Chapter 10 #2
This was where they should’ve ended up last month.
Except tonight, he knew exactly who she was, and she was the only woman on his mind.
And tonight, she was letting him kiss her. Not only letting him, but kissing him right back. Her sassy tongue darted into his mouth. A low, throaty growl purred out of her. All rational thought fled his brain.
More.
He needed more of this woman.
His hands trailed down the soft skin of her neck to the curve of her shoulders. Too much fabric. Too many clothes.
She tightened her grip on his shirt. His hard-on bumped the underside of the counter, and he had to push up on the stool rungs to get close enough to her.
He wanted to feel the skin on her elbows. Taste her nipples. Lose himself between her legs.
And he wanted her now.
“Kaci—”
“No talking.”
She sealed her mouth back over his, and with one more tug, she had him crawling over the counter.
Crawling.
For this woman.
She gripped the back of his head with one hand while the other trailed down his shirt, igniting a sizzle on his skin that short-circuited the few brain cells he had left.
He landed on her side of the counter and suckled his way along her jawbone, each of her pants and moans making his groin throb harder.
She was crazy.
But she was also shoving her hands under his shirt while he bent her over the counter, wrapping her legs around his waist and thrusting against him while keeping up a running list of demands and instructions.
“Don’t stop.”
“There.”
“Sweet baby Jenga, that’s the spot.”
“More.”
“I hope you don’t kiss your momma with that—oooh, yes. Yes. More.”
She tweaked his nipples. She pushed his shirt off and nipped his shoulder. And that sweet core of hers rocking against him had him about to explode through his jeans. “Kaci—”
“No talking,” she said again. “Oh, my holy sweet heavens, who taught you to—yes.”
“You need to get naked,” he murmured into her elbow. He flicked his tongue over the silky skin.
She arched into him, her legs a vise grip on his hips. “If you think I’m taking orders from—”
Kissing her was remarkably effective.
But if he didn’t get both of them out of their clothes, his main event would be over before it started.
He lifted her shirt, letting his knuckles brush her ribs and lacy bra.
Something furry brushed his leg, and a long, snuffly wheeze broke through Kaci’s gasps and whimpers.
Lance pushed the cat away and pulled Kaci’s shirt over her head. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and planted those sweet lips back on his mouth.
The cat hacked out another wheeze. It yowled an unholy sound, as if it had a hairball from hell stuck in its throat.
“Miss Higgs.” Kaci shoved him away and dropped to the ground.
Her cat’s frosted eyes bulged out and its tongue hung limp. Its chest heaved, but the rest of it twitched and spasmed, its paws stretching and contracting involuntarily.
Kaci pulled the cat into her lap. “Oh, no, baby girl, don’t you do this. You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be fine, sweet kitty. You just hang on.”
Shivers went down Lance’s spine.
The yowl dropped off and the twitching stopped, and the cat seemed to melt into Kaci’s lap. Its foggy eyes drifted shut, chest still heaving, but the rest of it—the thing looked dead.
She leapt to her feet, cradling the cat, and pushed past him.
She didn’t look at him, but he could see the gloss in her eyes and the fluttering of her pulse in her neck while she spun until she found her keys. “Sorry I can’t see you out, sugar.”
“Kaci—”
“I gotta get Miss Higgs to the doctor.”
The cat wheezed a desperate, gasping breath. Its front legs went stiff again, paws stretched out as though it were reaching for the doors to heaven.
Kaci sucked in a breath that would’ve sounded like a sob coming from any other woman. “Hold on, Miss Higgs. Just hold on, baby.”
“Kaci, your shirt.”
She whirled around, eyes wide, lips parted. She glanced frantically at the moaning cat in her arms, then at the shirt Lance held out.
His hard-on whimpered in frustration. And if the cat hadn’t looked about three centuries old, Lance might’ve suspected it was playing him.
“Here.” He gingerly reached for the furball, surprised to find it lighter than a six-pack under all its white fur and scarily stiff. “Let me take you to the vet.”
She had her shirt on and was reaching for the cat before he finished asking. “I got this. Thanks for—” Her chin wobbled, and this time, when she looked at him, there was an uncertainty he wouldn’t have expected from her a week ago. “Just…thanks.”
She ducked her head again and barreled for the door. The cat let out one last whimpery yowl.
Lance was right on her heels. “Kaci, you can’t drive and hold a cat. Let me take you.”
“You’re not dressed.” She banged on the door across the way. “Mrs. Hamm? Mr. Hamm?”
The door flew open, and a kindly older gentleman swept one gaze over Kaci before springing into action. “Wanda, hon, I’m runnin’ Kaci and Miss Higgs to the vet,” he called.
“Door locks on its own,” Kaci said to Lance.
And then she was gone with her neighbor, leaving him with a half-mast erection and the growing suspicion that his little post-being-left-at-the-altar, pre-deployment fling was doomed.
Four hours later, after racking up an emergency vet bill Kaci didn’t want to think about, Miss Higgs was resting comfortably.
Given her age, there wasn’t much the vet could do for her, but she’d stopped having seizures and was drinking water, so that was something.
She wasn’t gone.
Yet.
Kaci would’ve stayed all night with her cat, but the vet ordered her to go home. If Miss Higgs was supposed to go tonight, she’d be gone already, the vet had said. Kaci needed sleep so she could take care of Miss Higgs when she came home tomorrow.
So once Miss Higgs was comfortably asleep, Kaci left the vet and climbed into her Jeep.
Mrs. Hamm had picked up Mr. Hamm after Kaci had assured him that Miss Higgs would be fine and then threatened to call a cab for him. So it was just her.
Going home would be the easy thing to do.
It would also be the chicken thing to do.
Tara wasn’t there. If she wanted to crawl into bed and cry herself to sleep, no one would ever know.
But she wanted a friend more than she needed her pride. A friend who apparently understood more about her than she would’ve thought possible.
She fired up her engine and headed to Lance’s house.
He’d been sweet to offer to go with her. She wasn’t used to accepting help. She wasn’t used to having help available. Even when she’d been married, she’d been independent.
She wouldn’t have asked the Hamms for help tonight, except Lance had been right. She shouldn’t have driven herself.
And she hadn’t wanted him to go with her. She hadn’t wanted him to see her if Miss Higgs didn’t make it.
So who was she doing the greater disservice? Herself, in denying herself a friend?
Or Lance, in denying him her trust?
It was approaching midnight when she reached his house. Lights glowed in his windows, so she climbed out and knocked.
But it wasn’t Lance who stared back at her from the other side of the doorway.
It was one of his little flyer buddies.
His roommate, apparently, who still couldn’t stop his eager-beaver eyes from drifting toward her chest. “Looking for round two with Thumper?”
“You old enough to shave on your own? Or does your momma still do that for you?” She squeezed her eyes shut. Probably not the fastest way to get to Lance, but she couldn’t help herself. Her mouth did most of its own thinking when she wasn’t in a classroom. “Is he here?”
“Nah. But I’m starting to wonder about his taste in women,” the kid said.
That got her attention. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t turn you down either. But then, I didn’t just get rid of a crazy ex-fiancée.”
A cold jolt shot through her stomach. She’d been showing her own crazy lately. Waving it like a flag. Might as well have tattooed it to her forehead.
But she and Lance—they weren’t serious.
This was about lust.
Lust and flying and catapults.
With a side of quasi-friendship.
Right?
Still, if he was into crazy, that explained why he kept coming around.
“You wanna come in?” the kid said.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she marched herself back to her Jeep.
She had a friend to track down.