Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
Shane
“Dad, Mom’s on the phone for you.” Taylor stomps down the stairs and thrusts her phone at me. “And try to make it quick because I need to get to work.”
“Why didn’t she just call me?” I ask, taking the phone from her.
“Maybe because you never answer your phone unless it’s me.”
Taylor laughs, and I don’t bother to argue because she’s not wrong. I’m not big on the phone, I can’t stand social media, and I prefer to make a phone call rather than text. So, unless it’s Taylor’s ringtone, I tend to ignore it. The truth is, I couldn’t even tell you where my phone is right now. The thing is old as hell, and I’m shocked it still works.
“Hey, Jamie. What’s up?”
“Shane, how are you?”
“Good. And yourself?”
It’s been several months since I’ve spoken to her, so my guess is, she’s coming into town, and she’d like to spend time with Taylor.
“I’m good. I’m finishing up a documentary in Brazil and then planning to make a trip back to the States. I was wondering if it would be okay if Taylor and I went on a little girls’ trip.”
“You mean a work trip?”
She’s done this before. Tries to turn a work trip into a mother-daughter trip, but it ends with her working around the clock and Taylor being bored, asking to come home.
“No, Shane, an actual vacation with just our daughter and me. Though if you wanted to go, I wouldn’t be opposed.”
I can hear her smirk over the phone, and I mentally roll my eyes. When we were younger, she’d stroll into town, and because I was young and dumb, I’d give in and hook up with her, hoping to put my family back together. I grew up with two loving parents and wanted the same for Taylor.
But then I grew up, saw that Jamie had no intention of settling down and was only looking to scratch an itch, and I put a stop to it, not wanting to complicate shit between us. With Jamie, the lines need to be clear. Otherwise, she’ll try to blur them.
“Where?” I ask, ignoring the not-so-subtle invitation to join them.
While I’ll miss my daughter—if Jamie follows through—a few days of having Kinsley all to myself would be nice. Maybe I’ll even take some days off work so we can do something, just the two of us.
You’re getting ahead of yourself.
She’s barely agreed to see where things go. Planning trips is probably moving too fast for her.
“She mentioned wanting to go to the city. Something about wanting to see a college. I was thinking she could take a few days off school so we could make it a little longer than the weekend.”
“Jamie,” I sigh. “You know how important school is, hence her wanting to visit NYU. That’s where she wants to go to college.”
I know she’s in her own world ninety-nine percent of the time, but would it kill her to pay the smallest bit of attention to the shit our daughter says?
“I’m well aware of where our daughter wants to go to school,” she snaps defensively. “And it’s only a few days. I don’t get to spend a lot of time with her and?—”
“By choice,” I point out, refusing to let her get away with acting like her daughter is being kept from her.
She could spend time with Taylor whenever she wants. She chooses not to come around more than once a year.
“Well, not all of us were destined for the small-town life,” she volleys.
And not all of us were destined for parenthood, I think, but don’t say out loud since Taylor is standing in front of me, begging me with her eyes to say yes.
“I don’t know.”
“Dad,” Taylor groans. “Please.”
She doesn’t see her mom often, and we both know if I say no, it’ll probably be several months before she’s back in the area again.
“I’ll think about it,” I tell them. Then, to Jamie, I say, “Once you know the dates, text them to me, and I’ll look to make sure they don’t interfere with any exams or school functions.”
“Thank you, Dad!” Taylor exclaims, grabbing the phone. “Love you!”
She takes off up the stairs to continue her conversation with her mom while I finish preparing dinner for Kinsley and me. She didn’t invite me to the shop, but she did mention she’d be there, doing inventory, so I figured since she couldn’t come over for dinner, I’d bring dinner to her.
* * *
I called Scott, who let me know Kinsley’s last appointment of the day should be done by six o’clock, so at a quarter till, I head over to Exposed Ink.
“Sorry, we’re—” Kinsley looks up from the desk, but when she sees it’s me, she changes directions. “What are you doing here? Is our appointment tonight?” she asks in confusion.
“Nope.” I lift the cooler I packed. “I brought dinner.”
Her eyes light up in shock and curiosity. “What did you bring?”
I lock the door behind me, switch the Open sign to Closed, and have a seat on the couch. “Come see for yourself.”
Kinsley gets up and joins me while I place the containers of food on the table.
“Whatcha got there?”
She leans over my shoulder, but when I turn to answer her, our faces almost collide. Her eyes meet mine as she drags her tongue along the seam of her lips to wet them.
