Perfect Kind of Trouble

  I say, “Is that what you want to do? Be a nurse?”

  She smiles at the shirt. “Yeah. I want to finish nursing school but I can’t afford it right now. What about you?” She holds the needle in her mouth while she readjusts the material in her hands.

  “I don’t have money for college either,” I say. “I’m just sort of bouncing around from job to job. Two of them, actually.”

  She nods. “That’s right. What do you do again?”

  “I work at the cell phone store in town so I can afford my phone bill.”

  “Brilliant.”

  “And at Willow Inn out by the lavender ranch, where I run supplies to and from town. And sometimes as a dishwasher at Latecomers when I’m low on cash and want a hot meal.”

  She shakes her head. “Wow. I had no idea you worked so much.” Finishing with the first shirt, she moves on to the second.

  I watch her set the needle between her lips and wish I was that needle. She pulls it from her mouth and goes back to hemming the shirt. Her blonde hair falls across her face, stroking her pink cheeks as she tucks it back. And her blue eyes narrow in concentration as her delicate fingers carefully weave the thread through the shirt.

  I watch her in amazement.

  “What about you?” she asks, her voice bringing me back to reality. “If money wasn’t an issue, what would you do?”

  “Honestly?” I hesitate. “I would go to culinary school and learn to cook.”

  She looks up. “You like cooking?”

  “I love it,” I say, pointing to the stack of cookbooks on the table across the room. “Remember I told you about our housekeeper, Marcella? Well growing up, she let me help her out in the kitchen, and she taught me all sorts of things about food and cooking. That’s when my love for all things culinary began, with Marcella.”

  Kayla smiles. “It sounds like you really loved Marcella.”

  I nod. “I did. She was great. My mother wasn’t really good with words or showing love and I think Marcella tried to make up for that, you know? She once told me that real love isn’t something you plan or earn, it’s something that just hits you—like a bolt of lightning—and changes you forever.” I smile to myself. “Marcella changed me forever, that’s for sure. She was never too busy or too impatient for me. Even when I made a mess in her kitchen, which I did a lot when I would experiment on different recipes, she would just sigh and shake her head and say, Mijo, you’re lucky I love you.” I pause because Kayla’s face keeps getting happier. “What?”

  “That’s just…” She grins. “That’s really cute. And it’s great that you’re so passionate about cooking. I want to eat something you make.”

  Happiness fills my chest and I suddenly want nothing more than to feed this girl. “Okay.” I grin. “Maybe if we find the money tomorrow I can whip up a hot meal for us in celebration.”

  She smiles. “I’d like that.” Finishing with the last shirt, she puts her sewing supplies away and slowly yawns.

  “I guess we should probably get to bed,” I say. “We have a long drive in the morning.” I look at my frameless bed and shame pricks under my skin. “Sorry we’re pretty much sleeping on the floor.”

  “Are you kidding me? I’ll take crashing on the floor of a mansion over sleeping on a dirty motel bed any day.” She winks. “Even though your mattress has probably seen just as much action as the Quickie Stop one.”

  I watch her carefully, wondering if the idea of me having sex with lots of women on my mattress—or just having lots of sex, in general—bothers her at all. But the teasing in her eyes looks genuine and unaffected.

  Disappointment leaks through me and I try not to overthink why.

  “Actually,” I say as we stand and I put my shirts away. “This particular mattress hasn’t seen any action at all.”

  She scoffs. “Bullshit.”

  I shake my head. “Swear to God. What I said yesterday, about women thinking my mattress was comfortable? That was bullshit. Although it is rather comfy. But since I’m not in the business of broadcasting my homelessness, I never bring women back here. So my mattress is a virgin.”

  “Huh.” She looks at said mattress. “Well consider me honored.”

  I smile.

  We crawl onto my mattress and I turn the lights out, throwing us into darkness so complete I can’t even see my hand in front of my face as we try to get comfortable.

  “Shit,” I mutter. “I forgot you like to sleep on your belly. Here, switch sides with me.”

