly, dude. You see that whole year of seventh grade? Jam packed with plans. She did more in one year than I’ve done in probably my whole life, and I played football in school, man. She’s got camps, classes, her whole freaking year planned down to the second in there. Read the next year.”
I do and feel myself deflate as it all becomes clear to me. Flipping through junior high I get to her sixteenth year and choke.
“What the hell?”
“Told ya. She’s out of control, man. I only saw this thing last year when I snuck into her house to do a security check and make sure that fuck she was with wasn’t doing some nasty shit to my sister. Why do you think I’ve been hardlining my protests about her marrying him?”
Why indeed. This…I don’t even know what to call this book, is Kinsley’s whole life mapped out precisely, the way we’d plan a mission with blue prints and the works. She’s taken everything she thinks she wants and crammed it all into these pages with a step-by-step roadmap of how to get there.
I read it all and feel myself go hard with determination until I hit on something I doubt Lex even noticed.
“There’s a page missing in here. You see it?” I ask, focusing on her second year of college and the edges of torn paper where a page once used to be, replaced by her plans to find a boyfriend with a certain set of requirements.
It really does not escape me that the man she’s detailed here fits Jon perfectly…and is the exact opposite of me.
“Saw that already. Why do you think she’d rip one out? That’s just not her, not if this book is a true measure of exactly how cuckoo Kins really is.”
I can’t say, not really, but I’m betting that whatever got her to rip a page out of this travesty is something that must have really knocked her for a loop.
“This is so fucked.”
“You’re telling me, man. It’s as if she just decided one day to become a freaking robot and make herself an itinerary or schedule or something. Look at this. See here? I was with her the day she did this one.”
I look over at the page he’s turned to and read about the day that she planned to learn how to drive a car without brakes.
“I asked her what her deal was, and you know what she said? ‘Everything has its place.’ She was learning to stop a car without breaks because she didn’t ever want to have to deal with something that may happen unexpectedly and throw her off her life plan. According to Kins, preparation is key, and if you’re prepared, you don’t ever have to worry.”
“What the fuck was she planning for? A damn terrorist attack on her car?” I mutter, tossing the thing onto the coffee table before I do something stupid like burn it.
This shit? Over. Kins may be all determined to live her life to the letter, but she’s in for a rude awakening if she thinks I’ll let her live this way with me.
I like chaos and spontaneous moments. I like waking up and having the freedom to just do whatever the hell I want at any given moment. To live this way…she must be freaking miserable, never having just one moment of unplanned time.
Even her freaking sex life with that douchebag is penciled in there, as if it’s just another chore she needed to cross off her list. Not that I’m complaining about that one since it tells me that she wasn’t in the least passionate about that asshole.
I guess it just pisses me off to look at that crap and realize that Kinsley is in a state of organized misery and has been for years, while the rest of us just lived.
“Christ.”
“Amen, brother, amen. So, please do me a favor and make sure that shit is done, okay. It gives me the fucking willies, thinking about my sister walking around like a robot, just completing the next objective.”
“How…?”
“You remember I told you about how she was this little neat freak when she was younger? No shit, man. She was cleaning her Barbie playhouse when she was four. Mama used to spit nails because, you know Mama, she’s a freaking tornado of disorganized bliss. Anyway, according to Daddy and Mama, Kins was okay about shit up till the year Nana passed. After that, she got all weird about things, like she wasn’t capable of having one minute of chaos in her life. She went nuts one year when she was competing in a poetry thing and someone else won. I mean mental, bro. Daddy had to take her to see a shrink, and he put her on some pills to help her deal with her panic attacks, though God knows what we saw was not panic—just plain old-fashioned rage.”
I remember the yogurt shop. I get it. But what I also understand now is that whatever happens from here on out with my Kins, I’m gonna have to hold the reins tight or she’ll spin out of control.
“I’m not sure she’s going to take to anything so easily, Lex. Jesus, you saw her earlier. She had me hopping to it l
ike a drill sergeant, and I didn’t even want to clean, man.”
