Wild Kisses

by Addison Moore

  “Like call an ambulance after I rip your balls off. Are you coming on to me?” She spits it out in a rage before her eyes round out as if she’s just had an epiphany. “Um, actually”—she scoots in close and pulls my arm off the sofa and onto her soft as silk hair—“maybe we should get to know each other. You know, the ins and outs of who we are. After all, we will be working together for quite some time.”

  “You run hot and cold. That’s pretty much all I need to know.”

  She twists into me, apparently affronted by the truth. “Wow, it’s a wonder you ever get laid. Are you always this rude to your guests, or is this something special just for me?”

  Laid? I mouth the word. “Is that what this is about?” Hell, I’m starting to wonder if Jet paid her six grand just to fuck with my head.

  “No.” Her eyes pinwheel for a second. “I just wanted to see if there was a beating heart in that tin chest of yours, and I guess there isn’t.” She yanks her wig off the coffee table and smashes it onto her head before spastically collecting her belongings.

  “Whoa.” I cuff her by the wrists a moment before plucking off her wig and tossing it across the room right into the trashcan. “He shoots—he scores. And don’t tell me it doesn’t belong there.” I place her hands back onto her lap. “Okay, I’m in. Tell me something about you that I don’t know.”

  Piper cuts me a mean look before conforming to the sofa once again. “Contrary to public opinion, I’m not certifiably insane.” Those ice blue eyes flash my way, and my dick ticks like a bomb. “Tell me something about you.” She scowls a moment as if whatever were about to spew from my lips was a bald-faced lie.

  “Contrary to public opinion, I happen to have a beating heart in this tin chest of mine.” I pound my fist over my heart with a little too much vigor and nearly stop it in the process. “Are you always such a—”

  “Bitch?” Her brows peak, amused.

  “I was going to say princess.” Truth.

  Her lips purse with disbelief. She gives me the side eye and looks cute as hell. Piper doesn’t need to try to get my attention. She simply has it.

  “Are you always such a—”

  “Dick?” There’s no need to propagate any other fantasy.

  “I was going to say dick.” She laughs into the admission, and her hip lands next to mine in the process. “Sorry.” She bats that forest of lashes up at me, and my balls wonder why she hasn’t landed in my mattress by now. If Piper were any other girl, I’d swear on my life I could seal this deal in less than a half hour. But she’s not any other girl. She’s simply Piper. Not too sweet, not too spicy—just right. I give a hard blink at the idea of Piper being just right. Right for whom or what, I have no idea.

  “No need to apologize, sweetheart.” I knock back half of my soda before returning the can to the floor. “It’s a wonder you’re still single. What happened to the last guy you dated? You reduce him to ashes after blowing him a kiss?”

  “Very funny.” She pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around her legs. “There is no guy I dated.” Her cheeks burn bright, and as much as I don’t want to believe her, I can tell she’s telling the truth. “What about you?”

  “Nope. No relationships. Don’t do them. Thought about them—decided they were pretty much a shitty idea.”

  “People are full of shitty ideas,” she adds quickly as if we were ganging up on the world.

  “And some of them are certifiably insane.” It comes out a little too serious without meaning to. “So, why no guys? You waiting for Mister Right?”

  “Something like that. How about you? Oh, wait.” She rocks back and forth a second, and her tits ripple right up over the heavy V of her T-shirt. “You’re the love ’em and leave ’em type. Or am I being generous? It’s more fuck ’em and leave ’em, isn’t it?”

  “So crude for such a proper young lady.” My lips twist, struggling to keep that dirty grin from breaking loose. “I don’t kiss and tell.” I cock my head to the side. “So, if you’re up for kissing, just know I’m not planning on telling.”

  Her cheeks glow brighter than my taillights, and I can’t gauge whether or not it’s a good thing.

  “I’m teasing.” I scoot back a few inches to put some distance between us. The last thing I want is Piper feeling like she’s about to get sexually accosted.

