Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
Kinsley
“You’re really not going to give me your number?” Shane looks at me incredulously from the driver’s seat of his truck. “I gave you not one, but two orgasms, and I still haven’t earned your number?”
“I mean, the orgasms were good,” I say with a smirk. “But I’m just not ready for that level of commitment yet.”
I shrug, and he chuckles.
Shane ended up staying while I did the inventory. We listened to music, argued over whose playlist was better, and talked about nothing of importance. We laughed and flirted, and it felt nice … comfortable. The way it always does with Shane.
“Whatever,” he grumbles before he gets out and rounds the front of the vehicle, coming over to my side.
I’m not sure what he’s doing, until he opens my door, and for a second, I sit there, staring at him, wondering how the hell this man is real and what flaws he’s hiding because nobody can be this perfect.
He extends his hand, and I take it, hopping out of his raised-up truck. I’m not short, but in his truck, I feel like I am.
“Are you, um … coming in?” I ask when he walks with me around the back of my parents’ house and past the pool, stopping in front of my door.
“No, Taylor will be home soon, and while she’s left to her own devices when I have to work my shifts, I like to be home on the nights I can be.” He reaches out and tucks a few wayward strands behind my ear. “I just wanted to walk you to your door, so I could do this.”
He leans down and captures my mouth with his, his tongue sliding past my parted lips and uniting with mine. It’s only meant to be a kiss good night, but once his mouth is on mine, I can’t help but crave more. It’s like Shane has opened the door to my hormones that I kept locked away for too long, and now, my body is desperate for his touch, for the connection I feel when I’m with him.
As if we’re both on the same page, Shane reaches down and lifts me into his arms. My legs wrap around his waist at the same time my arms wrap around his neck as he walks us inside.
It’s dark, and he bumps into the couch and then the table, making us laugh.
“I need you now,” I murmur against his lips.
He nods in agreement and then sets me on my kitchen island, where we proceed to rip each other’s clothes off. Once we’re both naked, he thrusts two fingers into me while I trail kisses along his neck, sucking and licking along his flesh.
It only takes less than a minute before I’m coming all over his skilled hand, and then he’s replacing his fingers with his hard length.
“Fuck, Sour Patch,” Shane moans as he fills me inch by delicious inch, until we’re connected in the most intimate way. “I was addicted to you before, but now …” He shakes his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.”
Before I can say anything in response, he pulls out and then thrusts back in, damn near taking my breath away. The counter is smooth, and my ass slides back and forth along the surface as Shane fucks me fast and hard.
With him holding on to my hips, I pull his face back down to mine, kissing him like I need his air to breathe. And in many ways, I do.
In such a short amount of time, he’s come to mean so much to me. He saw me drowning in the darkness, and instead of walking away, he refused to leave me there. I tried like hell to push him away, but still, he stayed, and every day, he coaxed me toward the light, one foot at a time, until I was on the other side of the door with him, the sun shining down on us.
“Shane,” I choke out, breaking our kiss so I can look at him.
I don’t know what I want to say. My feelings are all over the place. The brightness nearly blinding me. But of course, Shane understands without me having to say anything. Because he gets me.
“I know,” he murmurs, leaning in and nipping my bottom lip before looking at me. “I know.”
With our eyes locked on each other, we both find our release, and maybe it’s because I’ve finally accepted that I have strong feelings for him, but it feels like this time is even more intimate, like I’ve bared not only my body, but also my soul to him. And he’s done the same to me.
Once we’ve both come down from our high, he carries me through my bedroom and into the bathroom. With me still in his arms, he manages to turn on the water and then steps into the shower. Only then does he set me down and proceed to wash my hair and body.
When it’s my turn to wash him, I take my time, exploring every inch of him. Both times we’ve been together were in the heat of the moment, so I didn’t get a chance to appreciate his body.
“Keep touching me like that, and I’ll be fucking you against the wall in here,” he says, his eyes filled with a mixture of mirth and lust.
“You have to get home to Taylor,” I remind him.
Once we’re out of the shower, he gets dressed in the clothes he was wearing, and I throw on an old shirt and sweats.
I’m walking him to the front door when my phone rings. I glance at it and see Taylor’s name on the screen, along with a picture of us at the book signing.
Shane glances at it, then does a double take. “Seriously? My daughter has your fucking number, and I don’t?” He pouts, grabbing my phone and hitting Accept. “How did you get?—”
“Hey!” I say through my laughter. “Give that back. We are definitely nowhere near the stage where you get to answer my phone.”
Taylor barks out a laugh as I snatch my phone from Shane and put her on speaker.
“Is that my dad with you?” she asks even though she already knows the answer.
“Yes, and he’s butthurt that you have my number and he doesn’t.”
Taylor giggles over the phone. “What can I say? Hos over bros.”
Her dad scoffs, “There is so much wrong with all of this that I don’t even know where to start. Are you at home?”
“Yeah, I just got home. I was calling to see if Kinsley has read the new Anna Peterson book that came out this morning. I devoured it during school today, and I need to vent.”
“Glad to know you’re getting such a wonderful education,” Shane deadpans.
“I haven’t,” I admit. “Between yoga with my mom this morning, working all afternoon, and …” I glance at Shane, my cheeks heating up at the thought of how we spent this evening, and he smirks. “I’ve been busy,” I say after clearing my throat. “I’m hoping to read it tonight if your dad will ever leave.”
He rolls his eyes. “Give me your number, and I’ll go.”
“Nope,” I say, popping the P for dramatic effect.
At this point, I’m just having fun, messing with him.
“I’ll text you once I start it and let you know what I think,” I say to Taylor.
“Okay, sounds good. See you when you get home, Dad. Bye!”
Taylor hangs up, and Shane grips the curve of my hip, pulling me toward him until our bodies are flush.
“I think it would only be right that your boyfriend has your number,” he murmurs, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
“Who said anything about you being my boyfriend?” I scoff.
“You,” he says, bending slightly and licking the seam of my lips. “You said you wanted labels and promises.”
“And I do,” I admit, my heart thumping in my chest at the thought of moving forward. Only instead of being consumed by guilt, I’m filled with excitement. “It’s been years since I’ve been in a relationship, but I’m pretty sure the guy is supposed to actually ask the woman to be his girlfriend, not demand it like a Neanderthal.”
I quirk a brow, and Shane barks out a laugh.
“All right, Sour Patch.” He gives me a chaste kiss, and I expect him to follow it up with asking me to be his girlfriend, so I’m shocked and confused when he steps back. “I’d say I’ll call or text when I get home, but I don’t have your number, so … I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”
With a panty-dropping wink, he opens the door and walks out, leaving me wondering what the hell just happened.
One second, I thought Shane and I were going to make things official, and I was ready to, and the next, he’s walking away while leaving whatever is going on between us in limbo.
Men. They can be so damn frustrating.