My Kinda Kisses

by Lacey Black

  “Stop that, temptress, or you’ll never make it to work.” To show her how serious I am, I rub the entire hard length of my cock against the junction of her thighs. My balls are painfully tight and swelling as we speak. At the rate I’m going, I’ll need to spend a few extra minutes in the shower.

  “I have an idea,” I tell her, once again running my lips across hers and down her cheek to her chin, where I nip at the tender flesh on the underside. “Come away with me this weekend.”

  “What?” she gasps as I nibble down and along her collar bone.

  “We’ll go somewhere down the coast. Maybe a hotel in a small tourist town or a bed and breakfast out of the way where we can just be alone. What do you think?”

  She mewls and pretends to be thinking about it, but I can tell by the way her eyes flutter and roll around that her mind is already set. “I think I get off work at two on Friday.”

  “I’ll leave as soon as I get paychecks from the office. I can be ready to go by three. Come here when you’re ready and we’ll take off.”

  “Where are we going?” she asks, her warm hand sliding down and grabbing my ass.

  “Don’t know, don’t care. As long as there’s a bed and two uninterrupted days that I get to spend with you, then I just don’t give a shit.”

  My eyes are met with sparkling green ones. “I’m in,” she says, smiling an ornery little grin that’s filled with dirty thoughts. “But first? I think you need a shower.” Jaime reaches between us and cups my erection. The groan that erupts from my throat is loud and foreign, even to my own ears.

  “Don’t start something you can’t finish,” I threaten, thrusting my cock upward, loving the way it feels with her tight grip wrapped around it.

  “Who said anything about not being able to finish?” she adds, the temptress.

  My jaw is locked, my body rigid and tight with need. “Work. You. Leaving.”

  Jaime leans up and licks the shell of my ear. “I already called Payton and told her I was going to be late.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Jaime

  Last night was the memorial service for Paula. Not only did Payton’s shop make numerous deliveries of flower arrangements and plants, but Ryan asked me to go with him. It was our first big public display of togetherness, even if we’ve gone to dinner a few times. It felt like some sort of official proclamation to be at something so personal together, as if I was telling the world–or at least the town–that we were dating.

  Not only did Ryan’s company purchase the biggest display of flowers that we delivered, but he also made both a business and personal contribution to their daughter’s schooling fund. As if I needed any more proof as to what type of man Ryan truly is, he goes and does something so selfless and caring that it brings tears to my eyes. “It’s only money,” he said after Orlando told me about the dual donations. “Your daughter’s future is more important than it sitting in some bank account somewhere,” Ryan had said before he hugged his friend.

  I have yet to tell Ryan about my new job offer. I know, I know what you’re going to say, but things have been a little hectic with his job and the memorial service. My plan is to tell him this weekend when we get to wherever it is we’re going.

  My bags are packed and in the trunk of my car, just waiting for the clock to strike two o’clock. Ryan isn’t giving any inclination as to our destination, either. All he will say is that it’s somewhere down the coast.

  I’m giddy with excitement as I check the clock for the ten thousandth time since arriving at Blossoms and Blooms at nine this morning. Rachel has been working more hours lately, and has expressed interest in filling my vacancy when I leave for Addie’s Place. She’s more of the ‘as needed’ part timer with just a handful of hours each pay period. With her schooling schedule, she was always content with that. However, school dismissed at the end of May, and she’s looking to fill more hours between the flower shop and Aces and Jacks, another local bar and grill that’s a frequent hangout for the twenties crowd.

  Next week is my last week with Payton, and even though arranging flowers into beautiful creations isn’t my forte, I’m going to miss seeing and working with her. Payton and I, as the two oldest, have always been close. She supported me when the whole WeddingGate disaster went down, and helped scoop me up off the floor more times than I care to admit. I’m going to miss seeing her nearly every day, that’s for sure.

  “Earth to Jaime,” Payton says just over my left shoulder, startling me.

  “What?”

