Two Hearts Born to Love (Choices: Tarkio MC Book 3)

by Debra Kayn

  She ripped at his T-shirt, pushing her hands underneath. Spreading her fingers against his abdomen, she sucked on his tongue and closed her eyes. His hard body was the perfect size for her.

  Big and powerful.

  Strong and steady.

  He spanned her ribcage with his hands and lifted her off the floor. She wrapped her legs around his waist. Her head now higher than his, she cupped his face and deepened the kiss, taking charge.

  The velvety warmth of his tongue stroked hers. Her body tingled. She clasped onto his beard, holding him close.

  Her body tilted. She opened her eyes as he put her on a couch. His mouth left her, and his body moved down hers, spreading her legs. Her knees fell to the sides.

  Wyatt hooked his finger in her panties, and not taking the time to remove them, pulled the crotch to the side. He licked her pussy from bottom to top, rolling over her clit with his tongue.

  Her body arched. She reached above her head and fisted a pillow, a moan erupting out of her. His tongue went everywhere in deliberate strokes, not for her, but for him—which was beyond her biggest turn-on ever. His eagerness and enjoyment intoxicated her.

  He slid his hands under her butt, pushing her jean skirt up to her waist and finding the top of her panties. She pressed her feet into the couch, lifting her middle off the cushion underneath her.

  Wyatt's mouth left her, and he ripped the panties from her body and tossed them over his shoulder. She panted, breathing heavily.

  The light from the kitchen gave her a view of his face right before he dove back between her thighs, and his tongue assaulted her. She bit down on her lip to keep from moaning loudly.

  It was hard to believe she was here. He was here. She was doing this. He was doing that.

  Her lower stomach tightened. She held her breath, holding back her orgasm.

  He wouldn't let her.

  Lapping his tongue, concentrating on the tight nub, he held her lower body prisoner. Warmth swirled inside of her. She panted, unable to hold back.

  Her thighs clamped down on his head. Bucking against his mouth, she hissed, losing control.

  Her climax came fast and heavy, pitching her head off the cushion. She strained, her whole-body vibrating. Grabbing his hair, she held him against her pussy and rode out her orgasm until her muscles released her, and she fell back against the couch.

  Wyatt got up from between her legs, undid his belt, took a condom out of his wallet, and shoved his jeans to his thighs. Rolling on the protection, he gazed at her. She had no energy to close her legs in embarrassment.

  He wiped his face off on the shoulder of his T-shirt, lowered himself on top of her, and captured her mouth. She had no time to react from the slight taste of her on his lips, and he slid his cock inside of her. She gasped, pulling herself out of the kiss.

  Wyatt held still. "Okay?"

  "Yeah." She puckered her lips and blew a steady stream of air from her lungs. "I...yi, yi, yi."

  His gaze intensified, and he pumped his hips. The arousal that'd calmed inside of her woke up. She hooked her ankles behind his thighs and moved underneath him.

  Her eyelids closed, and she forced them open. Sensitive from reaching her high, every thrust of his hardness stole every bit of control she had left.

  She grabbed at his ribs, trying to brace against each plunge. Her thighs quivered, and she moaned, bringing her head up and biting his shoulder to keep from screaming.

  He. Took. Her. There. Again.

  Clawing at his back, she arched her neck, looking for his mouth. He found her. She stroked his tongue as he stroked her pussy.

  His movements grew stronger, faster. She held on and mumbled against his mouth. Incoherent words only she knew the meaning of and came hard for the second time.

  He pushed up on his arms, glancing down between their bodies, and then buried himself inside of her. She held him as he climaxed. His shudder ran through her.

  After several minutes or maybe it was seconds, she couldn't be sure, he lowered himself down and rested his heavy weight on her. Looping her arm around his head, she squeezed her eyes shut, knowing that for her first one-night stand, it would never be more, and any sex in the future with someone else would never compare to the night she went home with Wyatt Carr.

  She had a crush, an incredible admiration for the sexy guy in the apartment complex. For one night, she'd lived one of her fantasies.