  I start to crawl over her just as she tries to sit up and we smash into each other, causing Kayla to tumble back. I lose my balance and fall on top of her, with our chests and hips locked together.

  The smell of coconut wafts over me, sweet and hazy. As I sink against her soft, supple body, my dick starts to grow hard. I know I should get off of her, but the fit is so perfect I can’t seem to move.

  She exhales and her hot breath feathers against my throat in the dark. Carefully balanced on my elbows, I silently command myself to climb off of her, but before I can move, she arches her back.

  It’s a slight movement, barely palpable, but it tells me what she wants. I slowly brush my fingertips up her stomach, feeling her belly dip in as she sucks in a sharp breath, then trail them up to her face and cup her cheeks.

  I’ve never been with a girl in complete darkness before and something about it is oddly intimate. I can’t see her. I can only feel her, which should make it less personal. But I can hear her breathing, and feel her heartbeat against my chest, and everything about it makes me want to be careful with her.

  I lower my face until I can feel the heat of her exhales against my lips. She rolls her hips up so her body meets mine and I push against her even more, touching my lips to hers.

  She kisses me back, softly. Just our lips brushing each other in the black. I pull back to breathe, surprised that my heart is beating so fast, and hear the faintest of protests. A tiny whimper sounds from the depths of her throat telling me she wants more, and that’s all the invitation I need.

  25

  Kayla

  As Daren hungrily brings his mouth back to mine, I part my lips and moan as his tongue slides inside my mouth. I slip my hands under his shirt and press my fingertips into his back, pulling him closer to me as I open my legs, desperate to give in to the wild passion I’ve been denying these last few days. I kiss him back, exhaling heavily as our tongues meet and slip around each other. I move my hips against his, thrilled by the hard length of his erection rubbing against my center.

  My heart beats wildly. I want to kiss him and feel him and please him all at once, moaning into his mouth as he trails his free hand along my rib cage while keeping our cuffed hands pinned beside my head. I slide my hand up his bare back, gripping the corded strength beneath my fingers as he shifts above me.

  Tugging on his shirt, I lift it up and he helps me pull it off him and down to our connected wrists. Wishing I could see his naked chest just a breath away, I blindly reach my free hand out, roving it over his shoulders and down to his rippled stomach once I find him in the dark.

  I love the way he breathes against me, warm and alive and filled with wanting. Where our bound wrists lie, he laces his fingers through mine and holds our hands there, a steady place where we connect.

  He lightly sweeps his tongue up my throat, gently tipping my head back so he can kiss my collarbone and then lower. I run my hand into his hair and hold his head against my throat where his tongue is now licking a hot trail up to my ear.

  Pulling back, he lifts my shirt off and pulls it down to where his is tangled in the handcuffs. The cool air of his room drifts over my already hard nipples, tightening them even more as Daren’s palm glides over my naked breasts and lights a current inside of me.

  I exhale in pleasure as he lightly squeezes my breast with his big hand and rubs his thumb over my nipple. He squeezes my other breast, harder than the first and I moan.

  “I like it when you moan,” he says and I
can hear the smile in his voice.

  Arching my back so my breast fills his palm again, I say, “I like it when you make me moan.”

  He softly plucks at my left nipple then my right. I feel his mouth come down to my chest and he licks a hot, wet trail between my breasts as he takes them both in his hands and massages them under his palms before lightly pulling at their hardened tips.

  I whimper and his hot, wet tongue is suddenly wrapped around my left nipple, tugging it into his mouth with a groan. With every hot suck, my core tightens and pulses, growing wetter as my thighs flex.

  With my hand still in his hair, I hold him to my breast. He pulls his mouth back and my nipple tightens under the cool air breezing over the wetness left behind.

  He pulls my other nipple into his mouth and I moan a little louder, loving the darkness and the freedom it gives me to enjoy this without reservation.

  It’s pitch-black. Completely blinding. Without the light, all I have is Daren. The warmth of his body above mine, the feel of his heartbeat against my chest, the sound of our tangled breaths coming out in pants and searching for a place to land.

