Angel of Redemption (78 page)

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

I don’t bother moving while she’s in there. I
want to see her face when she sees where I’ve brought her.

“Oh my God. I feel so much be
—holy
shit!” Kayla gasps. I smirk. Standing here, we can see through the house to the
back wall of the living room, which is made up entirely of windows looking over
the beach and Lake Michigan. Kayla wanders toward the windows and gazes out at
the water. “Wow.”

Walking up behind her, I slide my arm over her
shoulders. “Nice view, huh?”

“It’s incredible.”

It’s Memorial Day weekend, so the beach is busy,
but it’s not overly crowded. I pull Kayla toward the sliding glass doors that
open onto the deck. The sky is clear, and the sun is directly above us. The
heat feels good. Kayla pulls her sunglasses down from the top of her head and
leans over the railing.

“I love the smell out here,” she says, inhaling.

“I know.” After a few minutes I look down at her.
“You want to see the rest of the house?”

She turns and nods, a content smile on her face. “I’d
love to.
”

We walk back inside, and I show her the kitchen,
the loft, and the spare bedroom. I leave the master bedroom for last because I
want her, and I fully intend on taking her when we get there. She knows it,
too. She unzips her hoodie and pulls it off, dropping it to the floor in the
hallway. Walking behind her, I slide the straps of her tank top out of the way
and kiss her shoulder. Her breathing gets heavier when I wrap my arm around her
waist and flatten my hand on her stomach. I move my lips up her neck and behind
her ear.

“Wanna make a little noise?” I whisper.

“No,” Kayla pants. I pull back, surprised.

“You don’t?”

She turns in my arms, putting her hands on my
chest. “I wanna make
a
lot
of noise.”

Jumping up into my arms, she wraps her legs
around my waist and crashes her mouth against mine. I carry her the rest of the
way to the bedroom. Luckily, the blinds that cover the windows overlooking the
beach are closed, because I wouldn’t be able to pull myself away from her even
if they were open. With her still attached to me, I yank the comforter and
sheets to the bottom of the bed and lay her down. She lets go long enough to
pull her tank top off and unclip her bra. I whip my shirt off over my head and
fall back over her.

She’s so beautiful right now, her cheeks all pink
and her eyes bright. She’s not wearing any makeup; she doesn’t need it. I feel
her hand drifting up my side and over my back. It’s always a weird sensation
when she traces my scars. Not bad, just weird. I can feel the pressure, but I
can’t feel her actual touch where the nerve endings are damaged.

I kiss her again, trying to pour how I feel about
her into the kiss. I think she knows, but I want to make sure. Reaching down, I
flick open the button on her shorts and slip my hand underneath her panties.
She’s so fucking wet that my fingers slide inside her with ease. She moans and
pushes her hips upward.

“You’re gonna kill me one of these days, you know
that?” I groan.

“Why?” she whimpers.

“Feel my heart.” She puts her hand over my chest.
It’s beating like a fucking jackhammer, and I’m barely moving. “You do that to
me all the time.”

She grins. “I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not. Oh,
God,” she breathes, closing her eyes.

I remove my hand from her pants and kneel down on
the floor to take them off. I’m in the perfect position to taste her. Normally
I would take my time kissing and licking up her thigh, but I’m too impatient. I
push her legs apart and drag my tongue right up her center. Her hips lift off
the bed. I spend five minutes playing with her, strategically keeping her from
coming. Every time I think she’s close, I slow down. I can tell she’s getting
frustrated by the little huffs and puffs, so I give in and begin flicking my
tongue rapidly. I have to hold her hips down as they buck wildly.

“Dean!” she screeches as I pull away one last
time. I cover her with my body again and look down.

“I want to be inside you,” I murmur. Standing up,
I take off my pants and free my solid cock. It juts straight out in front of
me, ready for her. Within seconds, I enter her and let out a groan of
satisfaction and anticipation. “Fuck, you feel good.” I pull out and push back
in slowly a few times. Watching my dick disappear inside her is so fucking
erotic. I’m completely mesmerized.

