Tangled Love (Chaotic Rein Book 1)

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Tangled Love (Chaotic Rein Book 1) Page 7

by Haley Jenner


  She pulls away first, the back of her head hitting the doorframe and I smile down at her.

  “Like the way you say hello.”

  I stare at her for a moment; eyes hooded, bottom lip caught delicately between her teeth, hair purposefully messy. Fuck. My gaze slides down her body; she’s completely covered, long-sleeved, fitted gray top tucked into her black high-waist jeans. There’s a cut of material, open across her cleavage, showcasing the decent swell of her tits, but that’s it. Still, she’s sexy as all fucking hell.

  I step back, stopping myself from pushing this further and fucking her for all her neighbors to see.

  “Random fact,” I start and she smiles expectantly. “Don’t like people listening to my business. Don’t eavesdrop on me again.”

  Her smile falters and she nods her head; fast, shaky movements. “Of course. I’m sorry. Honestly, wasn’t my intention.”

  She’s intimidated by the stern throw of my voice, but she needs to be. Caution is imperative. My whole plan could have gone up in flames in a single moment back there.

  She swallows heavily and attempts to move back into the apartment, uncomfortable with the intensity of my scrutiny.

  “You didn’t tell me yours.”

  “Huh?” she squeaks.

  “Random fact. You didn’t tell me yours.”

  She looks momentarily stunned. Whiplashed at how easily I move between moods. She’ll get used to it.

  “Oh. Umm… I’m allergic to peanuts.”

  I didn’t know that. Everything Rocco has dug up on her and her family so far has been concrete, solid. Nothing she discloses has come as a surprise. Fucking lucky I ain’t kissed her after eating heaped spoons of peanut butter. That could’a ended badly. Or, more likely, quicker than I planned.

  “Hmm… guess I shouldn’t eat peanut butter before I taste your lips then.”

  “That would be appreciated,” she laughs, finally settling from the uncertainty filling her eyes only moments prior.

  “Let me grab my shoes and bag and I’m ready.”

  I follow her into the apartment, eyes focused on her retreating ass, sculpted perfectly in her tight jeans.

  “Yeah, totally not ready to die, just sayin’.”

  “What?” I cough out, a little too loudly.

  She looks at me, her eyes dancing with puzzled amusement. “Joke, Parker. Peanut butter, I just said, I wasn’t ready to die, like, don’t eat it before you kiss me.” She tips her head side-to-side. “It was a lame joke.”

  I force a laugh, heightening her embarrassment and I scold myself internally. “Let’s go,” I declare, changing the subject. “I’m starved.” I let my eyes travel over the shapely figure, letting her read my double innuendo.

  Sliding her feet into a pair of black shimmery pumps, she rolls her eyes, color scattering over her cheekbones as she nods.

  “Dinner was amazing.”

  I squeeze her hand before letting it go and reaching into my pockets for the key to the loft. “Sugar, we had pizza.”

  “Don’t curse at me like that. Pizza is God. And definitely the way into my heart.”

  Pushing the door open, letting her in ahead of me. “Interested in somethin’ other than your heart right about now.”

  She whirls around on high-heeled feet. “Parker,” she scolds joyfully, whacking my arm with her purse. I shrug. It’s true. Best she knows it.

  “Get you a drink?”

  “Water would be good,” she answers, eyes skirting over the loft in intrigue.

  “My rooms that way,” I point in its direction. “Rocco’s that,” I point in the opposite. “Living room, kitchen, gym,” my finger follows my instruction, pointing to each space as I recite them and she follows my lead toward the kitchen.”

  “Bathroom?” She arches an eyebrow.

  “No main bathroom, Rocco and I each have an en-suite. You’ll locate mine that-a-way.”

  Placing her purse on the kitchen counter, she nods, turning in the direction of my room. I fix our drinks, tempted to follow her path, but she’s back before I consider the thought much further.

  She takes the water I offer, smiling in thanks before moving to the couch. “I like your place,” she admires, eyes drinking in every possible detail. Finally, her eyes meet mine as I take a seat next to her.

  “I like you,” I offer quietly, taking her glass and placing it next to mine on the table in front of us.

