Southern Seduction

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Southern Seduction Page 17

by Alcorn, N. A.


  Kip

  “Mornin’, Mama,” I grumble as I walk up to her from behind. I lean around and give her a kiss on the cheek.

  “Mornin’, baby. You sleep well?” She turns the faucet off and grabs a towel to dry her hands.

  “As well as any other night, I guess. I feel a bit tired today for some reason, though.” I grab a mug and pour myself some coffee. “Dang, Mama, what smells so good?” I inhale deeply. Mmm ... it’s like a combo of vanilla and coconut or something.

  “I made an egg bake and the usual sides. We have pastries and breads left over from yesterday, so I didn’t have to bake nothin’.” She fans her hand around, indicating where the food is. “Now, Kip.” She slaps my bare chest. “Why are you walkin’ round here half naked?”

  “I’m looking for my favorite shirt.” I shrug.

  “Oh, well, go into the laundry room. I got the new girl ironin’ a bunch of yer shirts ‘til I can figure out what else to do with her.” She shakes her head passively.

  “New girl?” I pop a piece of bacon in my mouth.

  “Yep. Hank Johnson done sent his niece to work for us.” She sighs.

  “I didn’t realize we were hirin’.” I look at her strangely.

  “Me neither.” She gives me a look that says it all. Old Hank Johnson is pushing his damn weight around again. Asshole!

  “I’d like to give that Hank Johnson a piece of my mind!” I seethe. I don’t know why my parents—or anybody in this town, for that matter—put up with that pompous ass!

  “Oh, don’t let him get to you, son.” She pats my shoulder and gives me a sympathetic smile. Mama has always been in agreement with me on this matter. She, too, fought with my father many a time, wishin’ he would stand up to that bastard. She may be all woman, but I definitely get my balls from my mother. You’d never know it by looking at her, but this feisty lady has got herself a pair larger than most of the men I know around here! “Now go down and get your shirt before you have all the female guests trippin’ over their own feet lookin’ atcha!” She laughs.

  “You proud, Mama?” I flex my bicep for her.

  She laughs and smacks my arm. “Git!”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I kiss her cheek again and head down to the laundry room.

  Christ, I wonder how long we’re gonna have to keep this girl on for. I hope she don’t get in the way around here. I take in a deep breath to cool my temper about the reason behind her employ before I open the door. I’m smacked in the face with the smell that captured my attention out in the kitchen.

  “Is that you?” I ask before I even lay eyes on her. Our laundry room is shaped like an “L” due to the cabinetry, so I haven’t seen her yet. I walk around the bend to find a tall woman with long, straight red hair. My eyes, because I’m a guy, travel down the length of her. Holy hell with the goddamn curves. I feel my cock twitch despite the tightness of my jeans. I mentally try to calm him down. The backside might look good, but there could be a whole mess of wrong on the front. Wow, I can be an ass. “Is that you?” I ask again, as the scent has gotten even stronger.

  “Last time I checked,” she says, almost under her breath, as she turns to me. Holy hell. She’s beautiful. Her skin is flawless—like an angel. Her eyes are the color of an olivine rock. What? I like rocks. Her lips are so full ... so plump. I hope our kids have her nose.

  “What the hell?” I shake my head.

  “What?” She takes a step away from me. I bring my eyes back to hers.

  “What what?”

  “You asked, ‘What the hell?’” She gives me a strange look. Slowly, her eyes begin to travel down, taking in my chest. She licks her lip, and I imagine her licking my—“Did you need something?” She brings her gaze back up to mine.

  “There’s a lot of things I need, baby girl.” I put my sexy swagger attitude on full blast. She rolls her eyes. Wait!—She rolled her eyes?

  “Don’t call me that. I’m not your baby girl. My name is Shelby, and that’s how you will address me.” She blows at some of the hair that has fallen in her face. I stare at her in shock. “I’m guessing, from the lack of clothes, that you need a shirt.”

  “I’m shirt.” I hold out my hand. I’m feeling sorta floored by this woman.

  “Your name is ‘shirt’?” she asks me. Her eyes seem to be full of amusement.

  “Yes. I need a Kip.”

  “You need a what?”

  “A shirt!” I say louder. I’ve now just realized what a fumbling idiot I’ve become.

  “So your name is not ‘shirt’?”

