by Jordan Marie
“White!” Kayla cries, and I grin.
“Hear you? Why would anyone be listening to you two? That’s just silly,” she dismisses and I have to bite my tongue from pointing out that she obviously was listening last night.
“Let’s just let it drop, Mom. Kayla and I are good.”
“Fine, son. If you aren’t going to have your shake, at least have some watermelon,” she says, putting a large bowl of cut melon in front of me. I’m unsure what watermelon is supposed to do, but at least I know it will taste okay. I look over at Kayla and shrug. Ida Sue sits a bowl of melon in front of her too.
“Here you go, Buttercup,” she says loudly and then bends down between us. She drops her voice down a tone or two, but it’s still plenty loud enough for everyone to hear—especially Blue, who is right beside us. “Don’t worry. Watermelon is like nature’s Viagra.”
Kayla nearly chokes—suddenly looking at the watermelon in her hand as if it has grown three heads. Me? I may never look at watermelon the same again. I plop a whole piece in my mouth and leer at Kayla. I’m foreseeing becoming addicted to watermelon.
CHAPTER 35
KAYLA
"Oh, no. Stay away from me, White Hall," I order White when he comes out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel and a smile.
"No way."
"Yes way! We are not having sex with your mother listening to see if your soldiers make a successful swim."
"Into the lakes of Kayla Graham?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows like a dork, but looking so fine and sexy that he could melt any female around.
"Very funny. Now put on your jogging pants and let’s get some sleep."
Instead of listening to me, he half-jumps, half-falls onto the bed beside me, his stomach down. I try to ignore the curve of his ass and how beautiful it is. I even manage to resist the urge to squeeze it—barely.
"I'm sorry, Kayla, but I can't in good conscience go along with your plan," he says very solemnly, looking at me like he's completely serious, except his eyes are shining. The blue is filled with humor and mischief. This is the White Hall who I fell in love with as a kid and the White Hall who makes my heart smile now. White wears many faces in public, but I like to think that the big kid inside is only revealed to those he truly cares about.
"And why is that, dare I ask?" I question, shaking my head and trying to hold back a yawn.
"If I don't fuck you so hard that you literally make the neighbors call the cops, my mother will be trying to feed me more of that pea green soup from hell. That cannot happen."
"I am not having sex with your mom's ear pinned to the outside wall. That cannot happen," I counter. "Besides, I really am too tired for sex."
"You've left me no other choice, Buttercup," White says, getting up from the bed and going to the wall. He turns to the side to face the post on the headboard, holding it with his hands. It's hard to miss the way his dick comes out with the head curving down because, well… he's huge. How he ever fit inside me, I do not know. I really do have this voice in the back of my head questioning just how big he is every time I see him. He can't be the normal size of men everywhere. If he is, my past sex life is even sadder than I already thought it was.
"What are you going to do, White Hall? Hump the headboard? That watermelon really did do a number on you," I reply, trying to sound bored, and I'm pretty sure I'm failing—mainly because I'm wondering where I can find a tape measure.
"The only number that watermelon did to me today is keep me going to the bathroom—and not for usual fun. Watermelon is not nature’s Viagra. If anything, it's nature's Ex-Lax."
"Oh, God."
"It's true."
"With bedroom talk like this, I can't figure out why I'm not just raring to go."
"I know right? You should be bowing at my feet and calling me master."
"I think you have the wrong girl for that kind of fantasy."
"Story of my life," he says and then he grabs the post and slams it against the wall.
"What are you doing?" I hiss.
He smiles and then slams the wall with the post again.
"Oh fuck, baby, you feel so good," he groans. It’s not the voice he uses when we have sex, but it's a pretty good version. "That's it, Kayla, take all of me. Take it all," he groans and slams the headboard back again. This time it's harder than before and I think he might break the bed.
"White!" I shriek.
"Yeah, baby, I'm right here. That's it, open up for me. Take it all, Kayla! Take it all!"