  “Jeez, what is with you this week? You’ve been lost in your own little world with this lovesick little smile on your lips. It’s nauseating,” she adds goodheartedly.

  “Whatever,” I mumble. “I’m not lovesick.”

  “Oh, come on. Even a blind man can see how much you care for him. Maybe it’s time you should tell him,” she advises while gathering up fresh daisies for a bouquet.

  I don’t respond, but avert my gaze. That was a mistake. Eagle eye Payton zeros in on the change in my body language immediately. “What?” she asks.

  “Nothing. Is Rachel coming in at two or are you going to cover the front counter?” I ask, deflecting.

  “Jaime Marie Summer, look at me.” Her tone is direct and full of authority. It reminds me of our mother’s. Slowly, I turn around. Even slower, I draw my eyes upward until they’re looking into the green eyes of my sister. “Say it.”

  “The other night, he told me he loved me,” I say in one hurried rush of words and air.

  Payton’s jaw falls to the floor moments before she shrieks loud enough to wake half the dead at the cemetery. “OH MY GAWDDDDD! He said that he loved you? When? Where were you? Was it romantic? What did you say? Tell me, tell me! I need to know everything!”

  “Calm down, Jessie Spano. Lay off the caffeine pills, will ya?” I ask, referring to a scene from my favorite childhood television show, Saved By The Bell.

  She ignores my smart-alecky quip and stares me down until I produce the goods.

  “Remember when I had to go pick him up at The Beaver?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, when we got back to his place, things started to get…hot, and he told me that he loved me.”

  “Wait.” She gives me a pointed look. “So, he told you that he loved you…while you were having sex…while he was drunk?”

  Well, when she says it like that it doesn’t sound as beautiful as it was. “It wasn’t like that. That night, things were different. It was slow and tender, and I could tell he was cherishing me. When he said it, there was conviction in his eyes. He meant every word. Plus, we talked about it the next morning.”

  “So, what did you say?” she asks, anxiously waiting for my response.

  “I might have said that I loved him too.”

  “Might have said it? Honey, if you’re going to say it, you best be sure.”

  “I am sure, Pay. I’ve known it for a bit now, but I was too afraid to put myself out there and say it first.”

  “I’m so glad you finally jumped. I have a feeling that Ryan is different. Hell, I’ve seen how he’s different. When you’re in the room, it’s like no one else is around or matters. It’s sickening, actually,” she adds goodheartedly.

  Without responding, I throw my arms around my sister and squeeze. “Thank you for all of the support and encouragement you’ve given me. I don’t think I’d be ready to take this step if it weren’t for you.”

  “Of course you would have, but if you want to give your beautiful older sister all the credit for the matchmaking, I’ll take it!” Payton pulls back and smiles at me.

  “Maybe I can return the favor sometime,” I add, my mind flashing through mental pictures of local guys who would be perfect for her.

  “Oh, no. No you don’t! I don’t need a man. I’m completely content being single and running my shop.” I watch as she quickly keeps her hands busy by rearranging the daisies that are already displayed b
eautifully in the engraved vase.

  “If you say so,” I reply in a singsong voice.

  I can’t fight the smile that spreads across my lips as I sweep up the mess on the floor. Payton isn’t destined to be alone any more than any of my other sisters. She’s funny, driven, and beautiful, and she just needs a little nudge in the right direction.

  I just moved Payton’s love life up to the top of my to-do list!

  ***

  We’ve been on the road for an hour, but it feels like we just started the journey. Conversation flows so easily with Ryan. We’ve each shared details of our day, and I’ve taken several guesses about our destination. I’m rewarded with a smile with each guess, but he doesn’t give any hint as to whether I’m right or not.

  “I have some big news to share with you,” I start as we draw closer to the southeastern tip of Virginia.

  “I’m all ears,” he says, steering his big truck through countryside towns and small touristy destinations along the coast.

  “I quit my job,” I tell him confidently and with a huge smile, loving what those words mean.

