Kenny and her insatiable appetite drift to mind. I much prefer my hands full with trying to please Kenny rather than the board of education at Garrison. An entire slew of ideas on how to do the former runs through my brain, and soon the lower half of my body is getting in on the action. And now I want nothing more than for Kenny to walk through that door.
The door rattles, and I jump up to get it.
It’s like she read my mind.
I swing it wide open and Molly stares up at me, her arms weighed down with boxes full of her stuff.
“Good timing,” she says, handing them off to me. I spot Kenny behind her with a matching load in her arms.
“Do you believe this?” Molly points hard at the B and B while I set the boxes down. “It’s the freaking Plague! This is going to be so cool! They’re finally going to put this sleepy town on the map. I hear they’re huge in Japan.”
“I bet.” I kiss Kenny on the lips as I take the boxes from her, too. “There’s something I need to show you out back a little later.” I give a quick wink. The last thing I want is Molly listening in while I drive Kenny out of her mind, and I do plan on inducing a heavy bout of insanity in her. “So how was class, girls?”
“Kenny here”—Molly smirks over at her before continuing—“is vying for teacher’s pet.”
“What?” I seriously doubt this. The only teacher’s pet Kenny is allowed to be is mine. I give her a quick wink.
“Oh, be quiet.” She brushes Molly off. “I had a few questions about the assignment, and he wanted to take a look at my work after class. I think your sister here is just jealous that I actually had a conversation with him.”
“You were whispering in his ear. Your body was pressed against his. I saw the whole thing.” Molly sticks a finger down her throat and mock gags.
My body temperature spikes. No reason to panic. That’s his job. Kenny is his student, and it’s her job to ask questions. Nothing more than a scholastic exchange took place. The last thing I’m going to do is make her feel bad about it.
“I bet he wanted to see everybody’s work.” I frown over at Molly for trying to make something out of nothing.
“Nope.” Molly pops open a bag of chips and shoves one into her mouth. “Just Kenny’s.” Molly only calls her “Kenny” when she’s trying to get under my skin.
I glance up at Kenny, and she shakes her head dismissively. “We’d better get the rest of the boxes out of my car before it gets dark.”
Molly and I help unload the rest of her things, and soon the living room looks like a storage facility.
“I’ll move these into my room tonight.” Molly starts sliding a stack of boxes to her bedroom, so I take over. By the time I finish, my back feels like it’s about to snap in two, so I crash on the sofa.
“Hey, cowboy,” Kenny purrs into my ear from above. “I believe you promised me a trip to the barn a little earlier. Got a wild mustang in the corral you want to show off?”
A dull laugh pumps from me. “You sure know how to get me fired up.” I hop off the couch and shout to Molly that we’re going for a walk. The truth is, the only thing I’d like to do with Kenny right now is a little mattress rodeo, but because the walls are made of onionskin, that’s going to be impossible for a good long while.
I take Kenny’s hand and head out into the night, shocked as hell to see that the movers are still working away as vigorously as they were this afternoon.
“What the hell?” I take a step toward the melee, dazed by the sight.
A dozen oversized spotlights ignite the area like a football stadium, and a glow emits from the vicinity as if the bed-and-breakfast has become a nuclear reactor.
“Shit.” I let out a breath and a plume of vapor emits from my lips. It’s freezing out, and I’m not sure the weather’s conducive to helping Kenny reach that nirvana I planned on taking her to.
“Do you really think it’s a good idea to let these guys just come in and take over like this?” Kenny presses into me as we walk briskly past the mayhem.
“No. I know for sure it’s not a good idea, but I’m hoping the financial payout will far exceed the risk.” Speaking of which, the Skin never did stop by to discuss the deposit. Then again, she is Cal’s relative—I suppose this arrangement is a little more casual than for an ordinary tenant. Only something tells me the fact she’s related to Cal is precisely why I should have taken it up front and double.
I wrap my arm around Kenny’s waist, and we follow the stream up the property a way. The noise from the traffic and the movers drifts farther and farther away until it feels like a memory.