“Go. Please,” she pleads softly. I oblige her,
and the instant I speed up, she comes, her mouth opening just enough to let her
cries echo off the walls. I keep pounding, not giving her a chance to relax. I
can feel the blood pulsing through my cock, but I’m trying to hold off. One
more
—I want to give her one more before I get there. I withdraw
and flip her over. She scrambles onto her hands and knees as I plunge into her
from behind. She thrusts her ass back into me, hard. I grunt. I’m not going to
last long.

My senses are on overload. The feeling of her
around my cock is only enhanced by the sound of wet, slapping skin and the
smell of sex. I push gently on Kayla’s back so she lowers herself down on her
forearms. This position changes the angle, and I go even deeper. Kayla yelps,
and I feel her tightening. I move faster, my hips and thighs aching, but it’s
all worth it when I push her over the edge and then follow, pulsing and
throbbing, emptying into her as she trembles beneath me.

I wince as I pull out. I’m still twitching and
everything’s so fucking sensitive. Kayla rolls over onto her back and sighs
happily.

“Thank you.”

I collapse and throw my arm over her. “Always my
pleasure.”

Dean

After a short nap, I wake
to voices and laughter coming from somewhere outside. Climbing out of bed, I
take a look through the shades to see the sun is much lower in the sky. The
people staying next door are out on their deck grilling and drinking. I walk
back across the room and start to get dressed.

“Where are you going?” Kayla asks sleepily.

“I’m gonna make a run to the grocery store and
stock up. Go back to sleep.”

“Will you get some strawberry Pop-Tarts?”

I chuckle and lean down to give her a kiss.
“Absolutely, baby.”

South Haven is a picturesque little town in
southwest Michigan. It’s a mecca for tourists. It’s not overwhelming, though. I’ve
been here a handful of times with my parents, but it’s been awhile. I’ve
forgotten how beautiful it is. Or maybe I just have a new appreciation for it.
I end up having to go to both the Farm Market and the general store to pick up
everything I need, but I’m able to get enough to last us through the weekend.

Kayla’s sitting outside in a lounge chair when I
get back to the house. Her eyes are closed, but she opens them when I walk
through the sliding door.

“Hey.” I say.

“Hi. You get everything?”

“Yep.” I pull the cover off the grill and check
to make sure there’s propane in the tank. I turn it on and light the grill. “I
got steak, potatoes, and corn on the cob for dinner.”

“That sounds really good. I’m starving. I’ve been
smelling the neighbors
’ barbecue for the last forty-five minutes, and
you had all the snacks with you in the car.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.” She gets up and wraps her arms
around my waist. “This really is a beautiful place. Thank you for bringing me
here.”

“You’re welcome,” I say, kissing her head. “I’m
glad you agreed to let me steal you away. I know it’s not fancy, but
…”

She puts her finger against my lips. “This is
perfect. I love it.”

We grill and eat, drink and talk. I sit down on
the lounger to get comfortable. Kayla disappears inside and comes back out with
a blanket. She sits down between my legs and pulls the blanket over us before
leaning back against my chest.

On the beach in front of us are a woman and a
little girl who looks like she’s about five. She lets the waves hit her toes
and squeals with laughter, running back to the woman I assume is her mother.
They hold hands and walk away. Kayla takes a deep breath.

“I wonder how Claire’s doing,” she says quietly.

“I’m sure she’s doing fine. The retreat will be
good for her.”

“I know, but I still worry. You think Logan’s
okay?”

“No, but it’s good for him, too,” I chuckle.

“I’m going to have to tell Matty I’m not his
worker soon.”

“Kayla,” I sigh. “Let’s not talk about it this
weekend, okay? You think about everyone else all the time. Take a couple of
days to just relax. Please?”

“I’m very relaxed,” she assures.

“Good.”

“Are you?” she asks after a minute. I smirk
—she
knows me too well.

“I’m getting there.”

“Good.”

