Chapter 22 – Kylie
twenty-two
Kylie
“One, it’s not your turn,” I tell him, reaching for the bottle of wine, but he stops me when he reaches out at the same time as I do.
Our fingers touch and it feels like an electric current shooting up my arm.
I move my hand away, watching his eyes watch me, waiting for my answer to his question—which I know is sexual—but I’m not going there with him, or at least that’s the plan.
But you know how these things go, sometimes plans just go out the window.
“But to answer your question. Yes”—I see the ire in his eye, and I have to stop myself from busting out laughing—“I have had the drink and I don’t recommend it.
” I can’t help it, I snort-laugh and so does he.
His blue eyes turn crystal blue when he’s laughing, and they are the most magnificent eyes I’ve ever seen in my life.
“What about you?” He fills my glass with wine.
“I don’t recommend the drink either.” He smirks, his eyes never leaving my wine glass and then he puts the bottle away. “But it’s not my turn.”
I pick up my glass, bringing it to my lips. “Who is your celebrity crush?”
He laughs as he shocks me by taking off his jacket, and my eyes see his bare arms. I have to swallow before I moan out loud.
I drink a sip of wine to stop myself from saying anything I shouldn’t say.
“Celebrity crush.” He tosses his jacket to the side of his chair.
“Hmm,” he hums, thinking, “I don’t even think I have one. ”
“Everyone has one,” I reply, rolling my eyes.
“Who is yours?”
You, my brain screams. “Kevin Costner,” I answer without skipping a beat, “or that other guy from the show. Kip.” I’m not sure of his name. “Rip.”
“You don’t even know his name?” He laughs at me.
“I don’t have to watch the show to enjoy the fineness that he is.
” I wink at him, making him laugh, and I have to say, I really fucking like his laugh.
“The way that man rides that horse.” I close my eyes and hold up my hands and do a little dance.
“I mean, I would even let them tag team me,” I open my eyes, “and I’m not even into that.
But—” He rolls his eyes, and I stop. “There has to be someone you’ve seen in a movie or whatever and you’re like ‘I’d do her.
’” I watch him. “Could even be a porn star, if that’s the kind of movies you like to watch.
This is a no judgment zone.” I open my hand and do a circle on top of the table.
He glares at me. “There is nothing wrong with watching porn.”
“You watch porn?” His eyes light up.
“You really have never played this game before.” I chuckle. “You can save that question for when it’s your turn. Now it’s mine.”
“Fine, I don’t know, Scarlett Johansson.” He scrubs his hands down his face.
“Very good choice,” I approve and he shakes his head, smiling. The waiter comes over and I grab my menu, looking up at him. “Are you hungry?”
“Yeah,” he replies, grabbing his own menu.
I don’t know why I was scared he was going to say he wasn’t going to eat and he was leaving, but I was.
I look down at the menu, trying to calm down my nerves and pretend that sitting across from him has no effect on me.
When in fact it does, greatly. When I walked into the restaurant and they walked me to his table, I was seething.
One, I was pissed about thinking I got played, and two, I was pissed he was actually going to go on a date.
Fine, I was also, but that’s his fault he didn’t message me.
We order a few appetizers to share on the table and then he orders the steak with steamed veggies. “Shocking,” I mumble while I order the chicken parm with spaghetti on the side.
I smile at the waiter, who turns to leave. “Okay, whose turn is it?” I ask and he points to himself while he takes a sip of his sparkling water. “Here we go,” I mumble, thinking he’s going to ask me if I watch porn.
“If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?” He puts down his glass and looks at me.
“I’d want to be taller,” I answer without skipping a beat. “I’m like five six right now, I’d love to be five nine, but like all legs.”
“Your legs are sexy as fuck already,” he says, and I think he shocked himself that he said it out loud.
“Thank you.” I wink at him, and he shakes his head. “What about you?”
“I’d be a better dad,” he says softly and my heart sinks.
“Knox, I’m sure you’re a great dad.”
“I think I am, but—” He stops talking. “Having to watch Vincent go through this divorce when he understands what’s going on is hard.”
“What do you mean?” I ask him, suddenly wanting more of him.
“Well, I don’t know if you know the story,” he starts and I don’t answer yes or no, “but my wife was having an affair with my brother-in-law.” Even though I know the story, hearing it from him makes my heart sink. “Walked in on them one day.”
“Did you guys try to work it out?” The tightness in my chest moves to my stomach.
“Fuck no,” he hisses. “I can forgive her overspending or whatever, but fucking someone else? I can’t do it. I wouldn’t even try.”
“Same,” I agree with him. “I would second-guess every single minute of every single hour, and it would be torture for me. Then I would make his life a living hell with all the questions.”
“Yeah, turns out Vincent found out and he’s trying to navigate through it.”
“He’s a good kid.” I smile when he smiles, the pride shows in his face. “You are doing a great job with him.”
“Thank you. Okay, well, that took a turn.” He laughs, grabbing his glass. “Your turn, and it can’t be heavy.”
“Fine.” I cross my arms in front of me. “What is your favorite thing about yourself?”
“That I’m a good dad,” he says, and I can’t help but laugh. “You?”
“Um. I’m a great friend, and the best sister anyone can have, obviously.
” I tilt my head to the side. “And I’ll never sleep with my sister-in-law.
” I make a joke about it. I wonder if it’s too soon, but he throws his head back and laughs.
