All I Ever Wanted

by Marilyn Brant, Caisey Quinn, Rhonda Helms

  “I can only assume the parade of men in and out of your life equates working parts.”

  “Whatever. I’m getting dressed.”

  He crossed his arms, eyes glued to me. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

  I lifted my palms. “So leave?”

  “Nah, you seem pretty convinced that I don’t see you as a sexual creature. I think we’d both feel better if I watched that towel come off.”

  A hot flush rushed through me, all the way from my toes to the tops of my ears.

  “You’re blushing.” His lips quirked, and I could almost make out that dimple. “I didn’t even know you did that.”

  If he was going to play this game, I could give it as good as I got. “Have it your way then, Kennedy.” I dropped the towel onto the floor and put on my biggest smile as I pushed past him. I could feel his eyes on me, and the silence in the room was palpable.

  Settling the bag on the edge of the bed, I unzipped it and found a pair of yoga pants and a tank top. I didn’t bother with underwear or a bra and took my time stepping into the pants and pulling the shirt over my head. Every movement felt heavy with significance, every second loaded with this ridiculous prayer that he was just about to spin me around and kiss me stupid.

  Of course, he didn’t.

  I carefully arranged my face into a smirk of indifference, as if I’d just won this little power play, but on the inside I was just like my old dog Paws, lying on the deck, miserable and wondering if it was really worth it.

  When I turned back, his eyes were on me—had he ever taken them off?—and his chest was rising and falling faster than normal. “You have new tattoos,” he whispered.

  I wanted to crawl under the covers. I had just stripped down to my birthday suit in front of Kennedy Hale, and all he was going to say about it was that I had new tattoos? “Do you object?” I grabbed the bottle of whiskey from his hand, our fingers brushing. If ever a moment called for liquid courage, this was it. “I still remember how annoyed you were when I got my first one.”

  “I wasn’t annoyed.”

  I screwed off the top of the bottle and took a swig. “Yes, you were. You said, and I quote, ‘How fucking stupid, Bree.’”

  “I was jealous you were more of a badass than me. That new one is hot. Come here.” Suddenly, his hands were on my hips and he dragged me in front of him.

  “What are you—”

  He stood behind me, his stance wide as he drew me between his thighs. Sliding his fingers into my waistband above my right hip, he turned me slightly and peeled the material down just far enough to expose my right ass cheek and my new infinity tattoo. He traced the symbol with his fingers. The gentle scrape of his calloused fingertips against my sensitive skin sent little shivers through me.

  “Let me guess. You’re jealous of that one too? I’ll tat your ass for you, Kennedy. You just say the word.” Just once I wanted to enjoy a moment without hiding behind my smart mouth, but I couldn’t help it. Defense mechanism or whatever.

  He traced the symbol once. Twice. By the third tortuously slow tracing, my legs were jelly. Then he took his hand away and released the waistband so it snapped back into place. My whole body cried out in protest.

  “There was another one too,” he whispered. His voice was deeper, rougher. Was I imagining that? His hand slid up my tank, searching for the tattoo at the base of my spine. My nipples pebbled tight at his touch. “Let me see this one.”

  I swallowed. Hard. Then pulled my tank up and held it under my breasts, leaving my lower back and stomach exposed. I stood there between Kennedy’s legs as he traced the vine at the base of my spine, following it around under my breasts. I wouldn’t let myself think or hope. I couldn’t. I wanted more too badly.

  He took another step closer, all but eliminating the air between our bodies. I couldn’t see him and didn’t dare look, but I his breath sent shivers through me as he lowered his mouth to my ear. “I don’t do impulsive,” he whispered, fanning his fingers over my belly. He pulled our bodies close together. “I do slow and methodical. I think about things.”

  His fingertip slipped under the waistband of my pants, and I gasped. “I think about things too.”

  “Did you think about sliding naked into my bed or was that an impulse?”

  An electric buzz shivered its way down my spine. “I told you I was sorry.”

  “I never asked for an apology.”

