“We can do better than that, Friend.” He stood abruptly, abandoning her.
“NO! FUCK, Carter!” She couldn’t believe it. She was on the brink and just like that, it was gone. Kensie realized the angry purple bruise forming between her legs was only the beginning.
She glared at him as he stood over her, slowly unzipping his jeans. His blue eyes dark and stormy as he freed himself from the restrictive clothing. Their eyes met as the corner of his mouth pulled into a wolfish grin. He stroked his shaft leisurely, like he hadn’t a care in the world, as if she wasn’t a quivering mess lying half off the bed.
“Carter,” she gritted.
“Yes, Friend?”
“If you don’t finish what you started, I’ll do it myself.”
“Are you asking me to invade your personal space?” His brow quirked.
She hated this man.
She hated him, but lying there, body aching with need, watching him pleasure himself, drove her insane with desire. She knew what he wanted. “Fuck me.”
“With pleasure,” he growled, pushing her further back onto the bed. He stilled, hovering above her, searching her eyes. “Condom?”
“No, I want to feel every inch of you.” In for a penny, in for a pound.
He grinned an, I’ve got you exactly where I want you, grin as he settled between her legs. He lifted one around his neck and slid into her wet folds with ease. His movements were slow and controlled. He was torturing her.
Kensie dug her nails into his shoulders, grinding into him, pushing him deeper. Two could play this game. “Make me scream. Make me scream so loud that it wakes them up, that it wakes up the entire building. Fuck me.”
She could feel the smile against her cheek. She wasn’t sure if she’d won or if he had. She didn’t care. The only thing she cared about in that moment was how his hands felt around her wrists as he pinned her arms above her head. She cared about how each stroke pushed her back towards the Promised Land. The world was slipping away. Her head was spinning. She didn’t know which way was up and which way was down. The pressure built inside of her like a time bomb, waiting to explode.
A garbled moan slipped through her lips as he swiveled his hips into her, pushing himself deeper than she thought possible. Her voice was unrecognizable, her words incoherent. She was no longer in control of her body, she was lost in sensation. Moaning and yelling and screaming, all nonsense. There was only one intelligible sound that escaped her throat that night.
One word.
One name.
Carter had promised to ruin her and he made good on his word.
Kensie stared at her iPhone, willing it to ring. It had been two weeks and she still hadn’t heard a peep. Not one single word. Her sanity slipped further and further away with each passing second. “Ring,” she growled at the phone, hoping intimidation would work in her favor.
Knuckles rapped on the bathroom door in quick succession. “You okay in there?” Trey called from the other side. Kensie jumped at the sound of his voice, and her phone flew through the air, crash-landing on the marble countertop.
“I’m fine,” she said, cursing under her breath. “I’ll be out in a minute.” Her shoulders sagged in defeat as she inspected her phone for damage. Thankfully, it was fine. Her nerves couldn’t handle both rejection and a cracked screen.
“It’s a quarter after, you’re going to be late—again.”
“Just finishing my makeup.” It wasn’t a total lie. She had been doing her makeup. She was doing her best to act normal. She was trying. Not anymore though, now she was sitting on the toilet manically bouncing her leg up and down, willing her phone to do something, anything. “Please ring, please.”
A few more seconds of deafening silence passed, and she sighed, resigning herself to her fate. She needed to finish getting ready for work. She was being unreasonable; two weeks wasn’t that long. Standing, she straightened the plush white robe embroidered with the letters TMK across the chest and finished getting ready for work.
Picking up her mascara, Kensie applied a light coat to her top and bottom lashes. Next, she reached for her blush, absently swirling the brush into the rose powder. It took every ounce of willpower she had not to pick up the phone, but she refused to let this ruin her day. She’d give it until Monday, then she’d take matters into her own hands.
Just as she began to make peace with the situation, the dark screen glowed to life. She sent up a silent prayer before checking the notification. Her heart sank. It wasn’t the email or phone call she’d been waiting for. Instead, it was a text message. Huffing in annoyance, she snatched the phone off the sink.
