8 #3
where he felt the way her cheeks hollowed on a slow suck. For two minutes more, he enjoyed the slow torture before he accepted
he was at his breaking point. “Enough, or the night will be over without a single condom used.” After uttering that nonsense,
he had to catch his breath. “Condom on, babe. No more playing.”
Eyes half closed, she slicked her tongue over her bottom lip, then smiled up at him. “You have promises to keep.” She rolled the condom onto him, then stretched over to turn out the lamp.
Damn. He’d half hoped she’d moved beyond it, but he wasn’t about to slow things down now. Blindly, he reached out, felt her
leg, and then tracked his fingers up to the closure of her jeans. “Okay for me to get these off you?”
Her hesitation hung in the air. Kam held his breath, waiting.
“Yes.”
Yeah, that about did it. Her small quiet agreement had the impact of a vow. To keep her from regrets, he lectured himself
about ensuring his hands were on safe ground—at least, the ground she deemed safe. Meaning off her left shoulder and hip.
When he stripped off her jeans, he took her silky panties, too, dropping both to the floor. Moving over her, he held her face
and kissed her urgently, because she needed to catch up.
Fortunately, she was already there, her hands in his hair, her legs wrapping around him. Damn it, she still wore her shirt
and bra, and as much as he wanted them gone, it was her call.
“Now, Kam. I can’t wait.”
Worked for him. He reached down to move two fingers over her, feeling her wetness, her heat. He positioned himself, and they
both pressed together with need.
Nothing with Glory was conventional.
That was just one of the things that made her so special.
A few hours later, they were both still breathing hard—after round two.
Smiling, Kam drew Glory atop him. He might have rushed her to bed, but she’d kept him there. She still wore her shirt, but at least her bra was open now, the cups tangled up under her arms. She hadn’t yet removed her makeup, and when he tried to imagine how she might look, he laughed.
Every time with Glory was hotter, and he figured that might be because he constantly got to know her better.
“What’s funny?” she murmured.
Earlier, her defense of his family had warmed him from the inside out. In some indefinable way, that feeling of contentment
had transformed into need. Since needing anyone made him antsy, he’d deliberately shifted it to lust. “Just thinking of how
your eye makeup must look right now.”
“Jerk.” Sluggishly, she thumped her fist to his shoulder, but there was no real anger behind it. “You’ll never know.”
“Spoilsport.” He pressed a kiss to her damp temple. “You don’t need to worry about Shara, you know.”
With a little less lethargy, she asked, “Is that so?”
“We used to date, but it was never more than that.”
Time ticked by, nearly half a minute, before she asked, “Had she called you?”
“A few times.” Overall, he’d been ignoring her and assuming she’d catch on.
“You didn’t mention it.”
“Why would I?”
Glory shoved up, and if it hadn’t been so dark, he assumed he would’ve seen her glare.
Bringing his hands up her shoulders to her neck, he stroked his thumbs over her silky skin. “It’s cute that you’re jealous,
but—”
“Cute?”
Good thing she couldn’t see his grin. “I’ve been jealous of Mike, too.”
“That’s ridiculous. I want nothing to do with Mike.”
“Ditto. From me, I mean, about Shara.”
“Or Natalie? Or Ronna?”
“What?” he teased. “Are you keeping a record?”
With a huff, she settled against him again. “Are there any others?”
He shrugged. “Do you honestly think I want any other woman right now?”
“Right now,” she repeated, “maybe not.”
The unspoken fact that they weren’t locked down, not in any way, annoyed him. “You’re the one who wants everything kept private.
I have no problem sharing.” Hell, he’d happily shout it to anyone who listened.
“Thank you.”
That made him lock his teeth.
“Do you think I could have just a little more time?” In a rush, she raised herself up again, kissed him, and said, “I love
being included with your family.” Abruptly, she moved to the side of him. “Oh, not that you have to include me. I don’t mean that. But it’s nice, and I—”
Grabbing her, Kam managed to roll her under him, kissed her hard, and stated, “You. Are. Family. Believe it, please. No matter
how it rolls out with us.” Though he certainly had his preferences.
He could practically feel her thinking before she whispered, “That’s what Addie said.”
“She means it.”
“But if things went poorly, and you were angry with me—”
“Won’t happen.”
“You walked Shara out.” Her arms went around his neck and she hugged him tight. “I wouldn’t want to be walked out.”
Kam groaned. “It’s not at all the same thing.
” Shara had never been in his life. Mostly, she’d been a hookup for sex—which had worked for both of them.
She knew his family only because they all lived in the same area.
Everyone knew everyone else in Hoker. That was the curse—and often the blessing—of a small town.
Glory pushed at him. “I need that shower now.”
He didn’t want the night to end like this, but she was already scrambling away.
Kam flopped back, one arm over his eyes. Not like he’d be able to see anything, anyway. “I’ll shower after you and then we’ll
get some sleep.”
“Okay.” When the light flashed on, it startled him enough that he came up on one arm.
Glory stood in the bathroom doorway, her shirt tugged low, her hair a little wild, her eye makeup leaving dark smudges.
And she stared at him. “Thank you for letting me enjoy you tonight.”
A cocky grin came despite his effort to stave it off. “Thank you for enjoying me.” That sounded goofy enough that he laughed.
She grinned, too, then backed two steps into the bathroom and shut the door.
“Only with you, Glory,” he whispered. In his heart, he knew that was true.
Now that he’d been with her like this, no other woman would do.
Three days later, Mike had a peon on his payroll. It was easy to spot the kid Shara had described. Kirby—Mike didn’t remember
his last name—looked to be sixteen or seventeen, lanky, with the weight of the world on his skinny shoulders. Oh, boo-hoo.
Mike half rolled his eyes in a distinct lack of pity. Whatever trouble this kid had, he’d probably brought it on himself.
As Mike had promised—anonymously over an untraceable phone—the kid found the hundred dollars taped to the bottom of the bench in the park.
Kirby stared at the money with undiluted greed, even rubbing his mouth a few times and then glancing guiltily around him,
as if it were stolen cash.
Mike was far enough away that Kirby wouldn’t notice him, but with the binoculars, he could see the kid just fine. After pocketing
the money, Kirby looked around again, then retrieved the note that had been taped next to the money.
Half smiling, Mike saw the apprehension grow as the kid read. “Do it,” Mike said quietly. “Do it, and there will be more.”
Kirby didn’t put the money back. No, he just firmed his mouth, shoved the note in his pocket, too, then headed to a junker
car and left the park.
If he followed through, if he did as he was told, Mike would give him the rest of the promised money, in a new location, of
course. And he’d give him new instructions. Soon, very soon, Glory would be back where she belonged: with him. Once he had
her, he’d make certain she understood the futility of resisting.
Unlike Jenn, he and Glory were meant to be. She belonged to him.
Willingly . . . or otherwise.