Authors: Kaylee Ryan
Tags: #Romance, #New Adult & College, #Teen & Young Adult, #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction, #Contemporary
“MY TURN,” I hear his deep voice rumble behind me.
I hear Maxton growl as he wraps his arms around my waist and turns me to face him, holding me tight against his chest. Words aren’t necessary; he says everything with his eyes. Those gorgeous eyes are currently locked on mine. I slide my hands up around his neck, threading my fingers through his hair. He releases a heavy sigh as he tightens his grip on my waist and we start to move. I’m not sure you can even call what we’re doing dancing. He’s holding me so tight, it’s more of a small sway back and forth. I’ve had a few drinks, more than I normally would. I don’t know why, but something tells me it’s okay to let loose a little with Maxton around. I definitely would not have fallen willingly into his arms if I were sober.
When the song comes to an end, Maxton leans his forehead against mine. “You’re a perfect fit for my arms.” His deep timber causes me to melt. Right there in the middle of the dance floor, I melt. Something about the way he says it, like he doesn’t really want to but he can’t help himself.
Standing to his full height he releases me, but not completely. He places his hand on the small of my back and leads me back to our table.
Maxton pulls out the seat that I occupied before Lance asked me to dance. I automatically sit, thankful, as my knees are still jelly from his words. Leaning in, he whispers, “What do you want to drink?” His hot breath sends a cold chill through my body.
I tilt my head up to give him my answer, and we’re now close, too close. His face is not even an inch from mine. “Water,” I whisper. The next thing I know, he closes the distance and places a soft kiss against the corner of my mouth. It happens so quick that it’s over before I can process that he just kissed me. He kissed me in front of the entire bar.
I can feel the embarrassment heat my cheeks. Instead of turning to face our friends, and my embarrassment, I watch him go. Through the fuzziness in my brain, I know I’m playing with fire. I know flirting with him, allowing him to kiss me, is a mistake. He’s going to take what he wants and forget he ever met me. I’m starting to wonder if that’s really such a bad thing. Surrendering to what he wants, a night in bed with me, is bound to be a night to remember. He’s already too close. Closer than any other has reached in a really long time.
I’m startled when the chair besides mine squeaks across the floor. Maxton settles his large frame into it, setting my water in front of me. I quickly grab the bottle, twist off the lid, and bring it to my lips. I tilt my head back and savor the cool liquid as it coats my throat. I down over half the bottle before I take a break. Realizing I didn’t thank Maxton, I turn to do just that. The words get stuck in my throat. He’s watching me. His eyes are on me. Eyes that are filled with want and desire. He takes my breath away. I can’t tear my eyes off him. This is becoming a habit, and I know for sure with the alcohol running through my veins, I don’t have the power to fight it. To control how I feel when he’s around. I turn my body to face him; it’s like a gravitational pull, this effect he has on me. I wish I could blame it on the alcohol, but I can’t. The alcohol just makes me admit what it really is.
Attraction.
Lifting his hand, Maxton softly rubs his thumb across my lips. The rough pad of his thumb causes me to close my eyes and savor his touch. Keeping my eyes closed, I try to calm my heart, which is suddenly racing. I can feel the steady rise and fall of my chest. “Kensi.” Maxton tries to get my attention. I squeeze my eyes closed tight and focus on deep even breaths. I feel his hand snake around my neck and pull me toward him. My forehead lands against his hard chest, which I notice has a rapid rise and fall like mine. One hand stays on my neck, his thumb stroking gently. The other wraps around my waist and I shiver at the contact.
“Kensi,” his voice is low, next to my ear, “let’s get you home, sweetheart.”
Home. Yes, that’s what I need. I need to go home, climb into my bed, sleep off my buzz, and never drink around Maxton again.
I manage to nod against his chest, still not willing to open my eyes. Even though I know it’s wrong, I want to bask in his warmth for as long as I can.
“Kens.” Nicole is trying to get my attention. I ignore her, wanting to stay in my Maxton bubble, oblivious to anything else. “Kens,” she says again. This time she’s closer. I feel her hand touch my arm. Turning my head, I blink open my eyes to look at her. “Hey, Brighton invited us to go riding with them tomorrow. What do you think?”