  Wyatt inhaled deeply, pushed off her, and stumbled to his feet. He walked across the living room to the hallway, weaving with each step. She sat up, straining to hear what he was doing. Because of the layout of the apartment, she recognized the hollow sound of footsteps on the linoleum in the bathroom.

  Swallowing hard, she looked around the living room. There were clothes piled everywhere. A boy's bicycle sat in the corner. A couple of basketballs rested against the entertainment center on the floor. A purple lava lamp stuck out of a box. There was an empty Life cereal box on the coffee table.

  Remembering why his place was a mess and the reminder that he was a dad to two teenagers, she scurried off the couch. Not wanting to face him, she pulled her skirt down to her thighs and slipped out of the apartment.

  Outside, she speed-walked to her car. She drove down to the next apartment unit and parked in her regular spot. Looking toward his place, she hurried to the door and shut herself inside.

  He probably wouldn't even remember having sex with her in the morning.

  Chapter 5

  Wyatt

  MUSIC BLARED IN THE apartment. Wyatt stormed down the hallway, kicking the kids' belongings out of his way. He'd told Jess and Travis to stay inside and put all their stuff in their rooms, and he saw no progress.

  Scooping up a pile of dirty towels, he said, "Where's your brother?"

  "I don't know." Jess sat on the floor in front of the television, turning the knob.

  "Was he on the bus after school?" He tossed the towels in the hamper.

  "I think so."

  "Jess..." He growled. "He's your brother. You're supposed to keep an eye on him."

  "He's thirteen, Dad. I'm not his keeper." Jess scooted backward and pulled herself up on the couch.

  "It's a new school—"

  "We've been going for two weeks. He knows his way around, and if he misses the bus, it's only a mile walk to the apartment." Jess sighed loudly. "What's for dinner?"

  "Pizza." He walked into the kitchen, took the change jar off the shelf, and not taking the time to count the quarters, slipped a handful of coins in his pocket. "It's on the counter. If it's cold when Travis gets home, it'll need to go in the oven. Only five minutes. You want to warm it, not burn it."

  Jess lifted her head off the arm of the couch. "Where are you going? You're not leaving me, are you?"

  "I'll be at the rec center, doing laundry. It's starting to stink in here." He met her gaze, waiting for her to offer to go wash the clothes or help out. "Since you don't want to help, go look around for your brother. Maybe he's hanging with some of the kids who live in the complex."

  "Whatever." She hung her feet over the couch and awkwardly scooped up her shoes, using her toes.

  "You need to stop giving lip." He softened his voice. "We're all doing this together. Let's act like a family and give each other a break, yeah?"

  Jess hobbled toward him, pushing her feet into the shoes, and hugged his waist. "Sorry, Daddy."

  He kissed the top of her head. "I'll tell you what. Find your brother while I go put a load of laundry in the machine, and then I'll come back and put the pizza in the oven. Sound good?"

  "Yes." Jess opened the door.

  He followed his daughter outside. She went one way. He went the other.

  The three apartment units took up two blocks with a parking lot on the south side and vacant wooded land on the north. A rec center in Unit A took up half the ground floor. Besides the laundry facilities, there was a large room with a pool table, ping pong table, and fold-up chairs where the renters could reserve the room
for family get-togethers, birthday parties, and where the older crowd gathered during the day to play bingo and pinochle.

  He always tried to do the laundry around dinner because that was the time with the least amount of people around. With the kids living with him, he'd need to split up chores soon. There would be more laundry, more dirty dishes, more mess.

  And he couldn't expect the kids to eat pizza every fucking night.

  Inside the rec center, he ignored the elderly congregated in groups and slipped into the laundry room. There were only three washers, not enough for everyone in the complex if they all chose to do laundry on the same day.

  Finding one machine empty, he dumped in the detergent, then the clothes, and put the right amount of money in the coin slot. He left the empty hamper and walked out.

  His kids needed rules. They couldn't expect to run wild around the apartments whenever they wanted. Jess was the oldest and more mature than Travis. His son still acted on emotions and often failed to grasp reality, and that worried him.

