A Sweet, Sexy Collection 1: 5 Insta-love, New Adult, Steamy Romance Novellas (Sweet, Sexy Shorts)

by Kaylee Spring

  My mouth halts her mid-sentence. As I wrap my arms around her, the tension pulling her shoulders down falls away. She lifts up on her toes to reach me better.

  After pulling away, I say, “It sounds incredible. But are you sure? Moving in together is a big step. We’re sort of moving at light speed.”

  She nods enthusiastically. “Light speed. I like that! I’m tired of slowing my life down, wondering what I’m supposed to do next. Ever since I lost Steve, well, I lost myself too. But when you came along, I felt like a little of my old self has peeked out of its shell. Even my dad commented on it when he helped me move all my stuff over here today. Said that today was the first time he’s heard me laugh all year.”

  We step in and she flips on the lights. The same cardboard boxes I spied in her other apartment are stacked along the walls. The sofa is covered in clothes she obviously just pulled from her closet, the hangers poking up like a threatened porcupine. I can see the edge of a mattress inside the nearest bedroom, but it’s on the floor, the frame disassembled and leaning against the wall. That’s when I start counting doors.

  “Only one bedroom?”

  Kat’s biting her lips. “I was thinking I was going to live alone when I got this place, and I didn’t need too much space. I know all of this is sudden and crazy. If you change your mind about everything, I would understand.” She takes my hand in both of hers. “But I’d really like you to stay. I think we could be good for each other. We can set up the living room as a sort of second bedroom if you like.”

  “I wouldn’t mind crashing in the living room every night,” I say. Kat’s fingers go a little slack at this, but I’m not finished. “However, it looks like there’s a perfectly good mattress in that room. Seems pretty big too.” I’m smiling at my insinuation, hoping Kat picks up on it.

  She does.

  “It’s the same as the one we slept on last night. Queen size.” Her bright smile widens. “So you’re in? We’re really doing this?”

  Our hands are still linked, but I pull away. Kat must think I do this so we can walk inside and explore more, but that’s not exactly the plan I had in mind. The moment my hands are free, I wrap my arms around her and pull her body against mine. Her head tilts back, giving me perfect access to her lips. Her tongue flicks against mine. Her fingernails drag across the back of my shoulders.

  Without a word, we each kick our shoes off and proceed to tear away clothes as we stumble into the bedroom. By the time we fall onto the mattress, I’m down to boxers while Kate looks up at me, wearing nothing but panties and a bra. It’s a sort of see-through lace that makes me wonder if she was planning this the whole time.

  “How about we pick up from where we left off last night?”

  “I’d prefer to start from the beginning,” I say and begin tracing paths of kisses across her stomach, up her sternum, following the underside of her jaw until I latch onto her earlobe. Kat’s squirming under me this whole time, rubbing her hands along my back. When I pull away and look at her, her eyes shine with pure trust and maybe even the beginning of love. I hope she sees the same reflected in my eyes.

  Our lips meet and I pin her to the bed, my hands holding hers above her head as I venture back down, working my lips and tongue under the edges of her bra until I find her perfect little nipples, giving the first plenty of attention before moving onto the next. Kat’s grinding her pelvis against my rock-hard cock, moaning as I take my time.

  When I finally release her arms, it’s only so I can strip her completely naked. For just a moment, I admire her beauty, biting my lips and considering myself lucky that we met, even if it meant getting a face full of pepper spray. Then I dive between her legs, going straight for her clit, sucking and licking and inserting a single finger inside of her. My tongue and finger work in unison, tightening the tension inside of her that threatens to snap any moment as she groans and squirms and reaches down to clutch at my head.

  After a guttural scream, her thighs squeeze my head while she’s simultaneously pushing me away. When she finally releases me, I climb back on top of her, happy to see that she’s nothing but mush now, unable to move and barely able to talk.

  “That was incredible,” she says between sultry breaths.