I can’t think about tomorrow; I can only think about now. This moment with his strong arms wrapped around me, and his smell invading my senses.
“Kensington, are you even listening to me?” I can tell she’s getting irritated.
“She’s had too much to drink and obviously she’s exhausted. I’m taking her home. I’ll see you guys there,” Maxton informs her.
“Wait! You mean you’re taking her to our apartment, right?” Nicole, always my protector. “Kens, are you okay with him taking you home?”
Realizing she’s not going to let me leave until I answer her, I reluctantly lift my head from his chest to address her. “Yes, he can take me home. I just want to go to sleep.”
Nicole studies me before asking, “What about tomorrow, are you in?”
Releasing a heavy sigh, my forehead drops back to Maxton’s chiseled chest. “Yes, fine, whatever. Can we go now?” I’m frustrated, not really with Nicole, but with myself. I know I should not be leaning on him like this, but I don’t have the will power not to at this point.
“Great. We’ll be right behind you,” she chirps. Damn she’s too fucking chipper.
Now that she’s satisfied, I can finally go home. I lift my head to look at Maxton. He’s already staring down at me. “Can we go home now?”
HER WORDS CAUSE a tremor to run through my veins. I know what she meant, but it’s the way it sounded. Her sweet voice asking if we can go home, together. I quickly shake off the thought of me and her as one unit. That’s not what I’m about. Instead, I focus on her. She’s clearly exhausted; mix that with the alcohol and she’s dead on her feet. I realize she’s waiting for my answer.
I place my arm around her shoulders and bring her as close to me as possible. My large frame causes people to move out of our path as we make our way outside. Once we reach my truck, I open her door, place my hands on her hips, and lift her into the passenger seat. She starts to giggle as soon as her feet leave the ground. That’s the second time I’ve heard that sound tonight, and this time it’s for me. I reach in to buckle her seat belt. Her head is already turned sideways; she’s settled in for the drive home. I place a kiss on her temple, because I just can’t fucking help myself.
The drive to her apartment is what most would call uneventful. I, however, cannot call it that, not at all. The cab of my truck smells like her. The sound of her breathing fills the air around us. This does nothing to dull the ache I have to be inside of her. The smell of her and the gentle sound of her sleeping peacefully will always be associated with this truck. I’ve never wanted someone, hell, anything, this bad. Ever!
Reaching our destination, I park and turn the truck off. I grasp the handle, and take one more look at Kensington before opening the door. The moonlight is filtering in through the window, casting a gentle glow. She’s so fucking beautiful it takes my breath away. I’m frozen in place, just watching her sleep. I’m going to have to buy a new fucking truck because this night, her bathed in the moonlight, sleeping soundly, will forever be engrained in my memory.
Careful not to wake her, I quietly slip out of the truck. Bright pulls up next to me, so I wait for them to join me. “She’s sound asleep. Can you unlock the door?” I ask this of Brighton. I know the girls come home by themselves all the time, but I would never forgive myself if we sent either one of them in alone and something were to happen while we were here. Bright holds his hand out for Nicole’s keys and kisses her on the cheek.
“Would you mind closing the door quietly, once I have her out of the truck? I really hate to wake her.” I sound like a pansy-ass, but I don’t really care. She needs her rest.
Nicole salutes me with a smirk, but says nothing. Once I have Kensi in my arms, I carry her into the apartment and down the hall to her room. I don’t bother turning on the light. I place her on the bed as gently as I can, trying hard not to wake her. As soon as her body hits the softness of her mattress, she curls up in a ball and sighs. The sight brings a smile to my face. Once she settles, I take a seat on the bed and slowly ease her shoes off her feet. I know she’s going to have a killer headache in the morning. Nicole confirmed this as well. Kensington doesn’t usually drink, so she’ll definitely be feeling the effects tomorrow.
I stand to go search for some Ibuprofen and a glass of water. I want to have it ready in case she wakes up in the night. The sooner she takes it and starts to hydrate, the better she will be. I feel her hand wrap around mine, which stops me from leaving.
