by JB Heller
Atticus must see the picture of Callum and me that I set as his contact image, because he asks, “Is that the guy I saw you with on Friday?”
“Yes,” I say, placing the phone back down.
“You can read it,” he says.
Shaking my head, I take another swallow of beer. “No, that would be rude. It’s okay; he can wait.”
Atticus smiles as he places his empty bottle on the coffee table then picks up my phone, handing it to me. He keeps hold of one end when I try to take the cell from him. “Is he your boyfriend?” he asks.
“No,” I whisper.
His eyes stay fixed on mine. “Does he want to be?”
Licking my lips, I avert my gaze. “I think so.”
“Do you want him to be?” he asks, the timbre of his voice dropping to a seductive purr.
“No,” I confess.
“Why not?”
My eyes dart to his. He’s staring at me with so much intensity I feel it all the way down to my toes. “Because of you,” I say so quiet it’s barely a whisper.
Atticus moves so fast he’s a blur. His big hands cradle my face as he tilts it back to him. “Good,” he states then slams his mouth down over mine in a possessive meeting of lips.
The kiss is over before I have a chance to enjoy it.
He draws back just enough to look into my eyes. His words caress my lips as he speaks. “I don’t want to share you. Not with him. Not with your online audience. Not with anyone.”
I blink and let his words settle inside me.
“I know it’s not my place—not yet—but would you consider putting Miss Sadie on the shelf while we work out what this is between us?” he asks.
I’m stunned silent. Atticus comes across as an alpha male, yet he’s asking me to consider this for him. Not demanding it of me. I nod over and over again. “Yes.”
He releases a breath I didn’t realize he was holding, then with excruciating slowness, he brings his lips back to mine with a soft, almost adoring kiss. “Thank you,” he murmurs before deepening the connection and pressing his mouth to mine with intent.
Heat bubbles up inside me, swirling in my veins as his tongue touches mine for the very first time. My hands find their way into his hair, tugging lightly at the dark strands as we kiss for what seems like forever.
He groans into my mouth then adjusts the angle of my head with the hand still cupping my jaw, and his tongue sweeps over my teeth. His free hand grips my hip, and his fingertips dig into my flesh. “I’ve been dying to kiss these lips,” he says, trailing his over my cheek to my temple. “You are a mystery to me, Kinsley. One I plan to unravel.”
“Okaaay,” I breathe. Then he’s kissing me again, and I’m lost in the exquisite feel of him.
We’re both panting by the time we pull apart. He smiles and strokes my cheek with the back of his knuckles. “You are so goddamn beautiful, Kinsley, and I cannot wait to explore what we could be while getting to know you better.”
A lump forms in my throat at his words. He means them; I can see it in his gaze. He really, truly thinks I’m beautiful. The smile that blooms on my face is one hundred percent fueled by the certainty in his eyes.
He moves fast, pressing one more quick kiss to my lips before pushing from the couch to stand. “I’m going to go before I ravage you right here. But I’ll see you soon,” he says, turning to face the door, then he pauses and turns back. Picking up my cell, he slides his thumb over the screen and taps it a few times before the sound of his own phone is heard ringing from his back pocket.
“There. Now that I’ve got your number, I’ll text you instead of e-mail, if that’s alright?” he asks, returning my phone to the coffee table.
I nod, still smiling. “Okay.”
Bending at his waist, he brushes his lips against my forehead then leaves.
By the time I make it back to my own apartment, it’s almost six, and I cannot wipe the satisfied smirk off my face.
Arlo greets me from where he’s set up with his homework at the kitchen counter. “’Sup, old man? You’re looking particularly pleased with yourself.”
I snag a beer from the fridge then turn to my son and lean back against the bench opposite him. Choosing not to comment on his observation, I tilt my chin to the papers scattered around him. “Working hard, I see. I like it.”
He grins. “World domination requires good grades.”
“That’s my boy,” I say. “Makin’ your daddy proud.”