  “No, it’s okay. I like kissing.” Her eyes stay fixed at the picture window in front of us. “Is that all guys ever thing about?” Piper rearranges herself until she’s sitting on her knees. “Don’t answer that. I know that’s all guys ever think about. I just wondered if they ever think about other things, too. You know, like having a relationship, falling for someone.”

  “Not any guys that I know.” God’s honest truth right there. “But there are guys who trip and fall in love. They’re called married dudes. Bryson and Ryder are two of them. And isn’t Wyatt practically married to his girlfriend?”

  She gives a reluctant nod. “I guess I see your point. The funny thing is that you framed it as tripping. Tripping is something you do accidentally—it’s a horrible state to be in. Girls actually want to fall in love. For some, it’s even a goal.” She averts her eyes.

  “Is it your goal? I saw you with that guy the other night. The suit?” It’s hard not to laugh when I think about that asshole. “Who the hell wears a suit to a frat party?”

  “I know, right?” She leans in and gives a quiet laugh.

  “It’s nice like this,” I offer. “Especially since we’re both in agreement that the douche you were with the other night is more or less a laughing matter.”

  “That douche is actually my boyfriend.” She wrinkles her nose. “I think?”

  “You think?” My gut sinks at the prospect. “How can you not be sure? You waiting for his letterman jacket, sweetie?” I’m sick at the thought he might actually be sinking his meaty hooks into her.

  “Not really. Jules and Lucille sort of implied it. They’re the captains at Alpha Chi. They thought we’d be a good fit, and they sort of made it a point to let me know they’re batting a thousand with their mad ‘matchmaking’ skills.” She says matchmaking with air quotes.

  Crap. “That’s right. And you don’t want to burn any bridges by ruining their winning streak.”

  “More or less.” Piper shrugs as that dark look shrouds her features again. “Anyway, I don’t want to talk about him.” Her eyes brighten as if someone just flipped a switch. “I want to talk about you. Take off your shirt. I want to see your tats.” She plunges forward and helps evict my T-shirt without giving me much of a say in the matter. Not that I’d protest. This is what I wanted. Isn’t it?

  “God!” She marvels, raking her eyes up and down my body like it is a fine work of art. It is, but I like the admiration she’s pouring over me as that perky little mouth of hers rounds out into a perfect O. “I can’t believe you actually sat there while having all this done.” Her fingers touch down over my abs, and I flinch. “Sorry.” She retracts her hand like pulling it out of a fire.

  “Don’t apologize.” I take her by the fingers and bring her right back to where she was on that bed of designs Jet layered over me. “The guy that worked on yours did all of these. He’s a true artist—as gifted as they come.”

  Her fingers stiffen over me. “I have a broken heart that might contest that.”

  “That’s because you didn’t let him finish.”

  Her fingers ride up over my skin, cool and silky, enlivening my muscles as she bumps across me.

  “And what in God’s name is this?” She giggles like a schoolgirl as she touches over my nipple ring.

  “It’s a bit to keep girls like you quiet.” I’m only half-kidding. It’s been gnawed on a time or two, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say it felt insane.

  “I didn’t think boys like you appreciated a moment of silence.” Her playful gaze meets up with mine. “I’m more of a pad-the-walls-because-there’s-going-to-be-rabid-screaming kind of a girl myself.”
/>   “Let me guess—you’re not the one screaming.”

  “Bingo.” She lands her finger over my lips, and hot damn, I do believe Piper James is trying to seduce me. And yet I’m still not buying it.

  “Okay.” I pluck her finger from my lips, and dot it with a kiss before holding it hostage. “What’s turned you into a roving vixen?”

  Piper pulls her finger free. “I’m starting to think it’s a wonder you get laid at all.”

  “Are we back to that? I’m confused. Are you trying to land me horizontal or Winston?”

  “You know him?” She looks miserably hopeful.

  “Apparently not as well as you do.”

  “I’m pretty sure I know him less than you think.”

  “Back to the question.” This time I’m not letting her off the hook so easy. “What’s this sudden fascination with me?” Ironic, since I should be eating up this free gift like Halloween candy.

