Touch: The Complete Series

by Cara Dee

  By the time it's three o'clock, the pews have been filled with guests, and the bells ring before the traditional wedding march begins. The four bridesmaids and then Amanda walk down the aisle to take their places at the front. Brian, Amber's fiancé, is a man I think Amanda wishes I were more like. He wants the white picket fence, the dog, the minivan, and the 2.5 children. Amanda never shies away from talking about all the things Brian does for Amber.

  The ceremony is over pretty quickly, and then we all pile into our cars and drive over to the hotel where the reception is. The wedding party will arrive separately in two limos, so I wait outside the hotel for Amanda to show up. In the meantime, a few guests approach me and ask if I'm the man Amanda has spoken so highly of. That makes me cringe inwardly; I had no idea Amanda's been talking about me to her extended family. Parents and siblings—I get that, but aunts and grandparents? I sigh to myself and struggle to keep the polite smile on my face.

  More guests trickle in. I remain outside, standing a little to the side with all the smokers.

  "Mr. Ford?"

  Shocked to hear that voice, my head snaps to the left so fast that it almost hurts. Fucking hell. It's Kayla. Kayla, whose number I now have in my phone. I wasn’t supposed to see her again until I was officially unattached. Now, not only is she here, but she's dressed to the nines—as if she's a guest at a certain wedding. Her dress reminds me of the white one Marilyn Monroe wore, though this one is silky and dark blue.

  I don’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved, though she's incredibly gorgeous as always. Her auburn hair is down, pigtails only a memory. The wispy curls tease me by resting on her chest. Meeting her gaze again, I see that she's equally shocked to see me here.

  "Kayla," I say quietly, taking a step closer. I definitely don’t want people to hear us. "What are you doing here? Are you a guest? I didn’t see you at the church." Then again, I arrived early and I was sitting in the front. She could've gotten there later, and amongst hundreds of people… Never mind.

  "Wait…" Her eyes widen like she's figured something out. "Your girlfriend… Are you the Nick my cousin's been bragging about? Amanda Stevens?" She looks at me in disbelief; meanwhile, I pinch the bridge of my nose and curse internally at this turn of events. They're related, for fuck's sake. "Oh, my God," she whispers shakily, "your girlfriend is my cousin. I can't believe this."

  Neither can I, but when I see two limos pulling up to the curb, I know this isn't the time to dwell on that.

  "We'll talk about this later, all right?" I look over Kayla's shoulder as the wedding party exits the cars.

  "Hang on." She grasps my arm and gives me a pleading look. "You haven't spoken to her yet, have you?" My brows furrow. "You can't. Don’t—" she shakes her head quickly and purses her lips "—don’t break up with her."

  I nearly choke on saliva. "Excuse me?"

  She blows out a frustrated breath and looks behind her before facing me again. "She hates me. If you end things with her, and I'm the reason…" A dark, shaky chuckle escapes her. "I'm already the black sheep of the family." At my confused expression, she goes on. "Long story short: my mom and dad died when I was thirteen; Amanda and Amber's parents took me in. From the start, those two loathed me. I-I can't get into all that now, but let's just say I wasn’t the perfect little girl—I didn’t fit into their family."

  I arch a brow, finding the irony a bit entertaining, no matter how ill-timed it is. Perfect little girl. To me, that’s exactly what she is.

  "I only see them a couple times a year, at reunions." She actually looks close to panic. "I didn’t even want to be here today, but Aunt Mary insisted." She's referring to Amanda's mother. "I'm lucky I got out of the rehearsal dinner, really." Now she's rambling like she did yesterday, something I find incredibly endearing. Though, it's time to cut her off. Amanda has already spotted us.

  "Quiet, sweet girl," I urge her softly. "Amanda's coming over." And she doesn’t look happy.

  Kayla stiffens but manages to plaster a smile on her face as that almost ex-girlfriend of mine reaches us.

  "I see you've already met my Nick," Amanda drawls and slips her arm around my waist. Her other hand slides up my chest, which I can't say I appreciate. "Long time no see, Drifter." She smirks condescendingly, causing me to frown. I have never seen an ounce of maliciousness in her before today. "I'm surprised you made it."