“Chicken Alfredo,” I say, my eyes not leaving hers. “But right now, I’m thinking the only thing I’m hungry for is you.”
Kinsley’s cheeks heat up a beautiful shade of pink. “Too bad because I forgot to eat lunch, so I’m actually starved for real food.”
“You got it.” I lean in and kiss the tip of her nose and then back away. “Here you go.” I hand her the container and silverware and then pull out the drinks and cups I brought.
“Is that sweet tea?” Her eyes go wide.
“Yep, and it’s homemade.”
“Shane Evans.” She sighs. “You really do know the way to my heart.”
She opens the lid, pours some sweet tea into a cup, and takes a sip.
“Oh my God.” She moans, taking another sip.
“Damn, Kins,” I say with a laugh. “Keep making noises like that, and I’m going to toss you on that pool table and eat you for dinner.”
“Maybe if you’re a good boy and eat all your dinner, you can have me for dessert.” She leans in and brushes her lips against mine. “But I can’t promise how sweet I’ll be.”
She smirks playfully, and stick a fork in me because I’m done.
Sour Kinsley was already a force to be reckoned with.
Sweet Kinsley captured my heart.
But sexy Kinsley … she just might be the death of me.
* * *
“My goodness, that Alfredo was delicious.” Kinsley sets her container down and leans back to rub her food belly.
“I’m glad you liked it. I know Italian is your favorite, so I figured you might.”
Kinsley smiles softly at me. “You’re like the perfect book boyfriend, only you’re real. You’re a good dad and a great cook. You have a noble profession and a cute dog, and you own your own house.”
“But …” I prompt because with Kinsley, there usually is one.
“No buts.” She shakes her head. “I just want you to know how amazing you are.”
“Amazing enough to get your number?” I joke, making her laugh.
“Not that amazing.” She stands and bends over to clean up, but before she can, I reach out and turn her around, pulling her into my lap.
She comes willingly, her thighs resting on either side of me.
“What will it take?” I ask, gripping the curves of her hips and scooting her toward me. “What will it take for you to give me your number?”
“I don’t know,” she breathes. “A number just feels so personal.”
“I got you off in the office of the health club. You can’t get more personal than that.”
“Giving you my number will lead to texting and phone calls, which will lead to talking and making plans and getting to know each other, which will lead to getting serious, and that will end in heartbreak.”
“I won’t hurt you,” I promise, curling my fingers around her nape.
“I know you won’t,” she says softly. “I’m more afraid of hurting you.”
“Don’t be. I’m a big boy, and I can handle whatever you throw at me. I want this, Kins. I want you. I want us.”
I know I agreed to taking it one day at a time with no strings, but I need her to know where I stand.
“I do too,” she admits, shocking the hell out of me.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” she says, wrapping her arms around my neck. “I know we said no promises or labels, but I want them. I’m just scared. I’m damaged, only a shell of myself, and you deserve to be with someone whole.”
“Let me decide what I deserve. I want you, Sour Patch, however I can have you.”
Kinsley looks at me for several seconds and then nods. “Okay, you can have me.”
Before I can ask what she means, her delicate hands cup my jaw, and her lips gently press against mine. The kiss starts off slow but quickly deepens when she exhales a soft moan and I slide my tongue into her mouth.
And suddenly, we’re ravenous.
Our tongues unite.
Our mouths fuse.
“Tell me I can have you,” I murmur against her lips.
She said the words earlier, but I need to hear them again to make sure she’s completely on board with taking this next step.
“I want you,” she says, sliding her hands around to my nape until her fingers are entangled in my hair. “Please, Shane. Tell me that I can have you. ”
I lift her into my arms, and her legs wrap around my waist, and I walk her over to the pool table, setting her on the edge with her thighs spread so I can stand between them.
“Do you know how many times I imagined fucking you on this table?” I tell her as I lift her shirt over her head, exposing her simple black bra.
I plant an open-mouthed kiss on the swell of her breast while I reach around and flick the clasp open. The material falls down her arms, and I’m left with the gorgeous view of her perky tits.
Her nipples are pebbled and begging for attention, so I take one breast into my palm and lean in, wrapping my lips around the hardened tip, sucking and licking it.
“Oh shit,” Kinsley moans, thrusting her chest toward me.
Unless I’m completely off base, it’s been three years since she’s been with a man, so she’s got to be overstimulated and desperate to be taken care of properly. She might’ve gotten herself off over the years, but I know firsthand that using my fist isn’t the same as sinking into a warm, wet pussy.
