Dropout (The Good Guys Book 3)

by Jamie Schlosser

  He managed to touch me at all times, while keeping it completely innocent.

  It was thrilling and new.

  By the time we made it into my bed—for sleep only—my body was a jittery mess of hormones. The place between my thighs was wet, hot, and achy.

  I’d never been more turned on in my life.

  Who knew hand-holding could be such amazing foreplay?

  CHAPTER 18

  MACKENNA

  “This color is one hundred times better,” I said to Jimmy as I covered the bright green bricks with the new paint.

  “You pretty much picked it out,” he told me with a grin. I gave him a questioning look and he laughed. “I went to Home Depot and asked for sage green. I’d never heard of it before you said it that day. Seems like it was a good choice, though.”

  I was surprised that he even remembered such an insignificant conversation. “It’s a popular color because it’s subtle. I think the mayor will approve.”

  He moved by me to roll paint on the other side of the window I was trimming around. “As long as it doesn’t rain, we should be able to finish this weekend.”

  “Oh, that reminds me. I’m staying at my parents’ house tonight, so you’re off babysitting duty,” I joked. “But I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”

  Jimmy stopped rolling and frowned. “You’re not doing that because you think you’re a burden or anything, right? Because I don’t mind. Your bed is a hell of a lot more comfortable than mine anyway.”

  I shook my head. “I’ve been planning it for a while. I feel kind of guilty because I don’t visit them as much as I should. Plus, I miss my sister.”

  A half-smile appeared on Jimmy’s face. “I didn’t realize you have a sister.”

  Pulling up the most recent picture on my phone, I turned it toward him. Krista and I were on the couch at my parents’ house, our heads pressed together as we took a selfie.

  “She’s fifteen, and it’s like she completely skipped the awkward teenager phase and went straight to being cute as a button.”

  “I love it when you smile,” Jimmy said, peering closer. “I thought you two would look more alike. But then again, my brother and I couldn’t be more different.”

  “We have some similarities, but her hair is lighter and her eyes are darker. She’ll probably end up being taller than me, too. How old is your brother?” I asked, slipping my phone into the back pocket of my shorts.

  “Ezra’s a year younger,” he said before telling me about his brother’s limp, how shy he was, and how he would be spending the summer at a physical therapy camp. There was so much affection in his voice when he added, “He’s the coolest kid I know.”

  “Cooler than you?”

  He grinned. “Way cooler.”

  Most of the morning had been spent with Jimmy and me working silently side by side. Only this time, the lack of conversation wasn’t intentional on my part. It was just comfortable.

  Every now and then, we exchanged smiles and flirty glances.

  Sometimes I caught him staring at my mouth, and the need to feel his lips on mine was so intense that it became a physical ache. My nipples tightened to the point of painful. I throbbed between my thighs. I licked my lips, which felt hot and tingly.

  Jimmy hadn’t shaved for a couple days, and I yearned to feel the dark scruff scrape against my cheeks, my chin, my neck. But just when I thought he was finally going to give in, he’d turn away and go back to painting.

  It frustrated the hell out of me.

  In less than a week, I’d gone from recoiling at the idea of being intimate with someone to feeling like I had to physically restrain myself from launching my body at him like a spider monkey.

  Of course, he was shirtless again. Jimmy seemed to be in a permanent state of half-dressed 90% of the time, which only added fuel to the fire.

  Being a temptress wasn’t my expertise. I knew nothing about the art of seduction.

  But all I wanted was a damn kiss.

  So far, my efforts to get him to make a move weren’t successful. I’d purposely left my paint bucket next to his so I would have a reason to get close to him. A few times I let my arm touch him in some way—his stomach or his chest—but he seemed to remain unaffected.

  By coincidence, Jimmy ended up bending down to refill my bucket at the same time I went to dip the brush. This resulted in me smearing paint down the side of his face.

  I giggled, and he shot me an amused look. Then I decided to take full advantage of the situation.

  “Here,” I said, whipping my T-shirt over my head, leaving me in a black sports bra.

  Pressing my body against his, I leaned up to wipe off the mess. Jimmy’s hands fell to my waist. His fingers clenched against my bare skin, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to pull me closer or push me away.

  “Mack,” he rasped.

  “Hmm?” I said innocently while dabbing at his jaw.

  “Are you pushing me on purpose?” His voice was low and husky.

  Our eyes locked. All I could do was nod as I wiped the last of the paint away.

  The sound he responded with was tortured as he briefly leaned his forehead against mine. “I’m trying to go slow with you, but you’re making it really difficult.”

  “Turtles are slow. Snails are even slower. Then there’s you,” I teased.

  His jaw tensed. “What do you want?”

  “A kiss would be nice,” I answered honestly.

  Jimmy walked me backwards, until I was flush against the side of the house. I was fully aware that the paint was still wet and I probably had brick print all over my backside.

  Strong arms caged me in as he placed a hand on each side of my head. I waited to feel that old familiar panic build inside of me, but it never came. Instead of feeling trapped, I felt safe.

  “Jimmy… Do you want to kiss me?”

  Licking his lips, he didn’t take his eyes off my mouth as he nodded.