  Ryan’s surprised, but I can see the excitement in his eyes. He’s excited simply because I’m excited. “Tell me more. You’re not moving two thousand miles away, are you?” He shoots me a look, and even through his sunglasses, I can see his concern. He’s fearful that I’m about to up and leave.

  “No, no,” I reply quickly, grabbing his hand and linking our fingers. “I made a delivery earlier in the week to Addie’s Place.”

  “Yeah, I know the place. We did some roof repairs there this past spring.”

  “Well, the assistant to the director quit and she was going to start looking for someone to replace her. Before I realized what was happening, I offered myself to fill her vacancy.”

  “That’s awesome, babe,” Ryan says, bringing my hand towards his mouth and brushing a kiss across my knuckles. “I’m not too familiar with what they do there, so fill me in.”

  “It’s sort of a refuge for kids of all ages to go to play and learn after school or during the day if the parents need help. It’s completely run by donations and grants, and does great things for kids who are less fortunate.”

  “That sounds like an amazing place, and I’m sure you’ll be a real asset to the kids. I’ve never really heard what they do there, but I might just have to check into it further. If they survive on donations, maybe it’s time I add them to my list of business contributions.”

  And there I go again, falling deeper in love with this amazingly supportive man.

  “You’re amazing,” I tell him, unable to control myself as I lean over and place kisses all up and down his arm.

  “Well, if that’s all it takes to get you all worked up, I’ll make donations more often,” he quips.

  “All you need to do is look at me and I get worked up. Thank you, though, for considering a donation. I’m sure they’ll gladly accept any that they can get.”

  “What are you going to be doing?” he asks as we pull into a small town called Travelers End. Ryan turns off the main highway and winds us through a local route along the water.

  “I’m not sure. When I was there, Amber, that’s the assistant who’s leaving, was outside reading stories to a small group of preschoolers. They said the after-school kids would be arriving soon, so they were trying to have a little quiet time before the chaos of a dozen older kids descended upon the house.”

  “I don’t think it matters what you’ll be doing, babe. It sounds like a great place,” he adds while pulling off the road and heading down a short, gravel drive.

  “I’ve done a little research since I accepted. I can’t wait to start and do my part for these kids.”

  Ryan stops the truck beside an older Buick parked beside a garage and shuts off the engine. My attention is pulled towards a massive white house with lush, bright flowers hanging from baskets along a sprawling wraparound porch. Rich, brown shutters line each window, and lace curtains appear to be blowing in the open windows.

  “What is this place?” I ask, following suit as Ryan unbuckles his seat belt.

  “This, sweetheart, is where we’re staying for the next two nights. It’s a little Bed and Breakfast owned by Danny’s grandparents. He said they’re generally booked up months in advance, but when he called, they just happened to have a cancellation for this weekend.”

  “Wow, it’s beautiful,” I say, taking in the breathtaking view of the coastline in the background. The clear, blue water sweeps across the sandy shore, disappearing again in the vast Atlantic Ocean.

  “Yes it is,” Ryan confirms before opening his door. “Come on. The only thing standing between you and me getting naked is the elderly couple who will check us in.” With that, he jumps out of the truck, comes around to help me out, and grabs our luggage.

  The inside of the Bed and Breakfast is even better than the outside. The entire place has a Victorian feel to it, with floral prints and dark woodwork that looks original. The furniture looks antique, but comfortable at the same time. It doesn’t have a ‘look but don’t touch’ feel to it at all.

  Off to the left is a large sitting room with wingback chairs and a deep burgundy settee. To the right, a dining room big enough to seat twenty comfortably. A buffet stands along the back wall with what appears to be fresh fruit, homemade muffins, and lemonade. There’s also no mistaking the aroma coming from the kitchen. My stomach growls happily as the scent of Italian food fills the entire house.

  “Ahh, you must be guests for this weekend,” I hear.

  Standing before us is a plump older gentleman with a friendly smile and a mischievous hint in his blue eyes.

  “Yes, sir. I’m Ryan Elson. Your grandson, Danny, helped secure our reservation,” Ryan says, stepping forward to shake the older man’s hand.