“Screw that, bro. My little sister is not living in a pig sty just because you hate order. There’s rebelling against what our lives used to be, and then there’s just plain nasty, man. Keep this place tidy at least, or you’ll have Mama on your ass, too. I’m talking about these weird goals she has set. Did you see the family part of that book? She’s got a son in there first and then a daughter. Can you imagine what she’ll do if she has to have two girls first or some shit?” he asks horrified.
I shudder at that and blow out a breath, my mind racing at what I can do to offset some of my girl’s crazy gene. I can imagine what would happen, and while I know she would never not love one of our kids—
Whoa, whoa, whoa! Where the fuck did that shit come from, huh? Kids? I’m not anywhere near ready to start thinking about kids yet, and for that matter, I’m not even sure what will happen with Kinsley.
Sure, I want her and have every intention of keeping the little screamer, but I’m still not into the whole marriage thing and that would be a big freaking no-no with this family.
Lex and his dad would cut my fucking nuts off if I impregnate Kinsley without putting a rock on her left finger.
“Maybe this isn’t a good idea, Lex. I want her. I just don’t know if I can do the whole marriage thing, and you know her, she’s got her whole life planned out and everything. She’ll slice my dick off if we get serious and I don’t produce the way she expects me to.”
The asshole just smiles and busts out laughing after considering my words, his eyes going dead mean when he stops to look me over.
“Kinsley is my little sister, and I’ve always hoped that she’d find someone to grab the wheel and show her that life is about more than goals and achievement. I don’t know for sure that you’re that guy, King, but I sure as hell don’t know that you ain’t either. So, a little word of warning here, if you go into something with my little sister, you’d better seriously re-evaluate some shit, or I’ll use every skill the Army taught me and make her rages look like she’s a Girl Scout in comparison when I’m done with you. We clear.”
“Crystal.”
“Great! Now, how about that game last Sunday, huh? That QB is a real moron…”
Christ. Well, that sure as hell was not Lex pulling his punches, I think, leaning back with a grimace. He is right though. I can’t do this whole sex slash relationship with her without knowing what to do in the future.
That rubs me raw. I hate making plans but maybe, just maybe, for Kins I can do it this once.
Chapter Nine
Kinsley
Now that I’m free to just do as I please—and by that, I mean taking a quick vacation from my life for a week or two while I wait for my house to be a cop-free zone—I do feel somewhat more relaxed.
So relaxed, in fact, that it doesn’t even hurt a little as I sit on the couch in the clean apartment, failing to read a book on my tablet. I’m not even a little panicky when I think about what’s coming next and the fact that I have no plans.
With King, I kind of understand that we can’t and won’t go anywhere, and as I said, that’s fine. Strange, seeing as I’m still crushing hard on the man, but true none the less.
You see, I have no images and plans for anything for the next few weeks—no marriage plans or mapping out where we’re going to go after the first hot interlude between us.
For once in my life, all I see is us, having sex and enjoying ourselves, before I go back to my real life and start focusing on meeting a man with laser focus.
And that’s totally okay. So okay, in fact, that even though I’ve had my whole life upset with no work, goals, or plans for the foreseeable future, I haven’t had to run to my pills once since I arrived.
I guess my talk with Lenny and the girls set me straight on the whole neurotic planning thing, and according to them, it’s okay to be out of my element for a little while and just enjoy life.
So that’s what I’m planning to do. Starting tonight with some making out and maybe, if I’m lucky, a home run that will put the gross ass sex I’ve been having to shame.
I’m not all that sure about some of the stuff they’ve told me men love because, let’s face it, the thought of someone’s penis in my mouth is just weird. But, after extensive research, and by that I mean copious glasses of wine and cackling about the best technique, I’m going to give it a shot.
According to Evie—who, by the way, looks all innocent and sweet but is actually nasty as hell with that mouth of hers—the dirtier the sex, the better.
She even told me about something she loves to do with her man called wallowing, though Jesus knows it would freak me the heck out to have a man’s face planted in my vagina for hours just because he says he likes being there.
Weird.
But I will try, especially when they started talking about this new cream one of Lenny’s friends got in that makes your junk taste like freaking sweets.
I know, it sounds gross as shit, and I still don’t understand the whole concept of that kind of sex, but okay. We’ll see.
