Stripped Raw (18 page)

Day one of
my vacation, and I’ve proven myself a complete asshole. I know Kenzie is trustworthy, but it’s not her I worry about. It’s guys like my stepbrother, Deacon, that worry me. I hate coming off—even a little bit—like a possessive dickhead, like her ex-boyfriend.

It’s time to distract myself, and I’m not going to do it by checking email and voicemail or diving straight into work. That’s normally what I’d do, but this is my vacation, and work wouldn’t be satisfying now, not that it ever really is. Besides, I’m here to help Kenzie get organized, so I develop a plan of attack. I’m hardly a master carpenter, but I’m capable of doing basic stuff. And instructional YouTube videos help, too.

I take a trip to the home improvement store and return to Kenzie’s apartment ready to work. Strapping a tool belt to my waist, I spend the afternoon measuring walls, drilling and hammering, painting shelves, cleaning and straightening things up. I take a step back and look at what I’ve done. No one would suspect a trial lawyer had done this work. Most lawyers don’t know which end of a screwdriver to use, but this looks pretty kick-ass. There’s a lot more to do over the next few days, but this is a good start.

I head to her bathroom to wash up. It’s getting pretty late, and I hope things are going well for her and that she’s not pissed about what happened earlier. A loud noise from the shop makes my head turn. Those damn shelves better not have collapsed. I turn the corner expecting to see a disaster but instead find Kenzie standing in the middle of the room, several bags at her feet. She slowly spins around, her eyes moving over the painted shelves, equipment properly stored, fabrics hanging up and organized by color like her shoes.

“I can’t believe you did all this,” she whispers. “You spent your whole day on me, to help me. You must be exhausted.”

Five minutes ago, I was tired, but the way she’s looking at me renews my energy. “You must be exhausted, too?”

She shakes her head and wraps her arms around my neck, her fingers grazing the stubble on my face and running through my hair. “You are an incredible man.” She kisses me softly on the lips and unhooks the tool belt, placing it on her design table. She has this look in her eyes—a burning desire. Now I know I said it wasn’t a race or a contest, and I know I made this big speech about her needs coming before mine, but I do have needs, and it’s been a long while since a woman met them. I hope this is going where I think it is! She turns around and arches her back, pressing her ass against me.

I know how sensitive she is about her body, her ass especially, and am glad she isn’t getting hung up on it with me anymore. I’m glad she knows how much I love it. I slide my hand under her shirt and inch it up slowly. “Mmm,” she moans as I wrap my fingers around her tit. Her ass moves up and down against me, rubbing me perfectly. She reaches for the bottom of her shirt and lifts it over her head.

As much as I like my dick pulsing against her ass, I have to see her. I turn her around and pin her against the wall, pushing her hair behind her shoulders and taking her all in. I lift my hand to her cheek, and she leans into the palm of my hand. Naughty girl, I know exactly what’s she thinking. She flashes me a wicked grin and places a gentle kiss in my palm before switching gears, pushing me down on the table until I’m flat on my back.

“I want you in the palm of my hand—now,” she says, reaching down between my legs. She rubs me gently, and I groan at the contact, pulling her to my mouth, kissing her hard. She tugs at my clothes and pulls them off, except for my boxer briefs, then moves up to straddle me on the table. Her fingers trace down my abs, circling my belly button and gently playing with the trail of hair disappearing under the band. She sits up and slides off the last piece of my clothing.

My erection springs out. It’s been so damn long, and let’s just be honest—a man’s hand is a poor substitute for any part of a woman. Placing my hands on her hips to encourage her, I can’t fucking wait to feel her hand, her mouth, her breasts, her ass, her pussy. But she’s just staring down at me. I look down at my dick then deep into her brown eyes. I’m not quite sure what the holdup is.

I want to be inside her—anywhere—but she appears frozen, staring at me. What made her stop this time? I squeeze her hip, and her eyes meet mine. She lowers herself back down and takes hold of me. Her hand is soft, smooth, firm. She starts to move up and down, and I wind one hand in her hair and grip her ass with the other. Her pace quickens, and I know I’m about to lose it.

Suddenly, she slows down, and my eyes flash wide open. Is she stopping? She gives me a little smile, a little stroke, and a little kiss. “Just want to take my time,” she says, slowly snaking her body down mine. God, I hope this is going where I think it is.