  She swallows audibly and my hand cups her jaw, holding it tightly as I lower my mouth on hers. She lets me kiss her. Softly. First her top lip. Then her bottom. Her eyelashes flutter, eyes closing as my lips caress hers, a smooth almost inaudible moan escaping her parted lips.

  I tease my tongue along the groove of her upper lip and like clockwork, hers tips out to follow it.

  My body pushes hers into the couch and she goes willingly, her legs moving open to let me fit between her thighs. Her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me more forcefully onto her body, her mouth opening to allow my tongue entry. I grind my hips against the apex of her thighs, her soft, needy moans vibrating into my mouth as I kiss her.

  My cock is hard, straining heavily against my jeans and I push against her. Firmly, letting her feel what she does to my body. She gasps, her mouth falling open, neck tipping back and I take the opportunity to break our kiss, trailing my lips along her jaw, down her neck; tasting her skin.

  She moans and whimpers, her hips pushing against mine, feeling me. My large palm finds her chest, nipples straining through the thin bra barely hiding the heaviness of her tits.

  Fuck. Codi Rein is an accelerant to my fire. Making me mad with the need to claim her body.

  I pinch a nipple and she arches into my touch, her lips seeking mine out once again. My hand travels farther down her body, fingers finding the button of her jeans. I pop it open easily and our kiss breaks, her head falling back and before I have the chance to open my eyes, she moves to sit up, fast.

  Too fucking fast. Her forehead connecting heavily with my nose.

  “Motherfuck,” I spit out, hand flying to my nose, eyes watering.

  Her surprised gasp hits me and I attempt to move off her, at the same time she rolls and arches, kneeing me right in the balls as she pushes me off.

  I fall from the couch on a yell; one hand clutching my junk, the other on my nose. My back slams against the coffee table, our drinks soaking the back of my shirt.

  She mumbles something about working tomorrow, mixing it with a rushed apology. But I’m too caught up in the pain doubling over my body to really listen. I’m not sure what hurts more; my nose or balls.

  Fuck.

  What. The. Fuck. Just. Happened.

  Motherfucker.

  My front door slams shut and my eyes shoot open, glancing around the loft, no longer containing Codi Rein. I pull my hand from my nose, blood pooled in my palm and I tip my head back on a growl, working to stop blood from dropping anywhere else.

  “Fuck, man.”

  I groan at the sound of Rocco’s voice. “How much you see?”

  I don’t look at him, eyes trained on the ceiling, but his voice travels through the loft, moving with his body toward the kitchen. “Heard an almighty grunt, pained, not sexual, came out to check and saw the knee to junk and then her fleeing the scene, barely made time to grab her shoes.”

  Standing over me, he hands me a bag of frozen veggies. “Ice your balls.”

  I struggle up, moving to sit on the couch and do as he says, lodging the ice cold packet against the ache of my nutsack. He hands me a dishtowel, ice packed inside. “Hold this against your nose.”

  “One second she was moaning, arching into me, totally fuckin’ into it, next she’s causing me grievous bodily harm. What. The. Fuck.” The sound of my voice is muffled, nasal from the hit and I hear Rocco’s breath of laughter. “Shut the fuck up.”

  “You guys fucked yet?”

  I shake my head, my head spinning from the movement.

  “Probably movin’ a tad fas
t or some shit chicks sprout so they don’t seem like their sluts. I don’t give a shit if a girl gives it up the first time I meet her, man. I don’t know where they pulled this wait a certain number of dates shit. All that does is piss me off.”

  I grunt in agreement. I hate games. Fuckin’ despise women holding out on me for no other reason than trying to keep me interested. Wanna know what keeps me interested? Knowing how their pussy fuckin’ tastes, not wondering. Knowing they’re not a fuckin’ dud lay, that they openly participate in our fucking. That’s what keeps me the fuck interested.

  I don’t know what Codi Rein is playing at, but I ain’t interested in being her puppet.

  Later that night, showered, balls a little less tender than they were a few hours ago, I grab my cell, searching for her name and hitting call before I can second guess myself. The shrill ring of her phone echoes in my apartment and I stalk through it, locating her purse still sitting on our kitchen island where she left it earlier.