“Thank you,” she whispers into the quiet room.
Not able to resist the pull, I sit back down on the bed. My hand automatically reaches for an errant curl that’s hanging down over her eyes and tuck it behind her ear. “You’re welcome. I’m going to get you some water and something to take for that headache.”
“I don’t have a headache,” she mumbles.
“You will. I’ll be right back.” I stand to resume my search of headache meds and water. I want to kiss her, even just on the forehead. Anywhere my lips can make contact with her skin.
I pass Nicole and Brighton in the hallway. Bright tells me he’s spending the night. Nicole asks about Kens and I assure her she will be fine, like I would let her be anything but. She directs me to the headache medicine, we say goodnight, and they disappear behind Nicole’s bedroom door. It doesn’t escape me that neither one of them asked if I was staying or heading home.
I quickly grab what I need and add the trashcan from the laundry room to the list. Just in case she gets sick. I don’t think she’s to that stage, but better safe than sorry. I find her right where I left her. Sitting the trashcan by the bed, I take a seat next to her. I rub my hand up and down her arm. “Kensi, wake up. You need to go ahead and take these.” She can’t be in too deep of a slumber; I was barely gone five minutes. Her eyes slowly flutter open. “The sooner you take this, the better you will feel in the morning.” She reaches for my hand and I pull her to a sitting position.
She takes the Ibuprofen and sucks down the water without complaint. I throw the empty bottle into the trashcan and make a mental note to grab another before I leave.
“Can’t sleep in this,” she mumbles. She then lifts the hem of her sweater and tries to pull it over her head.
I avert my gaze, trying to offer her some privacy. It takes every ounce of will power I have. I want nothing more than to let my eyes roam over every inch of her body. I reach down and adjust myself as I have a sudden situation, which seems to happen a lot in the presence of Miss Kensington.
“A little help here,” she huffs out.
Taking a deep breath, I turn to see what she needs. She has somehow gotten herself tangled up in her sweater and it’s stuck over her head. I would laugh, but her bare belly and the bottom of what appears to be a black lace bra are mocking me.
“Maxton!” she whines.
This has me jumping into action. I reach for the hem of her shirt and tug upward. In one smooth motion, it’s removed from her body. I toss it across the room into the chair in the corner. I don’t bother looking away this time. I think it might kill me to try. Her plump, round breasts are swaddled in black lace, begging for me to touch, to taste, to savor them.
She ambles to her feet and begins to unbutton her jeans. Tearing my eyes away from her breasts, I’m a spectator as she shimmies her hips from side to side, trying to rid herself of the tight material. “Help.”
Not needing to be asked twice, I fall to my knees and place my hands on her hips, stilling her little jig, which doesn’t seem to be earning her the desired results. She places her hands on my shoulders to keep from falling over. Not able to help myself, I place a kiss right above her belly button. Her body quivers beneath my lips. I want her. I thought I wanted her before, but now seeing her like this, I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. I need to sink inside of her, like I need air to breathe… just not tonight. She’s been drinking and I couldn’t do that to her. I want her lucid when she makes that decision. I push back the thought of wanting her to want me, Maxton, just as much as I want her. I refuse to try and decipher what that even means.
Resting my forehead against her belly, I concentrate on taking deep even breaths. She removes her hands from my shoulders and begins running them through my hair. This simple act from each of us feels more intimate than any sexual encounter I’ve ever experienced. With one final deep breath, I grab onto either side of her jeans and begin to pull them off her. Steadying herself on my shoulders once again, she steps out one leg at a time.
“Ca-Can you hand me a shirt?” She points to the dresser. “Bottom drawer.”
Without moving from my position, I reach out and pull open the drawer. I grab the first shirt I come to and hand it to her. Climbing to my feet, intending to give her privacy, I stop short at the sound of her next question. “Can you unhook me?” Her arms drop to her sides as if she doesn’t have the strength to continue to try on her own.
Holy shit, but this girl is testing me. I’m so fucking hard right now I could break concrete. I have to remind myself it’s the alcohol talking. No way would she be asking me to help her if she were sober. I know it’s an asshole move, but I’m going to do it. No way in hell am I going to pass up a chance to see all of her. I just need to remain in control.