  Since their mom had died, Travis had shut down. It was okay to be angry and sad, and Travis could take the circumstances out on him if he wanted, but when his son purposely disobeyed him, and he had no way to find his son when he ran off, that was a problem.

  Where would a thirteen-year-old boy go?

  He walked around the apartment building and looked out in the woods. Hell, he could be anywhere.

  Travis wasn't a baby. He had the right to do his own thing on his own time. But right now, he wanted his kids close. Having been on his own as a teenager while his mom worked, he'd raised hell. Along the way, there wasn't a drink or drug he hadn't tried and plenty of girls at his disposal.

  He'd survived, but he wanted better for his kids.

  Not seeing Travis, he walked around the building, looking on other people's balconies, behind their cars, under the bushes. Any place a kid could hide.

  Ahead of him, Jess walked backward out of someone else's apartment. "I'll go ask and be right back."

  Unable to see who his daughter was talking to, he continued walking toward her. Jess darted in the opposite direction without seeing him. He whistled, stopping her.

  Jess whirled around. Her face lit up in surprise, and she jogged to him. He softened her landing when she flung herself at him.

  "Did you find your brother?" he asked.

  She nodded. "He's with the manager."

  "What's he doing there?" He glanced over Jess's shoulder.

  He'd only met the old guy once when he'd filled out an application two years ago, prior to moving in. Since he fixed any of the repairs that came up inside his place on his own and dropped his rent in the slot in the door every month, he never had a need to seek out the manager.

  "He was invited to have dinner, and I was asked, too. Can we stay and eat?" Jess's hold on his shirt tightened. "It's spaghetti and garlic bread."

  "We're having pizza," he said.

  "Dad, we can have pizza any night. It's spaghetti." Her eyes rounded as if someone offered her one of her three wishes. "Please?"

  He couldn't deny his daughter something as simple as a dinner that he had no idea how to cook. "You and Travis can eat dinner with the manager. Remember your manners."

  "Dad." She groaned. "I always do."

  He grabbed her arm when she moved away to go back inside. "Let me thank the manager first before you interrupt his evening again."

  "Her," said Jess.

  "Huh?"

  "The manager is a lady." Jess shook her head. "Didn't you know that?"

  "No." He walked with her. "I must've met her husband when I got the apartment."

  He also wanted to talk with Travis and make sure they were on the same page about him running off every time he turned his back.

  At the open door, he held Jess back from barging in and knocked. A few seconds later, Travis walked to him from inside the apartment.

  The tangy aroma of sauce greeted him. His stomach growled.

  "Dad, did Jess ask you?" Travis patted his flat stomach. "Can we stay?"

  "If it's okay with the manager, but only if you wash your dishes afterward. Don't leave a mess behind." He grabbed the back of his son's shirt and brought him closer, lowering his voice. "We're going to have to talk about you running off. That's not going to fly with me."

  Travis frowned and looked at his feet. Their mother had let them both run wild, and while he understood what it was like being a teenager, he needed to know what they were doing and where they were going. It hadn't hit them fully that they'd lost their mom, and when reality came crashing down, he needed to know he could get to them.

  One minute, they were kids, acting like kids, and the next, they were rolled in a ball crying. He couldn't predict what emotion would come out next, and he wanted to be close in case they needed him.

  "Are you listening?" he asked.

  "Yeah." Travis shrugged his shoulders, breaking away from Wyatt's grasp.

  "Alright, now go tell the manager's wife that I'd like to thank her for inviting you both to dinner."

  Both of his kids went inside. Out of his view, they talked to someone behind the kitchen wall. There was still a lot to do before his mom picked up the kids in the morning and kept them at her house for the night, giving him a break. The last two weeks seemed like six months. This time, he wasn't going to drown out his problems during his break. He needed to whip the apartment into shape and get control of his life. Hopefully, it'd help the kids settle in better.