  In the darkness, in this place where nothing is visible, I feel beautiful. The way I look does not exist. But who I am is very much real, coming out in soft gasps and unfamiliar emotions. Desperation. Eagerness. Desire. Affection.

  I run my hand down his back and to the waistband of his shorts, slipping my hand inside to the hot length of his erection. I run my fingertips along the soft wet tip of his hardness then softly grasp him in my hand. He’s so thick and hot it makes my core ache in need. I slip my hand out with every intention of pulling his shorts off but the moment my hand is free he presses himself between my thighs. The rock-hard length of him rubs against my soft center again and I wiggle to add more friction, wanting more.

  I softly whimper. “Daren.”

  “I know,” he whispers beside my ear. “I’ll give you everything you want.”

  A shiver runs over my body and his fingertips lightly brush over the tiny shiver bumps on my stomach as his hand moves down to my shorts. He pulls them off in a few short movements, leaving me in only my panties. Then, finding my knees, he runs his hands up the inside of my legs and trails his fingers over the sensitive skin at the top.

  Then he spreads my thighs, opening me up all the way. I let my legs fall open, reflectively arching my back as the cool air in between our bodies wisps over my wet panties.

  With my body fully opened, he skims his fingers up and down the inside of my thighs and I exhale and let my head fall back. The barely-there touch, causing a needy ache inside me, is soft and careful—and only for me.

  He can’t see me or my reactions, so I know the light brushing of his fingers over my tummy and the underside of my breasts and the inside of my arm aren’t for his benefit, but for mine. They’re so I know he’s there. Connecting us softly.

  He rubs a thumb over the wettest part of my panties and I jerk. He does it again and my thighs quiver as I let out a gasp.

  He gently suckles on my earlobe as his thumb finds my clit through the thin material of my panties and strokes tiny circles around it.

  I pant as my thighs jerk. “Ye—yes.”

  Slipping his fingers inside my panties, he gently strokes me between my legs and I whimper. I’m already wet and hot, but his long fingers, slipping in and around my slick folds, make me even more aroused.

  His mouth finds mine and he traps my moans and my gasps as he works me closer… closer…

  I’m panting and shaking. I let my thighs fall open even more and squirm beneath him eagerly.

  Closer…

  He teases my entrance with one thick finger and slides it inside. My tiny inner muscles squeeze him with need. He adds another finger and starts to move them in and out of me, drawing out more wetness from my center. Then withdraws both fingers, shoves my panties to the side completely, and uses his thumb and forefinger to softly pluck at my clit.

  I cry out at the touch, feeling my core tighten and ache as he rolls over my clit again and again.

  Closer…

  He pushes his big fingers back inside while his thumb continues to tickle against my most pivotal place. My body tenses as I reach the peak, and my thighs begin to quiver as pure ecstasy courses through me, pulling a cry from my throat. Daren bends to kiss me as my climax washes over me in waves, and I bend my back in a tall arch to meet his mouth and his skillful fingers. And then—

  The phone rings.

  26

  Daren

  No.

  It rings again.

  No, no, no. Dammit.

  I slowly withdraw my fingers from Kayla’s tightness, gently cupping her between her legs as her thighs shake around me and her arousal spills onto the bed. I kiss her deeply, sucking in her quiet moans and whimpers and loving every desperate cry. Pleasing this woman is pleasure in itself.

  I shift above her, willing the phone call to disappear and leave me to this plush, naked body I have beneath me in the dark.

  But it rings again, and this time Kayla pulls away from my mouth and breaths out, “Do—do you need to get that?” Small spasms continue to run through her and she lets out a wanton sigh.

  “No,” I say, my fingers still playing inside her panties where she’s wet and warm and ready for me. And I am most definitely ready for her. Fuck, I’m hard.

  Not a chance in hell.

  Kayla seems distracted now, shifting as the phone rings again. “Sh—shouldn’t you at least see who’s calling?” she pants.