  “Trust me”—she backs up, her cutthroat features returning to their proper upright, uptight, positions—“there is no fascination. You guys are all the same with non-stop sex on the brain. Hell, I bet you even named your peeper. Let’s have it. What’s your special name for your Johnson?” Her eyes slit to nothing as if it were the vilest offense. “So what is it? Little Jack Horny?”

  “No, it’s The Big Bad Beast.”

  Now it’s Piper’s turn to flinch.

  I scoot back another few inches, putting some distance between us. “Why all the raunchy conversation?”

  “I’m just being nice,” she snipes.

  “You have a funny way of being nice. You’re a little tease.”

  Piper sucks in a breath so hard, for a second I’m convinced she’s choking. “What did you call me?”

  “A tease.” I stand strong with the accusation, but a part of me knows I shouldn’t. That conversation we had at work last week comes crashing back to me—the one in which she recanted some vague experience under the guise of third person and ended with the words the entire school pegged her a cock-tease. Shit.

  “I can’t fucking believe this.” She scoops up her things and bolts for the door before retracting and digging that wig out of the trash.

  “Piper”—I jump up and block the exit with my body—“I was kidding. Look, you’re sending me mixed signals. One minute, you act like you want to rip my clothes off, which you sort of did by the way.” I touch my bare chest for emphasis. “And the next, you’re biting my head off. Which is it? Are you into me, or are you pissed?”

  She takes a bold step forward as her nostrils flare into my chest. “Out of my way.”

  “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.” I brush the hair off her shoulder, smoothing my fingers over her velvet soft waves. “You’re not a tease. I think whatever this is, it’s starting to snowball, and neither of us knows what direction to take it.”

  Her watery eyes meet up with mine. Piper’s tears shine like cut glass, the red veining in her eyes translate her grief.

  “I’m sorry if I was acting like a tease.” She looks down, and a fiery hot tear falls over my chest. “The truth is, I don’t know how to act around guys. There, I said it. I’ve never had a normal anything with anyone. So, if I’m coming across too strong, just let me know.” Her voice is small and meek.

  I find it impossible to believe that a beautiful girl like Piper doesn’t know her way around a guy or two, not to say she’s slept with any of them. I get the idea of wanting to keep her virtue intact, and I respect it. But just seeing her like this makes me feel bad for her.

  “You’re fine.” I lift her hair off her shoulder, lean in, and take in her vanilla smooth scent. “I guess the reason I went off like that is, I don’t know what you’re doing with me if you’ve got a boyfriend. That’s all.”

  She shudders and cringes as if struggling to keep her anger in check.

  “He’s not my anything, officially.”

  A dull smile rises low on my cheek. “I guess that leaves you free to explore your options.”

  Her lips curve to match mine. Our eyes lock, powerful as steel. “I guess that does.” Her lips press white a moment. “I’d better get going.” She smashes that bad Halloween wig over her head and makes her way out the door.

  It feels as if a hurricane just whipped through here.

  I’m pretty good at reading people, filling in the blanks, and giving them what they need. That’s what makes my little fling-ring so successful.

  But Piper?

  Hell. I don’t know how to begin to read that girl.

  * * *

  Wednesday after working elbow to elbow with Piper for two hours straight at Ryder’s downtown office, she yawns and stretches just as we’re about to call it a day.

  Piper hasn’t tried to claw my eyes out yet, so I’d say everything has gone exceedingly well today. For starters, she’s ditched the bozo look and psychotic come-ons and has reverted to a relatively neutral version of herself. I’d like to think this is the real Piper James, the one I’d get to know should I stick around long enough. And everything in me wants to stick around long enough.

  “You up for dinner? I’m buying.” I toss it out there casually as I slip on my flannel. The temperatures have taken a dip as September gets underway.

  “Dinner?” She looks mildly confused by the concept as she finishes jotting something down.

  I peer over and note she’s brushing up on her…ABCs? “Pop quiz in English?” I’m back to worrying for her just a bit.

  “Very funny.” She wrinkles her nose, but it’s not until those paper blue eyes make contact with mine that my boxers start to twitch. Piper has the power to move me in the most obscene ways with the most innocent gestures. “It’s just something I need to do. It’s stupid really.” She shoves her stuff into her book bag. “But dinner?” Her eyes widen as wheels begin to churn. I’m not sure I like this. Why do I not like this? “Yeah, I’ll do dinner. You mind if I bring a guest?”