  A woman walked around the wall toward him. Surprised not to see an old woman shuffling to the door in her house slippers and pushing a walker, he ogled her stride—enhanced by bare legs and feet. His gaze traveled up her body to a half-shirt football jersey that hid nothing. If she shifted and raised her arms, he'd be able to see the swell of the underside of her breasts peeking out from the bottom of the shirt.

  "Hello," said the woman.

  He raised his gaze to her face. Caught off guard, expecting someone else, he stared. She looked familiar, but if he knew her, he would've had her. There was no way he'd let a woman looking like that walk away from him.

  He held out his hand. "I'm Jess and Travis's dad."

  She hesitated and then rushed to shake. "Joey."

  "Joey?" he murmured, tilting his head. "Do I know you?"

  "We..." She looked over her shoulder into the apartment, then faced him. "No. I don't think so."

  He grunted, unable to stop staring. She was wrong. He'd met her. Give him a few minutes, and he'd figure it out.

  "The kids are welcome to stay for dinner." She hooked a long strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "I can't make a small amount of spaghetti to save my life. There's more than enough."

  "Nice of you." He gazed at her blue eyes. "Send them home when they've helped you clean up."

  "Oh, that's not necessary." She inhaled deeply and raised her brows, waiting for him to either continue the conversation or leave her to get back to the kitchen.

  Because he still hadn't figured out where he'd met her before, he said, "Are you the daughter of the manager?"

  Her gaze softened. "Granddaughter. My grandpa passed away almost seven months ago. He left me the apartments, and I decided to move here and manage the business."

  "Sorry to hear about your grandpa." He cleared his throat, understanding why his kids were drawn to her.

  Joey looked to be around twenty-five years old. She spoke softly and appeared upbeat. It wasn't only the spaghetti that attracted the kids to stay.

  "I'll let you get back to dinner." He stepped back. "Thanks again."

  "You're welcome," she said softly, then closed the door.

  He looked back at the apartment. Dayum.

  His kids were the lucky ones tonight. A pretty woman. All her attention. Eating with Joey was probably the best thing they'd gotten to do in a long time.

  Chapter 6

  Joey

  AEROSMITH PLAYED ON the boombox in the kitchen. Joey reached behind he
r and grabbed her ankle, stretching her quadricep. She'd slept awful last night.

  She needed to loosen all her muscles before heading over to the bar. So as not to piss off the same players each week, she'd gone over to The Corner Tavern across town last Friday. The pot had only been two hundred and fifty dollars, but she'd walked away winning each game she'd played.

  Tonight, she'd go back to Riverside Bar and play for the night's five-hundred-dollar win.

  Shaking her hands, she picked up her glass and finished the rest of the water. Ever since Wyatt had shown up at her apartment last night, she couldn't get her body to calm down.

  She thought for sure he'd recognize her if they came face to face. It wasn't until after his kids had left had she realized she looked nothing like the night of their one-night stand. She'd had no makeup on, and her hair hung naturally with no hairspray to get any volume. Wearing shorts and a football jersey was a far cry from dressing sexy in heels.

  Dumping the ice cubes in the sink, she set the empty glass on the counter. It was probably for the best that Wyatt failed to remember their night at his apartment. Even though she admitted to herself, she was disappointed.

  She warmed, thinking of his kids as they ate dinner with her. It wasn't something she'd planned. Travis had almost barreled into her as she'd packed the groceries into the apartment. Losing her grip on the paper bag filled with bread, Wyatt's son had stopped and helped her carry the food into the apartment.

  He was such a nice boy and hung around, asking her questions while she'd put the noodles on to boil. She could tell by the way he kept looking at the stove that he was hungry. Then, Jess had shown up looking for her brother.

  Afraid Wyatt wasn't home to feed the kids, she'd invited them to stay. She never expected Wyatt to show up.

  Seeing him again, she'd almost orgasmed on the spot.

  He was no less sexy. No less manly. No less intimidating seeing him again.

  She should've known her crush wouldn't go away after what she'd done. Groaning, she blew the hair out of her eyes. Memories of being with him ran through her mind regularly for the last two weeks.