  “We’re only just beginning,” I say and slide my dick just slightly inside of her. Her eyes widen and she’s instantly awake again, biting her lips. Then I’m pressing in further, until I feel all of me consumed by all of her. I’m on top, missionary style, but I only stay in this position long enough to get her back to the crest of the wave about to break over both of us. Then I lift her left leg and duck underneath it, being sure I don’t slide out. Soon I’m lying beside her, Kat still on her back, me on my side facing her.

  Working back up to my previous rhythm, I slide my right hand back over her clit, caressing it lightly, earning a perfect gasp and clenched fingers over my hand, guiding my pace. Her head rolls back on the pillow, her mouth open wide. I relish in the way she changes as she reaches that zenith of bliss. How her breath catches in her chest, escaping her mouth in the form of throaty gasps. How her muscles tense as she falls over the other side of the cliff. The quivers that rock through her as I explode inside of her.

  Chapter 13

  One Month Later

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Aaron calls out to me. He’s standing in the open door of our apartment, a backpack slung over his shoulders, another dangling from his hands. I’m already at the mouth of the stairwell, tired of waiting. He’s a guy, after all. I thought they were supposed to be the ones who were waiting around for us to get ready.

  He closes the door and locks it, after which he pulls at the handle three times to make sure it’s secure.

  “Come on!” I yell down the hallway, no doubt annoying the neighbors who are still sleeping. Which is more than likely all of them given that it’s only 6:30 in the morning.

  “Can’t be too careful,” Aaron says, strolling leisurely across to me. “Never know what kind of bad guys are waiting around the corner. You never did replace that can of mace, did you?”

  “That’s what I have you for.” I grab his hand and pull him down the stairs as fast as my feet can move. “Now if you’re finished making sure you look all pretty, can we please get a move on?”

  At the base of the stairs, he grabs me around the waist, pulling me in for a hug we don’t have time for. “The longer you struggle, the longer I’m going to keep you here.”

  “We can’t be late for our first class,” I whine, giving one last useless wiggle in an effort to free myself.

  “And we won’t be. We have more than two hours. We both know it takes thirty-three minutes to walk there if we’re being slow. Twenty-four if we’re in a hurry. Do you know how I know that?”

  I sigh, because I know he’s never going to let this go. Not now that he’s seen this ultra-cautious side of me. He claims it’s cute, but I know it can get exhausting. Case in point, the reason he knows exactly how long it takes to get from our door to the campus. “Because I made you walk there and back every day last week.”

  “The past nine days, to be precise. So I know we’ll get there with plenty of time to eat a bagel at that little café we found. We may even have a few minutes to finally have a look inside the library now that we’re official students.”

  “No,” I say, horrified at the thought. “There’s no way we’ll have time for that. We have to get to class at least thirty minutes early. Forty-five would be better though. And then there’s the weather. Did you know there’s a 20% chance of rain this morning? What are we going to do if—”

  Aaron leans over and kisses me, his lips lingering just long enough that I’ve lost my train of thought.

  “Fine. No library. We can check that out this afternoon.”

  I nod at this, keeping my mouth shut. I did it again. Went off like a crazy person, worrying about every single thing that could possibly go wrong. I’ve been getting better, thanks to Aaron. He keeps me grounded.
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  And he’s right, after all. Barely thirty minutes later we’re at the university café, but I’m too nervous to eat more than half a bagel. Seeing this, Aaron finishes quickly and makes sure I get to my first class nearly an hour early. He waits with me until another student finally shows up. That’s when I finally push him away. He has his own classes to get to, and I don’t want him to be late.

  Seven hours later, we’re in the library, exploring all three of its floors and talking about our day.

  “There was this girl who sat next to me,” I tell him. “We got to talking. She seems cool. We’re planning to meet up for a study session tonight. Do you mind?”

  Aaron just laughs. “A study session? Babe, it’s only the first day of the semester.”

  “I know, but we both said we don’t want to fall behind.”

  He shakes his head. “Whatever makes you happy.”