My index finger finds its way to the strap on her shoulder. I work my way underneath and slowly run my finger to where the strap ends just above her breast and back up to her shoulder. Knowing I’m playing with fire, I remove my finger from under the strap and pull her to stand in front of me. Once she has her balance, I turn her to face the bed. Gathering up her soft curls, I tuck all of them over one shoulder, exposing her back. I slowly unhook her. I want this moment to last as long as possible. I have no idea how long it will be before I’m with her like this again, or if ever. I need memories to carry me through.
Once she’s unhooked, the straps slip from her shoulders. I close my eyes, fighting to gain control. I don’t open them until my name falls from her lips. “Maxton.”
My eyes pop open to see she has turned back around and is now facing me. Her hands are placed over her breasts, holding her bra in place. It takes extreme effort to not look below her face. “Kensington,” I copy her.
With the sound of her name, she drops her hands and her bra goes with them. Standing before me, she’s completely bare except for a tiny pair of black lace panties. The sight of her rips all the air from my lungs. My heart skips a beat and my mouth waters all at the same time. As I focus on breathing, my heart hammering in my chest, I stare at her. Yes, it’s rude as hell, but what man would pass up a chance to look at perfection. She has her hand over the top of her right breast and I decide that just won’t do. If this is the only time I’m ever going to witness her, I want it all.
Nothing in the way.
I reach for her wrist and she shakes her head no.
I trace above her left breast with my index finger, outlining its form. I try again to move her hand and she shakes her head no again. “Kensi, baby, I need to see all of you.” I can’t tell if it’s fear in her eyes or just her non-trusting nature. I bring both hands to her face and cup her cheeks. Bending down so we are eye to eye, I promise her, “I will never do anything you are not ready for or don’t want. All you have to do is say stop. This goes not farther than looking and maybe a soft caress, nothing more. I want you in my bed, Kens. Hell, I want you anywhere you will have me, but I want you sober.” Leaving one hand on her face, the other goes to the hand covering her right breast. I have no idea what she’s hiding, but I want to find out. I want to know every inch of her skin.
“May I?” I ask permission this time. Something I never do. If the girl doesn’t want what I have to offer or want to take part in what I have planned, she can roll on. That is until Kensington. I can continue to try and hide it, deny it even. It doesn’t make it any less true.
She’s different.
I watch as she gives me a slight nod of her head. Reluctantly agreeing. “Use your voice, Kens. I need you to tell me it’s okay.” I need her to understand that she has the power. She says stop, I stop. It’s just that simple.
“Yes.” Her voice trembles.
Slowly, I pull her hand away from her breast. At first I don’t notice anything. The overwhelming effect of seeing her, all of her, blinds me. It’s when I study where her hand was that I see it. A faint scar about two inches long on her breast. Without thinking, I lean down and kiss the evidence of something that was obviously painful for her in more ways than one. Standing to my full height, she immediately wraps her trembling arms around my waist. I do the same with one arm and trace the swell of her breast with my free hand as I did the first time. I want her to see the scar does nothing to clamp my desire for her. It does nothing to take away from how beautiful she is. Something deep inside me needs her to know that, to believe it.
She nods once and I can tell it’s going to take some convincing to get her to see herself the way I do. “Let’s get you dressed.” I reach for the shirt on the bed. I help her into it and pull the covers back. She climbs into bed.
“Stay, just until I fall asleep?” she asks. As if I would ever be able to tell this girl no. I climb in beside her and pull the covers up over us. She lays her head on my chest and I wrap my arm around her. Within a few minutes, her breathing has evened out and I know she’s fallen asleep. I, however, do not. I was only supposed to stay until she fell asleep, that’s what she asked for, but I can’t seem to find the willpower to climb out of this bed, at least not with her in it. Instead, I run my fingers through her hair and watch as the shadows play on the ceiling. This is another first for me. I run the entire night over and over again in my head until the early morning sun starts to rise and casts its glow through the window. Reluctantly, I slowly slide out from underneath her, kiss her softly on the forehead, and leave her room.