Her warm breath trails down my chest, her tongue gliding down my abs, her fingers outlining my stomach. She’s taking her sweet time, and it’s driving me crazy. It’s like watching a great movie, being excited for the ending to come, but then never wanting it to end, either. I want her to take me in her mouth—all of me. There’s nothing more I want. I regret ever teasing her in bed; she’s got me beat by a mile.

I tremble as her tongue grazes the base of my cock then licks me up and down before flicking across my tip. My body is alive and numb at the same time. I can barely contain myself. It’s been too damn long. She has me on the verge of begging to slip myself between her luscious lips until I touch the back of her throat. I’m just about to beg when my tip glides gently in her mouth. “Mmm,” she moans, and the vibration feels incredible.

She slides her hands up my abs, to my chest, and takes me into her mouth, inch by torturous inch—only a little at a time. The whole while her tongue is moving across me, circling me, stroking me until I’m touching the back of her throat. “Fuck, yes,” I groan, lifting my head and watching her slide me in and out. There’s nothing hotter than watching your dick slip in and out between a woman’s lips, the slick moisture of her mouth glistening off your cock. The only better feeling will be burying myself between her legs.

Her brown eyes catch mine, and she smiles. Christ, I’m a lucky man. She lowers her hands and gently cups my balls. “Damn that feels good,” I say. She flicks her tongue over me again, and I feel myself building up, quickly. I wish I could hold out longer, but it’s impossible right now. It’s been forever, and she is the hottest woman ever. She starts sucking harder, tugging more. I’m going to explode. “Baby, I’m gonna. . . .”

She doesn’t stop. She just keeps on sucking, licking, moaning, tugging, stroking. I clench my eyes, waiting for her to release me from her mouth, but she doesn’t. I’ve never shot off in a woman’s mouth before, but I can’t wait a second longer. She’s too damn good. My body trembles again, and I thrust a few more times, looking down at her in fucking amazement as she takes every last drop of me.

My heart is beating out of my chest, and I throw a hand over my head, panting. Fuck, that was incredible! This woman is incredible. But should I apologize? I gave her sufficient warning, but maybe I should still apologize. She taps my hand and pulls it from my face. I see her smiling, her eyes bright. An apology clearly isn’t needed. She leans up on her elbow, her fingers trailing down my chest. I watch her eyes study the edges of my muscles. “Kenzie?”

“Hmm?”

“Baby, everything alright?”

“I’m just admiring how pretty you are.”

“I’m not
pretty
. That’s a horrible thing to say.”

“Handsome, then. I should design men’s underwear, and you can model for me.”

I bust out laughing and quickly pin her beneath me. I love this view—of her underneath me. Of course, I love the view of her on top, too. It’s a toss-up. My dick hardens again, trying to decide how I need to have her first.

“Kane,” she whispers.

Looking down into her eyes, I can see her vulnerability shining through. It’s a beautiful sight—not Kenzie being scared or nervous, but that I’m the guy who gets to see it. She doesn’t show this side of herself very often. She doesn’t share it with everybody. I caress her arms. I’ve got her. “What is it, baby?”

“I haven’t done this in a very long time.”

“Me, neither,” I say.

“So you’re nervous, too?”

She’s got to be kidding? “No, baby. I can’t wait to be inside you, to know what sounds you make, to feel your body trembling with mine, to have your nails dig into my back.” She blushes for a moment, and I pull back a little. Maybe she’s not ready? “We can stop,” I say. And I mean it.

“I don’t want to stop,” she says. She looks directly in my eyes, sits up, and unfastens her skirt. This is really happening. I can’t wait to see her, all of her. I slide off the table and pull off her skirt—until the only thing separating us is the thin silk of her panties.

I hardly know where to start with her. It’s like looking over a menu of all your favorite things and not knowing what to order. She sits up on the table, and my hands slide under her panties. God, she’s got the most perfect ass. But I can’t forget about her sweet tits and lean down to suck her nipple until it peaks. But then there’s her lips, so full and soft with that magical tongue of hers. And those are just the appetizers. Right now, I think I’ll just jump to the main course. She hooks a leg around my waist and pulls me tighter to her body, thrusting her hips against me. I reach for her panties, about to slide them off, when her phone rings. What the fuck? Not now! She pulls me back to her, clearly intent on ignoring the phone. Thank God!