  Next to Amanda, Kayla suddenly appears to be tiny—so much shorter than she already is. This isn't the type of vulnerability I like. Kayla is honestly intimidated by her cousin.

  "Hello, Amanda," she mumbles, wringing her hands awkwardly. "It was a beautiful wedding."

  "I know," Amanda sighs. Then she faces me with a bright smile. "How about we go inside, handsome? I want to have a drink with you before we split up again." Right. We're not at the same table. She's seated with the wedding party, and I will be a couple tables away with the other bridesmaids' and groomsmen's spouses. "Oh, and I must introduce you to my parents. They're dying to meet you."

  Before I can get a word in edgewise, she's already dragging me along. I do manage to send Kayla a pointed look that says this isn't over, and then I pull away from Amanda a little and follow her into what can only be described as a ballroom. It's straight out of an overblown fairy tale with billowy fabrics, chandeliers, and a pompous interior in gold, beige, and white. Round tables are scattered around the dance floor, the finest china and silverware practically sparkling on expensive-looking cloths.

  "Why do you insist on this?" I grit out quietly as we walk across the floor. Straight ahead, I can see an older couple, and judging by the way Amanda looks at them, I'd say they're her parents. "You know exactly what I want to talk to you about."

  "Stop it," she hisses. "Don’t make me look like a fool tonight." She glares at me, our pace slowing until we come to a complete stop in the middle of the dance floor. "My entire family is here, Nick. I don’t see them very often. Now my sister's married; she's successful, and—"

  "You think by coming here alone…it would paint you as a failure? You're unbelievable." I'm fucking shocked, truth be told. While I've noticed that Amanda is a competitive woman, this goes beyond that. I'm merely here so she can look good in front of her family. "This is why you've pushed, isn't it? Why you've been so insistent that we move in together. More for you to tell your parents."

  "Oh, please." She scoffs. "You're going too far. We love each oth—"

  "Don’t finish that sentence," I seethe.

  It feels entirely wrong to speak about love when it comes to us. The past four months don’t just disappear; we definitely shared something good in the beginning. She even made me feel better than I did before her. But I'm finally able to see that’s the extent of it. We've both been so into this for the wrong reasons; we've used each other. I can't deny what I really want, and Amanda…well, I actually don’t have a fucking clue. Maybe she's only after success—more milestones to tick off. Me, on the other hand? I want to see if there can be more with Kayla.

  "Introduce me as whatever you want," I tell her, shaking my head, "but once this night is over, so are we."

  "Don’t overreact," she beseeches and grasps my forearms. "We're good together, Nick."

  At this point, I don’t think it matters what I say. Luckily—or unluckily, depending on how you look at it—we're interrupted. By her parents.

  "Mom! Dad!" Amanda's bright smile is back, and she proceeds to introduce me as her boyfriend. In turn, Mr. and Mrs. Stevens say it's a pleasure to meet me after hearing so many stories. I'd be freaked out about how animated Amanda gets when she speaks—how terrific of an actress she is—had I not been too disappointed in us both. Because I find it a bit disheartening how easy it is to let her go.

  Shouldn’t it be harder? Or does the possibility of returning to the lifestyle I've craved—perhaps with Kayla—mean that much, when it hasn't even been twenty-four hours since we met? That puts things into a new perspective, and we, Amanda and I, obviously haven't been worth
much as a couple.

  *

  The dinner is in full swing when I leave my seat and walk over to Table Nine across the room. It's where Kayla is sitting, and for the past half hour, she's looked positively miserable. I've tried to catch her gaze, but she hasn't looked my way even once, and I want to reassure her—protect her.

  Reaching her table, I dip down and murmur in her ear. "Come with me." I've startled her, and when she finally looks up, she appears nervous and unsure.

  Wedding guests all around us are busy being cheery in their festive mood; no one turns their head as I take the lead. Yet, I can practically feel someone staring a hole in the back of my neck, and it's not Kayla. But I don’t look back.

  "Where are we going?" Kayla asks behind me, following at my quick pace. "She's going to notice you're gone, Nicholas." That’s the first time I've heard her say my name. I like it. Correction: I love it. However, I want something else right now. "Are you gonna answer me?"

