Twisted Minds (15 page)

This time, I grabbed her bikini strings and managed to tie them within seconds. It was incredible what you could master in times of desperation, and this was definitely one of those times. My dick was desperate.

“Oh, yeah?” She turned back around now that she was a little more decent. “And what exactly is that?” Her tone was teasing as she tilted her head to the side.

I opened my mouth to speak, loving the playfulness in her eyes.

“Kira? Nate?”

Motherfucker. It was Finn.

He was standing at the edge of the water squinting at us. The moron has finally reappeared after an hour.

Kira scrambled away from, the moment ruined. I was pretty sure Finn hadn’t seen anything inappropriate taking place or he would’ve looked a lot madder.

“Where the hell have you been?” I asked, wading towards the shore and trying to act as though absolutely nothing had happened between Kira and me in the water.

“Cass and I were talking. I lost track of time. I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to leave you alone like that. I suck.”

He did suck, but not for the reason he thought.

“It’s fine,” I said, stepping out onto the pebbly dirt.

Kira was walking out beside me, just as I reached for my clothes and made sure Finn didn’t see my boner. It would be pretty obvious who the cause of it was.

Quickly slipping on my shorts over my wet boxer briefs, I turned just in time to see Kira’s eyes lingering on my body. I knew what she saw—toned chest, deep set abs, and huge arms.

She blushed when she caught my eye, and turned to Finn in a hurry. “I’m going to find Amy.”

With that, she was gone, leaving me and Finn on the edge of the water. As Finn began talking about some weed Jackson had given him, I continued to stare at Kira—entranced by the way her hips swayed as she left me.

I wanted her so bad, I couldn’t contain myself, and fuck it if I didn’t get her.

Seventeen

A Glimpse

My dick was hard when I woke up the next morning.

The image of Kira’s perfectly round tits bobbing up and down in the water was burned into my mind as I lay in bed, lost in a tangle of sheets.

I had to have her. I needed her. Right fucking now. I didn’t care if she fought me or yelled at me. She was going to be mine. I had been putting in so much work and getting nothing in return.

Candy hadn’t been a good enough substitute for Kira. No one was a good enough substitute for Kira. She was a rare collector’s item; valuable, perfect, priceless.

My phone vibrated on the bedside table beside me, and I reached over it to squint at the screen. It was my mother again, trying to convince me to talk to her. Yeah, that wasn’t fucking happening right now.

I miss you. I keep thinking about all the wonderful times we had together.

She was crazy. Most of our time together had been spent fighting and trying to see who could say the most terrible things to each other. She was on something if she thought her bullshit was going to work on me.

Climbing out of bed, I changed into something a little more casual—collared polo shirt and Henleys—and headed into the bathroom to clean up a little. Once I had styled my hair with some product, and was smelling like Ocean Pine, I headed downstairs.

The smell of my Ocean Pine was quickly wiped out by the most incredible smells I’d ever experienced. Cinnamon, sugar, honey—the smell of baking greeted me on the way down the stairs and led me into the kitchen where I found Kira.

Her back was to me as she moved around the kitchen, pulling various things out of the cupboards. The kitchen was filled with an array of cakes, pies, and cookies. My mouth watered as the sweet aroma overwhelmed my senses.

“Hey.”

She visibly jumped at the sound of my voice; the spoon in her hand fell to the floor with a clatter.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” she chided, reaching down to retrieve the fallen spoon.

“Sorry.” I held a hand up in apology. “Where is everyone?”

“My parents went to pick up some more ingredients for the fair.” She turned her attention back to the items on the counter. “And my brother went to get Cass, so she can help us bake.”

“This is all for that fair thing?” My eyes were drawn to the faded blue denim shorts she was wearing. They were so short that if she moved a certain way, I could see the outline of her ass cheeks teasing me.

“Yes, we’ve done this every year since I can remember,” she confirmed as she measured out cups of flour and sifted it into a large bowl.

This always seemed like a big deal to Finn, but I didn’t really get why baking cookies and muffins was so important. A personal chef could do that for you.

“You know,” I said, strolling towards the fridge to retrieve myself a beer, “I bet you’d draw a bigger crowd if you put alcohol in this.” I reached for a pastry thing that was sitting on the kitchen table.