Peter Pan: Hear anything yet?
Kensie: Nope, nada. They are never going to call, and I will be Rachel Winston’s bitch for the rest of my life.
Peter Pan: You’re being dramatic. Two weeks isn’t an unreasonable amount of time to hear back for an interview.
Peter Pan: What are you doing tonight?
Kensie: Offering my blood to the interview gods.
Peter Pan: I think they only accept virgin blood, and well…
Kensie: Fuck you.
Peter Pan: I’m TRYING!!!!
Kensie: I don’t know. I’ll have to see.
Peter Pan: Come on, Kensington. He’s had you for the last two weeks. It’s my turn.
She sneered at the phone, “Pig.”
They’d had a similar version of the same conversation every day since their X-rated night. He’d text her asking if she heard back from Save Haven—she’d say no. He’d ask if he could see her again—she’d say no.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him. If she wasn’t busy obsessing over Save Haven, she was fantasizing about the things he could make her feel, about the ways in which he would push her body to new heights. It was just that her boyfriend needed her too. Trey was her priority.
“What’s the holdup, babe?” Trey asked, poking his head into the bathroom.
“Sorry, I got distracted,” she explained, quickly closing the message app and tapping on the Daily Mail icon. She held the phone towards him, showing him the scathing headline of the day. “Actress busted for DUI.”
Trey shook his head incredulously. “Whatever. I’m going to make some coffee.”
Once he was out of sight, she tapped back into her messages and deleted the texts from Carter. Trey wasn’t the type to snoop, but she deleted the forbidden messages anyway. Better safe than sorry.
With hair and makeup complete, Kensie slipped back into the bedroom. Trey’s apartment wasn’t a typical bachelor pad, but it was painfully impersonal, as if he’d bought the place furnished and never bothered changing a thing. After moving in, she’d need to inject some life into the space, make it feel like a home.
The coffee pot gurgled as Kensington entered the kitchen. The smell made her mouth water. Trey leaned against the kitchen island reading the Seattle Times. The sight of him also made her mouth water. The man did things to a suit that should be illegal. She couldn’t help but stare. “Ah, there she is.” He smiled, returning her heated gaze.
Kensie blushed, smoothing down the sides of her baby-pink shift dress. Even after everything they’d been through, he still gave her butterflies. “That smells amazing.” She nodded towards the coffee pot.
“I picked up some of those beans you like from Fronte.”
“Ugh, I love you,” she moaned, throwing her head back in ecstasy. She didn’t just like them; they were her favorite. The coffee those beans produced could bring about world peace.
Trey chuckled, setting the newspaper aside and pulled her into him. “That’s the reaction I was looking for. How’s the alcoholic starlet?”
“Heading to rehab.” She smirked, lifting up on her tiptoes to give him a swift kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Thank you for the coffee.”
“Anything for you, Kenny. What would you like for breakfast?” he asked, leaning in for another kiss.
“What are you having?”
“Bagel.” Trey kissed
her again, then walked toward the fridge. She watched as he pulled out a small container of cream cheese, two bottles of water, and cream for the coffee.
“Too many carbs.”
“Umm, let’s see. How about Greek yogurt?”
She scrunched her nose but held out her hand, taking it anyway.
“Kensie?” Trey called, grabbing her a spoon from the drawer.
“Hmm?” she hummed, refreshing her email browser once more. She’d officially gone off the deep end, but she didn’t care. Patience was never her strong suit. She didn’t consider herself a brat, not in the usual sense—never rude or ungrateful—she was just accustomed to getting what she wanted when she wanted it. Even her job at Creative Marketing Corp was waiting for her as soon as she’d graduated. This entire process was new to her. It unnerved her, made her feel uncomfortable, anxious, excited. It’s how she knew she was making the right choice. How she knew she was finally living.
