by S. J. McGran
I believe him. I believe he thinks I’m beautiful, and I believe he’s going to prove it. It’s hard not to believe him with the desire blazing in his eyes as he looks at me.
“You’re off to a good start.”
Grabbing my legs, he wraps them around his waist and carries me from the dining room to the couch. After that, words are no longer needed as Rico does what he does best—makes me feel wanted and pretty and desirable with just his touch.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Rico
I’m in trouble. Like serious trouble. Drugs, alcohol, and pussy have always been my MO when I’m having a bad day, when I’m struggling, when I’m angry. Alcohol helps me forget, drugs make me numb, and the girls help me feel something other than hate and disgust. Over the years, I’ve had my fair share of pussy. I’ve had it pretty much every way you can… but none of them have ever come close to the way Riley felt last night.
She rocked my fucking world, in the most literal sense. After she scored my table, she scored my heart with her big eyes and her pleas for me to keep fighting for her. I promised her I would and I’ve never wanted to keep a promise so much in my life.
She’s nothing like the girls I’ve always gravitated toward. She’s sweet, innocent, and a little timid. But, she’s so damn sexy, and beautiful, and strong, and the thing is she doesn’t even realize how irresistible she is.
Even now as she sits curled on her side on my couch wearing nothing but my t-shirt that fits her like a dress, she’s mouthwatering, delicious. I’m finding it hard to keep my hands off of her. And, as I stand in the kitchen cleaning up from breakfast I find it impossible to keep my eyes off of her.
Making my way through my apartment’s dining room and living room to get to her I drop to my knees between the couch and the coffee table and put my face in her direct line of sight. Reaching my fingers out I sneak them along her bared thigh, pushing the hem of the shirt up higher and higher with each pass.
I love the way her eyes darken the higher my fingers get. I love even more the way she keeps her gaze focused on mine and angles her body toward me making it easier for me to reach her.
I want to take it further, I want to push the soft cotton out of my way and give her the pleasure she’s silently begging for, but that’s not what this is about. I just to want touch her. Wrapping my hand around her thigh I anchor myself to her, leaning forward I press a kiss to the tip of her nose. “What are your plans for the day, Kit?”
“Mmm,” she lets out a soft purr as she rolls to her back and stretches her limbs.
Down boy. You can have more of that delicious body later. I repeat the chant over and over in my head as I watch her raise her arms above her head and her legs stretch the length of the couch. That damn piece of cotton sneaks up showing off her creamy, muscular thighs.
“Baby,” my voice is low and raspy, the need pouring out of me with each syllable. “You gotta stop making that sound, and you definitely need to go put on some clothes unless you plan on letting me have my way with you... all day.”
She takes her bottom lip between her teeth, her hazel eyes flashing with desire. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“You’re killing me,” I whisper against her lips. “I want to take you out. Do this the right way.”
Her face flushes as she looks away from me causing a smile to creep along my lips slowly. I love the many sides to this girl. I love that one minute she is confident and sexy, and in the very next moment she’s shy and innocent. “What’s the right way, Rico?”
“Flowers, dates, chocolates. I want to woo you.” My words were mumbled against her skin as my lips trail along her arms and neck unable to pull away long enough to speak.
Small hands wrap in my hair as she pulls lightly forcing my lips to leave her skin and my gaze to meet hers. Her face is tinted pink, her eyes shining with humor and her lips twitch with the need to let her smile go. “You want to woo me?”
Trying not to laugh myself I work to school my features. “Yeah. Why, don’t you want me to woo you?”
Finally, she lets her guard go and busts out laughing. I’ve heard her sweet giggle a handful of times but only once has she laughed like this in front of me. She laughs loud and long, her eyes close forcing a few tears to trail down her cheeks. It’s such a beautiful sight, such a beautiful sound I make it my life’s mission to make her lose it like that every day. This girl hasn’t had enough laughter in her life—I haven’t had enough laughter in my life—I’m going to do my best to make up for that. For both of us.
I sit there patiently as she gets it out, my own smile stretching my face. This is what I want and now that I’ve had a taste of it I’ll do everything I can to keep it.
“Okay, I’m sorry,” she says when her laughter turns into hiccups, her eyes full of tears. “You can woo me.” Her face goes soft when she says it and I feel for the first time she’s really looking at me, really seeing me. I see it the moment it clicks in that pretty head of hers that I’m serious. That I want to fight for her, woo her, win her love more than I’ve ever wanted anything in this shitty life. Pushing up on her elbow she leans over the edge of the couch to place soft kisses on lips. “Thank you.”
Reaching up I hold her face between my palms. “For what?”
“Making me smile, making me happy.”
With one more lingering kiss on her sweet lips, I make one last promise, “It’s just beginning, Kit.”
***
Riley and I were finally able to stop touching each other long enough for me to get up and get showered and to take her to her place to do the same thing. Just as we are getting ready to leave her house to head out to the surprise day-date I have planned for us Roxy shows up wearing a shit-eating grin.
“Well, well, well,” she says as she bounces into the apartment. “What do we have here?”
“Good morning to you, too, Rox,” Riley lets out in a sarcastic tone.
Roxy leans against the door effectively locking us in, her arms crossed over her chest. Her blonde hair is in a messy tangle, last night’s makeup smeared across her eyes, and her skin-tight dress and shoeless feet polish off her I had a one-night stand look. “You didn’t come home last night.”
