14
14
KATIE-KAT COLD
“H ow’s my blushing bride-to-be?” I shook the wet from my hair before taking a comb to it.
“Good.”
A lot of dead air space commenced while I tried to blame the connection.
“Everything’s fine.”
I felt a sick whoosh rush into my chest. The comb in my hand clattered to the counter. Fine is a term people only use when they’re not. “Good is good, I guess.” I felt a little defeated already. I allowed a sigh to escape. “How’s the little guy?”
“Good . . . missing you,” she allowed.
“Well, I hope he’s not the only one.” I was actually fishing.
You could practically hear the crickets rubbing their legs together, or maybe it was the wheels slowly turning in her head. What can I say that would border on nice? I actually had time to put on pants by the time she answered.
“No.” She followed that up with a sigh, like she’d just admitted it to herself, and it was a letdown. “I miss you too.” This was said in the dullest way possible.
I rubbed at my chest. A handful of words later we hung up.
Katie-Kat’s gone cold on me. It was a chill I could feel all the way down in the tropics of Venezuela. A knot formed in my stomach that had nothing to do with attending a black-tie formal surrounded by camo-clad gorilla gunman as security guards. I expertly tied my bowtie in the gilded bathroom mirror. The next knot would be the one on my wedding day, right before I tied the metaphorical one with her. I exhaled some air and ripped the ends loose to start over.
Obviously, something had set her off. I haven’t been spending much time with her, I explained it away. I have been busy, I defended myself. She knew I was heading up this important mission. It wasn’t that. She’s not like that. She is pretty understanding. Most of the time. But I had been neglecting her lately. I was working overtime so that I could take time off for my honeymoon. A smile spread my face at the thought. Lordy, it was getting harder and harder to stop at third base. Delayed gratification would, hopefully, increase the enjoyment exponentially more. I thought about finally rounding home base, then sighed.
It just seemed really sudden.
What alarmed me was the subtlety of it. If it was fast, then she was mad. I could get around her mad. She wasn’t a grudge holder, like me. She quick-burned, so her fires were easy to put out. Once she’d cooled down, she was reasonable. Most of the time.
No. She was the opposite of hot. Her last text came to my mind: Okay. I’ll see you when you get back. Good luck. No emoticons. No emotion. No cute jokes. Nothing about a punch from Mikey. Cold. But subtlety so.
Maybe it’s nothing but wedding jitters? Fucking chicks. Who knew?
Maybe she’s hurt because I stopped trying to seduce her ? Didn’t she understand it wasn’t safe for her to be alone with me, not if she wanted to hold onto her virtue until her wedding night. One week from today. A grin split my face. Saturday, June twenty-sixth. All the bells and whistles a girl could want.
The problem with Kitty-Kat Connelly was—she didn’t want much. A good thing in a woman. And bad. A good thing because, well, I guess it was fucking admirable not to care what kind of bag you held in your hand. And a bad one because I couldn’t buy her off when she was mad or sad or . . . whatever the hell she was right now. Other girls creamed their pants for a luxury bag, almost as hard as for me—almost. I couldn’t operate like that with her. She never came at me, eyelashes batting, hands groping for a favor. She really didn’t care. A trait, I’d learned, she had picked up from her mother. Bitch. A bitter lump rose to my throat. I yanked at my collar. So many of those vengeful feelings left over, and nothing to do with them now I wasn’t getting even with her daughter anymore.
All the girl seemed to care about was her brother. Our brother. I winced. Still sounded incestuous to be marrying my brother’s sister. Weird. But not weird enough to stop me. Anyhow, she already felt like family—I felt closer to her than just about anyone else my whole damn life, except for Slater.
So there it was: I was doing it. And damn glad I was protecting her from a life of Missions. Sit around and look pretty, my ass. She only had an inkling of what I was protecting her from, to tell you the truth.
As I slapped some cool aftershave on, I thought back to the last time I’d really felt warmth from her. I’d taken her and Mac out for a day at the beach. It was a gorgeous day. Not too windy. Just warm enough for shorts. Pale yellow sun and pale blue skies. I was doing stupid kid stuff that day, things I hadn’t really done before: picnic, kite, red plastic pail and shovel—the whole shebang. I was letting Mac bury my legs in the sand and was pretending I was stuck. He was laughing his head off like he does, that damn kid was a kick and a half. All of a sudden, she came up behind me and dropped to her knees. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into her chest. I knew she did it as a gesture of gratitude for being so good to Mikey, and a way to do it without having to face me. She was still intimidated by me. A situation I thought best not to remedy. I still didn’t let my guard down much around her, but it was getting harder. And so was I. I felt something stir. In my chest and in my groin. It was a good thing I was buried in sand. If not, I would’ve had to explain to Mikey why I was pitching a tent right there on the beach.