  “No!” I snap and grab my favorite blue plaid from the clothesline.

  “So your name is Kip, then?”

  “Yes! What’s it to you, anyhow?” I throw on my shirt and begin buttoning it.

  “You don’t have to be a jerk about it.” She grabs the next shirt and throws it down on the ironing board.

  “Hey, you jus’ watch how yer talkin’ to me. Jus’ ‘cause Johnson is yer uncle don’t mean I’m gonna put up with any of yer shit!” I bring my fist down on the ironing board for emphasis.

  She jumps slightly and turns back to me. “Just because I’m that asshole’s niece—by marriage, mind you—doesn’t mean you get to take whatever he’s done to piss you off out on me!” She gets in my face.

  “Fuck—you smell good, Shelby,” I say in a toned-down pissed-off manner. She gasps a little. Our faces are barely an inch apart, and we seem to be in a rapid-breath competition. My eyes track hers, back and forth. I glide my tongue from my mouth to lick my bottom lip, but it slides out a little too far and brushes hers a bit. My eyes dart down to her mouth. Her lips are so plump and pink, without a smidge of gunk on them. Man oh man, do I want to kiss those lips. The way she’s looking at me, I have a feeling she’s battling the same need.

  “Kip! You in here, son?” Mama shouts from around the corner. Shelby and I both jump out of our moment. That was a moment, right?

  “Yeah, Mama!” I call back. “Just gittin’ my shirt and introducin’ myself to Shelby here.” I quickly finish buttoning up without tearing my eyes away once from hers. She looks perplexed, as if she’s trying to shake a thought away. If she’s thinking what I’m thinking, I know exactly what she’s so perplexed about.

  “Well, get a move on, son. Your group’s gonna be waiting on you!” she harps out, and I’m guessing she leaves after saying her piece.

  “Group?” Shelby asks, then turns back to the ironing.

  “Yeah, we have a Boy Scout troop stayin’ with us for few days. I’m teachin’ them how to be cowboys.” That oughta get her panties wet. Jesus, Kip! Sure, why don’t you add on a fourth Johnson girl?! Her chuckle pulls me out of my thoughts.

  “Why you laughin’?” I grab her arm and turn her back to me.

  She looks at my hand. “Kindly let me go, sir!” She stares me straight in the eyes, like she’s ready to pounce if I don’t listen.

  I let go. “Aw heck, don’t call me ‘sir.’ I’m not a forty-year-old man.”

  “No ... you’re a cowboy,” she says, her eyes wide with laughter.

  “I am a cowboy,” I say, and suddenly feel stupid because of the damn stereotype out there.

  “You are.” She nods in agreement. “And I’m the sheriff, only—my star badge is being polished right now so it’ll be nice and shiny.”

  “You spend a day with me, seeing what a cowboy does, and you’ll change your tune.” I practically pin her against the ironing board with my body.

  “You have a real problem with invading a person’s space, don’t you?” She turns her face away from me and looks down.

  “Only when that person smells as good as you do, and looks as pretty as you do.” I pull a strand of her hair between my fingers and play with it.

  “Get your hands off of me and get out of my face!” She smacks my hand away and pushes me back. I ain’t gonna lie—I’m baffled. I have never had a girl react to my charms like that. Usually, they react just the way I’m wantin’ them to. I’m sli
ghtly turned on and slightly pissed off, and both of those “slightly”s are igniting the fuck out of each other.

  Shelby quickly straightens up and starts putting things away.

  “What are you doin’?” I ask, finally getting myself together.

  “I’m fixing everything the way I found it, since I’m probably fired now.” She continues on.

  “Whoa.” I take her arm again, careful to be gentle. “I’m not like that, Shelby,” I say softly. Wow. I can’t believe how disrespectful I was just now.

  “You’re not?” She eyes me.

  “No.” I let go of her arm. “I’m really sorry. I should’ve minded my manners.”

  “Well ... okay, then,” she says hesitantly. “Let’s just move on.”

  “Let’s start over.” I hold out my hand. “Shelby, I’m Kip Taylor, and it is very nice to make your acquaintance.”

  She places her hand in mine and I bring it up to my lips to kiss the top.

  “I think that’s still a little overboard for the whole employee/employer relationship.” She tries not to smile, but those eyes of hers are sparklin’. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too. I guess I’ll see you around the ranch, then.” She lets go.