“Peace at last.” I press a careful kiss over her cheek and take in the scent of her hair, chamomile and honey. Kenny is sweet tea in the flesh. “I like it like this. Just you and me.” And yet already I miss it being just Kenny and me back at the cabin. I’d never ask Molly to leave, but I’ll be glad when this Plague that has taken over our lives finally clears out and things get back to normal around here.
“I like it like this, too.” She clasps her hands around my waist and lays her head over my shoulder. “We’re going to have this forever.”
We take a seat under the overgrown pepper tree, and I pull Kenny onto my lap.
“You know what the best part of each day is?” I hum it low into her ear, and her spine shivers over my chest. “Falling asleep with you in my arms—knowing you’ll be there in the morning.”
“Mmm,” Kenny purrs. “I feel the exact same way. What we have is a gift.” She wiggles her hips into my lap, extending the invitation to yet another gift. “I wouldn’t trade it for all the riches in the world.”
“I’m glad you feel that way. At the rate I’m going we might be stuck in that cabin longer than you think.”
“Cruise . . .” Kenny twists in my arms and looks up at me with those crystalline eyes. I could sink a thousand years just staring into Kenny’s beautiful eyes. It’s as if God stole a piece of the sky and let her have it, because she’s just that beautiful. “I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life in the cabin with you. It’s perfect. It’s our home. As long as you’re with me that’s more than enough.”
She traces out my features with her finger, and my boxers start to tick. I wasn’t really planning on bringing the boys to the party tonight. I really want the focus to be one hundred percent on Kenny and her needs. That’s what I plan on doing for the rest of my life, putting her needs first.
A tiny breath escapes her. “Of course, I still want a really nice wedding.” She says that last part a little louder, and my mind replaces the word nice with expensive.
“Did I tell you?” Her face lights up. “I found an amazing bone-colored Vera Wang that’s to die for! Only that particular shade washes me out because my hair is so damn dark. I was thinking of cutting it real short in one of those asymmetrical styles to offset the sweetheart neckline and really bring out my—”
“Whoa, princess.” I rock her in my arms and give a gentle laugh. “Please don’t think you need to cut your hair to match your dress. Cut it only if you want to. I’d love you without hair, but I’d hate to see you get caught up in the wicked web of live bands and DJ combos just yet.”
“Just yet?” She snaps her head up at me and her eyes blaze with an unfamiliar fire.
Something tells me we’ve strayed onto dangerous terrain.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She snaps it out so fast that instinctually I want to reach down and cover my balls. “We’re getting married in . . . Less. Than. Three. Months. Three months!” She shouts that last part out and her voice comes back to us as an echo.
Holy shit. Something tells me I’ve lit the very short fuse to a bridal bomb.
Why doesn’t life have a “Rewind” button? There’s nothing more I’d like than to rewind and take back the words “just yet.”
“It’s like you don’t even care,” she goes on without missing a beat. “I bet you want one of those ‘backyard weddings,’ and you want me to sew my own weddin
g dress and bake my own cake. I bet you’d love it if Cal barbecued and we all sat around afterward watching ESPN.”
ESPN? Is that big at weddings?
Her lips quiver like she’s about to cry, but I can tell she hasn’t discounted the idea of ripping my balls off—so I do the only thing I know. I land my lips over hers and slip my hand up her skirt. It’s high time I put my body to work to untangle her nerves—defuse her before her world blows to bits over dinner arrangements and music. Kenny is perfectly wet, waiting—wanting.
I run my fingers along her heated slick and Kenny moans into my neck. I work in deliberate, slow circles, working my way up to a pressured pace until she’s clawing at my chest.
“Enjoy it, baby,” I whisper into her ear. “This is all about you.” I want to make this happen for her just like I’d love to see her dream wedding happen. I don’t know how, but I plan on ensuring each one of her wedding dreams comes true.
I ride over her harder and faster until she snaps her neck back, trying hard to keep from losing it.
“Take it.” I whisper. “Let it out. I want to hear you.”
Kendall bucks into my chest and gives a heated cry that rips from her lungs like a drill. She digs her nails into my arms as her legs clamp down over me, and I gently bring my hand up and rub a warm, wet circle over her belly.