  “Not at all.” We head on out, and I can’t help but feel like I’m about to mind in a very big way.

  Piper rode in with Wyatt, so she hops into my truck.

  “Where to, sweetie?” I head down the murky streets of Jepson as the remnants of the sun turns the world to pewter.

  “Think Ink.”

  “Think Ink?” My chest rattles with nerves. “Jet’s not the guest, is he?” Shit. What if she’s into him? That would explain her reluctance with me, but not a whole lot else.

  “Not Jet. Him, I couldn’t care less if I ever see again. My ankle is still pretty pissed at him.”

  As much as I shouldn’t be, I’m elated to hear it. Jet might be like a brother to me, but I’d much rather he find his own girl and keep his ham hocks off mine.

  A sharp heat bites through me. Did I just say that? Piper’s not my girl. She’s not my anything.

  I pull up to the less than desirable neighborhood and park in front of the infernal establishment responsible for turning my flesh into a walking work of art. We get out, and Piper starts walking up and down, observing the winos and the homeless men down and out on their luck. She’s got a strange look on her face, the same strange, deranged look she was sporting while wearing that nightmare on her head.

  “You lose something?” I ask, trying to pull her away from the row of dirty men, half of them ogling her at this point, and I bet they’re wondering what she charges.

  “Not yet.” She shoots a look to my truck as if whatever endeavor she’s about to embark on is about to happen unwillingly. “Excuse me, sir?” she says a little too loud to an older gentleman with a knit cap and an old tweed suit. He looks grungy, troubled, but I can’t smell the liquor coming off him, so I’m okay with the exchange for now. I’d interrupt and ask what this is about, but, knowing Piper, I’m sure she’d rather I find out the hard way.

  “Can I help you?” He pecks his head from me to Piper, slightly stunned with that I-just-woke-up daze about him.

  Piper offers a quivering smile. “My boyfriend and
I would love to take you to dinner. How about it? You up for a nice juicy steak?”

  “What the hell?” I pull her to the side by the elbow. “Have you lost your freaking mind?”

  She hikes up on her tiptoes. “Relax!” She snipes, nearly biting my nose off. Her eyes are wild and squirrely. “I’m simply telling him you’re my boyfriend, so he feels more comfortable with the situation.”

  “What situation?” Shit. Do I need to have the sheriff’s department on speed dial? This chick is panning out to be certifiable. I swear, if this turns out to be some kinky shit she’s hoping the three of us can engage in, all bets are off. I want nothing to do with the six grand. Hell—I want nothing to do with Piper. I’ll drive her straight to Wyatt’s ranch, and he can cage her up like the rest of the animals for all I care. This chick is a loon.

  “Dinner!” she hisses. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch, sweetheart.” She says that last word with a touch too much sarcasm. Great. Now she’s mocking me. Just what I’ve always wanted, a batshit “girlfriend” who likes to toss my balls in the air and catch them with her teeth just for the hell of it.

  “What?” I try my best to whisper. “Where is your head? He could be a fucking psycho.”

  “My head is right where it needs to be,” she hisses. “I’m taking some good advice and being my nice self!”

  “Next time someone gives you the advice to be yourself, don’t take it.”

  She swats me across the chest. “This is my treat. If you play nice, you can have a steak, too.” Her voice bounces over the deserted street so loud it comes back as an echo.

  The old guy stands, wild-eyed, as he collects his bloated pillowcase. “I’m in. I haven’t had a steak in six years. Do they still use cow?”

  Great. Just great.

  I drive “Pete” and Piper over to the Steak Shack, where upon her request we hit the drive-through.

  “We’ll be eating at a second location,” Piper says loud and staggeringly slow to the poor guy we’ve just hijacked off the mean streets of Jepson.

  “Oh, boy!” Pete rubs his fingerless gloved hands together as if warming himself by a fire. “Am I ever hungry for a nice-and-juicy!”