4 Rich
Kimber doesn’t want to look at me as we clean the front entranceway and move into the house. She’s been here before, but usually just to chat for a few minutes while she picks up sex toys. This has a very different vibe.
I keep looking at her, her cheeks as red as her hair as we walk, and she drops to sit in the living room and hold the sides of her head. I don’t stop her, watching her with a frown as she groans pitifully.
“I do understand if you’d like to send me home in a different ride,” she grunts. “And I will pay to deep clean the floors.”
I skip over that, because it’s a little excessive in my opinion. Sitting in front of her on the coffee table, she looks up at me through long lashes. “Kim, why are you here? You didn’t want to go home?”
She bites her lip, digging in her teeth hard enough that I think she’ll draw blood. I turned on more lights, and she’s squinting now like it's too bright.
The silence drags on, and I click my tongue. She’s being dodgy, something Kimber usually isn't. She’s more direct unless she’s uncomfortable with something. Licking my lips, I decide to see if I can piss her off. “Brynne-”
She jumps up, pointing her fingers in my face. “Don’t call me that!”
I hold up my hands, tentatively standing. She’s way on edge tonight. “Okay. My mistake. I just… I need to know why you’re here.”
She hesitates, biting into her lip again before she responds. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
My frown deepens, taking her in. Kim is so busy half the time, avoiding plans with friends and we’ve only spent a few hours together over the past months.
Most of it is work related. I don’t see her a whole lot outside of that with Tyson busy with his girl now, and most of my other friends and contacts are at different clubs.
Come to think of it, I don’t know who Kim relies on when she needs help. She’s not someone who asks, and she wears a mask in the club so unless she knows someone intimately, they don’t know much about her.
She hiccups, and I grip her shoulders when she sways. I keep my touch gentle after her weird reaction by the door, studying her face. She looks drunk and like she might be sick again, but nothing that indicates something happened.
I didn’t have anywhere else to go. What am I supposed to think when she says something like that?
Sighing, I nod. She follows my guiding hand easily when I help her turn towards the stairs. “Let’s get you washed up so you can rest, Kim.”
~~~
By the time she’s clean, she’s lost the club clothes, washed the styling crap out of her hair, and stolen the shirt I had set with my clothes for tomorrow. Unconcerned with arriving on my doorstep in the middle of the fucking night, she burrows into my sheets as soon as she’s finished the shower.
I’m in the middle of responding to Jude, who’s insomnia makes him the perfect person to pester at this hour. My eyes narrow when she slides into my bed like she’s been there before, cheeks flushed, and moans as she settles in.
My cock twitches, and I slam my phone down on the table before pacing across the room. My bedroom is too big for a single person, so I have a chair and table in here when I feel like working late. It left the bed open, and she slipped in like we weren't going to talk.
Kim’s already snuggled into the sheets, eyes closed. I take a moment to pause beside the bed and admire her, the way her dyed red hair sticks to her neck and the side of her face. The way her long lashes almost dust her cheeks, the little flush on her skin…
I close my eyes and suppress the urge to groan. Kimber has no idea what she’s doing right now, laying in my bed. She looks amazing here, and it makes all of my thoughts fly south.
“Where did you go tonight?” I ask curiously. I’m not entirely sure she’s going to respond, but she mumbles something with her eyes closed and throws an arm over her eyes.
She purses her lips before responding. S&S.”
“How the hell did you get drunk at Sins?” I ask honestly. A lot of things have changed there since February, but they’re still careful about drunks at a BDSM club.
“Pregamed,” she tells me, and she sounds proud too. “Then I had my fun.”
I raise a brow. I can't actually tell if she's had sex or not tonight but she didn't smell like it, and her hair didn't look like it's gotten fucked up. “Satisfied your needs?”
She frowns, nibbling her lip. “No.”
Is that better or worse for me? I shouldn’t ask things I’m not committed to following through on, so I round the bed instead and leave her hanging. I would love to go back to sleep even as the hour creeps towards four.
Women don’t really come back to my house. I work with enough sex clubs and destination clubs that opening my house to someone isn’t necessary. It’s the only time I mix business with pleasure, but it’s served me well over the years. Kimber is the first woman to be in my bed in a long time.
I’m still shirtless, but the sweats will be irritating. I glare down at the bed, watching as she sleeps for a moment before blowing out a breath. She speaks before I do. “You can sleep in your own bed, Rich. You don’t frighten me.”
The question rolls off my tongue too easily. “What does frighten you?”
She moves her arm, fluttering her lashes at me. I should’ve killed all the lights so I couldn’t see that now, but this felt safer. Her gaze is hooded when she meets my eyes. “Doesn’t matter. He’s dead.”
He?
I decide to let it hang in the air, hopping into bed still in the sweats. I’ll just bitch about it in my head all night.
Kimber rolls on her side, her eyes closing again.
One arm is tucked against her cheek, and even with the low lights I can see the marks on her arm.
Maybe because I know they are there. It’s one of those things people miss unless they are looking, because they are old, and half the time she wears decorative bands or bracelets on her arms to hide them
Reaching over, I slide my grip up and run my thumb along her scars.
She's never told me what made her put them there even when I've asked. Her pulse is strong against my fingertips as we lay there together, and I try to figure out why her trust in me is so strong. She makes it sound like something bad happened in the past, and I’m sure it did with the scars beneath my fingertips, but she doesn’t talk about it.
“Don’t touch me there,” she grumbles, her voice thick with sleep. Her other hand reaches over, catching mine, and she drags it down her body. “Touch me here.”
My eyes roll when she brings my hand down her body, past her perky breasts to the apex of her legs. She’s opened them beneath the blankets, and my fingers skim soft flesh and trimmed hair before I feel how wet she is.
I groan. “Kimber-”
Her eyes open, and she looks at me. There’s so much undeserved trust there that I wonder who broke her so badly she’s willing to trust me with a little bit of kindness. “You can’t hurt me, Rich.”
Flexing my hand, I trace her pussy. I don’t know when she got wet, but somehow she’s soaked. Maybe it’s all the little teases she’s done since she came out of the shower. “I don’t need to hurt you, Kim. I need to understand why you’re trusting me.”
She shrugs. “Does there need to be a reason? I need you to make me feel good.”
“Why?”
She blushes. “I want to forget his name. Just for a little while.”