My Kinda Song

by Lacey Black

  This kiss isn’t slow or sweet. This kiss is consuming and controlling. His tongue possesses, his lips dominate me. And that’s not even including his hands. They slide firmly against my back, down until he’s gripping my rear. In one smooth motion, he picks me up, my legs wrapping around his waist. I can feel his erection through his shorts as it presses against the place I ache for him.

  “Trust me?” he rasps, kissing his way down my throat.

  “Y-yes.” I do.

  “I want to take you from behind, beautiful,” he says, setting me down and helping guide me until I’m facing the cabinets.

  Then his hands are on me, gripping and touching me in a way that leaves me so hot and bothered, I’m afraid I might actually die from lust. My shorts and shirt are gone, my panties a distant memory as I brace my hands against the countertop. His very talented hands slide easily over my body until he finds me embarrassingly wet and swollen. I mean, we’re talking water left on, I can feel it sliding down my thighs kinda wet.

  “God, I love your body,” he whispers harshly against my ear moments before I feel the slide of his piercing between my butt cheeks. Just the thought of him being so close to my ain’t gonna happen area, especially with something as gigantic as his monstrous penis, should leave me clenching and tense. But it doesn’t. The feel of that little ball slipping through the wetness and teasing my rear entrance causes my heart to race and my nipples to pebble more.

  “Not today, angel. Maybe someday I’ll claim that part of you too, but not today,” he breathes against my ear as he slides into my trembling pussy.

  “Oh God,” I whisper, my body as taut and pulsing as a live electric wire.

  I feel everything with him. The piercing, the way his body moves inside me, making me feel so full and complete. And then he wraps his hands around mine, entwining our fingers together, and places them back on the countertop. He uses them as leverage and starts to pump his hips, determined and full of raw desire. I cry out in euphoria every time those little balls slide against my G-spot.

  Holy mother of God and all things almighty.

  “I can feel you clenching around my cock, Abs. Feels so fucking good,” he mumbles, pistoning his hips again and again.

  My reply comes out a jumbled, mumbled, choppy sentence of sounds. I start to clench around him, squeezing the life out of his penis. (My vagina is such a hussy.) Before I realize it, I’m practically screaming out a release. Nope, no clue what words are actually coming from my mouth right now.

  Levi’s right behind me (no pun intended) and slams into me with enough force to almost send me crashing into the countertop. But he holds me hostage (in the best way possible), my name falling from his lips before he stills inside of me. I can feel him pulsing and coming, my inner walls milking him for all he’s worth.

  “Jesus,” he groans, bringing his mouth to my shoulder and biting gently. The sharp sting causes me to shudder.

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah,” he says, kissing the place that he just marked with his teeth. “I’m just glad I was still able to get it up.”

  “What?” I ask with a small laugh, turning and looking over my shoulder at his flushed and slightly sweaty face.

  “I’m just glad your dad’s arrival didn’t kill the fantasy.” Again, he kisses my shoulder and the back of my neck, moving my hair across my other shoulder and exposing more skin as he goes.

  “I’m glad too. It would have been a shame if we never got to experience that. In my kitchen.”

  “Your kitchen may be my new favorite place. It’s a great kitchen.”

  “It is,” I say, breathlessly, as he continues to kiss my neck, his hands wrapping around my abdomen. That’s also when I notice he’s still rock hard inside of me and moving very slowly.

  “One more before I go to work? It’s going to be a long, miserable night without you.”

  “What about dinner?” I ask diplomatically, but praying he doesn’t stop.

  “Dinner can wait, but having you one more time before work, can’t.”

  And then he starts to move.

  And administers no less than two more orgasms.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Levi

  By the time I can steal more alone time with Abby, it’s Thursday night. A bout with food poisoning at the ambulance headquarters took half the crew out of commission for three days. Thank fuck I’m not a fan of shrimp dip, otherwise I would have been praying to the porcelain God, screaming from both ends, like the rest of those sorry suckers.

