by Kate Kinsley
He nodded. “Correct. No.”
I shook my head, baffled. “Why not?”
His frown told me it was none of my business even before he opened his mouth. “Seriously, why the fuck are you over here all the time?”
I drew back at that.
His grumpy demeanor, I could handle. But this—this felt different. Angry. Purposefully hurtful.
I knew I could be a lot to handle sometimes. Overly sunshiny even on the darkest days. But asking if he wanted to take a walk shouldn’t warrant this reaction.
Once I’d recovered from the shock of his verbal attack, I was still speechless. Meanwhile, he waited for an answer to what I guessed wasn’t a rhetorical question. That being, why was I here?
I didn’t have an answer for him.
Oh, I had many reasons for coming here, but not one I wanted to admit to him.
Ninth grade me had had a huge crush on Michael Timmerman, the football star and resident bad boy who drove the Camaro with the muffler so loud we could hear him from blocks away. I’d sneak peeks at him in the hallway from behind the door of my locker, fantasizing about his coming up to talk to me.
I’d fantasized about more than that too, imagining my own version of the Cinderella story where the bad boy would fall for a nerd like me, ask me on a date, and be my first kiss.
Be my first for something else too. Because if he’d asked me back then, I’d have given it to him. My virginity and anything else he wanted.
I’d have done anything for him—until he broke my heart. First, by not knowing I existed. Second by graduating and leaving town forever. Except that forever turned out to last just over twenty years and now he was back.
It was obvious why seeing him again now made the sex-deprived thirty-eight-year-old me stand up and take notice. The attraction was still alive and well inside me.
So much so I’d actually broken out the personal pleasure device my friends at the shelter had gotten me as a gag gift for my thirty-fifth birthday. Good thing there was no expiration date on those sorts of things. Even three years later, with a set of fresh batteries, it had worked just fine.
Oh boy howdy had it worked fine.
The overwhelming reality was, this was all information I needed to keep to myself. In the vault. Until death. But my libido wasn’t the only reason I was here.
There was something else that kept me coming back. I really and truly believed Zeus and Michael needed each other. They were both wounded warriors. They could help each other heal.
Somehow, I didn’t think Michael would like that excuse either. Which left me with a whole lotta nothing.
All I knew was I needed to say something, or risk him tossing me to the curb—literally.
“I like spending time with you,” I blurted, as the deepening of his scowl flustered me.
Uh oh. Wrong answer. Anger darkened his blue eyes as he glared at me. “I don’t need your fucking pity.”
I drew my brows low. “It’s not pity—”
“Then what is it? I never talked to you even once in my life but now, when I’m back and with only one fucking foot, you’re all over me. I’m not one of your stray dogs from the shelter you have to rescue. So leave me alone.” His tone was harsh. His features contorted with emotion.
My hurt was quickly replaced by anger at his complete lack of understanding and gratitude for what I was trying to do for him.
Couldn’t he see I only wanted to help?
I planted both hands on my hips as Zeus sat, pressed against my leg and let out a soft whine. “I’m not here because you only have one foot.”
“No?” He scoffed. “Bull shit.”
“I told you the truth. I like spending time with you.”
“Yeah, sure. Because women are just lining up to go out with me since I got home.”
I let out a huff. “Well, maybe if you weren’t so mean and anti-social, they would be. You ever think of that? Huh? You know, it doesn’t matter how hot you are if you scare everyone away.”
To my surprise he quirked up one brow. “You saying you think I’m hot, little miss bleeding heart?”
Uh oh. I had said that, hadn’t I?
“Um, no—well, yes, but—that’s not the point,” I stuttered.
He folded his arms, his stare firmly planted on me as he waited me out.
I couldn’t stand the silence. I drew in a breath. “Okay, fine. Yes. I had a huge crush on you in ninth grade and it seems it hasn’t completely gone away. Are you happy now?”
“Not yet, but I’m getting there.” The deepening timbre of his voice cut straight through me, settling somewhere deep inside my core, filling what was empty and hollow with a feeling of warmth.
The old metal chair in which he sat scraped against the peeling porch floor as he stood.
One step, then another, put him so his body almost touched mine. He seemed even taller this close.
Then he bent, his head near mine as he grasped my chin between his thumb and forefinger.
I gasped. From his closeness. From his touch. From the one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn this conversation had taken.
“Do I scare you?” he asked, looking as if he enjoyed the thought.
“Would it make you happy if you did?”
He laughed as he braced his hands on the railing behind me, bracketing me in, trapping me between the old wood and his hard body.
The position put him closer to me. His head lower, his mouth just an inch away for a second before he sucked in a breath and then crushed his lips against mine.
Rough. Demanding. He fisted my hair and thrust his tongue against mine. His leg was between my thighs, pressing in just the right spot to make me let out a small sound of pleasure and seek more friction.
Breathing heavily, he broke the kiss and spat, “Fuck.”
I was reeling and breathless but my brain managed to register that something was wrong.
What had happened? Did he regret kissing me already?
I pulled back and glanced up. “What?”
“The old lady next door is hiding behind the curtain watching us.” He tipped his head toward the neighboring house.