I watch his neck and make a note if we ever sleep together again, I’m going to worship that neck.
“My turn,” he says, his voice giddy. “What was your best kiss?”
I grab my glass of wine and take a big sip, or maybe it’s a gulp. “We can’t lie, right?” I ask him and he gives me a grin because the asshole knows right now what my answer will be.
“You can, but what fun is it to lie?”
“Ugh,” I actually say out loud, “fine.” I roll my eyes and avoid looking at him, not sure I want to see how smug he looks. “The kiss in the SUV.”
“Really?” he says, and he tries not to beam with happiness but fails.
“Yeah, whatever.” I look to the side. “You?”
“Same,” he replies and my head whips back to him.
“Okay, you don’t have to say that because I said it.”
“I’m not.” He holds up his hand. I look down, trying not to smile and biting my lower lip. “Okay, your turn.”
“What was your first impression of me?” I ask and he snorts, and I can’t help but giggle.
“Obviously, I thought you were hot.” I put both hands under my chin and shimmy. “Then you went for the jugular.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “I think you started that.” I point to him, taking a sip of water. “Well, I also thought you were hot, but then it dwindled when you opened your mouth.” We both laugh.
“Okay, fine, I’ll give you that,” he concedes. “Where’s the wildest place you’ve ever had sex?”
I laugh. “An SUV,” I say without skipping a beat, “I’ve never done that before.” I wait for his answer.
“Same,” he states and I shake my head.
“You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not. I’ve fooled around in a car before, but to actually go all the way in one? Never done that in my life.”
“What’s the wildest thing you’ve ever done to get someone’s attention?” I ask him and he looks down and hangs his head.
“Is showing up at someone’s house to return their panties wild enough?” he asks me. “Or maybe it’s when I showed up at someone’s house to bring her coffee, even though it was nighttime, and I knew I wasn’t going to drink the coffee.”
The bark of laughter leaves me. “I mean, thank you for returning my panties.”
“Vincent found them in the car,” he tells me. My mouth opens and I think the color literally runs out of my face. “It’s okay.” He shakes his head. “I snatched it before he was able to have it hang on his finger.”
“What did you say?” I ask him.
“I told him it was a napkin.” We both laugh and I shake my head. “What about you?”
“Hmm.” I pull my hand back and think, even though I kind of know the answer. “Emailing someone with the hopes that they’d call me.” I see his eyes catch onto what I’m saying. “You still haven’t paid”—I point at him, making sure he knows the email was for him—“by the way.”
“I was going to pay it on the plane but then I forgot, I’ll do it first thing tomorrow,” he assures me. “Which do you like more…” He looks into my eyes, the smirk on his face making him look ruggedly handsome. “sending dirty texts or dirty talk in person?”
“Dirty talk in person, for sure, but I’m not opposed to the dirty texts,” I point at him. “if you’re going to talk dirty in person within the hour.”
“I’ve never gotten a dirty text,” he remarks and I gawk at him.
“You were married,” I point out. “You went on the road.”
“Yeah,” he nods, “and a lot of it was ‘I can’t wait for you to get home.’ Or ‘I can’t wait to get home to you.’”
“So, you have never texted ‘I can’t wait to fuck your brains out’ to someone before?” I ask, shocked, and I see his abs move from silently laughing.
“I have not. You have?”
“No,” I shake my head, “but I’ve never been married.” I finish the second glass of wine. “What is the most times you’ve had sex in a single day?”
“Three,” he says and I scrunch my nose. “I think that’s my cap.”
“We had sex three times the last time,” I remind him, “and that is only because it was time to go to bed.”
“Yeah, we would have done it two more times, at least.”
“At least,” I repeat and stop talking when the first plate of appetizers comes out. I grab my fork, stabbing a meatball before asking him, “Do you prefer giving or receiving?”
“It’s my turn,” he says, stabbing his own meatball, “but that’s a good question so I’ll answer it.
” He smirks. “I definitely love receiving,” I roll my eyes, “but I prefer giving.” The part of me he likes giving it to contracts.
“There’s something about giving someone pleasure, it’s so much better than getting it. ”
“Yeah,” I agree and I’m pretty sure I’m panting it out.
“You?” His eyes are on mine. I think we are both in uncharted territory.
“I like,” I start to say, “to give him pleasure while I’m receiving the pleasure.
” I see his Adam’s apple bob. “Sitting on his face and then just bending to take him in my mouth.” Our eyes never stray from one another.
“What’s better than that?” I take my hand and move it around the rim of the glass.
“Letting him feel what he’s doing to me.
” I feel the back of my neck warm up. “Doing it in sync so both of us can get us there at the exact same time.” I tilt my head to the side.
“That has to be my favorite.” I don’t even know why I answered that way because I have never, ever done it.
Like ever, but I want to, and I want to do it with him.
“How are we doing over here?” The waiter comes over, interrupting the moment of tension between us.
“I don’t know about you,” I say, picking up my glass, “but it’s a little warm in here, don’t you think?”
“It is,” he agrees, his eyes still on mine.
“I’ll see if we can turn up the air conditioner,” he says, turning.
“Somehow,” I snort, “I don’t think that is going to help.” I burst out laughing and so does Knox. “This is nice.”
“It is,” he agrees, nodding. “One of the best nights I’ve had in a while.”