  I sent a quick text message this afternoon to Abs, letting her know we’re going for Chinese tonight. I’ve been craving teriyaki chicken and fried rice like no one’s business, and I figured this was the best way to kill two birds with one stone. Food and a little alone time with my girl.

  Hopefully some naked time later too.

  Even in my exhausted state, I can manage to get naked with Abby between the sheets. Or in the kitchen again. Maybe bent over the couch? Whatever.

  I grab my computer and fire up the dating app. I’ve felt like the equivalent of dog shit all week while working, texting Abby one minute as Levi and messaging her through the dating site the next as SimpleMan. This shit has got to come to an end soon, or I’m liable to get myself caught in something I can’t sweet talk my way out of.

  The longer the guise goes on, the harder it’s going to be to come clean. Yeah, yeah, I should have done it weeks ago when the opportunity kept presenting itself to me, but I’m a big fucking chicken, all right? I don’t want to hurt her, nor piss her off, and I’m afraid I’d be doing both when I tell her.

  See? Fucking chicken.

  I hover the mouse over her picture, that one that gets my heart racing and my blood pumping to one concentrated area in my pants. And because I’m a glutton for punishment, I click on the image and bring up her newest message.

  AngelEyes: What’s for dinner tonight?

  SimpleMan: Chinese. I’m starving, angel.

  The bubbles appear and then disappear, as if she was typing but then stopped. I wait for several minutes, yawning loudly as I get comfortable on my couch, until I see another message pop up.

  AngelEyes: Busy day at work?

  SimpleMan: The busiest. I’m exhausted.

  AngelEyes: Maybe you should order in and crash early tonight?

  SimpleMan: I would but I’m taking my girl to dinner. She’s the best part of my day.

  AngelEyes: *smiley face* Good for you, Simple. I’m off to get ready for dinner.

  SimpleMan: Bye, Angel. Have fun.

  AngelEyes: Bye.

  Even if it’s only four, my eyes are fighting to stay open. I’ve got two hours before I have to grab Abby and take her to dinner, so I set my laptop down on the coffee table and close my eyes. A two-hour nap is just what the doctor ordered.

  * * *

  When I open my eyes, it’s because my phone chimed with an alert. Reaching blindly into my holster, I pull it out to find two text messages from Abby.

  Abby: Still on for tonight?

  Abby: Everything okay?

  The first messages came at 6:10, while the second just moments ago. Shit! I’m late for picking up Abby for dinner. Jumping up, I fire off a quick reply as I head towards my bedroom. I’ve got just enough time to change my clothes quickly and brush my teeth.

  Levi: Overslept. Be there in a second.

  I’m out of my stinky work clothes and into clean shorts and a tee before you can snap your friends. Sure, I’d love to take a shower first, but I’m already late and don’t want her to wait any longer than she already has.

  Grabbing my phone and keys, I pay absolutely no attention to the rest of my place before flying out the door. I probably left all of my lights on, but I don’t give a shit. My girl is waiting.

  I don’t even have to knock before the door opens; and there she is. She’s wearing a light blue sundress that goes all the way to her ankles and cute as fuck silver sandals. My dick takes notice immediately.

/>   “Hey,” she says, holding the door open for me.

  “Hey, sorry about that. I fell asleep on the couch.”

  “Long day?”

  “Excruciating. Tons of calls and we’re still short-staffed. I feel like I haven’t slept in days.”

  “We can do this another night if you want.”

  “No way,” I say, pulling her into my arms and kissing her lips. “I’ve been dreaming about taking you to dinner all week, and I’m craving Chinese like you wouldn’t believe,” I add with a laugh. She just gives me a funny look that makes me wonder if I have something in my teeth or on my face.

  “Ready?” I ask, pulling the door open and waiting for her to exit. God, I love the way her hips sway and the soft material of that dress hugs her ass.

  We make our way down the stairs and to my truck, her hand tucked firmly in my own. It’s a short drive to the restaurant, but it doesn’t stop me from touching her like it’s an Olympic event and I’m battling for the gold. She’s my happiness.

