Never Kiss A Stranger (A Hot Romantic Comedy)

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Never Kiss A Stranger (A Hot Romantic Comedy) Page 10

by Logan Chance


  Nope.

  Not today.

  “Oh, I didn’t realize it was a joint thing.” I glance down at my trimmed nails. “I think I’m all good.”

  Kiki looks at Spanky and parks both hands on her hips, looking sexy as hell. “Do you want a pawdicure with your daddy?”

  He yelps out that same barking sound and wags his tail.

  Traitor.

  “Don’t you have some sort of drop off package thing?”

  “Oh, come on. where’s the fun in that?” She gives me this slow smile that she hasn’t given me before, and I find myself whipping out my wallet to buy anything this girl is offering.

  Next thing I know, I’m wearing a paw-print robe over my clothes and reclined in a leather chair with Spanky sitting on a smaller version next to me.

  He looks like those dogs on the internet getting the complete spa package, all he’s missing is the cucumber slices over his eyes.

  He’s loving this.

  Kiss ass.

  “I’m going to do the blueberry facial for you, while Spanky relaxes for a bit.”

  Music plays in the room at a low volume as Kiki moves to a tall white cabinet, rattles some things around, and returns with a small bowl.

  “Be gentle with me,” I tell her. And immediately, I envision hard and rough sex. Her bent over this chair with that little sundress pushed up over her ass and my dick sinking deep inside her pussy.

  Fuck.

  “I have the softest touch in town.” I’ll bet she does. She sets the bowl on a mini table beside me. “This will be a little cold at first,” she says, pressing her hands on my cheeks.

  I jolt a little, and not because of the temperature of the paste, but because she’s touching me. And it feels fucking phenomenal.

  Whisper-soft, she rubs the lotion into my skin, and I close my eyes, because if I keep gazing into hers right now, I may do something we’d both regret—like kiss her.

  She massages my face, across my cheekbones and forehead, along the jaw, and I have to say, this is definitely spawesome. It’s like a perfectly crafted dance. Ever see Karate Kid?

  The original ones, not the one with Will Smith’s kid. Daniel and the girl do this tea ceremony, and it’s like the slowest form of foreplay ever known to man.

  That’s what this is. This is achingly slow foreplay.

  But, I’m totally digging it.

  I don’t dare say a word. I don’t even breathe until she stops rubbing and then places a warm cloth over my face.

  “Your skin is so smooth,” she murmurs, removing the cloth from my face and reaching out to ghost her hand from my forehead to my jaw.

  Our eyes connect and there’s really nothing in this moment that could make me break this connection.

  Except, Spanky. He does that annoying little bark/yelp thing to interrupt the moment and she quickly pulls away.

  Jackass.

  “So when is the big day?” she asks, moving to a porcelain sink and washing her hands. “We should probably start planning.”

  “Fuck. Listen, I have a confession.” She looks over her shoulder at me. “I don’t have a dog.”

  “Are you ok?” She nearly has a unibrow at this point, but if anyone can rock it, she can. “I’m pretty sure that’s a dog beside you.”

  “He’s not mine.” And then I keep going, “I kind of borrowed him.”

  Hopefully, the wrinkle between Kiki’s brow is not an indication she's about to bolt from this room. There’s no way I can keep up the charade, though. I hate lying to her. I’d have to find a German Shepherd to marry Spanky and it’s just easier to come clean. Based on the way Spanky humps everything, I’m not sure he’s the marrying type anyway.

  “Why would you do that?” she asks, her lower lip jutting out.

  “I just wanted to take you out.”

  She clears her throat and goes through an agonizingly slow process of drying her hands for what feels like centuries before she finally responds, “Take me out? Like a date?”

  This girl is so dang pretty it’s hard to actually focus on what she’s saying. I know, I’m going to Hell. I’m not usually one of those types of guys. You know, the ones that can’t stop staring at a good set of tits. I’ve glanced at Kiki’s once or twice, but I’m not leering.

  I’m appreciating.