“Binoculars Brimley,” I grit out between clenched teeth.
I scowled and, regretfully, took another step back from Michael, pissed I was being cock blocked by the self-appointed neighborhood watch.
I glanced up—way up—at him. Damn, he was tall. And handsome. And solid, his chest muscles like rocks. I liked it.
Focus. I needed to move this somewhere private. My body wasn’t nearly satisfied. One kiss had only made the craving worse.
“Where’s your father?” I asked.
“At the stock auction. Why?” His lips twitched with a smile. “You saying you want to come inside, little girl?”
He made me feel like a girl again. Like that fifteen-year old with a crush on him.
That crush was alive and well and unlike then, now Michael actually knew my name. And he wanted me, judging by the bulge in his pants big enough that even from next door Mary must be getting an eyeful.
I swallowed, steeled my nerve and said, “Yes, I do.”
His nostrils flared as he drew in a deep breath. His gaze cut to Zeus. “He be okay if we leave him alone in the living room?”
“Yes.” The word sounded breathless.
I was having trouble filling my lungs with enough air as it became apparent to me that Zeus would be alone in the living room because I’d be alone with Michael in his bedroom.
In his bed.
I swallowed hard. My belly, and parts lower, twisted with desire, as my heart pounded.
“Good.” Michael looked as anxious as I was to get inside.
He turned the knob and flung the front door wide, stepping back so Zeus and I could go in first.
Mary Brimley was going to have a boatload of gossip now. And I was too damn needy to care.
Chapter Five
It was like stepping back in time. The bedroom had shelves lined with tro
phies and ribbons. Pictures and awards. Unchanged since his graduation.
But things had changed. Michael had changed.
He stood in front of me and reached for the button on his cargo pants, but then paused. He lifted his gaze to mine.
I saw his bare chest rise and fall with the breath he drew in and blew out.
Finally, he said, “I haven’t done this since . . .” He tipped his head toward the ground. “You know.”
I was at a loss for the right thing to say.
There had to be a book or website or something. I needed some sort of guidance. If I said or did the wrong thing, this would be over before it began. I felt that truth to my bones.
Maybe the best thing to do was not talk at all. My mouth had gotten me in trouble before. Best not to risk it. Not now when I was so close to getting what I wanted. What I craved.
I got up from where I’d sat on the bed and walked slowly toward Michael.
With the first step, I reached for the bottom of my T-shirt that read Mudville Shelter—We’re into S&N (Spaying & Neutering).
I pulled it up and over my head, before letting it drop onto the floor.
The next step, I reached for the button, then the zipper of my khaki shorts, pushing them down my legs and leaving them on the floor as I stepped out of them.
I’d chosen my prettiest white lace undies and bra when I’d gotten dressed this morning. Not that I’d expected this to happen tonight. Hoped, definitely. Orchestrated, perhaps. Assumed, never. But I was glad I had them on now.
I tried not to be self-conscious as his gaze dropped to take in all of me.
My boobs could be bigger. My stomach could be flatter. My thighs could definitely be thinner and firmer.
But Michael’s head-to-toe perusal didn’t make me feel insecure. Quite the opposite. He made me feel beautiful. Sexy. Desired.
And my little striptease had gotten me the desired outcome. He reached for his button again, without hesitation this time and moved toward the end of the bed.
He pushed his pants down to his thighs before he sat on the edge of the mattress and pulled them the rest of the way off.
I didn’t completely avoid looking at the metal that attached just below his knee, but I didn’t stare either. I didn’t want it to be a big deal, even though, let’s be real, it had altered his life forever.
He sat and waited and watched me. I liked the idea of his watching me as I walked—strutted really—to where he sat.
I dropped to my knees and pushed his knees wider.
He planted his legs farther apart. I didn’t have to work too hard to ignore the metal prosthetic. I was too distracted by Michael, half naked, aroused and ready.
I leaned in closer, my fingers hooked inside the waistband of his black boxer briefs.
He was visibly breathing heavier as I eased his underwear down. Reaching inside, I freed the hard length already straining to get out.
Michael mumbled a curse as, my eyes locked on his, I leaned down and ran my tongue over his tip.
His eyes slammed closed and his mouth fell open as I engulfed the full length of him. He palmed the back of my head and pressed deeper, groaning as he bottomed out in my throat.
“I’m not gonna last,” he gasped.
I hadn’t expected him to. More than that, I felt like I’d die if this man didn’t touch me soon. I was definitely going to have to buy more batteries.
Cupping his balls, I quickened the pace, struggling to breathe and accommodate the length of him in my mouth at the same time.
The fingers of both hands gripped my hair as he thrust forward once, twice, three times, before the hot spurts hit the back of my throat.
We were both panting when I eased off him and leaned back on my knees.
He dropped his hold on my hair but he wasn’t done yet.
Standing, he pulled me to my feet, turning me so my back was to the bed. He lifted and tossed me onto the mattress. My underwear disappeared as he yanked them down and tossed them to the floor.
Shoving my legs wide, he leaned between them and then the wait was over. The agony of unfulfilled desire was replaced by the feel of his mouth on me.