  I scowl down at it, pulling my cell from my ear and ending the call. Bitch ran out of here so fast, she didn’t think to grab her purse. What the actual fuck?!

  Nose still tender, I head to bed, trying to decipher what the fuck is going on in Codi’s brain. Maybe Rocco was right, maybe I was moving too fast for her. Did it necessitate a hit to my junk and possibly a black eye? Fuck no. But, maybe she ain’t playing a game, maybe she was genuinely panicked with us moving too fast. A conversation needs to be had, save myself another black eye.

  Eight

  Codi

  A stream of light hits my face and I open one eye, glancing around the room in the hope that overnight the world had opened wide and swallowed me whole. Unfortunately, my room looks very much the same and I open my other eye, considering the possibility that I’ve entered an alternate universe. One where I didn’t just humiliate myself beyond belief.

  God, I’m such a loser.

  I never considered my virginal status as an issue. Even now, I don’t consider it a problem. Per se. The fact that I’m keeping it from Parker, could be wrong. Maybe. Or definitely.

  But what if it scares him away. Jesus. I’d be a fumbling mess. Definitely not what he’s used to and hardly attractive.

  Last night started with so much promise. Until it didn’t. My God, what Parker must think of me. I throw an arm over my eyes, shielding myself from the mortification of the evening before, without success. The events replay in my mind; the heavy make-out session, the expert way in which his large palms caressed my body. I was so turned on.

  Until I wasn’t. No that’s not right. I was definitely still incredibly turned on, but as soon as his hand began unbuttoning my jeans, I freaked.

  Understatement of the century.

  Definitely likely.

  And the head-butt.

  “Ugh!” I massage my eye sockets with my palms.

  “Sounds like you’re strangling a defenseless puppy in here.”

  I startle, pushing up onto my elbows, glaring at Camryn. “Should I be concerned that you know what that sounds like?”

  She shrugs, sauntering into my room and settling in bed beside me. “Hypothetical.”

  I roll over, onto my side, pulling my comforter over my head, groaning loudly.

  She pulls it down enough to see my eyes. “What happened?”

  “Oh, Ryn,” I sigh, throwing the blanket off and rolling onto my back. “It was a disaster. Everything was amazing until our make-out session started morphing into something more. I freaked.” I cover my face with my hands, shaking my head.

  Silence meets my ears and I turn my head, peeking from behind my fingers. Camryn swallows thickly, her eyes shut forcefully to block out the images in her mind. “Did he force it?”

  I sit upright. “Oh, God no.” I curse myself for not thinking about my words before I spoke them. I grasp her hand in mine, squeezing tight. “Ryn, I promise, no. I should’ve chosen my words more carefully.”

  She offers me a tight smile, her default to the shadows that slice into her soul. “What happened?” she scratches out.

  I stay sitting upright, wanting to keep my eyes on hers. “We had dinner, we talked, we laughed. It was amazing. Ryn, really, beyond perfect. We kissed, a lot. It was phenomenal.” My voice sounds breathy, my thoughts back to the feel of his lips on mine, the skillful drag if his tongue against my own.

  “A lot of heavy touching,” I continue. “Then his hand started at my pants. I freaked.”

  She eyes me suspiciously, a smirk pulling at the side of her mouth. “Describe freaked.”

  I blink, holding my eyes closed. “I sat up so fast, I head-butted him; my forehead connecting with his nose. Hard. If that didn’t startle him enough, I then attempted to move, awkwardly rolling off the couch, kneeing him in the—” I wave my hand in the air, indicating to what I can’t bring myself to vocalize. Finally opening my eyes, I look to my sister, expecting sympathy. Understanding of my mortification, even. I should’ve known better. Camryn’s hand covers her mouth, barely containing her wide grin, her eyes dancing with her imminent laughter.

  “You head-butted him. In the nose. Kneed him in the balls and then what?” she mumbles behind her palm.

  I smash my hand against my forehead, groaning. “I ran. Got up, grabbed my shoes, mumbled something about having to work today and left.”

  A loud laugh bubbles from her throat, once, twice, before it cackles heavily into the air. “Oh my God. Fuck, Codi. Did he follow you?”