“I love you, Kenny Jordan.” I kiss her over the ear and leave my lips there.
“I love you, Cruise Belton.”
I give a little chuckle at her surname slipup.
She’s so damn cute.
5
IN THE SWING OF THINGS
Kendall
A week zips by and I’ve spent countless hours writing, editing, and effectively freaking out over my first short story in the Naughty Professor series . . . serial . . . whatever. Honestly, the word serial evokes all kinds of crazy thoughts in my head, like Cruise chasing me around with a hatchet. It’s definitely not a word I’d voluntarily attach to our lovemaking, but then that was Lauren’s doing. Anyway, I digress, I’ve sent countless drafts to Kurt—or as Molly insists on calling him, Professor Curl-Your-Toes—and he’s graciously been editing them to perfection for me. Lauren had me send her a final copy last night. She’s insistent on handling all the “details” that will magically make my read-by-the-chapter book appear on the Sorority Net website.
God, people are actually going to read this! It’s like I’ve opened our bedroom door and sold tickets to some invisible peanut gallery, and Cruise has no idea how deceptively delicious it all is. But, to be truthful, I’m not so sure he’d find my deception so delicious. I have a feeling he’d be outright pissed and rightfully so. In fact, maybe that’s when the hatchet chasing ensues and the reason Lauren insisted on calling this a serial comes to light. My enterprising erotic ramblings will have unwittingly turned my sweet fiancé into a homicidal felon.
I breeze into Starbucks after my last class of the day, or more accurately, my latest meet-and-greet with my editor. I giggle to myself at the thought. It all sounds so official it’s almost scary. I give a brief wave over at Lauren and Ally. The sharp scent of fresh brewed coffee infiltrates my sense, and I can feel the weight of this entirely too long school week dripping off my shoulders like a lead coat. I just want to get home and relax with Cruise—and, well, get started on chapter two.
“Hello, ladies.” I plop into a seat and mouth “thank you” over to Ally for having my drink at the ready. I admire the caramel dripping down the inside of the translucent cup and curl my lips. Penny and Cruz sort of have a caramel fetish going on at the moment. It’s pretty exciting. It’s like I get to have two sex lives and they’re both with Cruise. If that isn’t win-win, I don’t know what is. “So what’s new with you guys?”
Ally perks up. She’s so sweet and beautiful—I’m really happy for her and Morgan.
“Well”—she chews on her lip—“I may have told Penelope Sandoval that I’d take one of her puppies off her hands.”
“Dogs aren’t allowed in our building.” Lauren shakes her head like an irritated parent.
“But they’re Siberian huskies. They’re going to have those piercing blue eyes and black-and-white coats. It’s basically the canine version of Morgan. They’re the sexiest dog on the planet and believe you me, I’m getting me one.”
“Sexiest dog on the planet?” Lauren lets out a groan like she’s physically in pain. “No dogs, Ally. Before you dabble in bestiality, I need you to realize that the rental agreement I signed on your behalf was watertight. You’re going to get yourself kicked out, and you’ll be homeless again. You’d better tell Penelope and her puppy they’re both out of luck.”
Lauren helped Ally get the place and now they’re neighbors. They used to be roommates at one of the dorms, just last semester. So much has changed so quickly. My engagement ring catches the light and I admire it—white platinum and a simple diamond. I know it probably seems like things are moving at the speed of light for Cruise and me, but when you find “the one” you’re just happy to go along for the supersonic ride.
“I love dogs,” I offer, still staring dreamily at my ring. “I realize this doesn’t help”—I touch my hand to Lauren’s for a moment—“but, back in California, we had one growing up. He really did add stability to our lives. He was always there to greet us when we came home. He sat right next to me while I did my homework. We ate all our meals with him there by our feet. He was like a member of the family. My mother used to tease that he took my father’s place.” Rat bastard. “Anyway, I’m sure the dog added much better stability than my father ever could have.” True story. Hey? Did I just admit to being raised by a dog? Nevertheless, I’m positive it was better than his human counterpart.
