“Oh." It's all she says, her mouth ajar. Her cute, little tongue peeks out and licks her lips, and I'm a goner.
I groan and close the last little bit of distance separating us and pull her into me. She doesn’t fight me, and plants her hands on my chest. It’s a glorious feeling, her in my arms. The right one.
I take my time with her this time, exploring every single detail of every single tattoo that I neglected yesterday with my tongue.
ChapterTwenty-Eight
JUSTIN
I sit in my truck, still parked by my house, thinking. It's two in the morning, and I'm back to my usual self, meaning no sleep whatsoever. It's been two days since our night together at my place, and I haven't slept since then. My body is aching, and my mind is foggy, but I still can't shut down.
After we had slow, lazy morning sex, I drove her to the diner and left her car parked beside it. I wanted to ask again what sort of business she was discussing with that fuckface, but every time his name is brought up, we fight, and I didn’t want to ruin those rare moments of real conversations we had.
Because of her, I had to jerk off these last two days. A lot. Thinking that was the cause of my two good nights of sleep before—empty balls. Turned out it was not. I look at my palms—they’re worse for wear from the past two days, more so than if I were to use my bare fingers to screw the bolts at the shop. My hand is tired, my dick is tired, my body is tired, but I still can’t fuckin’ sleep.
I dig the heels of my palms into my eyes. Even they ache and feel like they're seconds away from falling out of my eye sockets.
Fuck it. I start my engine and drive through the mountain to the place I felt at peace for the first time in forever. She's probably sleeping, and I'm about to scare her shitless, knocking on her door at night. But I don't have a choice; I need to test my theory.
And I hope I’m fucking wrong.
I park my truck behind her Jeep and slowly walk to the door, giving myself time to escape if needed. There are no lights on in the windows, obviously. Before I knock, I contemplate if I should turn back and go home before I make things even more complicated than they already are, but before I can decide, the door swings open, scaring me shitless.
Kayla greets me at her threshold, wearing a worn-out off-the-shoulder white shirt, nearly see-through, and black panties, looking sleepy and cozy. A weird, tingling feeling spreads in my chest and dips into my belly, without reaching my dick. Even though she is sexy as fuck, especially right now, the fuzzies stay in my chest, and it scares the living crap out of me. I can deal with the horny but don’t know how to deal with anything that runs deeper.
I try to say something—anything—but my throat is dry, so I cough to clear it. “Why are you not sleeping?” I croak.
“I was.” Her voice is a mess, in a feminine way, with sleep. “But had to pee and saw lights through the window.”
“Sorry.” I truly am—she looks tired.
“It’s okay. What happened?” She shivers from the cold air seeping through the open door.
I swallow a lump in my throat and look around.
“Justin, are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I hide my hands inside my pockets.
She looks me over and steps aside, leaving the doorway open. “C’mon in.”
I silently accept the invitation and follow her inside, locking the door behind me. She walks to the bedroom and crawls under the covers, scooting over to one side of the bed. Silently, too.
I take my pants and shirt off and follow her. It's warm in here and smells like her. I wrap an arm around her middle and pull her back toward me, enveloping her in a hug. She nestles her head on my bicep and sighs. I pull her closer and bury my nose in her hair. The strawberry scent now represents calm and quiet, like a chill pill for me.
I'm asleep within minutes.
* * *
A few days pass in a blur. I stay at Kayla’s, or she stays at my place. I mostly prefer to have her stay at my place with me, only because there is some weird Frank dude living in the woods next to her, and I'm totally not comfortable with it. Every time I bring the subject of him up, she laughs it off and keeps quiet. This Frank is the bane of my existence. I’m thinking of just hiding somewhere around the trailer one day to see what this fucker does when he shows because he sure as hell doesn't show up when I'm around. All I see is the rustling of bushes—this Frank is a fuckin’ ghost for all I know.
Every time we are together, I sleep. After mind-blowing sex, of course. A few rounds of that. My appetite was always over the top (well, before my dick refused to work for anyone but her), and she’s insatiable. She’s made for me, a perfect version of sinful paradise.
In the mornings, I drive her to work, where Marina has a breakfast already ready for me that she passes with a stink eye. Yet, she still gives it to me. It’s adorable, really. I think I’m growing on her.
Freya and Alex invited us over for a few dinners, and we went as a…couple, I guess? We never really put a label on it, but we’ve spent every free moment we both have together. Throughout the whole meal, Alex watched me like a hawk, conscious of my every move and every word, but I didn’t restrain myself. I can't restrain myself when Kayla’s near. So I kept touching her every moment I could, brushing her hair behind her ears, feeling her skin under my fingers, pressing my palm onto her thigh, making her giggle like a schoolgirl. God, I love that sound. So carefree and happy.
Jake came back from rehab and claims to be a changed man. I have yet to see that. We talked where he announced how unhappy he is with my relationship with Kayla, but I quickly shut him up, saying that it's none of his business. Since then, he's been staying away from me. I still haven't told him the truth. I just don't want to ruin this little bubble of happiness I happen to have here. And I know—I just know—that the moment the truth is out, our lives will be forever changed, and I’m not sure I’m ready to see just how changed they will be.