Kira turned just as I bit into it, cream oozing into my mouth. There was a hint of cinnamon mixed in with the sugar. It was pretty fucking good. The Walshs’ definitely had the makings of a business that could do well in the city—with a little more refining, of course.

“Not everyone has a drinking problem like you do,” Kira snapped, catching sight of the beer in my hand. “Some people like to experience life sober.”

“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?” I teased, finishing up the pastry and searching for a bottle opener in the drawer closest to me.

She let out a snort, turning back to her work. “Well, you’ll just have to keep yourself entertained with me somehow until everyone gets back. And you’re going to do it without any alcohol in you.”

Kira’s words surprised me, and I paused in my search for a bottle opener as my eyes shot to the back of her head. Her remark was pretty innocent, but it sure as hell didn’t sound like it to me.

Being around Kira made me second guess the person I normally was. If any other woman had said those words to me, we’d be naked and I’d be banging her on the kitchen table by now. Don’t get me wrong, I still wanted to bang Kira, but I also wanted to get to know her more.

“Oh, yeah?” Placing the unopened beer down, I drew closer to her, testing the limits. “How do you propose I do that?”

She glanced at me over her shoulder, her brows knitting together. “Uh, I’m baking. Do you want to help?”

My confidence completely deflated in her confused blue eyes. What the hell had happened to my game? She had seemed so into me at the lake yesterday, but now she was acting as though I was the last man on earth she would ever get with.

Women—they made absolutely no sense.

“Sure.” I stepped closer to her, letting my fingers trail across her back before falling to my side. “What do you need me to do?”

Her demeanor was a little rigid as she pushed the bowl towards me, and pointed out the ingredients I needed to measure into it and the recipe I had to follow. Other than her stiff posture, there was no other indication from her that acknowledged the touch.

Fucking ice princess.

A timer went off and Kira moved away from me and towards the oven. She put on a pair of oven mitts and pulled out a tray of mini cupcakes that she placed on the stovetop. After poking a metal skewer with one, she seemed satisfied and reached for a tray of cookie doughs that had been shaped into tiny spheres.

When she bent over to slide the tray into the oven, those shorts rode up her ass cheeks again. Fuck that ass. That’s what I wanted to do. Fuck that ass.

She straightened up quickly and began moving around, tossing things into the sink and putting things away, in her own world.

Feeling a little out of my comfort zone, I reached for a measuring cup and began pouring flour into it. The first time, I ended up shaking the bag with a little too much force, sending flour flying all over the counter.

“Is everything okay?” Kira asked cautiously from behind me.

“Yeah,” I waved her off, gritting my teeth as I eased up on the pouring.

She came beside me anyway, her eyes scrutinizing my every move. “You don’t seem okay.”

Feeling ruffled, I placed the flour and measuring cup down. “I’ve never done this before.”

She tilted her head to the side, a gleam in her eyes. “Measured flour?”

“No,” I growled. “Cooked.”

“You’ve never cooked before?” The look on her face was one of disbelief. “How is that possible?”

I shrugged, feeling incompetent in comparison to her. One of the first things I’d noticed about Finn after he’d moved in with me, was that he knew how to cook. And not just scramble some eggs, but real cooking. Like, baking and grilling. That sort of shit.

“I’ve never had to. We’ve always eaten out or had a chef make our meals.”

Kira stared at me in surprise. “What about your mom? Or your dad? Were they too busy working?”

“My dad, yes, my mom, well, if you can call switching from husband to husband a job, then she worked full-time.” My heart was steel as I spoke. I didn’t talk about my parents often, yet in the past week I’d spoken more about them to Kira than I realized.

“Here, I’ll help you.” Kira changed the subject, moving it away from my parents. I hadn’t expected her to do that. I’d expected her eyes to fill with sympathy, but once again she’d surprised me. “Just dip the cup into the bag instead of pouring it out.”

Duh. I should’ve known that.

Within five minutes, Kira and I had mixed up the ingredients to make the batter for a very large carrot cake. Apparently, it was her favorite.

As we finished, we both stood back a little awkwardly, no doubt thinking about the one thing we’d been distracting ourselves from—her tits.

Kira brought it up first.

“What happened last night, I-I’m not usually like that.” She couldn’t even look me in the fucking eye, that’s how embarrassed she was.

I didn’t care that she was feeling weird and awkward. Those were bullshit excuses for denying how someone really felt. There was something deeper going on with her and I really wanted to figure it out if she let me.