  Kennedy

  She’d dropped the towel. I’d baited her, and she’d taken it. I didn’t think my heart would ever recover from that moment. Her ass had just enough jiggle to it, and even though she’d kept her back to me as she pulled on her clothes, I got a glimpse of her bare breasts. They were small—it was something she always joked about—but they were perfect. She was perfect.

  For years, I had denied myself my feelings for Bree, but tonight I was done denying. Blame it on the whiskey. Blame it on the hurt in her eyes when she’d accused me of not noticing she was a woman. Blame it on the sexy tattoo on her ass that made my mouth water from wanting to bite it so badly.

  She stood stock-still as once more I traced the vine up her spine and around her ribcage. I could see the goose bumps rising on her skin, and it was more instinct than seduction that had me leaning forward and blowing against her spine. Her body shuddered toward me, and just like that, my mouth was on her, her skin warm under my lips.

  “Kennedy,” she murmured.

  I loved hearing my name on her lips. Bree saying my name, arousal making her breath come harder. I snaked my hand around the front of her body, following the path of the vine. She released her shirt and braced herself on the edge of the bed, bending slightly at her hips.

  A groan slipped from my lips, and I nipped at the base of her spine.

  I moved my hand slowly, wanting to memorize every inch of her soft skin. We were doing this. For better or worse, I was touching Bree, making her pant. The idea was equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.

  I cupped her breasts and bit back a moan at how good they felt in my hands. Dipping my head, I opened my mouth against her shoulder blade, scraping my teeth over the bone, skimming my tongue over her tattoo. She leaned back, rolling her backside against my erection as I rolled her taut nipples between my fingers.

  “You’re so fucking sexy, Bree.”

  She spun in my arms and went to work on the buttons of my shirt. God, were her hands shaking? She pushed it from my shoulders and let it drop to the floor. “It’s about time you noticed,” she said, and when she looked up at me again, I saw it. The vulnerability in her eyes. The fear behind the bravado.

  “You think I didn’t notice?” I pulled my undershirt off over my head so I could feel her breasts against my bare chest. Then I pressed my mouth to hers because the fear in her eyes was breaking my heart and I wanted to wash it away. She opened under me, kissing me with the same impatient greed I felt for her. Her hands slid into my hair. I cupped her face in my hands, trying to slow this down, trying to take back control. She was trying to be the careless seductress, but I wanted more than sex. I wanted in. I wanted…Bree.

  “You shouldn’t have bothered with the clothes,” I growled.

  She whipped the tank off over her head before I could get to it. Then she pushed me back until I was sinking into the chair by her bed and she was straddling my hips. I wanted to break through her shell, but I was so damn hard, my erection pressing against my jeans, and she gasped as she settled against me.

  Her lips parted slightly, she wrapped her arms around my neck. “What are we doing?” she moaned, rocking her hips against me.

  “Being impulsive,” I murmured.

  “Kennedy.” Then her lips were on me again, her body pressed close. My dick throbbed, aching with the tease in her movement. When she pulled back, her blue eyes had darkened and her lips were parted.

  “You’re so gorgeous.”

  She licked her lips and ran her gaze over my torso. “Likewise.”

  I liked this position. A
perfect view of her breasts. Easy access to her mouth. But I needed access to more of her. I slid my hands under her ass, holding her as I stood. In two long strides, I was lowering her onto her bed.

  She settled her hands above her head and grinned up at me. “Come here then.”

  “Not yet.” I’d lose myself if I started touching her now. Fuck. If she moaned loudly enough, I’d probably even go off in my jeans. I wasn’t willing for this moment to rush by. Not when I’d thought about it for so long.

  I touched each of her tattoos, starting with the vine under her ribcage, then moving to the four-pointed star inked over her heart between her breasts. “Do you have any others?”

  Her tongue darted out to wet her lips as she nodded. “The inside of my left foot.”

  I moved down the bed and lifted her foot. Right along the instep, a fine script said Carry on. “Fuck, Bree. Even your feet are sexy.” I pressed a kiss there, and she giggled.

  “Ticklish?”

  She propped herself up on her elbows, giving me a fabulous fucking view of her breasts. “Little bit.”