  I chew on my thumbnail, shaking my head. “He was still clutching his, you know—” I wave my hand again, indicating his nether regions and Camryn folds in on herself, her laughter now hysterical as tears stream from her eyes.

  I give her a moment. Only a few seconds before I push her. “Ryn,” I whine. “It’s not funny.”

  “On the contrary, sister. It’s fucking hilarious.”

  She’s right. Humiliating, sure. But still, beyond amusing. I fall back onto the bed, my own laughter mixing heavily with Camryn’s. Every time the sound dies off, it starts back up with more fervor. We’re gasping for air, clutching our stomachs at the pain our excessive laughter causes in our abdomen.

  Finally, she exhales heavily, wiping at her eyes. “Fuck me. Has he texted? Called?”

  I shrug, my eyes wide as I turn toward her. “I left my purse and cell in his loft. I’m lucky I grabbed my shoes.”

  Ryn matches my wide stare, for the briefest of seconds before her laughter overtakes her again.

  Her laughter didn’t die down, so I left her to it, marinating in my mortification, Ryn’s incessant cackle taunting me from every corner of our apartment.

  Bitch.

  Sipping coffee, laden with sugar (of course), I glare at my bedroom door, her laughter having died down to a sporadic chuckle every thirty seconds or so.

  Wandering from my room, she smiles at me widely. “I’m sorry,” she almost laughs again. “I’ve just been recreating it in my head. It’s brilliant. On so many levels.”

  “I’ve showered, dressed, and made coffee in the time it’s taken you to stop.”

  She glances at my appearance, her eyes skating my body before her bottom lip pushes out in thought. “Huh. Haven’t laughed so hard in a really long time.”

  Her off-handed comment ceases my scowl immediately and I return her grin with one of my own. “Glad to be of service. Now come, sit,” I urge. “I need your advice.”

  Sliding onto a bar stool, she grabs at my coffee, taking a large sip. “Oh, sugar, how I love thee.”

  I pour myself another mug, heaping sugar into the dark liquid before adding cream. “What do I do?”

  Ryn watches me over the rim of her mug, taking a sip before placing it back on the counter.

  “Does he know?”

  “I’m a virgin?” I clarify and she nods. “No.”

  She tips her head side to side, thinking. “Was he moving for sex or just wanting to touch you?”

  “I don’t know,” I state, dropping my elbows to
the bench and massaging my temples.

  “Are you ready for sex? I know your virginity is intact, but you’re not completely untouched?”

  “I’ve done some. Not a lot though.”

  “Need to tell him, babe. For your sake and his. He’s a thirty-year-old man, kneeing him in the balls any time he attempts to touch you is gonna wear thin. Fast.”

  I groan outwardly, but it’s stuck in a laugh, the sound coming off frustrated and strangled. Exactly how I feel.

  “I can see it moving that way with him. I definitely wanted him to touch me, I just panicked. What if he’s creeped out that I’m a twenty-five-year-old virgin?”

  She drains the remainder of her coffee, sliding the empty mug toward the sink. “Could go either way. Some dudes freak, some dudes take it as an accomplishment.”

  “Look,” she adds. “You could give him a little of something,” she offers. “Use your hand, your mouth. Something to tide him over while you work out what you want. But only if it’s what you want to do. Babe, don’t let yourself feel rushed into anything.” She reaches out to grab my hand. “Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  I finish my coffee in silence, Ryn staying to keep me company. The quiet of the morning refreshingly peaceful considering I could overanalyze what Parker will think of me after last night. But I guess it’s out of my hands, if he decides I’m a complete loon and no longer wants to see me, so be it.

  Our apartment intercom buzzer sounds and we both glance to the intercom, then back to one another. Shrugging, Ryn leans over pressing the button. “Yello.”

  “Codi in? It’s Parker.”

  My eyes feel like saucers in my face and I glance nervously at my sister’s wide grin.

  “Hey. Hey. Come on up. Take the elevator. Don’t want you to strain any injuries you may’ve endured recently.”

  “Ryn,” I screech when I’m confident her hand has released the intercom.

  She shimmies off her chair. “Try not to cause him physical injury this time. My abdominal muscles have had enough of a workout.”

  I dance awkwardly in the kitchen, turning toward the door, then scurrying back into the kitchen, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to say.

 

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