“I do what I can,” he says on a shrug then levels me with his gray-eyed stare that matches mine. “What’s put the pep in your step tonight? Dare I assume it’s the same thing that had you returning home in a towel this morning?”
Smirking, I take a swig from my beer and keep my gaze on his. “Maybe,” I reply.
“Maybe?” He arches a brow. “That’s all I get? Maybe? Come on, you gotta give me more than that. It’s about your new lady friend, isn’t it?”
I don’t bother denying it. I hope to bring Kinsley around some time in the near future. The sooner Arlo gets used to the idea, the better. “It is. She’s forgiven me for being an undeniable ass, and we’re …” I pause, not knowing exactly what we are just yet.
“Boning? Dating? Seeing each other?” Arlo supplies.
“We’re not boning,” I respond.
He chuckles and says, “Yet.”
I shrug. “Yet,” I agree with a grin. “Point is, I like this woman, and I’m going to be spending time with her.”
Arlo nods, his lips curving up in the corners. “That’s good—real good. But I’m not going to lie; it’ll be weird seeing you with someone. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a woman.” He pauses, tapping his chin. “Nope, not ever. I mean, I know you bone. But I’ve never met any of them.” Then he arches a brow. “I will be meeting this one, right? Because I’ve never seen you like this.”
Part of me wants to smile because my son is pretty damn attentive and doesn’t miss a thing. But another part of me kind of feels like I’ve been an asshole role model for him all these years. Running a hand through my hair, I straighten and tell him, “Yeah, bud, I’m going to bring this one home. You’re right; I don’t get like this with women. And I guess that’s because—” I cut myself off and swallow.
Shit, this is hard.
Sighing heavily, I push off the counter and round the bench to sit on a stool beside Arlo. “What your mother did … it really screwed me up. Don’t get me wrong, you are the best thing that ever happened to me, bud. The best. But your mother? Not so much.”
He nods and licks his lips then turns until he’s facing me. “It’s okay; I get it. The bitch fucked you up.”
Normally, I’d call him on his language; we don’t talk about women like that. But given who we’re discussing, I let it slide.
“She did,” I agree. “Does it bother you, not knowing her?”
Arlo runs his hand through his hair as he scoffs. “No. I mean, she abandoned me, and you. She doesn’t deserve to know how awesome I am. It’s not like she played a part in making me this way. That’s all on you, Daddio,” he says, grinning. Then his smile drops, and he shakes his head. “It’s because of her that you’ve never been serious with anyone, right?”
I nod. “Yeah, it held me back from building a connection with another woman. By the time I got over what she did, I didn’t have it in me to give anyone else a chance to do the same. But Kinsley slipped in under the radar. I noticed her months ago and had no intention of doing anything, but then it kind of just happened.”
Arlo listens intently then frowns. “What made you change your mind about her?”
I cringe. I really don’t want to tell him what made me approach her in the first place.
He notices my expression and continues, “I mean, what made you notice her? Like, what’s so different about her?”
Oh, now that I can answer. “She’s beautiful; that’s what got my attention initially. Then, I noticed little things about her, like a delicate
tattoo on the back of her neck, or the way she always lets others off the elevator before herself. She helps the old lady on the third floor with her groceries once a week—”
“Do I know this woman?” Arlo asks.
“I don’t think so. You’ve definitely shared the elevator with her, but you wouldn’t know her,” I explain.
He nods. “Yeah, okay. So, what you’re saying is, she’s pretty and sweet?”
“That’s an oversimplification. But essentially, yes,” I agree.
“Well, I’m happy for ya, old man. And I can’t wait to meet her.” He grins then winks.
I smile back, knowing he means what he said. “Thanks, bud.”
That night, I sleep better than I have in ages. It may have something to do with the three times I whacked off in an attempt to relieve some of the sexual tension coursing through my system after this afternoon’s make-out session. Or it could be simply because I’m happy.