  I stand on my tiptoes and place a kiss on his cheek. “You make me happy.”

  Aaron smiles at me, but then his dimples deepen as he looks over my shoulder. “What’s that over there?”

  It looks like a brand new extension on the library. It’s a section of study ‘pods’, though really they’re just tiny rooms with a desk and chair in each. A touchscreen computer beckons us with a screen full of green: every study room is vacant and ready to be used.

  “That’s pretty cool,” I say and run my fingers over the screen.

  “Yeah,” Aaron says, his mind clearly somewhere else. “It is.”

  I’m turning away when he swipes his student card and chooses the study pod in the farthest back corner.

  “What are you doing?” I barely get this question out before he drags me through the turnstile and past the rows of empty study pods until we reach the one he pre-selected. When he swipes his ID on the card reader, the door slides open. It’s a room about four feet by four feet. Barely bigger than an airplane bathroom. A chair, a desk, and a lamp are the only things inside.

  “I don’t think we’re supposed to come in here together,” I protest, but he continues dragging me forward. As I cross the threshold behind him, I cast a glance back down the way we came. There’s no one watching us. Not surprising since it’s the first day of the semester. Everyone has better places to be than the library.

  Then the door slides closed behind us.

  “We should get go—” I begin to say, but Aaron’s mouth covers mine before I can finish. His hands go to my shoulders, pressing me up against the desk. Overcome by the unexpected rush of dopamine, I sink into his arms, pressing my tongue against his. When my thoughts catch back up, I say, “We can’t! What if we get caught?”

  Aaron pulls away just long enough to smirk and ask, “What if we don’t?”

  Then he’s pulling my shirt over my head, and I’m not resisting anymore. Not when he lifts me up on the desk. Not when his fingers drag my panties off. Not as his cock presses against the entrance to my vagina.

  Then he presses in and all thoughts of turning back are gone.

  Aaron actually presses his palm over my mouth. That’s the first time I realize how loud I’ve been moaning. We both look to the cloudy sliding glass door. No shadows are walking past. No sounds of running footsteps belonging to staff looking to investigate.

  As he speeds up, I stop worrying about how the desk bangs against the wall. We’re both at the point of no return. I can feel it in the way he’s swelling inside of me. Then the perfect whiteness of orgasm spills over my brain, erasing everything else I may have been thinking or worrying about before.

  After a few deep breaths, we pull our clothes back in place, peek out the door once more, and then scurry back into the main library area once more.

  “You’re not going to be a good influence on me, are you?” My stern face doesn’t hold though, and an impossible-to-contain grin pulls at the corners of my lips.

  Aaron has this goofy smile on his face. “What if I am a bad influence? What are you going to do? Mace me again?”

  A worker who must have overheard this rounds the corner, a cart full of books in front of him. He’s a rail-thin boy who can’t be much older than us. “Is this man bothering you?”

  Aaron and I both bite our lips to keep from laughing. “No, we’re fine.”

  “Sorry,” he says, seeing his mistake. “I heard someone talking about pepper spray so I thought he was a stranger bothering you, but clearly you’re both—”

  “It’s fine,” Kat says, cutting him off from having to explain his thought process. “He may be strange, but he’s no stranger.”

  “Nope,” Aaron says, wrapping an arm around me. “I’m not a stranger. I’m a perfect stranger. Isn’t that right?”

  “Perfectly crazy,” I respond, pushing him away.

  “Sorry again,” the library worker says. “But please do remember to keep your voices down.”

  “Got it,” Aaron says, but then he turns to me and whispers. “Besides, we know where to go if we need to make some noise.”

  “You’re terrible,” I say and slap his arm again. But as embarrassing as that whole interaction was, and despite being terrified that we would be caught and kicked out earlier in the study pod, I can honestly say that I’m happy. Really and truly happy. And that’s not something I’ve been able to say for a long time.

  Chapter 1

  Penny

  Tuesdays are the worst.