  “Grandma stopped by this afternoon.”

  “Yeah? How are they?”

  “Fine. She was just leaving the flower shop and decided to bring me poppies.”

  “Poppies?” I ask, glancing at her quickly before pulling into the parking lot for the restaurant.

  “You don’t want to know. Grandma insists they look like hairy vaginas but are good luck. So she delivered some to each of us girls apparently.”

  “Good luck for what?” I ask, jumping out of my truck and meeting her at the passenger door.

  “Oh, I’m sure it’s all BS. She says Grandpa loves poppies. I believe that’s code for something and I’m too terrified to ask more questions for fear I’ll need therapy when we’re done. I just take them and smile.”

  Inside, the restaurant is dark and cozy. Even though it’s a Thursday night, there are still several tables full. The hostess leads us to an empty booth, takes our drink order, and returns only moments later with two waters.

  “This place always has great service,” she says absently, taking a sip of her water.

  Another server returns, this one a young female with short black hair and a wide smile. “Levi! So good to see you again,” she coos.

  “Uh, hi.” I rack my brain, trying to figure out how I know her, but come up empty.

  “Drinks?” she asks, glancing at Abby, the bright smile still plastered on her face.

  “Coke for me,” Abby responds, glancing my way with a curious look.

  “Me too. And two orders of teriyaki chicken, an order of fried rice, vegetable lo mein noodles, and crab rangoons.” Looking at Abby, I add, “Anything else?”

  “Nope, that sounds good,” she replies sweetly.

  We make small talk while we enjoy the soup and the rangoons. She tells me about the new book she’s editing, while I tell her an abbreviated version of some of the calls I’ve been on this week. When our meal is delivered, we dive in like we haven’t seen food in days. I love that Abby’s not afraid to eat real food. She’d take a big ol’ cheeseburger over a healthy salad any day, and that’s perfect for me.

  When the plates are cleared, I reach over and take her hand. Her skin is soft and I can’t help but touch it, even if I have to keep it PG in a family-friendly restaurant. “You’re the best part of my day,” I tell her as I kiss the tender skin right below her wrist. She tenses and pulls her hand away.

  “What?” I ask, her green eyes searching mine.

  She’s silent for several long moments, and I can practically see the wheels in her head turning. “Confession time,” she finally whispers.

  “Okay, I confess that you really are the best part of my day. Even when I don’t see you, I carry you here,” I say, tapping my chest over my heart.

  Her eyes cloud with tears, but she doesn’t say anything. Not for two very long minutes where she scans my face, reading my thoughts, and seeing straight into my soul. “Are you on the dating site PerfectDate.com?” she finally asks, causing my heart to stop fucking beating in my chest.

  “Why would I be on there?” I ask casually, tracing a line in her palm with my finger and diverting my eyes to watch the movement.

  “I don’t know. It’s just something you said right now was exactly what my friend said earlier,” she says. I feel her eyes burning into me. Jesus, I should tell her. I have the perfect opportunity to confess that I am SimpleMan, but I choose to keep quiet. I don’t want to have this conversation in a restaurant full of diners. It’s best to come clean in the privacy of one of our homes so that if she screams, yells, and throws things at me, it won’t be with an audience.

  So instead of answering her question truthfully, I lie. “Nope. Not me.”

  The words burn in my gut, eating a hole through my stomach lining. The food I just consumed threatens to make a reappearance. I’ve never lied to her, not like this, not to her face, and definitely not during a confession time. Yet, I can’t seem to retract the words. My head is screaming deny, deny, deny, while my heart is shaking its head and telling me I’ve made a big mistake.

  “Okay,” she says, offering a small smile, just as our server delivers our check and fortune cookies.

  “What the hell?” I ask, taking in the dozen or so cookies on our tray.

  “Did you order extra?” Abby asks.

  “Nope. Maybe that girl has the hots for me. She’s trying to woo me by giving me extra fortune cookies,” I say with a laugh, smiling that my comment earns one back from my girl.

  “Here, pick one,” I say, offering her the tray.