  “They why don’t you just do it already?” I challenged, my voice barely above a whisper.

  He leaned in closer until our faces were just inches apart.

  “Because I feel like if I do this, things will change,” he replied. “And I’m not sure you’re ready for it.”

  I shook my head, confused. “What will change?”

  “Everything,” he breathed out before closing the distance.

  Soft lips met mine and I gasped at the gentleness of it. I thought Jimmy’s kiss would be rough and demanding, but it was slow. Deliberate. Unbelievably sensual.

  My eyes closed as our mouths moved together.

  That plump, pouty bottom lip. It did things to me. I wanted to suck it into my mouth. I wanted to bite it, then lick the sting away.

  But just as quickly as the kiss started, it ended.

  A sexy sound rumbled in Jimmy’s throat as he reluctantly pulled back. Before he could get too far, I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck.

  “More. Please,” I pleaded against his mouth. “Please don’t stop yet.”

  “Damn.” Jimmy gave me what I wanted as he dove back in.

  He cupped my face, the large span of his hand covering my cheek and the side of my neck. I could feel the sticky paint transfer from his fingers to my skin.

  The gentle kisses continued, but I wanted more. Deeper. Harder.

  Hesitantly, my tongue swept out, tasting the seam of his lips. Jimmy must have taken that as a green light, because his mouth opened wider and he let me in. Our tongues melded together in perfect rhythm, and his stubble rubbed against my skin.

  Wanting to get closer I grabbed at his chest, but there was no shirt to hold on to. His skin was warm and smooth under my fingertips. Curiously, I ran my thumbs over the barbells through his nipples.

  The restraint he was holding on to finally snapped.

&nb
sp; Groaning, he wrapped an arm around my waist and pushed us away from the house. His other hand landed on my ass as he picked me up. My legs automatically wrapped around him, and I whimpered when he sucked on my tongue.

  He slammed us up against the house again, his arm taking the brunt of the impact.

  “Shit,” he panted between frantic kisses. “Tell me if it’s too much. Do you want me to stop?”

  I was too worked up to answer. Needing friction, I shifted slightly, grinding my pelvis against his.

  He growled.

  “I’m serious, Mackenna. Fuck,” he whispered, moving his mouth down to my neck. “What are you doing to me?”

  “Kissing you?” It came out sounding like a question.

  “No.” He shook his head. “I’ve kissed girls. It never felt like this before.”

  “Violating you against the side of your grandma’s house?”

  He laughed against my collarbone. “That’s definitely a first for me.”

  Sliding his hand down my thigh, he released the hold he had on my body. Once my feet were back on solid ground, a wave of embarrassment hit me.

  I just attacked Jimmy in broad daylight. In his grandma’s yard. We had neighbors, and anyone could’ve gotten an eyeful. I bet the old lady gossip chain was going right now. Landlines all over town were probably occupied.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Jimmy said, pointing at my face. “You don’t get to regret what we just did.”

  I wanted to respond, but all I could think about was the way his lips felt against mine. He must have taken my silence as a bad thing.

  He frowned. “Do you, though? Regret it, I mean.”

  “No. I want to do it again,” I told him before reaching out to feel his chest.

  He jumped away. “Keep touching me like that and I’m gonna need a cold shower.”

  Getting an idea, I grinned and picked up the nearby garden hose.

  “I can help you out with that,” I said, squeezing the nozzle.

  A powerful jet of water shot out, spraying Jimmy’s stomach. The look of shock on his face was so hilarious, I couldn’t stop the giggles coming out of my mouth. Without saying a word, he stalked toward me.

  “Jimmy,” I warned through another fit of giggles. “I’ll spray you again.”

  He gave me an evil grin.

  I backed up until there was no length left on the hose, then I really let him have it. He didn’t even flinch as I soaked his skin and shorts.

  When he reached me, I let out a squeak and abandoned ship. Dropping the hose, I turned to run.

  “I don’t think so, baby.” Jimmy laughed as he hooked an arm around my waist. Pulling my back against his wet front, I felt a hard bulge against my lower back. He lowered his head until his mouth was right by my ear. “The cold shower didn’t work.”

  He pressed his lips to the side of my neck and I shivered.

  “What are the chances you aren’t going to retaliate with the hose?” I squirmed in his hold.

  “Zero,” he replied before spraying the top of my head.

  Screeching, I spun away from him. Then I realized my mistake when all it did was give him better access to spray me.

  The best solution I could come up with was to launch myself at him. He had no choice but to drop the hose and catch me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.

  We were both breathless and laughing as we stared at each other for several long seconds.

  I was still smiling when I brought my lips to his. This time, there was no hesitation to the kiss. Open-mouthed, tangling tongues. Hunger. Desperation. Passion.

  It was all-consuming, and the rest of the world fell away along with any concern I had about the neighbors watching. The magic of the moment chipped away at my self-consciousness, and in its place I gained a sense of freedom.

  I nipped at Jimmy’s bottom lip, then gave him one last peck. When we parted, our foreheads rested together and his fingers flexed on my thighs.

  “What are you doing to me?” he asked for the second time.

