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Grit And Grind (Dirty South Book 1)

Page 8

by Kat Addams


  Chris stood, mesmerized by her as the natural light from the skylight above shone down on her like something out of a science fiction novel. He reached behind himself to steady himself on a wall. He could watch her here all day.

  It had been a long time since a woman was in his home. Too long. He hoped it wasn’t too cold and sterile for Klara. All the whites and sleek edges.

  Marcy had hired the designer when he bought the place two years back. His only request was she not go all HGTV farmhouse on him. If that happened, then he would put her in his next novel as a bug-eyed, wrinkled-up, old prune nobody wanted to fuck. She’d teased him by hanging a picture of a cow that first week, but he had known she would eventually come through. She always did. His home was now a work of art. He was very proud of it even if no one really ever got to see it.

  “Thanks. I can’t take credit for it. Marcy did that. Well, she hired someone to make it nice and keep it nice anyway. I’m not here much to enjoy it, unfortunately.”

  “I would never leave here if I were you, Chris. I mean, who the hell has this view?” she said as she made her way to the patio.

  The surf was rough today and could be heard echoing throughout the house. He followed her out the door, grinning like an idiot behind her. He was so happy that she liked it. It really didn’t appear as cold and lonely with Klara in it. She warmed everything up. It was almost as if the sunlight followed her around each room or that she was the sunlight.

  “The view is what sold me. There’s something about being here with a cup of coffee, watching the sunrise, or a glass of wine, watching the sunset, that inspires me to bring out my laptop and just write.”

  “You’re living the dream,” she said, her eyes still wide and awestruck.

  Chris started but held back, putting his hands in his pockets instead. He was living the dream, but it was a lonely dream. He hadn’t known just how lonely he was until he met Klara.

  Limerence.

  “Come on. Let me show you to your room.”

  “I get my own room?” she said as giddy as a schoolgirl.

  “Only if you want it,” he replied. He hoped she didn’t want her own room.

  “What are my options?”

  “Well, let’s see. We have three guest rooms, my room, the pool house, and several couches.”

  “I think I’ll need the grand tour before I can decide,” she said innocently.

  He played along, saving his bedroom until last. He knew by her reaction to just the downstairs that his room would blow her mind. It still blew his each time he walked through those doors to the master bedroom. His chamber, as he liked to call it. Not a sex chamber, unfortunately. Not yet anyway.

  Chris showed Klara around his home. He made sure to point out the coffeemaker because he knew she was an addict, just like he was. He pointed out the wet bar because, well, same. The beds, she tested by sitting on each one and describing them as just not comfy enough. An innocent twirl of her hair around her finger and then a puppy-dog pout. Chris was beginning to realize he really liked being teased.

  “Okay, Goldilocks. Ready to try the last bed?”

  “Ready!” She grinned.

  They made their way to the last room, shut by double doors and nestled at the end of a very long hall.

  “After you, my lady.” Chris bowed, opening the door and letting her through.

  She had never seen anything like it. Well, she had, but that was in the bullshit Real Housewives drama series. Not in real life. Not in her life anyway. The entire back wall was covered in windows that opened to its own private patio overlooking the ocean. Chris grabbed the remote beside the bed and opened them all. The sea breeze blew in, tangling the white linen that hung from his four-poster bed.

  “I pick this one,” she whispered, dazed as she gazed at the ocean.

  He came up behind her, taking her hair in his hand and moving it to the front of her shoulders so that he could kiss the back of her neck.

  “I was hoping you’d say that,” he said as he picked her up and threw her on the soft feather bed.

  Klara squealed as he climbed on top of her, taking one of her legs at a time and gently removing her heels.

  “You look right at home in this bed, Goldilocks. Tell me, do you like it hot? Do you like it wet? Do you like it just right?” Chris ran his thumb up and down her pussy. Her legs still thrown messily over his shoulders.

  “I like it hot. I like it wet. And your cock in my mouth right now would be just right.”

  “Fuck!” he said, caught off guard. “You’re really learning some things, I see. Maybe I’m a bad influence.”

