Chapter Nine
Kinsley
Isilently groan inside as soon as the words leave his mouth. I knew he had to be too good to be true. He lives with his mom?
Ginormous red flag flapping around right in front of me.
Not great, I can’t keep seeing him. I’m all for a momma’s boy, but one who has his own place and his life somewhat in order.
This sucks, because I truly do like him a lot.
I haven’t been looking to be with anyone but now that JJ has come along, I know I’ll be feeling the absence of him in my life.
Crazy how we can grow attached to others so quickly.
I release a disappointed sigh, but he cuts it off by shaking his head. Wait, so there’s hope!
“I don’t live with my mom. I stay with her when I’m in town. She has a house not too far from here, but no, I have my own place.”
“Oh, that’s good!” But shit, he doesn’t live here? A new red flag momentarily blinds my vision as I process him living in another city. Hopefully it’s not too far away. If it’s like Waco, then it’s not bad; we can make that work. “Um, how far away is your place?”
He winces, a guilty look flashing over him momentarily as he attempts to cover it with a charming grin.
He’s got the dimple popping, and it makes it harder to concentrate on anything of substance.
It’s annoying how one little smile from him has me going all goo-goo for him and not thinking of all the questions I should be peppering him with at the moment. “Dallas.”
“Oh, wow…Not close, then.” And hello, he could have a family or a wife, something like that, being so far away.
Am I being swindled? Maybe Amy was right, and I should’ve done a social media deep dive on him to see what I could find out.
At least I’d be feeling a little confident right now over him not living in the same area as I do.
This is another problem with a new relationship: learning to open yourself up to trusting someone else.
I glance at his ring finger, checking for a tan line, but there isn’t one.
How can I ever trust that he doesn’t have a double life?
Maybe demand to meet his mother so I can see if she fesses up to anything?
If I do that, then our relationship is rocky at best because I’m supposed to be able to trust him, and grilling his mom is not trust.
“I come and check on Mom a lot, so I don’t mind the drive. I’ll happily come down several times a week if you want to see me and we can have dinner, hang out, or whatever.”
That’s sweet and seems reasonable, right? I like how he wants to take care of her. It’s a good sign he has a big heart and is caring. Also, that he can see me several times a week means no other secret family, I hope. “What about your job? You work, right?”
I’m pretty sure we’ve covered this topic with our text in the beginning, but the not living here thing has blindsided me, so I need to question and re-evaluate everything.
I’m too old to allow myself to be na?ve where men are concerned.
I should make a simple checklist to go over to get this rocky part out of the way.
If I end up ever setting up a dating profile, I’m going to have to include said list. It’ll weed through a bulk of the men quickly.
Maybe I’ll put it in bright, bold red font with a title saying, ‘No losers allowed!’
They’ll love it, I’m sure.
He nods, grabbing his sweet tea and taking another drink.
He must like it and not be paying me false compliments since his cup is half-empty already.
We Southerners pay attention to details like that.
“I work. I, uh, work for Dallas. You said you’re a football fan, so that’s a good thing. Right? Me working for the team?”
I instantly perk up. He works for the team? How freaking cool. “I toured the practice facility once. Not gonna lie, it was pretty sweet digs.”
That makes him laugh, and his shoulders seem to drop a bit, the stress gone from his brow. “If you ever want to go again, let me know, and we can make the trip together. I’ll get us passes for the tour and stuff. I actually live not too far from there.”
“Thanks. I’d love that,” I admit quietly, lashes fluttering his way.
I could see why he lives there now, but what about women in the area?
I hate having to even consider this, but I don’t know what to really expect after being with my ex-husband for twenty-one years.
A new relationship and all the growing that comes with it isn’t something I thought I’d ever have to worry about again in my life.
JJ reaches for me, and I instantly go to him. He pulls me into his arms until I’m in his lap, straddling his muscular thighs. He must work the grounds or something for the team because he is in great shape with muscles in all the right places.
