Corey glanced down at his clipboard, then back up at her. “So, are you ready to get to work? According to my list you’re on sidewalk duty.”
She barked out a laugh. “Put me to work, Coach.”
Two hours later, Mya was ready to crawl under the wooden deck in front of Emile’s Restaurant and take a nap. She lived a pretty active lifestyle, but her body wasn’t used to continuous manual labor. Accompanied by several members of the Gauthier Fighting Lions cheerleading squad and drill team, she had pulled all the weeds popping out of the brick sidewalk that lined either side of Main Street. Her back ached from the constant crouching.
Mya walked over to the table where her grandmother sat, along with Clementine Washington. They were shaded by a green-and-white tent with Gauthier Fighting Lions printed on all four sides.
“Looks like you can use something cool to drink,” her grandmother said. “You want water or punch?” She pointed to the orange coolers that were commonly seen hoisted over the heads of winning football coaches just before the game clock ticked down to zero.
“Water is fine,” Mya answered, and was handed a blessedly cold bottle of water from a huge ice chest.
“Main Street is looking better already,” her grandmother said. “I’ll bet we’ll have this place cleaned up by the end of the day.”
Even though Main Street was well preserved, before this morning Mya was sure they were going to need more than just one day to spruce up this area. But with the more than one hundred volunteers working tirelessly, the idea of them being done by the end of the day didn’t seem out of the realm of possibility.
Phylicia was moving methodically from parking spot to parking spot, pressure-washing oil and other automotive fluid that had leaked from cars and stained the asphalt. Aunt Mo led the group of volunteers who were adding a glossy coat of black paint to the wrought-iron lampposts that lined the street.
Her grandmother was right; this place was already looking better, and it wasn’t even ten o’clock yet. Mya could not suppress the current of prideful satisfaction that rippled through her. This was happening because of her.
“You slacking off?”
Mya jumped and turned, finding Corey standing just a foot behind her. A swath of sweat stained the front of his green T-shirt and clung to his viciously ripped chest and stomach. Mya took a long pull on her water bottle, but it didn’t cool off her heated body one bit.
“C’mere.” Corey gestured with his head and tugged at her sleeve.
“What?” Mya staggered behind him.
“I’ve got something to show you.”
They walked along the side of the pharmacy and Mya knew where they were going before they reached the rear of the building.
The storage shed.
It was a small wooden structure, no more than six-by-eight feet, and used to store cleaning equipment and oversize boxes. There was just enough room for two horny teenagers to get into all kinds of trouble. Mya’s skin tingled at the memories.
“Remember this?” Corey asked, retrieving a key from his pocket.
“Where did you get that key?”
“Told Shelly I needed to borrow a couple of buckets,” he said. He opened the door to the darkened shed, and Mya’s heart skipped several beats.
“All this sun must have gone to your head, Corey Anderson. You’re crazy if you think I’m going in there with you.”
He leaned close and buried his face against her neck, inhaling deep. “Come on, Peaches. You know you want to.”
A double fudge brownie sundae with extra fudge was easier to resist than that invitation, but then the sundae was no good for her either. Mya took a step back, but Corey grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the shed. He shut the door, leaving them in the dark except for the light streaming in through the wooden slats of the walls.
He pushed aside an empty box, picked her up by the waist and planted her on the shelf that lined the shed’s right wall. Mya’s legs opened automatically to let Corey in, the height of the shelf bringing their bodies into perfect alignment. It was just as she remembered. Fifteen years ago, they wouldn’t have even bothered to get undressed. Corey would have just moved her panties to the side and plunged inside of her in a matter of seconds.
“God, I used to live for this,” Corey murmured against her neck. He ran his hands up and down her back then moved to her hips, encasing her thighs in his palms. “I would count down the minutes until three o’clock, when Doc Landry would leave to go check on that parrot. I knew as soon as his car pulled out of the alleyway that we had exactly twenty minutes.”
“After that stupid bird died, I had to come up with all kinds of excuses to leave the store.” Mya laughed.
“You got pretty good at it,” Corey mused.
“I still can’t believe he never realized what we were up to. I used to be so scared we’d get caught.”
“I was way too good to ever get caught.” He rubbed his nose along the edge of her jaw, his lips grazing her neck and collarbone with soft kisses.
“Corey, stop it,” Mya said with the weakest, most pitiful protest she’d ever uttered. “There are over a hundred people out here. We can’t do this right now.”
“Nobody knows we’re in here.”
Bare fingers clutched the small of her back and Mya’s entire being tingled at the sensation of his rough warmth abrading her skin. He pulled her into closer contact with his body, his hands moving down to grip her backside.
She buried her hands underneath his shirt. He was divine; smooth skin draped over solid firmness. Mya clawed her way up his back, remembering the way the ropy muscles in his shoulders would undulate against her hands as he pumped in and out of her body with swift, sure strokes. He could light her on fire in mere seconds and bring her to earth-shattering orgasm moments later. She’d slept with a total of four men in her thirty-two years, and not one of them had ever come close to satisfying her the way Corey had.