  “So fucking bad,” she said, throwing her legs out to the sides and spreading herself wide. Her dress hiked up over her hips, her hand reaching down to tease herself.

  “How about you straddle my face and show me how bad you can be?” he said, hurriedly settling in beside her and already unzipping himself. His cock stood, ready and dripping.

  “I thought you’d never ask.” Klara pulled her panties off and turned around, nestling herself snug on top of his mouth while leaning down to take him in her mouth at the same time. Her tongue ran the length of him as she slowly teased him.

  He pulled her back further and buried his face in between her thighs, sending shivers up her spine. His hands gripped tightly on her ass, leaving little pink fingerprints. Klara lost focus, stopping what she was doing and gripping the bedsheets to steady herself.

  “Naughty girl. Focus on my cock while I focus on this gorgeous pussy of yours,” he said, slapping her ass hard.

  She giggled and went back to work, gasping in between breaths and close to giving in to the waves overtaking her. Chris lightly ran his fingertips up and down her back while his tongue flicked back and forth across her. His hips rose as he pulled her deeper onto him. He was pulsing, about to lose himself. The warm, silky feel of her tongue twirling around the tip of him was too much to handle. He thrust his hips into her mouth and held on to her thighs, now shaking and on the verge of collapse. Both cried out through full mouths, hanging on to each other tight as their bodies released control.

  Klara rolled off to his side, spent and dazed from where she was, what she was doing, who she was doing. Her fingers reached out to touch the softly swaying hanging linens. The cool breeze washing over her, too. Is this a dream? Surely, this is a dream. She sat up in bed, listening to the waves crash and imagining them in sync with the waves inside her.

  Chris jumped out of the bed and quickly sat back down. Head rush. Klara had completely frazzled all of his senses. The way her soft lips had enclosed around him, taking every inch of him into her mouth. The way her sweet folds tasted on his tongue. The way her body shook as she got closer and closer to giving in to him. That little moment right before, where she’d held her breath and then let it all out in one loud cry. That was his favorite. He played that on repeat in his head all the damn time.

  He kissed her forehead and disappeared for a quick second to grab some robes. The euphoric look on her face, making him brave or stupid. But that look … that look wasn’t just an after-sex face. He had observed too many people to know. That look was pure bliss. Sing-from-the-rooftops, fight-for-your-lover, wild, reckless limerence? They hadn’t even known each other long, but whatever this was they were doing, it just seemed so right. Maybe it was the dopamine, maybe it was the fresh air, or maybe it was just Klara. But he had another proposal, and if this one didn’t work out, it was going to make for one awkward weekend.

  “Come on,” he said, holding out his hand to help her up.

  Still silent but all smiles, she grabbed his hand. Chris held a robe out for her and led her past the glass doors and outside to the patio. Klara’s knees were still shaking enough that she had to grip Chris’s hand hard so as not to fall over. She was still in disbelief that she was in Christopher Kaiser’s house, that she’d just sucked Christopher Kaiser off, and that Christopher Kaiser was actually falling for her. She could totally see it in his eyes, in
the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. She did the same to him.

  Does he know, too, then? That I’m in love? At least, she was pretty damn sure she was in love.

  “What would you like to drink? Water? Coffee? Champagne?” he offered.

  “Champagne? It’s the middle of the day!”

  “Oh, you can’t tell me you haven’t ever tried day-drinking before!”

  “I don’t know where you would ever get that idea! I’m totally innocent,” she said playfully.

  “Champagne it is then, dahling!”

  Klara’s eyes followed him as he crossed the patio and disappeared through a different door.

  Is there anything Chris can’t do? Anything Chris doesn’t have? The house. The career. The charisma. The bedroom skills. The sense of humor that almost … almost rivals my own. He was amazing, and she planned on telling him just how amazing he was. After she had a few drinks. Maybe.

  “Bubbly for the princess!” he said, handing her a shiny glass of liquid gold and holding his own up for her, waiting. “I want to toast to you, Klara.”

  “Me? For what?”