  I didn’t overthink my answer. “The same thing you’re doing to me?”

  He nodded, his nose rubbing against my cheek before he placed a kiss over my dimple. “I sure as hell hope so.”

  CHAPTER 19

  MACKENNA

  My phone vibrated with a text and I looked down into my lap to read it.

  Krista: Did you take any more pics of Hot Guy for me?

  Smiling at her across the table, I rolled my eyes.

  Me: No. Get your mind out of the gutter

  The gutter is exactly where my mind went when I thought about what happened earlier today.

  My first kiss with Jimmy. It was so different than anything I’d experienced before—so much better—that it almost felt like my first kiss ever.

  When I got home after painting, I barely recognized the girl looking back at me in the mirror. Bright eyes, flushed cheeks, and swollen lips.

  My body was covered in sage green smears and handprints left behind by Jimmy. I liked seeing the evidence of his hands on me. As I ran my fingers over the streaks on the side of my neck, I refused to think of the last time a man left his mark there. Because these marks were different. They were done with affection and gentleness. They were wanted.

  Another text interrupted my daydreaming.

  Krista: Are you staying the whole night?

  “No phones at the dinner table, girls,” my dad cut in before taking a sip of his iced tea.

  “Pookie started it,” I goaded, using the nickname I gave her when she was a little kid, which I knew for a fact she hated.

  She let out a huff before taking a bite of her steak.

  I changed her name in my phone to Pookie, then took a screen shot. Snickering, I sent it to her. Krista’s brown eyes glared at me.

  “Phones,” Dad reminded with a wave of his fork.

  “Ryan,” Mom said under her breath, shooting him a look. “Let the girls have their fun. It’s been a long time since Mackenna’s been home.”

  Reluctantly he agreed, and Krista and I went back to having text wars under the table.

  Me: Yep

  Pookie: Squeeeee!

  Me: What is that? Squeee??

  Pookie: It means I’m excited, Butt Face

  Me: Whatever you say, Pookie

  She sent an angry-looking emoji and I snorted.

  Pookie: Will you stay in my room tonight? Just like we used to?

  Since my parents moved to the new house, I’d only spent one night here. They had a simple guest room set up for me with a twin-size bed. Krista and I were probably too old for sleepovers but I had to admit that sleeping on her queen mattress sounded better, even if she did steal the covers.

  She was growing up too fast. The long light brown hair she used to tie into braids was now a shoulder-length bob. I still remembered the day she came home from the hospital, all tiny, pink, and bald. It was love at first sight. And when she got a little bigger, I used to carry her around and call her my sack of sugar.

  Me: As long as we can braid each other’s hair and talk about boys

  Pookie: Obviously

  After dinner, Krista went outside with Dad to water the garden and I helped Mom rinse off the dishes.

  She wasn’t going to take the news about Jaxon well.

  Part of me wanted to keep it from her because I didn’t want her to worry. But years ago, I made a promise to myself and to my family that I would never let someone like Jaxon keep me silent ever again.

  “Mom,” I started, passing her a plate. “Jaxon is out.”

  Startled, she dropped the plate and it landed in the dishwasher with a loud clatter.

  “What do you mean, he’s out? Out of jail?” she asked. Clearly horrified, her blue eyes held so much fear behind the
thick fringe of her dark bangs.

  Continuing to rinse out some cups, I nodded.

  “He left a note at my house. I reported it to the police but I’m not sure how much they can do about it.” I glanced over to find an expression of pure fear on her face. “I’m not telling you this to scare you. I just wanted to let you know. Communication is important—”

  “I’m glad you told me,” she cut in, placing her hand on my arm. “Really. Thank you for telling me.”

  “I want to be honest with you. I’m scared,” I admitted. “According to public records he’s been out for almost a month, and I didn’t even know it.”

  “Honey, if you want to move home you’re always welcome here.”

  “You know I have the means to protect myself,” I told her, referring to the gun I owned. Then I added, “And I have nice neighbors. Maybe I could even get a dog.”

  The gun wasn’t the only defense on my side—and I didn’t mean Jimmy either. While it was nice to have a big, strong guy looking out for me, I was capable of taking on an attacker. Not only was I trained in self-defense, but I’d also spent a lot of time practicing at the shooting range down in Tennessee.

  Three years ago, I couldn’t hit a bullseye from five feet away. That wasn’t true anymore.

  “We knew this was going to happen someday. It’s a little sooner than I expected, but I’ll be okay.” Handing my mom another plate, I gave her a reassuring smile.

  She smiled back. “Something’s different.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know what’s changed, but it’s something. You just seem… alive,” she tried to explain.

  “I am alive,” I said defensively.

  “I know.” She sounded choked up, and I suspected she was about to cry. “Years ago, I lost my little girl. I don’t mean you simply grew up—I mean, something in you stopped existing when you dated that boy. You used to smile all the time. You loved life. And that all stopped when…”

  Before she could get too emotional, I hugged her. “Mom, I’m still here.”

  “You haven’t been the same since then,” she whispered shakily. “But something is different today. You look happy. I don’t know the reason for it, but whatever it is, I’m thankful.”