The Season: Rush (Austin Arrows #1) (21 page)

Bianca

As soon as I climb in the backseat of Gabby’s mom’s minivan, my phone buzzes. I know it’s Gabby. She likes to text me on the way to school. Unlike my mom, her mom doesn’t seem to mind. When we do that with my mom around, she always takes our phones and insists we speak instead. She’s funny like that.

“Good morning, Bianca,” Mrs. Emmanuelle greets kindly.

“Good morning,” I reply, smiling at her reflection in the rearview mirror before turning my attention to my phone.

Gabby:
Did anything exciting happen since I talked to you last?

Bianca:
I went to sleep. Does that count?

Gabby:
No.

Bianca:
Okay… Hmm… Well, Kingston was there this morning when I woke up. I saw him sleeping on the couch, but he didn’t see me. He made me breakfast.

Gabby:
OMG. Is he really dating your mom?

Bianca:
That’s what they say, but I don’t think so.

I don’t know why I think that. At first, I thought they were dating. My mom even said they were. It’s kind of strange because I’ve heard it mentioned a few times, and someone said they heard it on the news, but I don’t think it’s real. Not completely real, anyway. I think they definitely like each other … a lot. But I’m not sure it’s what it looks like. If it was, would he really be sleeping on the couch?

Gabby:
What if he is? What happens if your dad finds you? Won’t he be mad that your mom has a boyfriend?

The questions still confuse me. I’ve been trying to understand what Gabby means. I mean, yes, it sounds like it could happen. My dad won’t want to be around my mom if she has a boyfriend. But that’s only if he likes her. What if he only likes me? What if my dad doesn’t like my mom?

I frown. I hadn’t thought about
that
before.

While Gabby’s mom pulls into the parking lot of the school, I tuck my phone into my pocket and consider all this new information. I really don’t know what to do. It doesn’t look like my dad’s going to contact my mom. If he doesn’t, does that mean my mom will marry Kingston? I mean, I like Kingston. He’s fun to be around. He always does stuff with me, but … I can’t see him as my dad.

Or can I?

Kingston

The instant I hear the front door shut, I move around the bar to stand behind Ellie. She hasn’t sat down again, but I want her to eat her breakfast before she comes up with an excuse to send me on my way. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head, trying to come up with a polite way to make me leave.

I’m not leaving.

Not yet.

“How’s your head?” I ask, putting my hands on her shoulders and guiding her back to the barstool.

Her muscles tense beneath my fingers.

“Whatever you gave me worked like a charm.”

I smile to myself. I gave her an orgasm, but I doubt she’s referring to that.

I’ve been replaying that scene over and over in my head ever since I tucked her into bed, then got comfortable on the couch. I remembered to set an alarm to ensure that I was awake before Bianca got up. The last thing I want is for the kid to think I stayed over. I doubt Bianca would think anything of it, but I know how Ellie is about that. She never allows men to sleep over. I’m not even sure I can remember a time when she introduced one to Bianca.

That makes me think about Bianca’s Facebook post. It bothers me a little that Ellie doesn’t trust me when it comes to that. She said she monitors Bianca’s Facebook, so she must know. Spencer hasn’t mentioned it, either, but I haven’t brought it up. I’m not sure there’s a good way. I can’t see myself blurting the question out, asking whether he knows that his sister is trying to locate her Vegas hookup. Probably the type of question that’ll get me punched. Especially since it’s not supposed to be my business.

Or it really
isn’t
my business.

Either way.

It doesn’t matter because I know Ellie’s a phenomenal mother. Everything she does reflects that. Every decision she has made since the day she found out she was pregnant proves that Bianca is the most important thing in her world. I respect that. She loves Bianca and only wants her to be happy, so if finding her dad will ensure that, I can see why she’d do it.

“You don’t have to stay,” Ellie says, pulling me from my thoughts.

I realize I’ve been standing there kneading her shoulders while she picks at her food.

“We need to talk,” I tell her before she tells me all the things she has to do today and why I should head out.

“About what? The orgasm?”

I grin, walking back to the island and pouring her a glass of orange juice, then setting it on the counter beside her plate.

“It was just an orgasm,” she says around a mouthful of bacon.

“
Just
an orgasm, yeah?” I seriously doubt that. “If that’s the case, then maybe I need to try a little harder next time.”

Ellie’s gaze meets mine. “Will there be a next time, Kingston? Do you think that’s wise? We can chalk last night up to too much tequila … on my part. I begged you. You’re off the hook.”

That is one thing I admire about this woman. She doesn’t beat around the bush, always saying it like it is, laying it all on the line. However, she’s wrong this time.

“I didn’t do it because you begged.” Although it helped to speed things along, I did it because I wanted to. I can own up to my actions.

“Fine. But that doesn’t mean we should do it again.”

“Only, we should
definitely
do it again,” I argue.

She takes a bite of eggs. “That doesn’t answer my second question.”