  “You’ve grown leaps and bounds just in this short week I’ve known you. You gave up the strict schedules, and now, look at you. You’re on a beach, sipping champagne, in the middle of the day, and you’re nearing the halfway mark in your novel. I’m damn impressed.”

  Klara blushed. She was never one to be the best at receiving compliments. Not these types of compliments. Sure, people would tell her they liked her dress, her perfume, or her whatever it was that was just practical. Never had anyone said they were impressed by her. Never.

  “It’s all you, Chris. You have been an amazing instructor. Not only that, but you’ve also been my muse. I’ve learned a lot this week. In all the ways.”

  Limerence.

  He was going to have to tell her. He knew she was falling, and he wanted to let her know it was okay. It wasn’t the big, scary L-word. It couldn’t be. They hadn’t even known each other long. He wanted to make her his. The limerence, like a drug. She was a drug. He didn’t want to stop.

  Can we really do this? Would she even want to?

  He poured them more champagne, took a big gulp, and let it all out. “Klara?”

  “Yeah?” she said, looking at him like something was wrong. She knew this face, she knew that quiet voice, she knew that familiar dread settling in around her.

  “I have so enjoyed this week with you. A lot. Probably more than is acceptable and maybe borderline creepy.”

  “I have, too, and I feel the same. You’re good for me. Every bit of me.”

  “Yes, you’re my muse as well. You’ve sparked my mind. You’ve sparked my body. You’ve sparked my soul.”

  This was going a lot better than Klara had thought it would. Maybe he was about to say the L-word.

  Oh, she hoped he was, so she could breathe a sigh of relief. Should I say it back? Should I wait? Should I say I thought I loved him, too? Is it the day-drinking getting to me? Is this even real?

  “Thank you, Chris. That’s very sweet of you to say. You’ve definitely set me ablaze as well.”

  “I think there is a better name for what we have. It’s like chemistry but better. Have you heard of limerence?”

  What the fuck? Klara’s voice caught in her throat. “I know what limerence is.” It’s not fucking love; that’s what it is.

  “I think that is what I’m feeling. I’m crazy about you. Do you feel it, too?”

  “Yes,” she lied. No, it wasn’t limerence for her. She really did love Chris, but now, she knew where he stood on those feelings for her. She had been so silly, believing, wishing, dreaming that all of this could work. That all of this was anything other than limerence. What bullshit.

  “I was hoping we could continue down this path, embrace it, and see where it goes.”

  And, now, he was feeding her hope. Limerence and hope.

  Do I really have time for this?

  He could probably read the emotions on her face, but she had enough champagne to not care anymore.

  “What do you mean, continue down this path? See where it goes?”

  “I mean, I don’t want to give you up next week. I want to keep this up. You’re good for me, and you just said I was good for you, too. I think we should date. Keep in touch and all. I’m completely obsessed, infatuated, and limerence-stricken with you.”

  Klara didn’t know why he kept repeating that word. Is he trying to reassure himself? Or is he trying to reassure me?

  “I don’t know how this would work long-distance, Chris. I mean, how often would we really be able to see each other?”

  “I can swing by to spend some days in between travels, and you can always, always come here. If things are going really well for us, we can work it out,” he said, putting down his glass. “What do you say?”

  She bit her lip, unable to think from a combination of his gorgeous body crawling on top of her and the champagne bubbles tingling her brain.

  “Are you asking me to date you exclusively, as in become a couple, or am I just a side piece for your fun between travels?”

  “You really are stubborn, aren’t you? I don’t want you giving up on Farmer John, but yes, I would love to date you properly. Now, I know it will be tough, being in another state, but maybe it will give us just the right amount of coupledom while we can still focus on career choices. How does that sound?”

  “Well, if we are to become a couple, we’ll have to come up with one of those couple names,” Klara said, melting into him.

  His body on top of her, he quickly undid the ties of her robe and his. This was what she wanted. She wanted to be with him. She loved him. Not this limerence bullshit. Real love. She knew it because she wanted him to be happy even if it broke her heart.

  “Klaris? Chrisara? The unstoppable duo?” he teased in between kissing her.