One hand reaches for my face, carefully removing my glasses for me, as he sets them on the arm of the couch. “I forgot I had those on,” I confess, cheeks warm with embarrassment.
I’m happy he’s here, but I’d have liked to have gotten at least a few minutes to glance in the mirror first. Maybe brush my teeth again, and put a little concealer or something on.
Deodorant. You know, those things women are kind of obsessed with whenever it comes to being around a guy they like. And I like this one a lot.
His smile widens as he lightly brushes the tip of his nose against mine. “You are so cute in them, but I don’t want to bend the frames if I kiss you.”
“You’re going to kiss me?” I ask as I wrap my arms around his neck, resting my biceps on his powerful shoulders. He’s so dreamy. I never thought I’d categorize a guy outside of my books in such a manner, but it fits him. Like a real-life Ken doll, and boy-oh-boy do I want to play with him.
He nods, gaze lowered, as his irises swirl with desire.
“Mm, I’d like that,” I manage to get out before his lips meet mine.
They’re soft and full, exactly as I remember from before, and still all-consuming, driving me on to kiss him deeper. His tongue meets mine, and sends a jolt of lust powering through me, fueling my desire for him. Our lips move in sync, passion and need in every touch between us.
The world around me fades away as I lose myself in the heat of JJ.
It’s so easy to do since everything about him only makes me want him more.
His scent is divine. His skin is soft, yet calloused, giving him the mountain man allure.
The way his size easily dwarfs me, his strength makes me feel dainty and safe in his arms. It’s all designed to make me want to pull his shorts down and connect with him in another, more intimate way.
I need to pump the brakes. It’s moving fast, but I want it to.
I know what going to the next level means, though, and that is something I’m going to have to dig deep and come to terms with.
Am I ready to open myself up completely to another man?
Something inside tells me JJ is different, and I want him to be in my life, all parts of it.
His hands roam my body, exploring my curves and sending shivers of longing down my spine.
My breasts ache for his attention, growing heavy in my sports bra as my nipples harden into points scraping the fabric.
I melt into his skilled touch, craving more and more of him with each passing beat of my heart.
The intensity of our connection grows, and my need to feel him inside, stretching, and filling me ratchets up a notch, leaving me breathless as I grind against his hard length.
He feels long and wide, his cock rubbing against my core as I’m splayed across his lap in the perfect position.
If I were in a night shirt and not my shorts, he’d be able to easily scoot my panties to the side and fill me if he wanted.
My pussy clenches with the thought. Wetness floods my core, soaking my panties. God, I want him so badly.
Our bodies are very close, pushed against each other, and I can feel his heart beat against mine.
The rhythm of our bodies is in sync, as I grind against his length, shifting my hips backward and forward.
One of his hands rests on my butt, urging me on as he pulls me down against him harder, making us both groan.
He releases me long enough to draw in a quick, stolen breath between our mouths, only to pull me closer again.
I surrender to the intoxicating allure of built-up desire spiraling between us, losing myself in the sensation of being wanted as desperately as I crave him.
His free hand moves to the hem of my night shirt, dipping beneath the fabric.
His fingers skate across my skin, never stuttering when he feels my rolled stomach.
He caresses me softly, working his way up to my sports bra.
My boobs send up a silent word of thanks as they’re finally about to get some much-needed attention.
His hand is big as it moves underneath the cotton, splaying across the front of both of them, so his palm brushes one nipple while his fingers splay over the other nipple.
My hands fist into the back of his hair as his other hand continues to palm my butt, his fingertips precariously close to my most intimate spots.
I want his fingers in both of my holes. My tongue swirls with his as I conjure up the feeling of his fingers dipping below the elastic of my panties, finding me soaked and ready.
The way his digits would slide through the wetness, guiding him to my opening.
He’d thrust two or three fingers inside me, making me clench around him.
Once I cried out, he’d remove them, only to push two into my behind, filling me in another way.
Back and forth, he’d tease me, getting me ready to take his long, hard cock.