Her Perfect Man (20 page)

“What are you wearing? I thought I asked you to dress appropriately tonight.”

“It’s a party dress, mother. This is a party, isn’t it?” Kim knew she shouldn’t let the remark hurt her, but her mother’s disapproval dissolved her self-confidence like drop after drop of acid.

“I told you I’d send a check so you could buy something suitable. But you had to be stubborn. You don’t care if you spoil my evening.”

Angela picked her way out of the bedroom with Kim close behind, ready to save her from falling on her face. “Take it easy, Mom. I really doubt any of your guests care what I wear.”

“Your father has a position to maintain in this community, you know. And you’ve spent your whole life trying to undermine it. Who’s this?” she demanded when she nearly bumped into Charlie in the hall.

Kim would show her mother that she wasn’t a complete barbarian. She knew the rules according to Miss Manners. “He’s my escort. This is Charlie—um, Charles Keller.”

“Your
escort
? What, one of those men for hire?”

“No, mother.” Kim’s ears grew hot with embarrassment. “He’s my friend.”

Charlie heroically threw himself into the breach, stepping forward. “Mrs. Hansen. Thank you so much for having me. And congratulations on the happy occasion.”

Caught off guard, Kim’s mother murmured, “Yes. That is, thank you.” Her cosmetically enhanced lips twisted into something closer to a grimace than a smile.

Cheryl approached them. “Mother. I’ve spoken to the caterers. If they hold the food much longer, it’s going to be inedible.”

“Well, they have to wait. Tell them to do something, that’s what they’re paid for. Go and tell them your father will be here any minute.”

“Did he say that?” Cheryl’s features were strained with impatience.

“Of course. He was just on the phone with me.

There’s a terrible emergency at the hospital. It’s just…it’s terrible. Go tell them, Cheryl.”

She gesticulated toward the kitchen and staggered against Charlie. He gently took her arm.

“Let me take you outside,” he offered smoothly.

“Yes.” As Mrs. Hansen wobbled alongside him, her perfectly manicured nails curled into his sleeve.

“Now what is it you do, Mr. Kelly?” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as though she expected him to tell her he ran a meth lab or rode with a motorcycle gang.

“Keller. But please call me Charlie. All my friends do.” In spite of the extremely awkward situation, Kim’s heart gave a traitorous little flutter as she remembered how he first introduced himself to her. “I’m a teacher.”

Kim’s mother laughed. “Of course you are.”

Kim’s face flamed again. “He teaches Art. At the middle school.”

“Fine. At least you’re showing better judgment in your choice of friends.” She gave Charlie a sly sidelong look. “Has my daughter ever told you about some of her other
friends
?”

Charlie smiled blandly and ignored her question as he led her outside.

She caressed his sleeve with her talons. “Mr.

Kelly. Do be a dear and get me a drink.”

“No,” Kim said quickly. “No more drinks.”

Her mother sliced a glare at her. “I’ll get myself one then.” She disengaged herself from Charlie and proceeded with inebriated haughtiness to the open bar set up near the pool. Kim followed, then Charlie.

“Vodka, straight up,” Angela told the white-jacketed man tending bar. She smirked at Kim, who stood at her side tight-lipped as the bartender made the drink. “My daughter thinks I drink too much.

But she’s hardly one to throw stones, considering the way she’s lived her life. Has she told you about all the men she’s been with? All the trash? You know what they say about the company a person keeps.

That’s all I have to say, Mr. Kelly. Consider yourself warned.”

The chatter around the patio faded as the guests were drawn into the private drama.

“Thanks, Mom.” Kim’s chest ached. She trembled with cold, her arms pimpled with goose bumps. “Thanks for the kind words.”

Angela sniffed. “He has a right to know.”

“Angela, that’s enough,” one of the guests chided softly.

“Let me see if there’s some coffee in the kitchen,”

Charlie said.

“I don’t want coffee. I want my husband. It’s our anniversary. He should be here with me.
You’re
why he’s not here.” Angela pointed at Kim. “We’ve given you everything and you’ve done nothing but embarrass us. Ever since you turned up pregnant at fifteen.” She glared with all the venom that her botoxed face would allow. “He’s ashamed. He’s ashamed to be seen with you.”

Everyone went still in shock and embarrassment.