“Relax,” Ally quips in Lauren’s direction. “The dog isn’t for me, it’s for Ruby.”
Ruby is Ally’s four-year-old daughter, whom she gave up for adoption. It’s an open adoption, so she gets to see her at least once a month. Morgan had the chance to meet her a few weeks back, on Ruby’s birthday. He said that she was a living doll, that he helped teach her how to ride a bike. Just the image alone melted me. Morgan is going to be a great father one day.
“Ruby? Oh, that’s a great idea.” Lauren nods. “And that way you’ll still have a roof over your head, and I’ll still have my favorite neighbor.” Lauren slings her arm over Ally’s shoulder, pulling her into a headlock of a hug. Come to think of it, that’s sort of Lauren’s signature embrace.
“Speaking of a roof over your head . . .” I segue into the trials and sexual tribulations of having Molly stay with us. “The quick and dirty of it? She’s killing Cruise’s mojo. And get this! She actually applauded when I climaxed last night and shouted, “Now I can finally get some fucking sleep!”
Lauren and Ally both lose themselves in a bout of choo-choo train laughter.
“It’s not funny. If this keeps up, she’ll totally put a damper on chapter two. By the way, Kurt says I’ve really got a knack for this. He’s amazed at the level of detail I’ve managed and he says—”
“Kurt?” Ally is stuck on first, and I’ve already run home with the conversation.
“That’s my creative writing teacher,” I tell her. “He’s kind of out there, but he’s the one I had edit the story. Once I managed to overlook his spontaneous desk-sitting, the taking off of the shoes, the holey socks, which he may or may not change, his granola-eating ways—Kurt is actually a really nice guy.”
Lauren dips the tip of her finger in her mouth. “Kendall gave me chapter one last night, and I’ve already uploaded it to Sorority Net.”
“It’s up?!” I slam both my palms on the table and our drinks jump a few inches to the left. You’d think I was excited about Cruise’s fifth appendage the way I belted that out. Belted . . . see what I did there? “People are actually going to see it? Read it?” God, now I feel completely foolish for hardly making an effort to veil our identities. “Word is going to get back to Cruise and he’s going to kill me.” Hatche
t Cruise rears his gorgeous felony-in-the-making head at me.
“Oh, he is not.” Lauren is quick to brush off the idea. “Besides, I’ve been tracking sales and if you continue to climb like you have been, you’re going to have the most sought-after serial on the book forums. Popularity equals subscriptions, so keep up the good work. And, I took the—” She clamps her mouth shut and manufactures a smile.
“And you took the what?” I lean in, suddenly very interested in what would cause Lauren Tell-’em-What-You’re-Really-Thinking Ashby to clamp shut on a dime. Lauren’s not one to shy away from anything. She’s got lady balls of steel.
“I took the liberty to add it to a few other sites.” She lets the words dribble out the side of her mouth. “It’s no big deal. It just gives you more visibility. I’ll keep you updated on sales. Trust me, if things go well, you’ll have plenty to fund your wedding. Speaking of which, did you find a church?”
I crumple my napkin and pitch it across the table. “I spent all week calling every church in Carrington, and they all gave the same answer: Christmas Eve service trumps Christmas Eve weddings. Not to mention, they all preferred if I were a member of their congregation for at least six months. It looks like it’s a trip to the courthouse for me.”
“That’s not so bad.” Ally rubs her warm hand over my shoulder.
“In blue jeans no less,” I add. “I’ve gone online and nearly died at the price of some of those wedding dresses. And the Vera I’m after will cost me a liver on the black market.”
Lauren nearly spits out her coffee. She never wiggles with excitement, so immediately both Ally and I are amused. “Speaking of wedding dresses,” Lauren says, “come with me next week. I’ve narrowed it down to three, and I’d really like your opinions.”
“Of course.” I can barely manage the words. It’s going to kill me to be around all those creamy, dreamy wedding dresses, knowing that I can’t have a single one. It’s like taking a diabetic to a bakery and shoving her face in a vat of buttercream frosting.