Kinsley is the first thing I think of when my alarm goes off the following morning. And I can’t wipe the damn smile off my face. I want to make something of this. I want to be with her and build a lasting relationship with her. There’s so much more to know about her, though, and I want to start right away.
After showering and having another pull, I text her.
ME: Good morning, beautiful. You up for a coffee in the lobby café this morning? We can get a jumpstart on getting to know each other…
By the time I’m finished dressing, she’s replied.
KINSLEY: Morning, umm okay. We can do that. Seven work for you?
ME: Perfect.
That gives me fifteen minutes to spend with Arlo before heading down to meet her.
My son’s stuffing his face with cereal like he hasn’t eaten in months when I stride into the kitchen. “Hungry?” I tease.
He rolls his eyes as he chews what’s in his mouth. “I’m a growing boy. I need my sustenance.” After shoveling another scoop into his gob, he frowns. “You’re not having your morning caffeine hit? You going on a cleanse or something?”
“I’m having coffee with Kinsley downstairs,” I tell him.
His smile is so big it reaches his eyes. “Aww, a coffee date? How sweet.”
I flip him off, and he chuckles. “You up for a workout tonight?” I ask, leaning back against the bench.
“Sure,” he mutters around a mouthful of food.
I cringe. “That’s disgusting. Didn’t anyone ever teach you manners?”
Grinning, he shakes his head. “Nope.”
It’s my turn to shake my head. “Alright, I’ll see you tonight, then,” I say then stride down the hall to make my exit.
Anticipation floods my veins as I hit the down button on the elevator and wait. I haven’t felt this kind of exhilaration in God knows how long. Probably because I never cared whether things panned out with the flings or one-night stands in my past.
As the door slides open, I step inside and tell my overeager dick to calm down. He’s just as keen to get close to Kinsley as I am.
Nervous energy has my hands buried deep inside my pockets as I rock back and forth on my heels while I wait for the elevator to arrive.
It took me forever to settle on an outfit for today. Knowing I’ll not just be passing Atticus in the lift but that we’ll actually be spending time together, my nerves are fried. I ended up going with white skinny jeans and an extra-long, navy, cable-knit sweater over a fitted tank.
My breath catches when the metal door glides open before me, revealing the mouthwatering sight of Atticus in a bespoke three-piece, charcoal suit. His lips rise as his eyes sweep over my body from head to toe then back again.
I’m frozen, unable to make myself take the few steps that will put me inside the awaiting cart and directly in front of him. Then, he moves toward me with fluid grace, stopping not an inch from my body.
His knuckles sweep over the apple of my cheek as he stares down at me with his slate-gray eyes. “Good morning, beautiful,” he murmurs, dropping his head to brush his lips over mine in a featherlight kiss.
The touch of lips breathes life into my frozen form, and I clutch his firm biceps. “Hi,” I whisper. The moment feels intimate and intense.
“Hi,” he says back, nuzzling my neck with the tip of his nose. “You smell so good.”
“Th-thanks,” I stammer. He makes me feel so many things. All the things. All at once.
Large hands circle my waist as he tugs my body into his much larger one. I can feel the evidence of the effect I have on him pressing against my stomach. Longing blooms inside of me, making it difficult to think. I’m drawn to him like a moth to a flame; I couldn’t stay away even if I wanted to.
My fingers curl tighter around his arms as he groans against my throat. “I’ve been resisting temptation for so long, and now that I’ve given myself permission to feel—to explore—it’s all I want to do.”
A stilted, “O-oh,” is all I can manage in response to his declaration. My heart pounds like a jackhammer behind my ribs, my pulse skyrockets, and my lady bits clench with desire. What is he doing to me?
With what seems like herculean effort, judging by the expression on his face, he releases me and steps back, putting a little distance between us. He exhales, runs a hand through his hair, then smiles. “Sorry. It’s too early in the day to be this intense. You just bring something out in me that’s been dormant for a long time.”