“Stop it.” Charlie’s voice crackled through the stunned silence like a bolt of lightning. “You have no right to speak to her that way. For God’s sake, she’s your
daughter.
”

A warm flood of gratitude filled Kim, dispelling her fog of misery. He
defended
her.

“More’s the pity,” Angela murmured as she took another sip of her drink.

Charlie’s defense gave Kim the courage to speak up. She took hold of the glass in her mother’s hand.

“I think you’ve had enough.”

Angela pulled away and for a few moments the two women grappled for the glass of vodka.

Suddenly the contents splashed in Kim’s face.

She stumbled back as the vodka hit, stinging her eyes. She turned away and suddenly found herself falling, flailing wildly at air, her stomach plummeting until she felt the cold slap of water and a tremendous splash. Then she knew what happened. She’d fallen into the pool.

Her nostrils burned as water surged in. She gulped a mouthful, then spat it out as her feet found the pool bottom. Her soggy dress clung to her form, her drenched hair was pasted to her face. Kim pushed it out of her eyes as a hand reached out to pull her up. Charlie’s.

With his help, she climbed out of the pool and stood there dripping, paralyzed with humiliation as the guests murmured in sympathy.

Charlie put his arm around her. “Are you all right?” His warm breath tickled her ear. All of him was warm and she was cold, shivering from her mother’s icy contempt.

“Stupid question.” He shrugged out of his jacket and slipped it over her shoulders.

“I’m wet,” she told him numbly. She’d spoil his suit jacket.

“Shh.” Charlie’s arm was around her once again.

“It’s all right.”

The commotion brought Cheryl rushing from the house. Gaping from Kim to her mother, she cried “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Angela gestured impatiently with her glass. There was no shame, no remorse in her demeanor. “It was an accident.”

Charlie stepped away from Kim, his blue eyes alight with rage. “That was no accident. And neither is this.” With one quick push, Charlie shoved Angela Hansen into the pool. Kim’s mouth fell open as her mother toppled into the water. The woman yelped in shock the moment she hit and screamed like a cat as several guests struggled to get her out.

“Get out of here. The both of you,” she shrieked, her bleached hair plastered to her head, black mascara running down her cheeks. Melting like the Wicked Witch of the West. “Teacher. I’ll have your job, you hear me? You little nobody. My husband’s a physif…a phys…a doctor. He can buy and sell you.

Get out.”

“We’re leaving.” Charlie turned to Kim, who stood like a stone, staring at him in awe. He scooped her into his arms and carried her toward the house.

“I’m taking you home.”

They had almost reached the front door when Cheryl called out. “Kim.”

Charlie hesitated, then waited for her to catch up with them. She held a large soft bath towel and gently dried Kim’s face. “She’s horrible. Such a bitch when she drinks. I’m sorry.”

Kim’s teeth chattered. “It’s…” She didn’t know how to finish. What could she say? That it didn’t matter? Of course it did. “Not your fault.”

Cheryl’s eyes were shadowed with hopelessness as she draped the towel around her sister’s shoulders. “Not just for this. For everything. For us not being closer.”

“It’s not your fault,” Kim repeated, meaning it with all her heart. She remembered what Cheryl told her earlier.
Neither one of our parents knows how to love anybody.

Love
was tied to achievements, doled out when one of them did something to reflect glory onto their parents and withheld when they messed up. How could she and Cheryl, growing up, show each other love when they had no frame of reference? But they were adults now. Maybe things could change.

“Let’s go.” Charlie spoke quietly. He carried her out the door.

“You can put me down,” she said. “I’m okay, I can walk.”

He only held her tighter. “No.”

She pressed her face to his shoulder. “You’re not going to drop me, are you? Like you did at your place?”

His mouth was tight. “I’ll be damned if I will.”

His male pride was at stake. She had to admit, she liked this take-charge side of him.

My hero
. And he was. The only man to ever defend her, to stand up for her.

It felt good in his arms. She held on tight and didn’t let go until they reached his car.

Kim insisted on walking up the stairs to her apartment on her own. She joked that Charlie had done enough heavy lifting for one evening.

But Charlie didn’t smile. He accompanied her upstairs and entered the apartment without waiting for an invitation. He smoothed the damp hair away from her face and let his hands drift down her arms.