We watch the sun as it descends over Lake
Michigan, leaving oranges, pinks, and yellows behind it. Once it’s completely
dark, Kayla stands up.

“Let’s go to bed.”

“It’s only nine o’clock,” I say, looking up at
her.

“Exactly.” Her tongue darts out and wets her
lower lip before she draws it in-between her teeth. I practically fall out of
the chair trying to get up as fast as I can.

* * *

Sunday is the first day in
for-fucking-ever that I don’t wake up early. I not only don’t wake up early, I
am out cold until after nine. I don’t have a single nightmare, but I do dream.
I dream that Kayla and I are here at the beach house. We’re grilling and
laughing. She’s at the railing, facing the water. Her back is to me so I can’t
see her face, but I know it’s her. I’d know her anywhere. She’s wearing a white
dress, and it’s blowing in the breeze. I walk over to join her and to see what
she’s laughing at. Below us is a little girl—three, maybe four years old.
She’s sitting in the sand, her feet buried, a shell necklace around her neck.

“Look at me, Daddy,” she squeals. She looks just
like Kayla, and I have an overwhelming surge of emotion when she smiles at me.
Kayla finally turns to me, and I have to take a step back because her belly is
huge. She rubs her hand over it and then grabs my hand, pressing it firmly
against the bump.

“I love you,” she says softly.

“I love you, too,” I answer easily.

I wake to Kayla’s back pressed against my chest.
My arm is around her, my hand resting on her tit like it usually is. Her
breathing is normal, but her heart is beating fast. I wonder if she’s dreaming,
too. I let my hand slide down over her flat stomach. I’m not sure if I’m
relieved or disappointed to wake from the dream. Ever since I found out Abigail
wasn’t mine, I
’ve rejected the very idea of having kids. But now…now I
find myself toying with the possibility.

I push away the thoughts and distract myself by
groping Kayla into consciousness. We don’t make a lot of noise this time. I don’t
seem to be able to speak due to the images fucking with my head, and Kayla
simply whimpers every time I thrust into her.

We don’t shower together because the shower’s smaller
than a fucking bread box. When I get out, however, I’m greeted by Kayla
standing in nothing but my T-shirt with coffee in one hand and a plate with two
Pop-Tarts on it in the other.

“Wow, I think I just came again,” I tease,
offering her a kiss as I take the goods from her. She strips off my shirt,
leaving it on the floor, and sways her hips on her way to the bathroom.

A little later, she joins me on the deck and lies
down on top of me on the lounger. We stay like that for awhile, listening to
the surf and the people on the beach.

“Dean?” she says, breaking the silence.

“Hmm?”

“How’d therapy go last week?” I tense a little,
and I know she feels it. “You don’t have to tell me, I was just wondering.”

“No, it’s okay.” I relax and run my hand through
her hair. “There wasn
’t much to it.”

“Do you like the therapist?”

“He’s
… Yeah, so far. I mean, he’s all
right. I told him about the accident and Stephanie. I think he’s going to try
to help me deal with it all; sort through it.”

“That’s good.”

I tilt her chin up with my index finger. “You
know how I feel about you, right?”

“I think so.”

“Know so. I’m not fucking around, Kayla. You’re
everything to me. I’m getting myself
…unfucked for you.”

“Unfucked?” She laughs.

I shrug. “Yeah. Whatever. You know what I mean.” She
nods and then sighs.

“Dean. I love you the way you are now. You are
compassionate and loving and patient.”

“I’m not really patient.
”

She purses her lips. “You are patient. I see you
with those boys. Not many people could do what you do. Regardless, if you think
you need to get
…unfucked, don’t feel like you need to do it for me. Do
it for yourself.”

I bend my head down and close the distance
between us. The kiss starts out innocent enough, but progresses quickly. Kayla
rolls so she’s sitting on top of me. It isn’t until we hear laughter and
whistles that we pull apart. The kids next door start clapping.

“Whoops,
” Kayla giggles. I just hum and
shake my head. “What do you want to do today?” she asks.