Mya let her head fall back as Corey’s hands traveled from her waist to her stomach, then up and over her satin-and-lace bra. He hooked his fingers just over the edge of the cups and pulled them down. Her nipples hardened in anticipation. When his roughened palms closed over her breasts, a whimper escaped her throat.
Corey groaned against her neck, licking and sucking and biting as his fingers pinched and plucked and rubbed her distended nipples.
“I really want to pull those shorts off of you,” he whispered against her skin, “but I locked my wallet in the glove compartment of my car.” He pulled away from her neck and looked at her. “You don’t happen to have a condom on you, do you?”
“Why would I have a condom?” Mya asked.
“Thought not,” he said with a sigh. “Dammit, Mya. How am I supposed to go back out there like this?”
She looked down and her mouth watered at the sight of the huge erection pulsing just on the other side of his zippered khaki shorts.
“You’re the one who started this,” she said. He still held her naked breasts in his palms, and she wasn’t inclined to move his hands away. Having his rough skin upon her felt like heaven.
Corey lowered his forehead to hers and gently squeezed her breasts. “If I don’t have you soon I think I might die.”
A wry grin eased up the corners of her lips. How many times had she heard that line from him?
“That may have worked back in high school,” Mya said. “But I’m not as naive as I used to be.” She clamped on to his forearms and pulled his hands away, then straightened her bra back into place and smoothed the wrinkles from her shirt.
“I’m not playing around, Mya. This is killing me.”
As she watched him struggle with his unfulfilled lust, all Mya could think about was her own valiant attempt to resist the hunger that had been building within her. It was a losing battle. Her body had been t
eetering along the edge of desire for the past two weeks, and the ache became harder to fight with every second she was around him.
She was tired of fighting.
She was no longer a love-struck teenager. She knew exactly what she would be getting herself into if she embarked upon a sexual relationship with Corey. It would be in direct opposition to the claim she’d made a long time ago that she was over him. She was setting herself up for frustration, possibly even heartache.
But there was one thing she was certain to get: pleasure. Much, much pleasure.
Streaks of filtering sunlight sliced across his chest, highlighting the way his moist shirt clung to his well-defined six-pack. The impulse to strip the shirt from his body and lick her way up and down his torso was so strong that Mya knew she had to break free right now. If they stayed in here much longer, they would both end up naked, sweaty and panting.
But satisfied. So incredibly, remarkably satisfied.
Corey stepped up to her again and captured her mouth in a swift kiss. She bit back a moan and pulled away.
“We need to get back out there,” she said, putting her hands on his chest and gently pushing him.
He let out a low curse as he backed up. His eyes zeroed in on her nipples that puckered against her cotton shirt, and he licked those lips that Mya wished were still exploring her neck.
Corey’s head fell back as he let out another groan. He cupped his straining erection and squeezed himself through the fabric. The picture of sexual frustration.
“Just like high school,” Mya said, unable to keep the laughter from her voice.
“This isn’t funny,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “Do you know how hard it will be to work like this for the rest of the day?”
Mya empathized with him, but not enough to help ease his...situation. She scooted off the shelf, brushing against Corey in the tight confines of the storage shed. Her blood heated at the contact, and she knew she needed to get out fast.
She pointed a finger at Corey’s chest. “Remember, we’re supposed to be working. Don’t try luring me away again.”
He slid a knowing gaze her way and smiled with deliberate slyness. “You could have said no.”
Yeah, right. When had she ever been able to say no to him?
“I mean it, Corey Anderson. You’re not going to tempt me again today.”
A hint of challenge entered his eyes, and Mya knew she’d just landed herself into a heap of trouble.
“You willing to bet on that?” Corey asked.
She refused to take the bait. It would only give him incentive to try harder, and she didn’t need Corey laying on the heavy charm. The day was hot enough.
Her hand on the rusty door handle, Mya pointed at him again and said, “Stay away.” Then she cut out of the storage shed before he lured her back in.
* * *
Corey hitched a heel on the rim of the shovel and drove it deep into the packed earth, turning up the dirt at the base of the oak tree. Sweat poured off him, and his muscles were so tired they quivered, but he continued to ram the shovel. He had enough pent-up energy to till this entire damn park.
Why had he dragged Mya into that storage shed?
He’d known what would happen—he’d get worked up. And he’d also known what wouldn’t happen—sex. Of any kind. They were in the middle of cleaning up Main Street, for God’s sake. The kids from his baseball team were swarming around this place. He knew better than to try having sex in a storage shed.
Seeing that tiny building again and having Mya so close by had caused something in his brain to snap. He’d lived out too many fantasies in that cluttered shed to pass up the opportunity to revisit a few of them. What he hadn’t counted on was Mya’s reaction. If only she hadn’t responded to his touch the way she had, maybe then he could get his body under control.
“Dammit,” Corey grunted with another vicious thump of the shovel.
Every time he came close to cooling off from the fire she’d lit within him, he’d feel her nipples pebble against his palms, a phantom imprint that wouldn’t go away. She’d been ready for him. If she had been wearing a skirt today instead of those shorts, he would have been inside of her, condom or no condom.