  I hang my head. Only one person would be calling me at this hour.

  “Probably,” I say, out of breath. My dick aches in mean protest as I slip my hand out of her panties. “Is that okay? I’m so sorry.”

  “Yes. Of course,” she says, scooting out from under me with quivering legs. I curse all the phone gods in all the land as I lift away from her hot naked body and reach for my phone. I adjust myself but it doesn’t help. I’m already so hard it hurts.

  “Hello?” I say, bracing myself.

  “Hi, Daren. Sorry to bother you at this hour, but it’s important,” says Eddie Perkins. I knew it.

  “What?” I say, pissed off and irritated.

  “Your father’s arraignment for the accident charges is tomorrow, and he’s refusing to plead guilty.”

  “Shocking.”

  “I need you to come down to the courthouse and talk some sense into him—”

  “No.” I start shaking my head even though he can’t see me. “No way. I’m done speaking to him.”

  “You’re the only one he will listen to and if he doesn’t plead guilty and this goes to trial he could end up in prison, Daren. Prison.”

  “He deserves prison.”

  Eddie sighs. “You and I both know you don’t mean that. Will you please come?”

  I clench my jaw, hating that my father has spiraled so far down that I feel like I’m at the bottom of a deep, dark pit. “Fine. I’ll try to talk to him.”

  “Thank you,” he says. “I really appreciate it. I’ll see you at eight a.m. tomorrow.”

  I hang up and throw my phone back on the nightstand with a curse.

  Beside me in the dark, Kayla quietly says, “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I shake my head. “Just some stuff I have to do in the morning for Eddie.”

  “Oh.” She shifts on the bed and I feel a tug against the handcuffs.

  “Fuck,” I mutter, running my free hand through my hair and pulling at the ends. I hate my father. Then I turn back to Kayla and quietly say, “Sorry.”

  The darkness makes it impossible to read her face, but the passion that filled the room just minutes ago has all but evaporated, and I’m sure her sexual desire probably went with it.

  “No problem.” Her voice is soft.

  I run my fingers up her arm and to her jaw, wishing I could see what she wanted right now. She covers my fingers with her free hand, holding them to her face.

  “You
seem upset. Maybe we should just get some sleep,” she says. “And we have to get up early, anyway.”

  I inhale slowly, frustrated and irritated with Eddie for calling so late and my father for being such a dick that his decisions now affect my sex life. “Yeah.” I nod even though Kayla can’t see me. “Maybe you’re right.” I find her face and gently kiss her on the lips, not wanting her to think I’m pissed at her in any way, and she kisses me back.

  It’s a sweet kiss. No heat. No wanting. It’s a goodnight kiss.

  I pull away and she fumbles to put her shirt and shorts back on, the mattress shifting beneath her movements as she yanks it back up her arm and over her head. I do the same. Then we lie back down.

  I feel her body heat beside me but we’re not touching anymore.

  Silence falls over the room as I stare blindly into the black and mentally curse my father for ruining my life and interrupting the feel of Kayla Turner in my arms.

  27

  Kayla

  This morning, we brushed our teeth side by side at the bathroom mirror. We turned our backs on each other while we got dressed. And then we descended the staircase in the big empty house and got in my car.

  Not once did we mention last night. And so much happened.

  Getting swept up in the heat of the moment in Daren’s bed was a game changer in itself. But I also told him about my mom dying—something I haven’t told anyone other than the paramedics and cops. It’s strange how comfortable I am with Daren. Telling him actually made me feel… lighter, in a way. Like talking about my mom unloaded a burden I didn’t know I was carrying. Between working and taking care of my mom, I haven’t had much time to maintain my other relationships. So I didn’t really have anyone I could talk to about my parents passing away. But Daren makes it easy.

  And it doesn’t hurt that he knew my dad—and cared a great deal for him. I glance at him as we finish our breakfast cookies and my heart dips a little as I realize that I’m going to miss him when this is all over. When the handcuffs come off, will I ever see him again? Will he ever want to see me again?