“I thought we could head over to the lighthouse.
Maybe go to the Kal-Haven Trail and take a hike.
”

“Can we pack a lunch? Have a picnic?”

I smile at her. “We can do whatever you want,
sweetheart.”

* * *

The rest of the day is
spent doing touristy shit. Normally, I hate this kind of thing and avoid it as
much as possible, but it’s not so bad this time. Kayla makes some poor old dude
take four hundred pictures of us in front of the lighthouse. It’s a good
fucking thing the camera’s digital, because half the pictures are crooked or
out of focus.

We get back to the house by mid-afternoon, just
as a storm is blowing in. I turn on the electric fireplace, and we curl up on
the couch. As the rain pours down outside and the fog swallows up the beach, we
make love and fall asleep to the sound of the waves crashing wildly against the
shore.

“I think we must be characters in some sort of
novel or movie,” Kayla says as we’re walking barefoot along the beach after
dinner.

“Why?” I laugh.

“Because in the last few weeks we’ve had
violence, drama, and romance.
”

“And sex,” I add.

“Okay, so it’s an erotic novel or movie.”

I laugh. “So what comes next?”

“I don’t know. I guess it depends on whether we’ve
hit our climax or not.”

“Oh, we’ve hit our climax,” I snort. “Many
times.”

“You’re such a perv.” She hits my chest with the
back of her hand.

“Hey, I’m just keeping it real, baby.”

She laughs and twirls under my arm. “I guess that
means all that’s left is the happy ending, then.”

I pull her to me, kissing her temple. It’s a nice
thought, and I hope it’s true. Being here with her, away from Minneapolis and
all of our responsibilities and memories, it’s easy to forget; easy to believe
that we really are the heroes of some fucking sappy love story. But the truth
is, we’re not. Eventually, we have to go home, and I will have to tell her the
truth about Stephanie. Even if she forgives me for not telling her everything
—even
if I can be everything she needs—there are no guarantees.

“Stop thinking so much, Dean,” Kayla interrupts
my brooding, pulling away and turning around so she’s walking backward. “You’re
too young for that gigantic wrinkle you have in the middle of your forehead.”

My hand automatically goes up to feel for a
groove. “There’s no
…” Kayla grins at me. “You think you’re funny?” She
nods and continues walking backward. “You’re not so funny.”

“Yeah, I kinda am.” She tries running, but I don’t
know why
—it never works out for her. It takes me four long strides
to reach her. Picking her up, I run toward the water. “Dean, don’t!” she
screeches, clutching at me and flailing her legs.

“What’s that, sweetheart? I can’t hear you over all
my laughter ‘cause you’re so funny.
” The water’s pretty damn cold. The
waves hit my knees, and I consider just letting her go, but that doesn’t happen
like it’s supposed to. When I try to put her down, she thinks I’m going to dump
her and ends up yanking me forward. I stumble and fall into her, and the two of
us go crashing into the waves. Water goes up my nose and stings my eyes. “What
was that?” I ask, coughing as I stand up and help her get her balance.

“I figured if I was going in, so were you.” She
wrinkles her nose and sneezes.

I shake my head and look down at myself. My shirt
is clinging to my chest; my pants are heavy and sagging. Then I look at Kayla,
who looks a little like a drowned puppy, and start laughing.

“Shut up,” she grumbles with a smile on her face.

We trudge our way out of the water and head back
to the house, climbing the stairs to the deck. At the top, she faces me. She’s
standing in the exact position she was in my dream.

“I love you, Dean,” she says quietly. “Thank you
for this weekend.”

I know how I feel, but the fucking words still
won’t come out. I don’t know why I’m holding back. Fear? Anxiety? Maybe it’s my
subconscious telling me that I need to be honest with her before I can say the
words.

I wrap my hands around her head, cradling her
cheeks between my palms.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to
me.” I kiss her with everything I have and then sweep her off her feet to carry
her inside. It’s our last night here, and I don’t want to waste it.