After giving her other nipple some attention, I gently push her down so she’s lying on the table, looking like a meal that’s only meant for me to enjoy.
I trail kisses down her flat torso until I get to the top of her jeans. I unbutton and unzip them, and then after pulling her Chucks and socks off her feet, I pull her jeans down her legs, leaving her in only a tiny black thong. Then, I take a step back so I can take in the woman in front of me.
“Shane,” she groans. “What are you doing?”
“Admiring you,” I admit. “I’ve been fantasizing about this since the moment I met you, and here you are, giving yourself over to me.”
I take a step closer so I’m between her legs once again, and then I lean down, fisting the back of her head gently and bringing her face up to mine so I can kiss her, taste her. There’s so much I want to do to this woman that I have no idea where to start. What if this is my only time with her? She said she wants promises and labels, but she could change her mind.
“Shane,” she murmurs against my mouth. “Please.”
The desperation in her voice shakes me from my thoughts. If this is the only time I get to be with Kinsley, I’m going to make damn sure it’s a night she never forgets.
While trailing kisses down her neck and along her collarbone, I reach between us and cup her material-clad pussy. I haven’t even touched her down there yet, but I can already feel the wetness.
When my mouth hits the waistband of her underwear, I hook my fingers around the sides, and she lifts so I can slide them down her legs.
I bend so I’m eye level with her neatly trimmed pussy and give it a kiss before I move a little lower and stick my nose between her lips, inhaling her scent.
“Fuck, you smell so good.”
She reaches out and drags her fingers through my hair. “Please, Shane,” she begs.
Separating her lips, I lick up the center, stopping at her clit and giving it some attention.
Kinsley moans in pleasure, telling me she likes what I’m doing, so I do it again and again, until her pussy is dripping onto the edge of the table and she’s practically shaking.
“More,” she commands, fisting my hair and pushing my face toward her when I stop for a second to get a good look at her pink pussy.
“You got it, Sour Patch,” I murmur before I dive back in.
I lick and suck on her swollen clit, and I could easily make her come like this, but I want to give her the more she asked for. So, with my tongue massaging her clit, I thrust one finger, then two into her pussy. It takes a few times before I find the right spot, but once I do, between my tongue on her clit and my fingers in her cunt, she finally lets go, coming long and hard, soaking my mouth and hand as I lap up her juices, trying to memorize the taste of her.
“I feel like this is all very one-sided,” Kinsley mutters as I stand, mentally wondering how I should make her come for a second time.
“As it should be,” I tell her, reaching over and tweaking her nipple. “Tonight is about you.”
“No,” she disagrees. “Tonight is about us .”
She grips the bottom of my shirt and pulls it over my head, then leans in and presses a soft kiss to the area right over my heart. “It’s about the start of something new.”
She unbuttons my jeans and pushes them down my legs, then wraps her hands around my neck and pulls me down to her. “It’s about me accepting that the past happened, that it can’t be changed, but wanting a future with you.”
Her mouth captures mine as her hand slides between us and wraps around my shaft. I could fuck her on the edge of this table, but it won’t be comfortable for her. So, instead, I climb onto it, making her giggle into my mouth.
Our kissing intensifies as I grip her thighs and guide myself inside of her. She’s drenched from her orgasm and so goddamn warm. When I bottom out inside of her, we both moan into each other’s mouth. And then I start to fuck her slowly, not wanting the connection between us to end. Wanting to stay like this, inside of her, for as long as possible.
“Shane,” Kinsley murmurs, breaking the kiss and meeting my gaze with hers. “I promise I won’t break. Please, fuck me harder.”
“Your wish is my command,” I tell her as I drop my hands onto the table on either side of her head.
With the felt of the pool table helping with the traction, I start to fuck her harder, deeper. Her walls clench around my cock like a vise, and too soon, she’s screaming my name as her climax hits, taking me straight over the edge with her.
“God, that was so good,” she breathes as we stay just like this, both of us attempting to catch our breath. “How soon can we do that again?”
I glance up at her and shake my head. “Are you even real?” I ask, wondering how the fuck I got so lucky to have her in my life, in my arms.
While her grief is a part of who she is, she’s so much more than that. She’s sweet and selfless and so goddamn sexy and strong and talented. She has a huge heart that she wears on her sleeve, and it’s the reason why she took the accident so hard. She cares deeply and passionately.
“I am,” she says, palming the sides of my face, “and thanks to you, I finally feel like I’m living my life again.”