The answering machine clicks on. “Kenzie, it’s Michael. I’m in an ambulance with Tessa.”

KENZIE

Tessa’s house is
dark and quiet as I lean on Zoe’s crib and pat her back. It seems the baby is finally on the verge of sleep. At least I hope that’s what her soft, rhythmic breathing means. I’m ready to crash myself. I pray to God that Zoe sleeps soon and say a bunch of prayers for Tessa, too, who’s back in the hospital, a horrible rattling sound coming from her chest. As if breast cancer isn’t enough, now it’s all over her lungs, her liver, her bones.

When I visited Tessa in the hospital, I couldn’t bear to watch her suffer. With each beeping machine and flashing light, I wanted to run my hand through the fucking wall. I tried my best to keep her spirits up, which was draining work amidst the sweats and chills. When the doctor suggested a hospice, I wanted to murder him. There were about five different things in the room I could’ve killed him with. I won’t let her go.

The only thing that saved the doctor was Tessa winking when she said today wasn’t the day for the zoo. I liked hearing that. Maybe Tessa isn’t surrendering after all. Maybe she will change her mind. I stayed with Tessa until they kicked me out and could feel Kane with me the whole time, as if he was right beside me, though he was actually sitting just outside the room, helping when needed, but typically giving Tessa and me space.

And I can feel him with me now, in Tessa’s house, leaning against the doorway of Zoe’s nursery. My eyes find him in the darkness, and he steps quietly towards me. He rubs my back as I continue to soothe Zoe, praying again her eyes stay shut. Kane snakes his arm around my waist and tilts his head, assuring me that Zoe is asleep. He leads me down the hall to the spare bedroom and adjoining bathroom. This will be our room until Tessa gets better. He pushes open the bathroom door, and I gasp. The bathroom is lit by candlelight, the soaker tub brimming with bubbles.

I can’t believe he did this, that it would even occur to him. Without a word, he lifts my shirt over my head and slides down my shorts. He takes my hair in his hands and pulls it up into a loose ponytail. It’s obvious he’s never done a ponytail in his life, his fingers fumbling around, loose strands of hair sticking out all over the place. But his sweet gesture makes me smile.

It feels divine as I sink down in the warm water and close my eyes, letting the bubbles wash over me. An image of Tessa connected to wires and machines and tubes flashes before me, and I quickly open my eyes—to the sight of Kane dangling a glass of wine. “I really shouldn’t drink,” I say. “I need to be able to get Zoe.”

Kane sits down on the floor. “It’s only one glass.”

He’s right. My nerves are frayed. I take a small sip. “Not exactly how you thought we’d spend the day,” I say and rest my head on the edge of the tub.

“I thought I’d spend it loving you, and that’s what I’m doing,” he says and caresses my cheek gently. “Tessa will be home in a few days.”

“I don’t want to think about it. Talk to me about anything else, something happy.”

He pours himself a glass of wine. “Well, we can talk about how incredible earlier today was.”

“Let’s not,” I say and cover my face.

“You said to talk about something happy. That made me pretty damn happy.”

“Tell me something else about you, something no one else knows, something private.”

“This afternoon was actually a little new for me.”

“What? You never got. . . .”

“Of course I have. I said a
little new
.”

“Oh, this is getting good. What do you mean?”

He shakes his head, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think my sexy, confident lawyer is blushing. “I’ve never,” he says then pauses.

“Never what?”

“I can’t believe I’m fucking going to admit this,” he says. “Deacon would have a field day if he knew this.”

“Knew what?”

“I’ve never shot off in a woman’s mouth before.”

“
Really
? So Lily never. . . .”

Kane shakes his head. “Empty calories.”

“She did
not
say that!”

“I swear.”

“No way! What about before Lily?”

“It just never happened. Lily and I got together when I was around twenty. Before that, a girl never offered to do that or just never did it in the moment. I think I was more interested in actual sex, anyway.”

“This conversation is too weird!” I cry. “Maybe we should’ve just talked about Tessa!”

“No, you were right. This is better,” he says and takes a long sip of wine. “Tell me something private about you, something no one else knows.”