“Earth to Kensington?” She checked to make sure she had service and then her Wi-Fi connection. She was so preoccupied with her phone that she didn’t realize Trey was beside her until she felt it slip from her grasp. “What has you so distracted?” he asked, staring down at the screen.
“Nothing,” she grumbled, dipping her spoon into the yogurt.
“Kenny, baby, tell me, what’s going on? Is it something I did? This morning is the most affection you’ve shown me in two weeks, and even that was because I got your coffee. Are you still punishing me for that dinner with your parents?”
“No, baby, you’re fine. We’re fine. I’m just stressed.”
“What could possibly have you so stressed? And what’s with the phone thing?” he asked, holding it up. She noticed there was a red number one over the email icon. It felt like there was a jackhammer in her chest. It took every ounce of self-control she had to resist the urge to snatch the phone from his hand.
She hadn’t told him about sending Safe Haven her résumé. She hadn’t told anyone; not her parents, not Beth, not even Jam. Carter was the only person in the world who knew. “I’ve got to tell you something, but I don’t want you to freak out, okay?”
“Okay.” Trey eyed her cautiously.
“Seriously, promise you won’t get mad.”
“Ken, what the fuck is going on? You’re scaring me.”
“I sent my résumé to Safe Haven.”
Trey sighed, relief washing over his face. “Jesus Christ, Kensington, that’s it? That’s why you’ve been so secretive? So distant?”
“I know you don’t want me to leave CMC and that you think this whole thing is a disaster waiting to happen, but I really want this. Are you mad at me?”
“No, baby,” he chuckled, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “I mean, I think it’s a terrible idea, but if it’s important to you, I’ll support it. Besides, it doesn’t matter where you work, you’ll be home full-time soon enough anyway.”
She stilled, unsure how to process his words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I just mean when we get married, or if you’d like to wait until you’re pregnant, that’s fine too.”
“Let me just get moved in first, okay?” Now it was her turn not to freak out.
“And when do you think that will be?” he asked, setting her phone down. He picked up his bagel and took a bite. He was eating his breakfast like everything was fine, as if they’d been talking about more Daily Mail nonsense and not the stay-at-home-mom-sized bomb he’d just dropped on her. She could barely breathe, and he was fucking eating.
She counted to five before answering, “In September.”
“Why wait? You can start bringing your stuff over now.”
“Why rush? I’ve already agreed to move in. Let me enjoy the rest of the time I have with Jam before I’m barefoot, pregnant, and trapped in this kitchen for the rest of my life.”
“You say it like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not a bad thing, it’s just not a Kensie thing, which is something you would know had you ever bothered asking.”
“You’re being melodramatic,” he dismissed, taking another bite of his bagel.
“ME?!” she squealed, throwing her spoon down. She didn’t want the damn yogurt anyway. She pushed away from the breakfast bar with so much force the stool nearly toppled over. “You always do this. You get to decide everything. I was okay with it when the decisions involved where to eat or what to wear or what movie to see, but now you’re making these huge, life-altering choices and you don’t even bother asking me what I want.”
“I’m ambushing you again, aren’t I?” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Yeah,” she snarked, going to the coffee pot. She grabbed two travel mugs from the cabinet and quickly filled each with coffee, then added cream and sugar to his, leaving hers black. Her mind ran a million miles a minute as she screwed the lids onto the mugs. She sensed him behind her. His big hands landed gently on her shoulders.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight. I feel like we’ve been at each other’s throats since I got back from Vegas. I just want things to get back to normal. Have dinner with me tonight.”
Kensie remained silent. Her answer would start another fight.
Trey’s palms glided down her ribcage, his mouth hung just above her ear. “I’ll take you anywhere you want, your choice.”
“I made plans with Jam.”
Lie.
“Cancel them,” he whispered, planting a soft kiss on her neck.
“I can’t just cancel on her.”
Lie.