"I can't believe you right now! There's kids in the house! They'll hear!" I hiss.
"There's not. River is at his dad's. Kayla, honey, I'm not drinking any more of that shit, or having Mom drum up something worse. So either play along or prepare for tomorrow," White whispers back.
Normally, I would ignore him at this point. This is Ida Sue we're dealing with, however. If she thinks White and I aren't having sex, what would be her next move? Renting porn? A sex therapist? Nothing seems too far out of the realm of possibilities with Ida Sue and that's the damn truth.
White slams the headboard back against the wall again and I find myself moaning, "That's it. Give it to me, Big Daddy!"
White's entire body goes solid. He looks over at me and mouths, "Big Daddy??"
I shrug.
"Jesus, Kayla!" he groans, and I start to know a minute of real fear when he smiles at me. He takes his palm and slaps it openhanded on the wall. "You're so hungry for my cock. You're going to break it off."
"Hungry for it?" I mouth back, and this time, he shrugs and looks way too satisfied with himself.
"You're beggin' for it, aren't you, baby? You've never had a dick as good as mine," he adds.
"Beggin' for it?" I mouth again, and I know he's trying to get to me. Maybe even embarrass me.
If I stop to think about his entire family listening to us, maybe I would be. Maybe I would die of mortification. Instead, the challenge I see in White's eyes spurs me on and, as usual when it’s the two of us involved, I forget the outside world. I stand up on the bed, stick my tongue out at him, and begin jumping up and down, smiling broadly as the mattress springs start squeaking. White gives me a look of approval.
"I am. God, I'm dying for your dick!" I groan, and this time, White's eyes go large. He grins like the big goofy child he can be at times.
"You want it that bad, baby? Bend over and I'll show you how a real woman takes it."
"Bend over?" I ask him silently.
In answer, White abandons his stance at the head of the bed and gets up on the bed with me. A nervous flutter sifts through my stomach as he gets next to me.
"My baby wants her ass fucked hard, doesn't she?" he asks, and my pussy literally contracts at the images he evokes, along with a fear. His cock is huge and, well… anal sex isn't something I ever even imagined trying—especially with White.
"Wrong hole. No. Just. No," I hiss, much quieter. "Besides, this is about making a baby, remember?" I tell him, pretty sure I'm trying to remind myself more than him.
"I'm claiming your ass, honey. And this has turned into much more than baby-making," he says back quietly. His voice rakes across my body, causing a strange curl of need to form in my stomach.
"No."
"Yes," he argues back.
"I said no," I mutter, forgetting our game.
"But you mean yes," he says with a grin, and this time, that grin pisses me off—mostly because he could be right.
"I'm pretty sure no means no," I grumble, ready to change the subject because my entire body feels flushed. "No, White! Don't come so fast. I'm not there yet!" I yell out as I look at White with what I hope comes off as a fuck-you look.
"You mean yes. I guarantee if I checked right now, you'd be dripping wet. And quit trying to be a bitch. It just makes me want to take that ass even more," he says, his hands moving from behind my back to grab my ass cheeks, squeezing them so tight I will probably bruise. "I’ve got you, baby. I know what you need. Daddy will alwa
ys give you what you need," he says and then he spanks me hard with one of his hands.
His words take away my breath. The burn from his spanking hurts because my ass is bare except for the shirt I’m wearing. Underneath the fiery burn, I can feel that knot of need and heat that he's started in my body grow. I want more. I've got a feeling I want whatever I can get—as long as it's White giving it to me.
I think about how he thinks he knows everything. His self-satisfied look annoys me. He thinks he knows me so well. He thinks he knows exactly what to expect from me. When he winks at me with another wise-ass grin, I feel the need to show him he’s not always in charge.
"Harder, White! I need it harder so I can feel every inch of those six inches you're packing!" I cry.
For a moment, I know what it feels like to have total victory over White. I'm euphoric at the disbelief on his face. It feels so good that I forget and bounce harder in happiness and victory. It's a fantastic moment—a moment that is soon over when there's a cracking noise and the bed gives way and falls.