He latched onto my core while sliding two fingers inside, sending me writhing, grasping for the bedsheets, needing something, anything, to anchor me as the pleasure put me into a tailspin.
I cried out when he pressed those fingers up and sucked hard on my clit.
As my muscles clenched, I bucked beneath him.
When the spasms started, I couldn’t control myself. I came so hard and loud it would be a miracle if Mary Brimley and her Miracle Ear listening device didn’t hear me as clear as day.
When the orgasm finally subsided, Michael flopped onto his back next to me on the mattress where I lay boneless.
“Wow,” I breathed.
He let out a breath tinged with a laugh. “Yeah.”
I turned my head on the mattress. “Just so you know, if this is the result, I’m going to be here bothering you again tomorrow. And the next day. Okay?”
He rolled his head to the side to meet my gaze. “Okay.”
Oh, yeah. Victory was mine. And all the orgasms—they were mine too.
The sound of a door closing had my eyes widening.
That ominous sound was followed by, “Michael!”
Oh, shit. Naked and caught by Michael’s dad. Things couldn’t get much worse than that.
Zeus barked and I realized things had a way to go yet before we hit rock bottom.
“Whose fucking dog is in the living room?” Mr. Timmerman bellowed before flinging open the bedroom door.
I shouldn’t have been surprised at that. Cranky old man Timmerman had never struck me as a man who would respect a closed door, particularly not in his own house.
Jesus. The situation began to fully hit me. I was half naked in old man Timmerman’s house.
But I’d already foreseen this could happen, the moment I heard that door slam. And luckily, I’d rolled off the side of the bed, scooped up my clothes and was currently trying to wiggle my shorts back on while hiding behind the mattress.
Michael, thank God, had tucked himself back inside his underwear so at least his dick wasn’t hanging out.
He was, however, in his room, mostly undressed, with a female. A fact that Mr. Timmerman—red-faced from embarrassment or anger, I wasn’t sure—had noticed.
Cool as a cucumber, Michael bent and scooped his pants and shirt off the floor. Holding them in one fist, he met his father’s glare without flinching. “The dog is Stephanie’s.”
That had the old man zeroing in on me as I squatted on the floor. I was dressed, finally, and apparently I wasn’t hiding very well, so I stood.
Besides, I needed to clarify the situation. The next portion of my plan depended on it. “Actually, he’s from the shelter. We’re looking for his forever home.”
Mr. Timmerman scowled as deeply as Michael had the first time I’d said forever home to him. I didn’t see anything wrong with the phrase. Hell, everyone used it. Everyone loved it. Everyone except for the Timmerman men, apparently.
I couldn’t be concerned about that now. I had a few other things to worry about. One being I really wished Michael would put his pants on.
Finally, he sat on the edge of the bed again and began the process.
I would have thought his father would have the decency to leave. Give his adult son some privacy. He didn’t.
He stood in the doorway, watching as Michael pulled his pants first up one leg, then over the prosthetic.
Michael ignored the man standing there. He stood and slipped on his T-shirt before turning to me. “Come on.”
I was more than happy to go. I scurried to his side—and almost fainted when he took my hand in his.
“I’m gonna walk Stephanie home,” he said, then steered me past his father, who stood speechless in the doorway.
“Bye,” I said, as Michael tugged me along.
Zeus looked as ready to lea
ve as I was. He jumped to his feet, tail wagging as he trotted to the door.
“I hear you, boy,” I whispered as I hooked his leash on his collar.
Michael opened the door and waited for me and Zeus to walk past before calling inside, “Be back later. Don’t wait for me for dinner.”
Did that mean he and I would be eating dinner together? I wondered as we walked to Main Street. Distracted by the question, I forgot to check if Mary Brimley was watching out her window.
I was so engrossed in the thought that I must have been staring. Michael glanced sideways at me and said, “What?”
“What what?” I asked, startled by the question.
“You’re looking at me funny. Like you want to ask me something.”
Only about a dozen things. I decided to stick to the one. “You’re not going to eat dinner with your dad. So, uh, what are you going to be doing?”
One brow cocked up. “Don’t you worry. I’ll be eating something.” He delivered that proclamation with a devilish smirk.
The only response I had as my cheeks heated was, “Oh.”
I also might have picked up the pace a bit, but he reached out and grabbed my arm. I stopped immediately. Had I gone too fast for him?
“Wait here.” With that, he sprinted across the road and disappeared into the gas station.
Apparently walking fast wasn’t an issue if he could run like that.
When he returned with a small bag, held it up and announced, “Condoms,” I knew the reason for the burst of speed.
Excitement tempered my nerves and defeated any remnants of embarrassment.
This was happening. Twenty years after I thought it would, but it was happening, nonetheless.
Chapter Six
“You’re gonna have to tell me where you live,” he said as we continued to stand on the sidewalk, not moving.
“Oh. Oh, yeah. Of course. Sorry. It’s just this way.” I was babbling. And he was smiling.
“You’re nervous,” he said.
“No,” I lied.
Again Michael proved himself a master interrogator and waited me out.
Finally, I admitted, “A little.”
“Don’t worry that it’s been a while. It’s just like riding a bike.”