“She’ll understand.” He licked the shell of her ear, doing his best to change her mind. His fingers slid up her dress and inside her panties.
He was her boyfriend. It shouldn’t have felt wrong—but it did. It shouldn’t have felt like a betrayal to Carter—but it did. “I want to spend as much time with her as I can before I officially move out,” she lied. “We can have dinner anytime.”
Trey withdrew his hand from her underwear. He yanked his mug off the counter, and stormed out of the kitchen without another word, leaving her alone with her favorite coffee beans and mouth full of lies.
The next eight hours blew by in a haze. Between obsessing over her fight with Trey and obsessing over Safe Haven, Kensie barely got any work done. She tried calling to apologize, but he’d sent her straight to voicemail. Trey was right, all they did anymore was fight.
Was she subconsciously picking fights with him to assuage her guilt about spending time with Carter? Was she really that terrible of a person or was it simply that the honeymoon stage was over? Could it be the differences between her and Trey were becoming too much to ignore?
“Okay, what gives? You’ve been like a zombie all day,” Beth asked.
Kensie glanced up at her friend’s concerned face. “Sorry, I just have a lot going on. I can’t decide if I need coffee, wine, or sleep,” she confessed.
“Well,” Beth said, throwing her coffee cup in the trash, “it’s Friday and the wicked witch has vacated the premises, so I vote wine. You want to go grab a drink?”
Kensie shook her head and refreshed her email browser. “Raincheck. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be very good company.”
“Suit yourself, Debbie Downer,” Beth teased, gathering her things. “If you change your mind or if you just want to talk, call me.”
“I promise.”
“Have a good weekend.”
“You too. See ya Monday,” Kensie said, and turned her attention back to the computer screen. Three new messages. The first one was spam, which she promptly deleted. The second, was a message from her stylist looking to change the time of her next appointment; she replied in agreement. The last, and most surprising, was from Trey’s brother’s fiancée, Reagan.
Outside of the fact that they were dating brothers, Kensie and Reagan weren’t very close. It wasn’t as though she disliked her; in fact, quite the opposite. What she did know about Reagan was great, it was just that they hadn’t had mu
ch time to get to know each other. The only real time they’d ever spent together was during their Memorial Day trip to Napa, but even then most of the conversation revolved around wedding plans.
Kensie clicked on the message, an invitation for Liam’s birthday party. She and Trey couldn’t seem to go five minutes without arguing these days, so she wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of spending a day with his family, yet she RSVP’d yes, and hoped like hell she and Trey were on speaking terms by next week.
Kensie shut down her computer and snagged her purse from the bottom drawer. She was halfway to the parking lot when her cell phone rang. Her anxiety bubbled into her throat as she looked at the display, a Seattle area code, but she didn’t recognize the phone number.
“Hello?” she asked tentatively.
“Hi! May I speak with Kensington Roth?” a man’s voice asked on the other end, and children could be heard playing in the background.
“This is she.”
“Hi, Kensington, this is Tanner, Resident Director at Safe Haven. We received your résumé and were wondering if you’d like to come in next week to interview for the residential aide position?”
Kensie’s steps faltered. Her voice shook. “I would love to.”
“Great. I’ll email you the details. See you then.”
“See you then.” She grinned, ending the call. Excitement jolted through her body, as she jumped and squealed as if they’d offered her a job. It was just an interview, one she could very well still blow come next week, but it was a step in the right direction; a baby step, but at this point, she’d take what she could get.
There was only one person she wanted to share the news with. She just wasn’t sure how he would react. She dialed the familiar number and he answered on the first ring. “Hello.”
“Daddy?”
“Hey, baby girl. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Can’t I just call to say hello to my dear old dad?”
“You could…” Sarcasm dripped from his tone.
“How would you feel if I quit Creative Marketing Corp?”
“Quit? I thought you loved it there?”
Lithium Tides: A Lithium Springs Novel Page 8