It was right after that when I stopped spending so much time with her. I was getting sucked in. Too involved. Feeling things I didn’t want to feel—guilty as sin, like she could smell Laticia or Lizzie on me, or see it written on my face. Kind of sucked having a fiancée with heightened intuition when you’re a cheat.
But really? What did she expect? With as much testosterone as I have pumping through my veins, no way could I not be fucking someone. I thought maybe I could last, if she’d be willing to pleasure me in other ways. But when I put her hand on my Johnson, she went fiery red and held it like it was a bomb about to explode. (Pardon the pun.) Besides, I kind of liked the idea of her going into her honeymoon with some surprises in store . . . more fun that way. So much to teach her. So much to learn, although I could already write a manual on how to light her up.
Could. Not. Wait.
Whatever obstacle was in the way could be removed. A spark of anger flashed from my eyes in the mirror. I hoped she wasn’t still pining for Davenport. My chest burned at the thought. I deep breathed in to simmer down. I’m sure that I’ve been an asshole in some minor way I didn’t even realize, like when I found out I hadn’t presented the ring right. Should have gone the champagne glass route the first time around. It was so cliché I almost didn’t do it the second time around. At the last second, I dropped it in on a whim. Couldn’t believe how much she loved it. Emotion sparkled her eyes. She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. As I recall . . . that’s the night I rounded third.
Civilian girls. I rolled my eyes. They harbored such fantasies and romantic notions about sex and love. It was from being spoon fed fairytales and Disney movies from the time they were two. Little girl pre-cadets had a steady diet of organic vegetables and discipline control.
I squirted some gel into my hand and worked it through my hair while I worked out what I could do to get back in her good graces. Mikey. Obviously, something nice for Mikey. A gleam reflected from my eyes as the light bulb went on. I knew just the thing. It was something every little boy wanted. Would light up Mikey. Would light up his sister—two birds, one stone. And the timing was perfect because Katie-Kat and I were going away for a week. I wanted a longer duration of time, requesting ten days, but Weston was nervous leaving Mikey alone for so long. Hell, I was too. That’s one reason I started submerging him into the program before I knew she was ready to give him up. It was good for both of them. They were way too codependent, by anyone’s standards, much less The Academy’s.
Hopefully, my gift would stop Mikey from getting into trouble, and start thawing out his sister. Nobody wants to sleep with an ice princess. And maybe it could buy us those three extra days.
A knock at the door brought me out of my revelry. “Ranger, are you ready?”
I cracked the door. “Aren’t I always?” I followed up with a wolf whistle. Laticia was poured into a screaming red dress that left very little to the imagination. “Tish . . . you’ve outdone yourself tonight. That loser’s gonna cream his pants the instant he lays eyes on you.”
Her painted lips turned down. “I hope you’re right. I don’t relish the thought of going down on a geriatric arms dealer.”
I gave her a reassuring smile. “Trust me, you won’t have to do a thing but look pretty. Just keep him occupied long enough for Reese to zap his hard-drive.”
“I just hope his drive’s not hard.” She tried a joke but wasn’t smiling. Distaste was written all over her lush face.
I pulled her to me and kissed behind her ear. Rubbed her shoulders until I felt her soft curves relax into me. “Don’t I always take care of you?”
She nodded, but her forehead remained creased.
“I’m going to slip a softee into his drink,” I reassured her. “He’ll have the desire, but not the ability. A couple of fondles is likely all you’ll get.” I grabbed her and demonstrated some likely moves. She was full-bodied as a Bordeaux. “And who could blame him?” I breathed in her ear.
This elicited a small smile. Her sumptuous tits were pressed into me. My hands full of her big-daddy-Cadillac ass.
Ever the opportunist, I said, “Whad’ya say we make ‘em wait? That way . . . we can really make an entrance.”
“I just want to get it over with and go home,” she pouted.
I countered by running a hand up the inside of her thigh, parting her legs. She started to protest until I moved my mouth to her throat. The fleshy feel of her jiggling beneath me was too tempting to pass up. I enjoyed fucking her, that was for sure.
The plain truth was: I was an asshole who wanted my cake and eat it too. I would stop when I was a married man. But I still had a week to go . . . so I plucked a cherry nipple from her long-suffering bra and popped it into my mouth.