Don’t judge me if I can’t pull it off though, because dammit, I’m factual here. And while I know that women like oral sex and stuff, I’m also realistic. Men make sweeping statements like “you taste so sweet” or “you’re so pretty down here” or whatever, but that cannot be factual.
Come on, people! Haven’t we all seen a vagina? It’s got folds and stuff and it’s pinkish, but it’s not exactly going to win any prizes in the beauty pageant, know what I mean?
Plus, well, I pee out of the thing! Who the hell wants to be down there, especially with his mouth, for hours?
I gotta say, I am not too jazzed about the whole giving head thing either because they pee from there too, and…
Dammit! Lenny told you not to be a freak. She told you that if you’re really into a man and he’s into you, none of that other stuff matters.
God knows I’m into King. I’ve been wet and on the verge of achy all day just thinking about him doing some of that stuff to me, and that’s without remembering what the man can do with his fingers.
Good God, that orgasm was years ago, but part of me can still remember detonating like a rocket when he put one of his fingers inside me and stroked me to release.
I keep that memory in the forefront of my mind now as the door opens and he strolls in, smiling down at me with enough heat to get my panties soaked and too tight.
“You have a good day, babe?”
I nod silently, as he sits down at the end of the couch and grabs my booted foot, pulling it into his lap.
“Good. The girls liked you a lot, even though you’re nuts.” He laughs, making me scowl. “Their words, babe, not mine. Anyway, they liked you and want you over sometime on the weekend. They’re doing some sex-art thing with Kelly and Tina, and they’re picking you up at two on Saturday, I think.”
I don’t respond to his words or the invitation. How can I when he’s stroking at my toes gently, his fingers doing something to my foot that makes the throbbing between my legs intensify to a beat with every stroke he gives.
I want King. I always have, and as he plays with my foot, pushing it into the bulge between his legs, I suddenly understand a tiny bit about what the girls were saying about lust being too strong for me to care about anything but finding relief.
I’ve been this turned on only once in my life and that time was with this very same man.
“I’ve never had good sex!” I blurt out, pulling my foot away to sit up before he can move his hands lower as I saw him doing. I want those hands on me, yes I do, but I need honesty here first and, dammit, maybe just a hint at what to expect since I haven’t lost my personality completely here.
Surprises are not my forte, and neither is the nervous doubt plaguing me. I want just a hint, a clue as to what to expect when we finally do get around to the sex. Just a hint, so that I don’t lose myself in something I’ve only ever seen as a natural it
ch to scratch every now and then.
King pauses in going for my foot and looks up at me from beneath his lashes, that slow smile doing things to my nipples that should be illegal in most states.
“Well, I wouldn’t say that.”
“Oh, shut up about that disaster, you ass. I’m not talking about ten seconds of your famous flick and kiss here, King. I’m talking sex—the whole exploration, kissing certain body parts, and penetration intercourse here. I’ve never done half of the things you’re probably a pro at, and dammit, I am not all that jazzed about oral sex either,” I huff, ignoring the heat in my cheeks.
I’m not into uncertainty, and this is unexplored, unchartered territory for me. What if I don’t like giving head? What if he does the oral thing and doesn’t like mine specifically?
Dammit! See! This is why Jon was so perfect for me. We’d grab some lube, kiss a little, and he’d get to it and get done quickly so that I could do what I wanted for the rest of the evening.
He enjoyed it, and I was happy with not having to expend too much time on it, and it was just…
Dead boring, I think, sighing inwardly. The truth is that he was fine with it because he got to get his rocks off, and I was happy because I was serving a basic function that I saw as necessary in the scheme of things to keep the balance.
The truth is that if I hadn’t understood that men needed sex regularly, I’d have just ignored that part of a relationship and been happy to move on to other things.
“Giving?” he asks slowly, his facial expression making me giggle despite my embarrassment about admitting this to him.
“Both.”
His mouth curves a little, and I roll my eyes when he actually chuckles and leans back, spreading his arm across the back of the couch.
“Babe, that is just plain sad. You’ve never had good oral sex?”
THE WATCHERS: 6 Military Romance Bundle Page 52