Maybe I was finally getting to her or maybe she really was an absolute good girl with a feisty spirit. Either way, after last night there was no way in hell I was giving up. The fact that she’d reacted to my presence was more than enough of an invitation.

She’d loved it when I’d kissed her shoulder, when my fingertips had teased her perky nipples. The memory of her pressing her ass against my groin was still fresh in my mind. I wanted to do it again, how we’d done it last night, but next time we would be naked and she would be bent over something—maybe her bed.

“Don’t fucking talk to me about that crap, Kira. I know what happened last night. I was there. And I know you fucking loved it, so stop lying to me. Stop lying to yourself.”

She tossed her long locks over her shoulder. “Well, none of it matters. It doesn’t matter how I feel, because I know your type, Nathaniel James. I kept my mouth shut the other day because I didn’t want to be rude, but it would take an idiot to not be able to figure you out.”

“Oh, yeah? So why don’t you go ahead and tell me all about myself.”

“You obviously have daddy or mommy issues, maybe both. You’re rich and spoilt. Your parents had to make it up to you by showering you with money and expensive things. You don’t know what love is, and you don’t really care to find out, either.”

I let her words sink in, a steady anger bubbling within me. Perfect Kira Walsh, with her perfect life and her perfect family, with no idea what my life was like at all.

“You don’t know a goddamn thing, little Miss Perfect,” I shot back. “You live in your small town judging anyone who’s different to you. You’re a fucking hypocrite.”

“How dare you!” Kira stabbed me with a finger. “I am not a hypocrite! My parents didn’t raise me that way.”

“Well, my parents didn’t raise me at all!”

And with those words, my anger hit its limit and I reached for the closest thing I could find—the carrot cake batter we’d been working on—and knocked it to the floor in my rage.

Kira gaped at me—there was batter on her neck and stop. I stood there, my breathing ragged as I realized what a complete douche I was.

“Shit. I didn’t meant to. I-I’ll clean up.” My hand mussed up my hair as I stared around the floor, knowing I could’ve controlled my anger better.

I bent over and retrieved the bowl, noticing that it was still half full as I placed it back on the counter. Then all of a sudden, I felt something light hit the side of my face. White powder fell from my lashes as I blinked.

Kira stood in front of me with a bag of flour in her hand and a smug look on her face. “Take that, you spoiled, arrogant prick.”

With that, she threw the remaining flour at me. I ducked, but not quickly enough. The flour fell all over me, and I had this sudden image of myself looking like cocaine had rained down on me.

The image didn’t last long because Kira was already arming herself with granulated sugar and baking powder. As she circled me, I grabbed the one thing that was within my reach—the carrot cake batter.

Kira froze. “No.”

I cocked a brow. “Are you giving up?”

“Never.” Her mouth tightened.

Before Kira could make a move, I scooped the batter out with a hand and threw it at her. She managed to dodge some of it, but a good portion splattered across her clothes and bare legs.

“Nate!” she shrieked, causing me to burst into laughter.

Even she was laughing as she assailed me with sugar and baking powder.  We danced around the kitchen in a kind of weird baking dance, the bowl of remaining batter in my hand now as I followed after her.

Then she stopped. She had hit the kitchen table, backing herself into a corner. The very table I saw her at every morning—the table where she sat and taunted me with that body and those breasts I was obsessed with.

Before she could react, I moved in quickly, blocking any chance of her escaping.

“Okay, okay.” She dropped the ingredients on the table, raising her hands in the air. “I surrender.”

For a long moment, I didn’t say anything. My eyes were doing all the talking. There was flour and batter all over her body. My tongue slid over my lips, but it was her I wanted to slide my tongue over. She had never looked so fucking hot before. She was a vision.

She flushed deep red, and distracted herself by pulling batter out of her hair. It was like she knew all the dirty thoughts that were flashing through my mind.

“Natha-” she began, but I silenced her with a firm finger against her mouth. The mouth I wanted wrapped around my cock.

Knocking the chair aside with a foot, I picked her up and placed her butt on the edge of the table.

Her eyes were wide; she didn’t move. I used that opportunity to pull off her shirt, leaving her breasts exposed. Her chest was heaving up and down, her breasts jiggling just a little with each breath she took.

“What are you going to do?” she asked, sounding breathless.

I leaned in close so she could see I meant business. “Whatever the fuck I wanna do.”