  “Well, going out doesn’t need a name.” I stand. “I want to get to know you.”

  And I do. I want to know all about her spa and what she does for fun. I want to know the color of her panties and the sounds she makes when she comes. I’m not going to suggest we label this as friends, because there’s no way I’m putting myself in the deathly friend-zone.

  “You look really stressed,” I tell her. “Want me to give you a facial?”

  To my surprise, ‘cause I have no idea how to give a facial, she walks to the chair and sits down. “Yes,” she says, closing her eyes. “Use what’s left in the bowl.”

  “Look, there’s a party at my brother’s house,” I tell her, dipping my fingers into the goo. I glide it beneath her eyes, like war paint. Her skin is like gossamer as I rub the pads of my thumbs across her cheeks. “You can come and hang out. You have to eat anyway.”

  “A party. Hm,” she muses. “You don’t think it’s too soon?”

  She’s not saying no, and I’m taking that as a good sign. “I think time is relative.”

  “Ok,” she agrees, opening her eyes. “We can...socialize.”

  I trace my fingers around the bow of her lips. “Yes, socialize. I like that.”

  Now I’m fucking nervous. I don’t get nervous. This is my one shot, and why this is so important to me, I don’t know.

  “Tell me about your business,” I say, gliding my fingers along her jaw.

  She closes her eyes again and tells me all about how her and Poppi started the Dog Spaw with a small bank loan and a dream. How every bit of their success is because of their dedication to each client. She’s smart and that’s a big fucking turn on. I’m captivated by her, hanging on her every word.

  I think the thing that makes her so damn attractive is she doesn’t even know how cute she is. She looks like a blueberry, and I love it. I want to lick it all off her face. God, it’s like I’ve been transported back to high school.

  I don’t want this to end. For the first time in a long time, I feel grounded.

  The urge to spread the concoction across the ridge of her collarbone and onto her breasts is strong, but she puts an end to the facial. “You’re really good at this,” she says, placing her hand on mine, “but I should get back to work.”

  Before I can assure her I’m much better at other things, she swings her legs to the side of the chair and stands to grab a towel to wipe her face.

  “Ok, Spanky,” she says, “your turn.”

  He wags his tail and I lean against the wall to watch her work.

  A popular song pipes into the room—maybe Taylor Swift?—and she sings along as she pampers Spanky.

  I smile as I listen to her. “Umm, I don’t think that was the actual lyric.”

  Kiki stops singing. “It totally was. Trust me.” She starts singing again, and this time I know she’s not saying the right words.

  I laugh. “Don’t think those are the right words either.”

  I’m going to be honest, this girl can not carry a tune, but she’s committed, and I have to give her credit for that.

  When Spanky is all done, and his t-rex legs are on the salon door, trying to push it open, I give her the details for the party tomorrow night.

  The party I made up. And now, I have to convince Urban to have one.

  “Just invite a few people,” I coax my brother as we lounge on the back patio of his house that’s located along the water. “It’s not like you don’t entertain here.”

  Who can blame him? His house is five-thousand square feet of pure relaxation. Boat dock, massive patio set-up with outdoor kitchen and bar, and of course big patio doors that stay open with the soft-billowy curtain
s flowing in the breeze.

  “I don’t know,” he says with a grin. “I usually only entertain one woman at a time.”

  I roll my eyes. “I need a party to happen tomorrow night. Do this, and I’ll tell you what I’m working on.”

  “Why don’t you just ask her to dinner, like a normal person?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  Urban stands from his patio chair and heads to the mini-fridge in his outdoor kitchen to grab another beer. “Why? You said she broke it off with Henry.”

  I stare out at the water. “I don’t want to rush things.”

  “So, you say.” He returns to his chair. “Are you ready to get married?”

  I nearly spit out my beer. “Married? We haven’t even been on a date yet.”

  He reclines back in his chair. “Yeah, but it’s obvious she wants to get married, right? I mean, she was just engaged. Someone like her is probably expecting you to propose to her after a short courtship like Henry did.”