  It seemed wrong that I didn’t know that before. “Any others?”

  “Ankle.”

  I pushed up her yoga pants to find a braid tattooed like an anklet on her skin. I stroked it, slid my hands up her pant leg, massaged her calf. “Where else?”

  “Inner thigh,” she whispered.

  My breath left me in a rush. My eyes locked on hers. Her pupils were wide, turning her bright blue eyes dark. She lifted her hips off the bed, and I peeled the dark cotton off her legs.

  And just that quickly, she was naked again. Twice in the span of twenty minutes because apparently I was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.

  I loved looking at naked Bree. I loved the way she just lay there unashamed, with her arms over her head as I ran my gaze over her, from her face and her eyes to her breasts, to the flat of her belly, then finally to the softness of her bare thighs.

  “Let me see,” I whispered, grazing her hipbones with my fingertips.

  Her chest rose and fell as she slowly parted her thighs, exposing herself to me.

  I climbed onto the bed and dropped to my elbows between her legs, my face so close to her sex it had my head spinning. The tattoo was a snowflake the size of a silver dollar, but its design wasn’t the generic snowflake seen in winter decorations. The webbing was artful, intricate.

  “Did you do design this?”

  Her belly sank with her shaky exhale, and I traced the pattern. “Yeah.”

  “You’re so talented.” Then I removed my fingers and placed my open mouth against the design. She gasped. I parted her thighs farther and sucked on that sensitive spot until she whimpered.

  “Kennedy. Please.”

  “Even some impulses shouldn’t be rushed.”

  I trailed soft kisses over her body. I loved the dip in her collarbone, the soft, subtle swell of her breasts, and I tasted each, my tongue tracing the hills and valleys of her body, my mouth wrapping around the hardened peaks of her nipples. As I sucked, her back arched and her hands slid into my hair, tugging as she let out a soft little moan. It wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to make her lose control. I wanted to make her cry out while her body shook under my touch.

  I sucked harder at her breast and slid a hand between her legs.

  She drew in a little gasp as my fingers connected with the slick, sensitive flesh between her legs. Better. Closer. I could feel her unraveling. But I still wanted more.

  I pushed myself down, trailing my mouth across her stomach as I made my way between her legs. “I just can’t get enough of this spot.” I ran my fingers over the tattoo at her inner thigh then followed my touch with my mouth. I tasted her art with hot, open-mouthed kisses until I could feel the muscles in her thighs trembling under my mouth.

  Then I parted her legs and set my mouth to the slick, wet folds of her sex.

  She whimpered my name. God, I loved the breathy sound of it coming off her lips like that. Like she was wound tight, ready to come, and I was the only one who could get her there.

  I investigated her with my tongue before sucking her clit into my mouth and listening to the sweet sound of her cry. Her fingers found my hair and tugged me up. I obeyed the wordless command, moving my body up the bed until I hovered over her.

  Her kiss-swollen lips parted. Her cheeks flushed. I wanted to remember her like this. Her blue eyes softened as I looked down at her, the passion there weaved with tenderness that tore at something in my chest. I slid on a condom and settled over her again. She lifted her hips off the bed, rocking herself against my erection.

  Her name left my lips and my breath left my lungs as I slid into her. Hot and tight and amazing. I tried to take it slow, to give her time, but she shifted under me and drew her legs around my waist, pulling me deep, draining my restraint.

  I kept kissing her. I didn’t want to stop kissing her. So as our bodies moved, our tongues met again and again, and I abused her lips with my greedy mouth until she gasped against me, close to coming.

  Sliding my hand between our bodies, I found her clit and stroked it with my thumb until she squeezed me so tight I wasn’t sure I could get her there before I lost control.

  I drew back to watch her. “Come on, sweetheart. Let me feel you come.” Then I pressed deep, and she pulsed hard and tight around me and pulled me into the abyss with her.