I swallow, thinking about what he told me about his son’s mother. What she did to him. To his son. My heart aches for them. Then and there, I decide I will not hurt this man. I may have no idea what he sees in me, but if he’s willing to try after what he’s been through, so am I.
Biting down on the inside of my cheek, I steel my spine and force myself to reach out and take his hand in mine. “I think we need to call the lift back. It left without us,” I say.
His eyes shine with lust and just a little bit of humor as he extends his free hand to press the call button.
Once inside the lift, Atticus backs me against the wall, dropping his forehead against mine. “How are those burns feeling today?”
“A little tender, but okay.”
“Good,” he says, his gaze dropping to my lips. “Can I kiss you again?” he asks, his voice so husky and filled with need there’s no way I could deny him.
Instead of giving him my words, I give him my mouth. I push up onto my tippy-toes to brush my lips against his then graze my teeth over his full bottom one. He hisses into my mouth but lets me continue as I please. My tongue strokes his in soft, tentative touches.
When the bell dings and the door slides open, Atticus groans and pulls his mouth from mine, then he grins down at me, gives my fingers a squeeze, then leads the way to the café.
Kinsley and I place our orders then sit at a two-seater table in the back corner of the café. Her nervous gaze skitters around our surroundings while mine stays locked on her flushed face. Reaching across, I tangle my fingers with hers and tug until our joined hands rest on the table between us.
Her throat convulses in a harsh swallow before she brings her eyes to mine, and I give her a reassuring smile. “Do you have a busy day ahead?” I ask conversationally.
She licks her lips then nods. “Yeah, it’s always busy.”
“What do you do? I assume you work, as I’ve noticed you coming and going around the same times as I generally do.”
Her slender shoulder, shrouded by her large sweater, lifts in a shrug. “I help run the online portion of Fiora.”
Getting information out of her is obviously going to be like getting water from a stone. But I’m not going to let it deter me. I push for more. “What exactly does that mean?”
“I, umm, I was always good at techy stuff, so when I left college, I offered to make our online process more efficient. I systematically went through the way the online store for wholesalers operates and streamlined the process. I also helped set up a consumer site to sell directly to the public. That’s mainly wha
t I manage,” she explains, twisting a lock of her deep-purple hair around a finger, over and over.
I’m actually shocked she gave me as much as she did. I’m impressed as hell. “That’s incredible,” I tell her, and a deep-pink blush spreads over her cheeks. The urge to reach out and stroke those rosy cheeks is strong—so damn strong—but I hold myself back, forcing my brain to be content with the connection of our hands.
Our drinks arrive, and while I take mine with my free hand, Kinsley uses the excuse to extricate her fingers from my grasp. She wraps both hands around the steaming mug on the table in front of her.
I clear my throat and wait for those mesmerizing green orbs of hers to look up. “It sounds like you’ve done a lot of good for your family’s company. Not many in your financial position would bother putting in that kind of effort. It couldn’t have been easy.”
Her nails drum the side of her cup as she gives me a shy smile. “It’s nothing, really. I can’t exactly sit around all day twiddling my thumbs. I’d lose my mind to boredom.”
“Ah, yes you could. Many others in your financial position do. I admire you for carving out a place for yourself. I understand fashion is a competitive industry. What you’ve done would have no doubt been instrumental in keeping Fiora a major player.”
She licks her lips again, and I wish I could lean over this table to kiss her. Then, it occurs to me I can. So why the hell aren’t I?
Bracing my hands on either side of the tabletop, I push up in my seat and tower over her until she tips her head back to look at me. I grin at the perplexed expression on her face then brush my lips over hers in a soft, slow kiss.
It takes her a moment to relax into it, but when she does, her whole body loosens, and she kisses me back. Sparks of electricity shoot down my spine and settle in my balls. I pull away, dropping down into the chair, a satiated smirk spreading across my face.