Right. Second question. Do I think it’s wise? “I don’t see an issue with it.” I brace my hands on the counter behind me as I prop myself up with the counter.

“Where’s it gonna go?”

“Who knows.”

“Then why would we want to go there?”

“Do you even remember last night?”

She blushes, clearly remembering.

“Then you know that’s a dumb question.”

“Fine. What if it ruins our friendship?”

Yeah, I’ve thought about that, and that’s definitely something I worry about, but for whatever reason, I’m blinded by my feelings for her. And it isn’t simply lust. But that is definitely a powerful contributing factor.

“We won’t let it,” I tell her.

“Right.” Ellie snorts and it’s oddly cute. “And we can make that call.”

“We can.”
Why can’t we?

“Friends with benefits?” The corner of her mouth turns up. “Isn’t that a little cliché?”

“You’re the one who said it, not me.”

“But you’re up for just sex?”

With her? No.

Will I tell her that? No.

“I think I can handle it.”

“I’ve heard you’re really bossy. And you’re into kinky stuff,” she says, biting off the end of another slice of bacon. She waves the uneaten part of her bacon at me. “What if I don’t like that?”

I don’t respond right away. I stand there, watching her. My body’s hardening from the conversation alone. My cock is pushing against the zipper of my jeans, and I want to free it, to stroke myself while she watches. I know she’ll like to watch.

That’s the thing about Ellie. She’s open and honest about anything and everything. And I’ve known her for a long damn time. We’ve had discussions about everything from food to hockey to why guys like to watch lesbian porn… The point is, we’ve talked about everything. And I’ve picked up on the things that excite her. She might say she doesn’t want a man who takes charge when it comes to her pleasure, but she does. She totally does.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna spontaneously combust,” Ellie says, taking a sip of her orange juice as she chews. “And I don’t think that’s gonna help your cause.”

“Finish eating,” I command, keeping my voice low and even.

“See, there’s that bossy thing I was talking about.” She’s rambling. I know it and she knows it.

What she obviously doesn’t realize is that I can see that her nipples are hard through the light gray T-shirt she has on.

“Finish eating,” I repeat.

“And then what?”

Keeping my voice stern, I stand up straight. “And then I’m gonna make you come again.” I pause, waiting until she meets my gaze. “With my mouth.”

24

Ellie

I choke on my bacon, coughing uncontrollably until my eyes are watering. Damn, that hurts like a motherf— It hurts bad. I’ll leave it at that.

When I finally get myself under control, I find Kingston still staring at me. There are a million words hovering on the tip of my tongue, a dozen excuses as to why we shouldn’t do this, but I can’t bring myself to speak them aloud. Truth is, I don’t want to. But it’s hard not to think about them. I’ve managed to get a little perspective when he was out of town. Probably even did a little too much thinking about the breakfast date and how much I enjoyed kissing him. The conclusion I’ve come to is that I can’t get in too deep. No matter how I spin it, we are still friends, and this is supposed to be a way to improve his image, not a way for me to get laid.

Then again, I haven’t had sex in three freaking years.

That’s my selfish side talking. And that side wants Kingston to do as he promised, to make me come. I don’t care if he uses his fingers again or his mouth. I’m not picky. Hell, I’m primed and ready to go and that’s from his words alone.

Pushing my plate away, I down what’s left of my orange juice and try to compose myself.

“Finished?”

If I say yes, will he ravish me with his mouth?

Oh, crap.

“Before we do something rash, don’t you think we should discuss the boundaries of this pretend relationship?” I’m stalling, yes. But it’s better than jumping him, despite how badly I want to.

“We can,” he replies.

“Okay, then let’s discuss.”

“It seems pretty straightforward to me.” Kingston crosses his arms over his chest. I admire the way his muscles flex beneath the soft cotton of his button-down, the way it pulls tight across his chest. “We’ll go about our business as we always have, only I’ll take you out to dinner and movies, you’ll come to the games, we’ll spend time together whenever we can. Just like we’ve been doing for the past couple of weeks.”

“That sounds an awful lot like dating,” I state.

“That’s kind of the point.” He relaxes his stance, putting his hands on the counter behind him.

“No, the point is that it’s pretend.”

I really, really need to remember this is pretend. Even though I’ve made it my mission to help Kingston, to prove to the world that he doesn’t manhandle women the way that one girl said, it is still pretend. Dates or not.

“Only if we want it to be.”

I frown. That wasn’t the deal. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He cocks his head to the side and once again crosses his arms over his chest, biceps bunching beneath the fabric of his shirt. He is truly a remarkable specimen, even if it’s evident he’s going on the defensive.

“What happened last night wasn’t pretend, Ellie.”

No, it wasn’t. I very much enjoyed that orgasm. I want a million more, in fact. But that doesn’t mean that we should venture down this path.

Staring back at him, I try to come up with something to say, but I don’t have an argument. The dating thing makes sense if we’re going to convince the public that Kingston has settled down. But what happens behind closed doors…

That is completely up to us, and the memory of last night’s orgasm returns, heating my skin.