  I pull at the collar of my Polo shirt. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

  “Ah,” he says.

  “Ah what?”

  He points his beer bottle at me. “You’re already defending her honor.”

  “Just have a small party,” I tell him. “I’ll owe you one.”

  “Oh, you already owe me,” he says. “Ok, I’ll do it. Now let’s talk business. Any updates on Henry?”

  “He said he’s still working on it.” I lean forward and rest my arms on the table. “Is it even going to matter? Does he even care?”

  “It matters to me,” he says.

  “Why are we trying so desperately to save something our own father couldn’t care less about?”

  Urban fixes his hazel eyes on mine. “Listen, forget about Dad. There’s other people invested in this brewery, besides him.”

  He’s right. Urban and I both have a lot to lose.

  I smile wide. “What do you think about dogs drinking beer?”

  FOURTEEN

  Kiki

  Never stop dancing...

  “How did you find this place?”

  “It’s the newest thing,” Lola yells to me with her boobs bouncing to the beat of the loud techno music pumping from two black speakers not more than ten feet away.

  “This is definitely a winner,” Poppi says, dancing to the rhythm, amidst the crowd of exercisers.

  “I told you, morning raves are the hottest new way to work out.” Lola gyrates her hips, sweat already dripping from her brow.

  Yes, you guessed it. Lola has struck again. This time, in a warehouse type room with a live DJ on stage, a morning rave erupts around us. The space even has enormous LED screens on the walls and an immersive light display.

  Seven a.m. is way too early for this insanity.

  But as I glance around, the throng of women clad in workout gear, dancing their asses off, appear to be loving it.

  And I have to admit a secret, I’m kind of loving it too. It’s a very cool jumpstart to a boring Wednesday morning.

  I may not be the best dancer, but these flashing lights kind of put everyone in the room on the same level. This is definitely better than a goat trampling all over me. As the lights change from blue to pink to yellow, I put a little extra sexy in my movements, practicing for the party tonight.

  Blue—run my hands through my hair.

  Pink—shoulder roll.

  Yellow—lower body curl.

  “You ok?” Poppi asks.

  Blue—hand on my head, chest pump.

  Pink—pursed lips, head nod.

  Yellow—down to the ground.

  “Oh my god, Lola,” Poppi yells over the music, “Something is wrong with Kiki.”

  I pop up from my shimmy. “What? I’m just dancing.”

  “Oh.” She laughs. “Carry on then.”

  And I do. By the time the class ends, I’ve got a good handle on all my moves.

  “That was so much fun,” I say on the way out.

  “You looked like you were possessed,” Poppi says as we step out into the sunlight. I prefer haunted, but semantics.

  Lola smiles. “Maybe it has something to do with her date tonight.”

  I laugh. “It’s not a date.”

  “Do you plan on talking to Henry about it?” Lola asks.

  I nod, opening my car door. “I do. It’s only fair. Besides, I still have a few of his things at my house.”

  We say our goodbyes, and I head home to shower and dress, and then make my way to work.

  Once I’m there, I focus on the pups and nothing else. If I start thinking about Ellis and the party tonight, nothing will get done. So, I won’t let myself succumb to such temptation.

  The day goes by in a blur of pampering pooches and ends with an inquiry from my last customer about a wedding for her Great Dane. To say I’m excited is an understatement.

  “I feel sorry for Precious’ husband. She’s a real bitch,” Poppi mutters as I lock the door. “Who knew dog weddings would become a thing?”

  “Yes, isn’t it great.”

  Poppi smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, then it turns into a frown. “Should I be upset that Precious can find someone so easily, and I can’t?”

  “What about the farmer?” I cringe at the reminder of the whole farm slash goat incident. “I thought you had a little crush on him?”

  Poppi stares at her pink-tipped nails. “Yes, I did.”

  “Past tense?”

  “Well, we talked on the phone a few times and everything was going great. But then, he never called again.”