  “Those are terrible.”

  “Yeah, we have time to come up with it. All the time.”

  “Let’s do it,” she agreed.

  If it wasn’t love now, maybe, with more time, it would be for him. He was good for her. If anything, he was right about long-distance leaving them time to fulfill their own goals. She could use this whirlwind romance to make progress in her own life even if it tore her apart in the end. It would be worth it. He would be worth it. He’d better be worth it.

  Chris didn’t know if it was the sea breeze, the champagne, or Klara that was making him crazy. Probably a combo of all three. But, damn, he was in a state of bliss. He had a beautiful woman in his house, a woman who had all the giddy emotions for him as he did her. A smart woman. A funny woman. A kind woman. An extraordinary blow-your-socks-off kind of woman. A woman he could count on to stand by him, and he’d do the same for her.

  A muse. A wife.

  Wait, what? Limerence. Limerence. Limerence.

  seven

  Chris’s parents were out of the country on vacation and needed his help with tying up some loose ends around the now-extinct family business. Even when the work stopped, it never stopped with his dad. The man was every bit of a business professional. Always dressed in a suit and tie, always extremely proper, almost military-like in his demeanor. He could sell a bucket of fire to clients roasting in hell. His brain and his work never stopped. Not even after retirement. His mom, much the same. But Chris? Chris hadn’t inherited the corporate gene. Much to his parents’ dismay, he would rather have his head in a book than in a conference call.

  But that didn’t stop Chris from being dragged into some of the family investments, which he was extremely grateful for. Writing hadn’t exactly paid the bills up until recently. He was fortunate to have, well, a fortune. So, when his parents had called and needed his help, he was more than happy to give it to them. They’d steered him in the right direction in life even if they didn’t fully support the path he ultimately chose. Besides, he had Marcy supporting his goals, and she had been around much more of
ten than his parents.

  Marcy … shit! he thought.

  He had forgotten that Marcy had a key to his house, and sometimes, she used it on the weekends to “cure writer’s block” when she knew he would be away. Chris hadn’t even thought about Marcy. He was too busy thinking about the feel of Klara’s nipples under his fingertips, the sexy little freckle right where her right thigh met her hip bone. His morning had been completely consumed with thoughts of her.

  Chris checked his watch. He had been in his dad’s office all morning, cleaning up old business accounts, handling documents, and organizing financials for their investments. Maybe Marcy wouldn’t show up this weekend. But, with his luck, he thought he should call to check in and casually mention he would be in town this weekend.

  “Marcy, hey! How are you?”

  “Chris! I’m doing good. Really good now that I’ve met your girlfriend.”

  “My what?”

  “Klara! And let me tell you, Chris, she is a doll! We’ve been trading stories back and forth this morning. Enjoying some girl time by the waves.”

  Chris’s voice stuttered, “What kind of stories?”

  “Oh, you know. The kind that embarrass you. Like the time you pooped the tub as a baby, the time you passed out during the school play, the time you—”

  “Marcy!” Chris was already in his car and on his way home by the time she’d said she was trading stories.

  “I’m kidding! I’m kidding! Chris, it’s just me here right now. Klara went in to get us some snacks. Thank the good Lord I’d stocked your fridge! She looks as tiny as a toothpick. She needs a bagel or something! Take her out somewhere fancy tonight. Feed that poor child!”

  “She’s not starving, and damn, don’t scare me like that! I’m not trying to have her running for the hills.”

  “What’s that mean? You like her? Really, really like her? Didn’t you two just meet up in Memphis? She did say y’all discussed dating long-distance, but she didn’t mention anything else about it after that.”

  “She did?” Chris was curious.

  He guessed he could be an adult and just ask, but what if that was a bad idea? What if she has no hope for long-distance? He kind of thought that was the truth anyway. He’d sensed her caution when he mentioned making it work. He at least thought he could make it work. I’ll do my best to make it work, damn it. He wasn’t ready to come down off this ride yet. He already had plans to write about their experiences in his next book. Not everything, of course. He’d like some of their secrets to remain his.

 

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