  “You can count on it.” I give her one of my smirky smiles all the girls love. Except this girl, so it seems. Shelby just turns back to the ironing, apparently unaffected. I stand there for another second or two, taking in the sight of her. Christ, she’s a beauty. She’s got a temper that matches that red hair of hers. Red. “See ya later, Red.” I smile at my nickname and leave before she can give me hell for it.

  I get to the kitchen just as Mama sets my plate down. “You better eater faster than you normally do.” She gives me the same look she always does when she knows I’m up to something no good. “Those scoutmasters already got those boys linin’ up for ya.”

  “Thanks, Mama.” I kiss her cheek and take my seat. I fork my egg and shove it into my mouth.

  “Now, Kip, I didn’t say to go an’ make yerself choke on it, son!” She swipes the back of my head. I give her a full-mouth grin and wink. Her smile, the one she’s trying to hide, hits her eyes. Mama’s got pretty hazel eyes that sparkle, and a smile that always ignites others to match it. She’s tough as nails, but has a tender heart. She’s my best friend. What? So, I’m a mama’s boy. I’m not one of those pathetic ones. I’m a man’s man sorta guy, but my mama’s top notch. No one could ever take her place or come between us. The girl who ever tries would be in for rude awakening. “Whatchu thinkin’ ‘bout, son?” She tilts her head at me.

  “Thinkin’ ‘bout how much I love my mama.” I sidearm her to bring her in for a little hug.

  “Oh, you sweet talkin’ me for a reason?” She messes with my hair and sighs. “Boy, you need a haircut.”

  “The girls love my hair, Mama.” I wink and let go to finish eating.

  “Speakin’ of girls, what do you think about Shelby in there?” She nudges my shoulder with her hip.

  “Christ, Mama, is she pretty or what?” I shake my head before taking a swig of coffee.

  “She got more than beauty, son.” She moves the paper off the other chair to sit with me.

  “She’s a spunky thing, isn’t she?” I can hardly contain my smile.

  “I mean brains, you jackass!” She hits me with a rolled-up paper and laughs.

  “I think she hates that uncle of hers as much as we do.” I widen my eyes and pop a piece of bacon into my mouth.

  “You got that right, son!” She nods. “I like her.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I haven’t had a chance to really get to know her, obviously, but jus’ from the small exchange we had, I jus’ got that feelin’.” She nods as if she’s agreeing with her own train of thought.

  “What feelin’, Mama?”

  “She’s good people.” She steals a piece of toast from me.

  “Hey!” I tap her hand. “I’m a growin’ boy!”

  “Yeah…” she sighs, then brings her hands up to the sides of her face and expands them out like she’s got a growing head.

  “Now that just ain’t right, Mama! I thought I was yer favorite son.” I make a pouty face.

  “You are! You’re my favorite oldest son and,” she taps the table, “my favorite firstborn.”

  “Yeah. Yeah.” I chuckle.

  “We need to look after her, Kip.” She suddenly seems concerned.

  “What are you talkin’ about? Why would you say that?” I can’t deny that her unease definitely sparks my interest. Shelby, in general, sparks my interest.

  “Just a feelin’, son.” She sips her coffee. “She don’t belong over there with them Johnsons. She ain’t one of ‘em. He certainly ain’t gonna be treatin’ her like one.” She furrows her brow. “You ever see Hank Johnson let one of his daughters work, let alone make sure they got a job?”

  “No, ma’am.” Everybody knows Johnson don’t want his girls workin’. “What brought her here, anyway? Where she from?” Not around here—that’s for damn sure.

  “She’s from Vermont. She hasn’t really told me much, except she don’t have any kin left back east.”

  “Kin, Mama?” I laugh at her.

  “Oh, shut it, you!” She pushes my shoulder with her hand. I stop laughing. Coconut and vanilla. I inhale deeply and am pretty sure I’ve let out a little groan.

  “Um, Miss Alma, I’m done with the ironing. What would you like me to do next?” Shelby says from behind me.

  “Well, why don’t you fix yerself a cuppa joe and when everybody gets outta here, we can clean up from breakfast. All right?” Mama smiles at her.

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you,” Shelby says quietly.

  “Did you eat, baby girl?”

  Uh oh. I wait for Shelby to give Mama hell for calling her that.