We're tilted to an angle as the box spring and mattress beneath us slam hard on the floor. White falls back. He grabs me before I can fall the opposite way, wrapping me in his arms and protecting my body as we tumble backwards. I hear the breath rush out of White's body as we collide and his back slams against the floor. We lie still as he tries to take air back into his lungs. I'm too much in shock to move. Then, all at once, the door opens. We're hidden by the now-broken bed and I don't want to look. In fact, I go with my first instinct and bury my face in White's chest. He holds me tighter, but sits up so that I'm forced to go with him. We peek over the top of the mattress and there at the door stands Ida Sue, Jansen, Cyan, and Petal.
Kill me now.
CHAPTER 36
WHITE
“Are you still pouting?" Kayla asks me again.
I might be pouting a little. Cyan, Blue, Green, and Gray have all been calling me “little brother” all day thanks to her—and they're not talking about age. The fact that Blue, Green, and Gray weren't here last night means that Cyan has broadcast that shit far and wide. They've been calling me so much to see how their little bro is doing that I've turned my phone off. Sometimes coming from a large family sucks.
"I'm not pouting," I tell her. Admit nothing. Deny everything. It's a good motto to have.
"You could have fooled me. Okay, if you're going to be Mr. Grumpy Gus, I'll leave you to it. I'm going to ride with Cyan out to the north pasture to see the new baby calves."
"It's okay. I'll take you. I was just thinking I needed out of the house for a little while," I tell her. Hell if I'm going to let her be gone all day with Cyan. I'm not sure he thinks of Kayla romantically, but it's better to be safe than sorry. Besides, Kayla is way too innocent for his kind of crazy fuckery.
"You sure?"
"Positive. Let's go. We can take the side-by-side."
"Sounds good," she answers as I fall into step beside her. I reach out and hold her hand. After a second, she relaxes and her fingers entwine with mine. We walk towards the side shed that is attached to the barn. The key to the vehicle is on the wall there. Kayla gets inside as I check the gas and start it up. I lean over to fix Kayla's seatbelt. There's no way she's riding without it. Before I can move away, I feel her fingers on the side of my face, gently brushing through the stubble that's grown there.
"You need a shave," she whispers.
"What, you don't like the ruggedly handsome look?" I ask her, trying to lighten up the mood, because there's this thick undercurrent of emotion between us that could choke me.
"I like," she says, and her lips brush against mine. It's different from our other kisses. This one seems more emotional. It's soft. It's slow. Our lips don't demand; they caress, they taste, and the kiss feels natural and honest.
"What was that for?" I can't help but ask when we break apart.
"I missed you. You were gone when I woke up this morning."
"Turns out sleeping on the floor is rough on an old football player," I joke, starting the vehicle up and heading us out toward the northern end of the ranch.
"Your shoulder was hurting?" she asks, and the question hits me with brute force. I've been running. I'm tired of it.
"It's always hurting, honey. It rarely lets up, especially if I use it much."
"You didn't tell me."
"I didn't want you to worry. I go back to the doctor next week. Hopefully they can figure out what's going on and fix it. They're doing that new cryo-therapy too. I'll get it figured out."
"I'll come with you."
"You don't have to, Kay. I can handle this."
"I know I don't have to. I want to. Unless you don't want me there for some reason?"
"Of course I want you there. I wanted you last time, remember?"
"Yeah. I'm sorry I didn't take off work. I was afraid to because I had just started."
"You didn't want to lose your job, honey. I understood," I tell her, and I'm not lying. I did understand, but it did bother me that she didn't put me first. If the roles were reversed, I would have.
"A lot of good that did me. I really am sorry, White. If I had it to do over, I would."
"I know."
"What about… Rachel?"
I rub the tension in the back of my neck. I knew this conversation had to happen. I've been putting it off. It seems I can't do that any longer.