  Abby takes one from the middle and cracks it open. She pulls out the slip of paper, a smile on her face, and reads. Then her smile drops. “Oh my God!” she exclaims.

  “What?” I ask, reaching for her fortune. “No glove, no love. Holy shit, is that a sexual Chinese fortune cookie?” I ask, busting out in laughter.

  “I think so,” she mumbles, her face an adorable shade of fuchsia.

  “Yours is probably better than mine,” I say, grabbing a cookie and cracking it open. “Cover your stump before you hump. Are you serious? What kinda fortune cookies are these?” I ask through fits of laughter.

  We both dive into the cookies, each one opening cookie after cookie.

  “Wrap it before you tap it.”

  “If you want in the heat, better package your meat.”

  “A sword with armor will never harm her.”

  “Cover your vein, then drive her insane.”

  “Before you get spunky, cover your monkey.”

  Wait, this is my favorite,” I say, unable to contain my laughter. “If you’re not going to sack it, then go home and whack it.”

  “What kinda fortune cookies are these?” Abby asks, tears rolling down her face as she collects the dirty little fortunes.

  “No clue, but I feel like we’ve been punked.”

  “Wait,” she says, staring off over my shoulder. “Wait a minute,” she adds before digging into the naughty fortunes. She must find the one she’s looking for because she holds it up, victorious. “This one! Before you get spunky, cover your monkey. I’ve heard that before,” she says, deep in thought. “Yes! Grandma said this one time to Ryan when he started to see Jaime. I’m almost sure of it because I recall how odd it was she called it a monkey during a Sunday lunch.” Abby’s face blushes, which makes me smile that much more.

  “So you’re telling me your grandma is behind these? Like Sex Ed 101.”

  “Oh God, of course! Why didn’t I realize?” she says. “I remember her telling us she subbed for a health class back in the sixties. She talked about how she taught all of the boys to put on condoms using a banana.”

  “Your grandma was a teacher? Wow, I didn’t see that coming.”

  “Actually, no one really knows what she did,” Abby says. “She did a little bit of everything when we were young, and by the time she and Grandpa moved into our home to help raise us girls, she just stayed home.”

  Grabbing my wallet and throwing a fe
w bills on the table for a tip, I say, “I can totally see your grandma schooling the young boys in a sex ed class.”

  “Ugh, so can I,” Abby mumbles as she slides out of the booth and takes my hand.

  I maneuver Abby as close to the middle of my truck as I can and still keep her safely tucked behind a seat belt. Her hand settles on my thigh, my heart in her other hand, figuratively speaking, as I steer us back home.

  By the time we’re almost home, my guilty conscious has me so worked up, I can barely think straight. Why in the hell did I have to lie? And to her face, at that! I’m the biggest fucking coward this side of the Atlantic, that’s for sure. I’m a straight up asshole with a capital A, who doesn’t deserve her love.

  But I have to try to fix this.

  As soon as we get back to her place, I’m telling her that I’m SimpleMan. I’ll beg and plead with her to see what I did as an act of love. Because motherfucker, I love this woman more than life itself. She’s my world, fucking everything I didn’t even know I wanted. And I refuse to go down without a fight. Sure, she’s going to be pissed as hell, but I’ll make her see. It came from a good place, a place that she may not see right away, but eventually will.

  At least, I hope so.

  My heart is hammering in my chest as we make our way out of my truck and towards the building. Our hands are joined as we head into the stairwell and walk up three flights of stairs. For some reason, my legs feel leaded, like a death row inmate making their way towards the electric chair.

  What am I so worked up about? We’re going to be fine. Sure, she’ll probably be pissed off at me for a bit, but one day, we’ll look back and laugh at this little hiccup in our relationship and share the details with our grandkids.

  Grandkids.

  That would insinuate having children. And marriage. And a life together.

  Yep, I fucking want that, and I want it bad.

  Who would have thought: me, Levi Morgan, proverbial bad boy and womanizer, would fall in love with the one woman who has been by his side since he was an ugly little ten-year-old.