“I need to shower,” I blurt.

“Good. Me, too.”

Okay. I didn’t expect that.

Glancing around the kitchen, I try to come up with something. Oh, right. I have more than one bathroom in the house. “You can use Bianca’s shower.”

Kingston moves around the bar once more, this time turning me on the stool until I’m facing him. He crooks his finger beneath my chin and tilts my head so that I’m looking up at him. “We’re gonna shower together.”

He really is bossy.

I really like that.

But I’m not going to add any more air to his already overinflated ego.

In fact, I’m not going to say anything, because Kingston’s mouth moves closer to mine until he is hovering a fraction of an inch away, our breaths mingling. He smells like bacon. Probably not a good thing that I find that sexy as hell.

“I’m gonna kiss you, little girl.”

Why do I find it hot that he calls me little girl? He’s been calling me that for years. It isn’t because he’s that much older than I am. And truthfully, I’m not all that little. Five seven qualifies as average. Maybe.

I don’t know.

Nor do I care, because heaven help me…

Kingston’s mouth is on mine and he’s kissing me again.

And just like the other times, I’m helpless against it.

His mouth is warm, his lips firm yet soft, his tongue wicked as it easily glides over my bottom lip, then slips into my mouth. I tentatively stroke it with mine, sighing as I give myself over to him. The pace is slow and steady but soon intensifies. Fearing I’ll fall off the stool, I reach for him. Or that’s my excuse, anyway.

His abs contract when I slip my hand beneath his shirt. I feel warm skin over hard muscle. I give myself permission to roam, promising I’ll cut this off before it escalates out of control. Then it’s too late because I’m caught up in his kiss, in how easily he manipulates my mouth with his, in the sexy groan that rumbles in his chest when I pluck his nipples with my fingers.

“Fuck.” He says the word against my mouth as his hands slide down, lower, until he’s cupping my ass and lifting me right off the stool.

That … the whole picking-me-up thing … is so hot. Hotter than the little-girl thing. Although both are great. And now I’m mentally rambling, probably because my brain is in a frenzy, making a furious attempt to keep up with my body.

Crushing my mouth back to his, I dig my nails into his back as I wrap my legs around his waist, holding on for dear life. I try to determine the next move, where we’re going, what’s about to happen, but I find I don’t care. When Kingston’s mouth is on mine, his exquisite tongue sliding against mine, the only thing that matters is getting closer to him.

He must be just as distracted because we end up in my shower, both of us still dressed. Luckily, it’s a big shower. One without doors that allows him to easily navigate until my back is against the tiled wall.

I blindly reach down, fumbling as I twist the knob. Kingston pushes up against me as the water begins raining down. Thankfully it’s on-demand hot water or we could’ve very well put a damper on the mood. Instead, we’re both dressed, our clothes now plastered to our bodies while his tongue makes love to mine, which is quite possibly the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced.

This guy is so full of sexy…

Kingston attempts to pull back, but I grab the back of his head, holding him to me. “Not yet,” I whisper. “Don’t stop.”

“Not stopping,” he mumbles, chuckling at my apparent neediness. “Need you naked. Now.”

My sopping-wet shirt is lifted over my head, then tossed away, a loud plop echoing against the walls. I start to work the buttons of his shirt free but quickly grow frustrated. Rather than let him help me, I grip the two halves and pull, the small discs scattering, pinging against the wall and floor.

“That was hot, right?” I ask, pulling back enough to look up at him.

He’s smiling. A sensual, devious smirk that makes my pussy wetter than it already was.

“So hot,” he agrees, lowering me to my feet.

Pulling his head back down to mine, I match his smile. “Where were we?”

When his lips cover mine once again, I reach between us and work the button and zipper of his jeans free, then slip my hand inside.

Oh.

My.

God.

Although I can’t see him, the fact that I can’t wrap my hand completely around his girth tells me all I need to know. The man is freaking ginormous. And here I thought they called him Mount Rushmore because he’s like a mountain guarding the goal. Perhaps, they call him that because he’s so freaking huge…

It shouldn’t surprise me, because the guy is massive everywhere else, but seriously…

Kingston hisses, his hips bucking toward me as I stroke his smooth, velvety shaft.

His dick is thick and hard and so fucking big my pussy clenches, desperate for him to fill me. Only briefly do I wonder if it’ll actually fit. I remember one time, Noelle was telling me about a guy she had sex with—or tried to, anyway—and no matter how hard they tried, he wouldn’t fit. People don’t think that shit really happens, but it does.

While I stroke him with my hand, he strokes my tongue with his, working the clasp on my bra free, then practically tearing it from my arms. It disappears, assumingly off to join my shirt.

Not that I care. At the moment, my clothes are the last thing I’m thinking about.

And if I’m being completely honest, not once since Kingston started kissing me have I thought about our friendship, either.