  “Of course, of course. You’re Danny’s boss. We’re so happy to have you with us this weekend. I’m Martin, and my wife, Phyllis, is in the kitchen preparing dinner. I hope you both brought your appetites. My Phyllis knows how to cook homemade lasagna like no other. Her mother was Italian, and it’s a specialty of hers. You’re in for a real treat tonight,” Martin says as he steps towards a small counter situated towards the back of the foyer.

  “It smells wonderful. I can’t wait,” I add to the conversation.

  “All of your reservation information was prepared over the phone, so we’re all set on our end. Here’s a pamphlet with tourist information around the area. You’re free to come and go as you wish, and don’t feel obligated to dine here every day,” he says while handing Ryan a packet of information.

  “Thank you,” Ryan replies.

  “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your room.”

  We follow behind as Martin leads us towards a wide staircase. He’s slow to ascend, but it gives me a moment to observe the artwork on the walls and the decorum filling every nook and cranny of the magnificent house.

  At the top of the stairs, we’re greeted with a large, bright hallway with four doors. “We have four guest rooms upstairs. Each is equipped with their own bathroom for privacy. Your room also locks, and we encourage you to lock your door whether you’re in there or not. Though we’ve never had any problems of any sort here, you can never be too careful, you know?”

  Ryan and I both nod our heads in agreement.

  Martin opens one of the doors on the right, which happens to be at the back of the house, and steps aside. The view is breathtaking. The large, four-poster bed in dark, walnut wood is centered in the room. The duvet is white and plush, and is a strong contrast to the rich colors around it.

  A small sitting area is situated in front of three large windows, all open to allow the ocean breeze inside. The dresser matches the woodwork of the bed, and has a massive brass mirror above it. Martin shows us two doors, one a nice-sized closet, and the other a bathroom. Inside, my attention is instantly pulled to the large, claw foot tub. While I’ve seen a few tubs
like this before, this one seems larger than most.

  Large enough for two people.

  “Do you have any questions at this time?” Martin asks when we step back into the bedroom.

  “I don’t believe so,” Ryan responds.

  “Meal times are listed on the sheet with the pamphlet, as well as some amenities we offer. Dinner will be served in about forty-five minutes. We hope to see you there,” Martin says as he walks towards the door.

  “Thank you very much,” I add, my eyes locking on Ryan’s brown ones.

  “You’re welcome. Enjoy your stay.”

  I don’t hear the door close, or the shuffle of Martin’s feet as he walks away. I only hear my heart beating erratically in my chest and the heaviness of my breath. Oxygen is sucked from the room as I’m pulled into Ryan’s ravenous gaze. He stalks towards me, hungrily, like I’m his prey, a small animal about to be devoured by the king of the jungle in one gulp.

  “We don’t have much time,” I remind him as he reaches out and wraps his hand around my waist, pulling me into his broad chest.

  “We have just enough time,” he counters moments before he claims my lips with his.

  The kiss isn’t soft; it’s fierce. Uncontainable. Driven. Like he has one job to do and that is to evoke the most pleasure as he can from this one act; a kiss to set the standard for any and all future kisses.

  Well, Mr. Ryan Elson… Job. Well. Done.

  ***

  When dinner is finished, I’m so stuffed I can barely move. We’re talking slip on your yoga pants and pass out on the couch after Thanksgiving dinner kinda stuffed. And Ryan didn’t fare much better. He appeared to be groaning a little bit out of discomfort with that final helping of Phyllis’ famous lasagna. Throw in a massive side salad–which we both skipped–and enough freshly baked Italian garlic bread to feed half of Virginia, and you have the makings of a hearty food coma.

  Overeating isn’t sexy.

  But it couldn’t be helped. Grandma is an excellent cook and spent my teenage years, like those of my sisters, teaching me to cook decent meals, but this meal? It puts all meals before it to shame. I may just decide to stay at this Bed and Breakfast forever.