Although, a skirt wouldn’t cup her perfectly rounded butt the way those shorts did, and he wouldn’t have the view he had right now.
Balancing a begonia bulb in one hand, Mya bent over and settled it in the dirt he’d turned over around the base of another oak tree about twenty feet away. She tapped the dirt around it and motioned for one of the cheerleaders carrying an old-fashioned tin watering can to come over and moisten the soil. When the girl was done, Mya planted her gloved fists on her hips and looked around the park. Her eyes caught his and she smiled.
God, he’d missed her smile. Even on his worst day, when Coach had drilled his ass in practice or he’d gotten caught up with his idiot brothers in some kind of troublemaking scheme, one smile from Mya would change his entire outlook. So much time had passed, yet the feelings he’d had for her still ran as strong as ever. He’d never gotten over her.
And Corey realized he never wanted to.
Mya Dubois had stolen his heart a long time ago, and he was all too willing to let her keep it, provided she allowed the rest of him to come along for the ride.
She walked up to him, those hands still on her hips, the top half of her face shaded by that ratty black-and-gold sun visor.
“I thought you were avoiding me for the rest of the day,” Corey said.
“I think you’ve had enough time to cool down,” she said.
“Think again,” Corey muttered. “I’m as bad as these horny baseball players running behind the cheerleaders.”
“We’ve had our turn at that.”
“There’s nothing saying we can’t have it again.” Corey saw the desire in her eyes. She wanted to, but damn if she wasn’t fighting it.
“Are you almost done here?” she asked. “We need to get those flower bulbs in the ground, then we need to clean out the fish pond. I ordered twenty Japanese koi fish for the pond, my contribution to the town of Gauthier.”
“Koi? That had to set you back a few hundred dollars,” he said.
Mya shrugged. “I may not be rolling in dough, but I do okay. I want this place to impress the media at the end of the month. And with the progress we’ve made today, it’s going to do just that.”
“It does look good,” Corey said, trailing his eyes over the park.
Most of the shrubbery had been pruned, and new flowers had been planted around the base of most of the oak trees that lined the pathway leading to the waterwheel and wooden gazebo. The park benches were in the process of getting a fresh coat of paint and piles of raked leaves and pine needles were being loaded into huge wheelbarrows. They would be turned into mulch and brought back to help fertilize the soil around the newly planted flowers.
“Lunch!” someone called. “We’ve got lunch!”
“Lunch?” Corey looked over at Mya, but she only shrugged her shoulders with a confused frown crinkling her forehead. They walked out of the park entrance and found dozens of people gathered around Jamal’s top-of-the-line pickup truck. His friend stood in the truck bed, handing out sandwiches.
“He bought lunch for everyone?” Mya asked, awe in her voice.
“That’s Jamal,” Corey said.
“Hey,” Jamal called out to Corey. “I’ve got cases of potato chips in the front. Come and give me a hand.”
Corey took his gloves off and handed them to Mya. He gestured back toward the park. “Meet me in the gazebo in fifteen minutes. I’ll bring lunch.” He winked at her and headed to the chaos surrounding Jamal’s truck.
Chapter 9
Mya sat on the freshly sanded porch steps in front of Emile’s Restaurant, unabashed
ly watching Corey as he helped to serve the lunch his friend had so generously provided. The way the damp T-shirt molded to Corey’s back made her mouth instantly water.
She blew out a defeated sigh. Her body’s demands had waged an all-out war against her common sense, and her common sense was ready to concede. The fight was futile and, at this point, exhausting.
Why should she deny herself any longer? It’s not as if she were in danger of falling for Corey’s charm again. It’s not as if sleeping with him would tether her to this town. In two weeks, after they held the 175th-year celebration and convinced the historical society and state tourism board that Gauthier was worthy of their attention, she would be on a plane to New York. Why not head back to the Big Apple a sexually satisfied woman?
“I see some things haven’t changed.” Phylicia plopped down on the step next to her.
“Why do you say that?” Mya asked, though the answer was obvious. She was blatantly staring at the man, and if anyone knew the intimacies of her previous relationship with Corey, it was Phylicia. The only thing Mya hadn’t shared with her best friend was news of the baby she’d miscarried.
“He does still look good,” Phylicia mused. “He was cutting your grandmother’s lawn the other day, and pulled his shirt off just as I drove by. I damn near wrecked my truck.”
Mya belted out a laugh so loud it drew stares.
“That friend of his is pretty hot, too,” Phil commented.
“Jamal?” Mya dragged her eyes away from Corey long enough to glance at the other man. Yep, gorgeous just about summed him up.
“I did some work at that house he’s fixing up. I almost had a heart attack when I walked in there and saw Sheetrock on the walls,” Phil said with a derisive grunt.
“I got the grand tour earlier this week. I know it probably kills you to see him get rid of some of the original structure, but that house is going to be spectacular when he’s done.”
“If he’s ever done,” Phil snorted. “He’s been working on it for months. Hey, do you want a sandwich?”
A Forever Kind of Love (Kimani Romance) Page 11