  “No, ma’am.”

  “You mean to tell me that they sent you off without makin’ sure you ate?” Mama fumes, getting up from her seat.

  I’m awestruck. Mama’s heart is right there on her sleeve, all shiny, for Shelby. I ain’t never seen Mama take so quickly to a stranger before. I mean, yeah, she’s always kind, but she actually does care for her. Guess that feelin’ is real strong!

  “No, ma’am. I mean, they weren’t up when I left. I only got here last night, so I didn’t feel right going through their kitchen for breakfast.”

  “Kip, you better get going, son. They are waitin’ on you,” Mama says. I turn in my seat—finally. I was avoiding looking at Shelby for fear of not being able to leave. Our eyes lock as Mama pulls the curtain back from peering out the window. “Don’t they have staff over there?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the staff didn’t offer you anythin’?”

  “No, ma’am.” She brings her coffee up to her lips and, my God, I wish I was that mug.

  “Okay, rule number one, Shelby—you don’t start work around here ‘til after you sit down and have breakfast with us.” Mama fires up the stove. “You like eggs, baby?” She looks over her shoulder at her.

  “Yes, ma’am, but I’ll do it. You don’t have to cook for me.” Shelby heads over to the stove.

  “Nonsense!” Mama pushes her away gently. “I do the cookin’ around here. You go sit down at the table.” Shelby stands there—speechless, I think. “Go on!” Mama pats Shelby’s hip. Shelby smiles slightly and heads toward me, and I can’t help but notice my heart race a bit faster.

  “Here, let me move this for—shit!” I cuss as I clumsily knock over my coffee cup. What is it with this girl and me fumbling like a dang fool?!

  “Here, I got it!” she says as she grabs my right forearm to hold me back while she wipes up the mess with a towel. I stare down at her hand, mesmerized by how soft it is, how long and feminine her fingers are, and how quickly my cock twitched from such an innocent touch. My hand, purely on instinct, covers hers. My thumb parades around in a small, caressing circle. So soft.

  “Kip?” Mama places her hand on my shoulder.

/>   “Yes?” I ask, still making circles on Shelby’s hand.

  “You wanna let the poor girl go so she can eat?” She pats me.

  “Huh?” I look up at her.

  “Your hand, son.” She nods toward it. I follow her glance and whip my hand away as soon as I realize what I’ve been doing.

  “Shit. Uh ... sorry.” I jump to my feet. “I’m gonna head out now,” I say without even glancing at Shelby. I don’t want to know what I’d find if I looked into her eyes right now. I just made a complete ass out of myself.

  “Kip, don’t forget your—”

  I run out the door before Mama can even finish her sentence, grabbing my cowboy hat on the way.

  Damn, Kip! Pull it together!

  “Kip!” I hear a soft voice call out to me. I pause on my way to the stables and look to the left. Shit. May. I offer her a smirk and head on over.

  “Hey, Angel,” I say, low enough so that only she can hear.

  “Hi.” She smiles and looks down at her feet, then crooks her neck up to peer at me.

  Now, May is the shyest of the Johnson girls, but man oh man, is she a beast in the sack. I tell ya, there is some truth to that sayin’, It’s always the quiet ones.

  “What are you doing here, beautiful?” I run my finger down her arm, probably a little too intimately for being out here in the open.

  “I thought I stop in and see my cousin before I head into town.” She bites her lip as she watches my finger.

  “Who’s your cousin?” I get away with a lot when I play dumb.

  “Shelby,” she breathes.

  “You okay, Angel?” I ask as I inch closer.

  “Now, Kip!” She backs away.

  “Sorry, you just look so dang pretty in this dress, May. Makes a man think about what’s underneath it.” I lick my lips.

  “Kip,” she gasps before looking up into my eyes. I can see her pupils dilating. “You know what’s underneath it,” she says, seemingly trying to compose herself.

  “What’s underneath is mine, isn’t it, Angel?” I step forward again.

  “Yes, Kip. Now, back away before somebody sees somethin’,” she says nervously and looks around.

  Aw shit! She’s right. However, I’m not concerned with just anybody seeing—I’m concerned with Shelby seeing. Pretty silly, though, since I’ve only just met her. Then again, I’ve had a few silly thoughts and concerns already—what’s one more?

 

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