  I smile and round a corner; she keeps up. "Someplace private."

  I hear the breath she releases.

  Doubting we can find privacy on the first floor, I head toward the elevators in the lobby. It's when I press the button that I realize how tightly wound I am. My back feels rigid, my shoulders are stiff, my neck is strained, my jaw is clenched, and my hands are balled into fists. I'm all over the place, overwhelmed by thoughts that have been swimming in my head since yesterday.

  The elevator to my right dings, followed by the doors sliding open, and I quickly usher Kayla inside.

  Classical music plays in the car, though it does nothing to calm the storm raging in me.

  Kayla looks up at me, apprehension clouding her features. I take a step toward her after pushing the button for the top floor. She bites down on her lip. I swallow hard. Another step. My eyes drink her in. She backs into a corner. I stalk her like she's my prey. Christ, I fucking want her.

  "Nicholas?" she whispers, eyes wide.

  I shake my head slowly. No. Not this time. There's another name I need right now.

  She gulps as I reach her. "D-Daddy?" Her voice is so small, so vulnerable, so fucking sweet.

  "That's the one," I murmur and dip down to nuzzle her soft cheek. While one hand slides back to cup her ass, my other ghosts across her stomach, up her tits, over her chest, until I hold her jaw in a firm grip. "Fuck, you smell good." I breathe her in, and her sweet scent works to calm me down, if only marginally. "I've been aching to touch you."

  She whimpers and fists my shirt.

  "Do you want Daddy to touch you?" I ask softly, nipping at her earlobe. "So much to get lost in." My voice has lowered to a whisper. "This ass," I hiss and palm her ass roughly.

  She moans.

  "Daddy wants to fuck you." For emphasis, I pull her closer so she can feel my cock against her stomach.

  "But," she breathes out.

  I shake my head just as the elevator comes to a stop. "No buts." Taking a step back, I regard her face. "Unless you don’t want—"

  "You know I do." Her chest heaves, lust evident in her eyes. "But what about…?"

  "It's being handled." Grabbing her hand, I guide her out of the elevator, and then we walk briskly down the hall. Anybody could be leaving their rooms at any point, and I don’t give a flying fuck. There's a small nook between two rooms where an ice machine is, and that’s where I press Kayla up against a wall. There's no waiting. No hesitation. I crash my mouth to hers and swallow her gasp.

  Tilting my head, I kiss her deeply as I reach down and grab on to the backs of her thighs. I groan as she hitches both legs around my hips instinctively. In response, I grind my cock against her pussy.

  She giggles breathlessly, a sound that makes me shudder in pleasure. I notice it in her movements, in her expression, and in her sounds; she's slipping into character, though that particular word rings wrong. It's not a damn character. It's who she is. And I'm…

  "Daddy." That giggle will be the death of me. "There's something hard poking me in my tummy."

  I freeze.

  Breathing heavily, I stare into her eyes, my own eyes hooded and ready to devour, and it's like my mind resets.

  No, definitely not a character—for either of us. We're letting go, that’s all.

  We have so much to talk about.

  "I want to try…" I whisper. "This—you and me. See if there's more."

  She smiles. "So do I."

  I nod, thinking about the things we need to discuss before we take this any further. "Then, let's do it right."

  She's confused, I can tell, but she won't be for long. I need her to know she can trust me, that I will take care of her properly, and that she can depend on me. All of that will take time, and I can't even begin to be that person right here. Not in a hotel corridor, and not with a wedding reception going on fifteen floors below.

  Reluctantly, I lower her to her feet. "Come home with me," I request and kiss her softly. "I want to play with you. Start getting to know you."

  Her smile is tender. "I want that. But—" that smile morphs into something salacious and mischievous "—I want to take care of you, too." Deft little fingers work my belt and pants. I'm once again frozen in place. "Pretty please, Daddy?" She bats her lashes and sinks to the floor, at the same time pushing down my pants and boxers.

  Fuck me. I groan internally and scrub my hands over my face. "Right here? Now?" Public sex is a major turn-on, but a bit more is at stake here. We haven't established anything yet; everything is up in the air.