  Aubree

  Things I could have guessed correctly if they’d been on a test:

  1. Kennedy Hale was a fucking spectacular lover.

  2. His lovemaking made all the other douchebags I’d slept with look like fumbling idiots.

  3. Now that I had him in bed with me, I never wanted to leave.

  His eyes were half closed, his lips a breath from mine. I didn’t ever want to leave this bed. I didn’t want to go back to the real world where nothing was simple. I just wanted to sit here with Kennedy’s scruff scratching my skin as he nuzzled the side of my neck.

  I ran my hands over the muscles of his back. I wanted to paint this man. To sketch him with charcoal. To bring him to life with pastels. He was so gorgeous, and if I could capture him in my notebook, I could take my memories to Paris with me. I sighed.

  The clock beside the bed read five-oh-nine, and if I wanted any hope of catching Everly’s show in Cleveland, I needed to leave now.

  “Come with me tomorrow,” he murmured.

  “What?”

  His brow was furrowed, as if he was thinking about something difficult. “We’re hosting a lunch for the board tomorrow. I want to tell them that I’m not coming home, that I’m going to take a chance with football.”

  I sat up. “Shut up.”

  “I’d rather not.” He grinned at me. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation here.”

  “Kennedy…” My throat was thick, and the words didn’t want to come out.

  “Maybe you can teach me something about taking a risk.”

  “You totally just made my day.”

  He winced. “Seriously, you can’t say that to a guy when the other part of your day was amazing sex.”

  Pushing him to his back, I straddled his hips and took his hands in each of mine. “Amazing, huh?”

  He grinned, running hungry eyes over my bare breasts. “Fucking spectacular. I’m not too proud to admit that. What about you?”

  I lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “It was all right, I guess.”

  “You’re killing me, Picasso.” His hands went for my sides, tickling me until I doubled over with laughter.

  “Slightly…better than…average,” I managed between squeals.

  His hands shifted from my sides to my ass and suddenly he was rolling us over so I was on my back and the delicious weight of his body was on top of mine. “In that case, I demand a rematch.”

  His kiss was firm and coaxing. As I parted my lips to taste him, he parted my thighs with one of his.

  I was going to be late for Everly’s performance. />
  Aubree

  Donuts downstairs for my junk food junkie. See you at the Pancake Breakfast. –K

  Yawning, I set the note back onto the nightstand, where Kennedy had left it for me. I climbed out of bed and padded toward the shower.

  I couldn’t stop smiling as I washed my hair and shaved my legs. When I’d gotten back to Kennedy’s house after the concert last night, the house was quiet. I climbed into his bed, and he was already there. He pulled my body against his before he set about seducing me with the slow movements of his deft hands and the heat of his mouth against my neck. We made love slowly and silently, our hands intertwined in the darkness.

  I took my time getting ready, a smile returning to my lips every time I thought of him, but by the time I headed to Village Hall, I was practically jogging, so anxious to see him again.

  From the lobby through the back door, Village Hall was usually bustling during the Pancake Breakfast, but the second I walked through the doors of the front entrance, I knew something was off. I could hear the clanking of dishes in the cafeteria beyond and smell bacon and maple syrup, but the typical chorus of gabbing friends was absent from the lobby.

  Kennedy and his parents were standing over at the mural, contemplating it in silence. My gaze shifted from them to the chalk mural and my breath caught.

  “They found it when they opened the hall this morning,” Kennedy said softly. “We’ll figure out who did it.”

  I felt arms come around me and smelled the cloying vanilla of Mrs. Hale’s perfume. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. It’s so terrible.”

  Yellow police tape cordoned off the area in front of the defaced chalk mural. Mom’s face barely recognizable with the B of “WANNABE” smudged across the portrait.

  “Kennedy,” Mrs. Hale said as she took her son’s arm. “Take Bree into the cafeteria. Looking at this is just going to upset her.”

  I couldn’t make my mouth form words to object. I wanted to tell her it didn’t matter. I wasn’t upset. But I’d grown up seeing my mom’s face in Village Hall. The Hales were on one side of the lobby, my parents on the other, to commemorate the families who’d funded the community gathering place. Even when she’d left town, she’d still been here. But someone had wiped her out of my life here with nothing but the swipe of a finger.