  “Poppi, if a man wants you bad enough he’ll make the effort.” I smile a warm smile. “Don’t stress, you’ll find someone soon.”

  She sighs. “I know, I know. For now, I’ll just live vicariously through you.”

  I laugh, but the laughter isn’t real. I don’t like seeing my friend upset, and I wish there was something I could do. “Want to eat ice cream?”

  She shakes her head. “Promise, I’m not that upset.”

  “Want to go to a party with me tonight?”

  She contemplates for a minute, but then smiles. “No, I actually have a good book I want to snuggle up with tonight.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, go enjoy your night with Ellis.”

  I give Poppi a hug. “I love you, girl.”

  She swats me away, jokingly. “Go, get out of here.”

  445 Cabana Way. See you at 7.

  From my car, I read the text from Ellis with Urban’s address, to make sure I’m at the right house. The numbers on the two-story monstrous house match, but there are no cars lining the street. Maybe the other guests arrived by boat. The rich can transport themselves however they want.

  Part of me thinks I should go back home and cancel this socialization with Ellis, but as I walk the pathway leading to the front of the house, the door swings open. “Hey,” Ellis greets me. He grins, effectively shutting down my qualms about being here.

  “Hi.” I step onto the front porch. “This is a beautiful home.”

  “I’m glad you came,” he says, placing his hand on the small of my back to lead me into the entryway, through the living room, and out onto a spectacular back deck with a view of the water.

  “Hello there,” his brother says, rising from his seat at the patio table. “There was a little mishap, and I forgot to invite people.”

  Ellis runs a hand through his hair and looks over at me. “Yeah, looks like it’s just us three.”

  “Well, three is plenty,” I say, unsure how you forget to invite people to a party but relieved I don’t have to mingle with strangers. Apparently, I only kiss them.

  We spend a few minutes chit chatting, and then Ellis says, “I have a surprise for you.”

  “Should I be nervous?” I tease him.

  “You’ll see.” He tells Urban we’ll be back soon, then takes my hand, and leads me down the stairs toward the boat dock. “Urban loaned me his sport fisher.”

 
It’s big. It’s like a yacht without the fancy title.

  As I board, I realize my turquoise mini-dress was a mistake. The breeze catches the floaty skirt and I have a Marilyn Monroe moment with my ass in Ellis’ face.

  “Fuck,” he grits out.

  “Fuck is right,” I say back as I attempt to cover my thong. This is how I know for sure I avoided disaster with Henry—I never made an effort with my panties.

  When I’m finally on board, I avoid looking at him. But I can feel his penetrating stare as I shrug on a life vest. I’m not required to wear one, but...I feel like I’m drowning.

  He steers the boat into the Intracoastal Waterway, stopping to let the boat float in the water, and I peek over at him from my seat. He looks magnificent, like a rogue pirate, with the wind tugging at his dark hair.

  “I brought some food too,” he says. “Hope you like sandwiches.”

  I laugh. “I love sandwiches.”

  He gazes at me with a look in his eyes, that tells me something is on his mind. “I just want to say something.” He bites his full bottom lip, and it makes me want to bite it too. “I understand if you want to take things slow. I’m still not really sure what this is, or what this pull is I have toward you...”

  I stand, making my way across the hardwood deck until I’m next to him. “Let’s not put a label on things. It only complicates everything.”

  He lets out a deep breath in relief. “I like that idea.” He inches closer, his eyes hazy. “You know what else I like?”

  “No, what?”

  “You. I like that you put this safety vest on, even though if you went over I’d jump in to save you in a heartbeat. I like the way you blushed when I saw your perfect ass. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the first moment I laid eyes on you. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that kiss we shared that day, and how badly I want to do it again.”

  He leans in, planting his lips over mine, and the next thing I know I feel like I’m floating away on a cloud of lust. Corny, I know, but oh so true.

  I cling tighter to him as he deepens the kiss, stroking his tongue against mine.

  His hands remove the life jacket, and then explore my back and hips. Somehow, we make our way down into the cabin of the boat still lip-locked.

 

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