“You’re shivering. Why don’t you change your clothes, get warm.”

She nodded. “Yeah.” Then, with a sudden jolt of fear, “You won’t leave?” She didn’t want to be alone.

“No. I’ll wait for you.”

She undressed in the bathroom and turned on the shower to warm up and wash out the chlorine.

As she stood under the hot spray, she heard the door open.

“Kim?”

“Yes?” She pulled the curtain open a bit and peeked out.

Charlie stood there, shirtless. Shoeless. “Can I join you?”

Kim dipped her head in a nod, her heart thumping. “Yes.”

He hesitated, his blue eyes serious. “Only if you want me to.”

“Yes.” To show him how much she wanted it, she drew the curtain back all the way. Quickly, he shucked off his pants and briefs. His cock rose as he stepped into the tub, closing the curtain. Enclosing them in a wet and misty world of their own.

He stood her under the spray and squeezed a

dollop of her coconut-scented shampoo into his palm, then gently rubbed it into her hair. Kim’s head fell back in bliss as his blunt fingers massaged her scalp.

Her entire body tingled, not only from the water sluicing over her, but from his touch. He soaped a net bath puff and smoothed lather over every inch of her skin.

The silkiness of the lather, the slight scratchiness of the bath puff, the steaminess of the bathroom, but most of all the warmth of Charlie’s body made Kim’s skin prickle with sexual desire.

Her face flushed, her lips plumped, her pussy grew creamy and slick with need.

She turned to him, grasped him around the neck, and pulled him close for a wet and slightly soapy kiss. Their tongues entwined, and Kim’s hands slid over his slippery skin, searching for a solid hold. She rubbed her belly against his cock, rock-hard now. She wanted to touch him, stroke the velvety-soft skin stretching over his rigid shaft.

“Move back, just a little,” he told her. As she obeyed, he slipped his hand between her thighs and dipped into the mouth of her pussy, capturing a different wetness. Slippery now with her moisture, his fingers swirled and whisked, grazing her clit.

Sparks shot up her spine. A shimmer of heat climbed her body, starting between her thighs. Her clit ached with the need to come, her belly grew heavy, her breasts taut and sore. Charlie’s face grew hazy.

One more brush against her clit and she came, the climax crackling along nerves to her fingers and toes. Kim bit her lower lip and dug her nails into his upper arms, sure that if she let go, she’d buckle to the floor of the tub.

But Charlie held her, his arms strong. She could count on him. He wouldn’t let her fall. He kissed her again, taking his time, easily nuzzling her lips. She caressed his cock, but he only smiled gently as he moved her hand away.

Kim’s chest ached with hurt. Had he given her an orgasm because he felt sorry for her? She didn’t want that, didn’t only want to take. She wanted to give, and make him feel good, too. She kissed him hungrily. “I’m not a broken doll. I want you, Charlie. All of you, now. Please.”

 He kissed the side of her face. “There’s no condom, sweetheart.”

The endearment made her shiver. “It’s all right.

I’m on the pill and I’ve been tested.”

“So have I. It’s all good. Can you do this?” He urged her to lift her leg around his hip.

“Can you keep your footing? We’ll slip.” She laughed as water pelted her face. Shower sex was a lot easier in the movies than in real life.

He sank to his knees in the tub. “Let’s do this.”

His fingers gripped her hips and ass as he guided her down to straddle him.

“Oh.” She sucked in her breath as he thrust inside. It felt so good, skin to skin, nothing at all between them. Tears pricked her eyes. Their hands slipped on each other’s wet, soapy skin as their hips bumped and swerved. Kim moaned in need while laughing at the clumsiness of their movements.

The ache burned. She ground her clit against him once more, and sparklers pinwheeled behind her eyes as her pussy gripped him in orgasm. He came, too, his hot spray jetting inside her.

They slumped in each other’s arms, their hold gradually loosening. Charlie smoothed the wet hair off her face and kissed her.

Kim blinked at him, foolishly shy and tongue-tied. “Hi.”

“Hi. The water’s cooling off. We should finish up.” He helped her stand and became all business, conditioning and rinsing her hair, turning off the water. When she stepped out of the tub, he patted her dry. He dried himself with the same towel, then wrapped it around his waist Tarzan-style.