"Kayla, there's nothing between me and Rachel."
"I get it. I mean I've never been the type to indulge in casual sex, but I mean, it's not like we have a normal relationship and, well, if you—"
I stop the UTV while she's talking and before she can finish, I force her to look at me. I press my thumb up against her lips to stop her because if she finishes that sentence, the only thing she will accomplish is pissing me off.
"If you're going to give me the all-clear to sleep with your sister, you might want to shut your fucking mouth now, Kayla," I growl.
"What? No! God, that'd be gross."
"Then what the hell are you saying?"
"Just that if you find what we're doing here isn't something you want to pursue—"
"Kayla," I warn her.
"I'm serious, White. You didn't want a kid and I'm not sure why you agreed to all of this, but—"
"Shut. The. Fuck. Up."
Her eyes go large, but she doesn't say anything further, which is good—damn good.
"I never slept with Rachel. I saw the doctor and the news wasn't great. I was depressed and needed someplace to sink my sorrows in a bottle. I was drunk off my ass and she was at the bar. It was just one of those weird things that happened."
"Like fate."
"Fuck no. More like a reason to not drink and be an asshole. Shit, honey, I'm not even sure how I ended up crashing at her place. The night is a blur, but I can tell you that we absolutely did not sleep together."
"You don't have to say that, White. I mean—"
"Kayla, sweetheart, listen to me. I promise you. We did not sleep together."
"Okay," she whispers, and I'm not sure she believes me. I want to push her into trusting me and believing what I say, but since I don't have any plans to ever deal with Rachel again, I guess it's not important. Besides, I wasn't lying to her. The entire night is a blur. I didn't sleep with her though, and I know that. I wasn't in any shape to, for one. And for another, I've never liked Rachel, which is why I'm mad at myself for being fucked enough for even crashing at her place.
"What do you say we drive down by the old pond and swim?"
"I didn't wear my swimsuit."
"That's what I'm counting on," I tell her with a wink. Time to step up my game, and talking about her fucked-up sister is not the way to do that. Getting her naked? That sounds like a much better plan.
CHAPTER 37
KAYLA
White brings the side-by-side to a stop by the old oak tree that, when I was younger, used to be my favorite place to sit and dream. I usually dreamed about White. He ne
ver knew that and I never planned on telling him. Right now though, I have the strongest urge to tell him everything.
“Kayla? You okay?”
I look around to see White standing on the ground looking through the opening of the UTV at me. I shake off my thoughts and smile at him.
“Just thinking. I loved this place when I was younger,” I tell him as I get out and walk to my favorite tree.
“I know. Whenever Mom couldn’t find you, she’d send one of us down to this pond to drag you back home.”
“This tree was my best friend growing up, even before Ida Sue gave me a home,” I tell him, placing one of my hands on the trunk as memories come back to me one by one.
“I thought that was me.”
“Ah, but there were things I couldn’t tell you. Secrets that were just between the tree and me. He’d hold me while I poured out my heart in ridiculous teen-angst-filled poetry in my notebook, or while I cried.”
“Cried? I don’t remember you being sad a lot growing up. Did you keep a lot hidden from me?” White asks, and I can tell the thought of me being upset hurts him.
“Every teenage girl is sad at some point, White—even without the family trouble I had.”
“I’ve been such an ass for so long. I thought we were there for each other, but I was blind to so much. I’m sorry,” he says, pulling me around to face him, his hand cupping the side of my neck. I close my eyes, my hand going over his. I breathe in his scent. “If I could go back,” he continues, “I’d move Heaven and Earth to give you the world.”
“Now you’re just being silly,” I tell him, but his words mean something. They answer a need in me from the little girl, and now the woman who has always wanted more from White, but never held out hope to receive it.
I slide down on the ground as White settles beside me, letting the tree support my back. White has his hand on my thigh, sitting close beside me. It seems surreal. How many times did I dream about this exact thing when I was seventeen?