  "I want it." Ah, the pout.

  With a shake of my head, I chuckle and tap her jaw. "Fine. Open up." She does, and I grip my cock, smearing the bead of arousal over her upper lip. "Lick that off." And she does it slowly, my naughty little baby. Placing one hand on the wall right behind her, I brace myself and swiftly push my cock deep. She gags a few times, to which I murmur sweet nothings about how good it feels. In the end, she relaxes completely and swallows. "Just. Like. That." Good fucking God.

  My free hand goes to the back of her head before I begin to thrust in and out of her hot little mouth. She soaks me in saliva and makes cute yummy noises, and I discover she's a suckler. When I slowly pull out, she suckles the head of my cock as if she's desperate for my come to reach her taste buds.

  "Greedy," I moan, letting my head loll back. My hips push forward, and she swallows repeatedly before I pull back again.

  Threading my fingers through her silky hair, I control our movements and focus solely on my own pleasure. I savor, revel…feel how her tongue flicks, luscious lips tighten, throat constricts, and teeth graze. She's so eager to please. One hand cups my balls, altering between caressing and massaging. The other slides up and down the backside of my thigh, nails scraping gently, teasingly, against my skin.

  "You like to suck cock, don’t you?" I ask quietly, my chin almost dropping to my chest. My brows are furrowed in concentration; there's no movement, expression, or sound I want to miss. I grit out a moan when she bobs her head in an eager little nod. A whisper of a smile plays on her mouth, but Daddy's cock is in the way. "God…look at you." I move my hand from the back of her head to her face. As I give a particularly hard push into her mouth, my thumb ghosts over her wet bottom lip. She hollows out her cheeks and sucks me perfectly, and I trace the indentations with another finger. "Such a beautiful little cocksucker."

  In the background, I hear the ding of an elevator arriving.

  I don’t stop fucking Kayla's mouth.

  She doesn’t stop sucking me.

  "Good girl," I whisper down to her.

  As someone passes the nook we're in, I keep my gaze locked with Kayla's. It's an unbreakable bond. Eyes smoldering as my glistening cock keeps moving in and out of her. The gasp followed by the rapid clicking of heels we hear doesn’t faze us, either. We know it's not a wedding guest; fifteen floors take longer to search through than this. And we don’t give a shit about the rest.

  "I'll give you my come soon, baby." I keep whispering and caressin
g her face. My strokes slow down, yet I go deeper. The ridges of my erection look like shiny trails, and when her teeth graze over me, it feels too fucking good.

  Too fucking good, too fucking good.

  I close my eyes and clench my teeth together; my jaw tightens. "Now, Kayla." Speeding up, I fuck her perfect mouth faster and faster as the orgasm takes over. Down her throat, my cock throbs with each stream of come. One, two, three…and a fourth slides down, each sucked out by the sensation of her throat muscles contracting around me. Shudders rip through my body—another moan here and there. And Kayla, the good girl that she is, licks me clean like a cute little kitten.

  The club… I can't wait to go back there with her by my side.

  "Thank you, Daddy," she says sweetly as I try to regain my breath. I don’t move, still bracing myself against the wall, when she tucks me back into my boxers, my pants, and lastly fastens my leather belt again. "I really needed that." She finishes with that giggle of hers, and I help her off the floor, a small grin on my face.

  "Adorable," I murmur and kiss her softly on the lips. "Ready to go back to my place now?"

  "Mmm, yes." She hums and snuggles into my chest.

  Chapter 4

  Not wanting any distractions around, such as hair products and blow-dryers that don't belong to me, I take Kayla to my guest bathroom instead of the master bath. The Jacuzzi is slightly smaller in here, but that works just fine.

  On the way to my apartment, we discussed safety, limits, and immediate plans, no longer caring about what we left behind. Our meeting has been…less than ordinary, and there will be ramifications with her family if she and I end up dating—which I find myself hoping for—but we don't want to rush. What we want is to give this an honest chance, and we'll enter our little relationship with eyes and minds open.

  I can no longer believe she's nothing but a representation of a fetish. The chemistry between us is undeniable; she can floor me with a look, and drawing out my need to care and dominate so strongly takes more than mere desire.