  My father died on a Tuesday. Killed in combat in some Afghani town I still can’t pronounce. His military funeral was on a Tuesday too. The rain did nothing to hide my mother’s tears.

  She passed away on a Tuesday. That was two years and a half years later after a two-bottles-of-wine-a-day habit clashed with her penchant to pop whatever pills she could steal from neighbors’ bathrooms.

  My brother’s the one that found her OD’d on the bed. I don’t remember what day her funeral was on. It might have been a Tuesday. The bottle of vodka I snuck from Brent’s room smudged all memories of that horrid day. Brent was five years older than me, so when mom was gone, it was only natural that I moved in with him. I was a senior in high school, so it was only meant to be temporary. I was going to move out as soon as I graduated and could find a job. But I was still living there four years later when my brother went on his second tour. It was going to be his last one. He was supposed to finally be done with serving. Discharged with honors and a steady paycheck that would open up doors for whatever he wanted to do with the rest of his life. Instead, he died in an IED blast. That was on a Sunday, but it was a Tuesday when one of his superior officers showed up at the door to let the next of kin know of his end.

  That was six months ago. I should have moved out of his house when the rental contract was up, but I couldn’t move on. This place is the last connection I have to him. It’s the last connection I have to any family. I’m not only an orphan; I’m a brotherless, sisterless, friendless orphan. Not much room for making buddies when each milestone of your life is marked with death, despair, and depression.

  I thought I was getting better. Improving. Finding myself after losing everything. I’m still enrolled in courses at the local community college, but I haven’t gone to class since the first day of the semester. At this rate, I’ll never move onto a real university. It’s not like my job is ever going to pay me enough to even think about transferring somewhere to a school with more than one squat building.

  Not like I should be complaining about my job. Working at the car wash at least keeps me in my brother’s old house. At twenty-two years old, my life has leveled out. It’s just too bad that leveling out means hovering just above rock bottom, living paycheck to paycheck, and having no life outside of work, ramen, and Netflix.

  At least, I thought life was stable. That the only way things could get worse was if I lost my job, my house, and the last scraps of my will to live. I should have known my false sense of security would shrivel up on a Tuesday.

  It’s always Tuesdays.

  This one doesn’t give me any warning.
No time even to stumble into the bathroom after waking up. No, the knocking at my front door is too insistent to put off. I try retreating under the blankets, hoping that whatever religion or salesman is on my porch will give up.

  But they don’t.

  With a grumble and plenty of swearing under my breath, I throw the blanket off and stomp to the door. I pull it open, a torrent of abuse ready to fall from my mouth. But instead of an annoying stranger trying to sell me on something, a familiar face waits just outside.

  “You’re Penny, right?”

  We’ve never met before, but I know him from my brother’s letters and a photo he sent of his squad or whatever they call it. This was the guy standing next to him, arm slung over Brent’s shoulder. We’ve never even spoken, but I remember his name. He was the center of nearly every story my brother told me from his time in the military.

  “You’re from Brent’s squad.” It’s not a question. “Roy, right?”

  “Yeah,” he answers, shifting his weight under the huge olive drab duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Even under his t-shirt, his muscles bulge with the exertion. “Me and Brent were in the same unit. He told me a lot about you.”

  I wait for him to go on, to explain why he’s suddenly shown up, but he stops talking there. I get the impression that he’s not used to talking more than one or two sentences at a time.

  Without thinking how rude my words might come across, I ask, “What are you doing here?”

  “He never told you?”

  “Never told me what?”

  Roy shifts the duffle bag to his other shoulder. His huge arms ripple under his short sleeves. He grimaces, looks behind him at his truck in my driveway. “I knew this was stupid.”

  “What didn’t Brent tell me?” I can’t hold back the desperation. All this time I’ve stayed back in his shitty three-bedroom, just trying to hold onto any scrap of his memory. Now one of his best friends is here, telling me there’s something Brent was supposed to tell me.