Riley quirks an eyebrow at her friend, her eyes raking up and down her appearance. “How would you know? You were obviously not home last night, either.”
A sadistic smirk creeps along the blonde’s face. “I didn’t know. I just wanted to see if you’d admit it.”
I can’t help but laugh at the girls. Roxy with her cocky, all-knowing smirk and Riley with her cute, kitten glare. Walking up behind Riley I wrap her in my arms, placing my chin on top of her head I try to distract Roxy with an innocent question, “What are you up to today?”
“Ugh,” she sticks her bottom lip out in a pout as she takes in the way Riley and I are standing. It took a second but Riley finally relaxed into my touch, her head tipping back just slightly to rest on my shoulders and her hands resting on my forearms. “Probably not having as much fun as you two. Where are you headed?”
I smile as Riley’s feistiness comes out again, “Yeah, where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise, and we’re running late.” Moving from around her I grab Riley’s hand stopping only to place a kiss on Roxy’s cheek. “Have a good day, Rox.”
“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here with your perfect self,” she says with a smile on her face. “And take care of my friend.” Her eyes go soft, and a little distant as she looks at Riley and I’m sure she’s thinking about everything she’s gone through.
“I will.” At that, I pull my girl out of the door behind me even more eager to get on with our day. I want to see her smile, want to show her what it looks like, feels like when a real man is taking care of her.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Riley
I slant a glance at Rico when we pull into the art museum’s parking lot. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t give anything away just parks before climbing out and
coming around to my side to open the door for me.
This morning I couldn’t stop the delirium as Rico promised to woo me. Not only is the word hilarious when used that many times in such a short period of time, but also it’s hysterical coming from Rico’s mouth. This big, bad, tough guy promising me flowers and chocolates is comical on its own.
More than that though, and the true reason I laughed so hard was to cover up my pain. I’ve never been wooed; I’ve never been doted on. When you start dating someone in high school romantic gestures include a sweet text message, maybe a note left in your locker, and if you’re really lucky you might get a bouquet of grocery store flowers. After high school William was so busy focusing on his studies and working his way up the intern ladder he never paid much attention to me – his idea of romance was dinner at a local chain restaurant where none of our friends tagged along.
I was always an afterthought to him. I never came first, and I never realized how desperately I needed someone to make me feel special until Rico Jones walked into my life.
I want to pester him with questions, demand he tell me what his grand plans for the day are, but I decided to do something I’ve never been very good at—going with the flow. I’m going to let him guide us, lead us where he wants us to go, and trust that he’ll take care of me along the way.
I smile as his warm palm slides into mine. Squeezing my hand around his a little tighter I look up at him making sure he knows how much I’m already enjoying this time with him, and even if all we do is walk around the art museum I’m okay with that because he took the time to listen to me, to listen to things I enjoy and planned a date around it. Instead of planning a date around his own likes and conveniences.
A familiar sense of calm washes over me when we step into the large foyer of the museum. The granite walls and floors shine with a fresh coat of polish, the lights burn brightly above our heads, and quiet murmurs echo down the halls as patrons discuss the pieces of art they’re admiring.
Rico pulls me forward and down a narrow hallway I’ve never been down before. “So, I have to tell you, I’ve never really been into art and I’m definitely not artistic,” he says as we come to a stop in front of a closed door. “But, watching you paint last week gave me a new interest in it.” He looks down and gives me a look I’ve only seen from him once before, it’s a look of apprehension, whatever is behind that door is making him nervous, and making me anxious. “I don’t know how much fun this will be for you because your skills far surpass novice, but I thought it would be kind of fun to take an art class together.”
For a moment, I just stand there and stare at him completely stunned. For years I tried to get William to take an art class with me and he refused, stating he was too busy, or wasn’t into art, “it’s your thing, not mine,” he’d say.
“Kit?” He steps into me taking my face in his hands. “Talk to me. Did I do something wrong?”
It’s then I realize a few tears have slipped down my cheeks, amazing what feeling special does to your emotions. Smiling up at him I try to lighten the mood, bring things back to us. “You’re a pretty good wooer, you know?”
He laughs lightly before his lips find my forehead. “Come on, crazy girl. You might be running the other way when you see how awful I am at this stuff.”
We walk into a small classroom hand in hand. The instructor is set up in the front of the room, his canvas and paints ready and waiting. There are only a handful of students in the room, including Rico and I. We make our way to the back of the paint-spattered room to grab our tools for the day—a smock, a canvas, a tray of paints, and a cup of water with different sized brushes soaking in it.
Taking our seats in the back of the room, I get situated in front of the canvas, a position I’m comfortable with, that same sense of calm from earlier washing over me. Looking over at Rico with fondness in my eyes I stifle a smile as he flashes me a wink before grabbing his brush in one hand and pretending to think thoughtfully while staring at the blank canvas.
The instructor begins his lesson on painting a giant hibiscus flower. I do my best to listen to his directions, trying to maybe learn new techniques or brush up on old ones I haven’t used in a while but there’s a hunk of distraction sitting next to me making it nearly impossible to concentrate.
I’ve used a lot of adjectives when describing Rico—sexy, hot, delicious, sweet, damaged, protective, handsome, and irresistible to name a few. Adorable has never, not once popped into my head. Until now.
He is trying so hard to do as the instructor says, his hand moving with such finesse, such dedication. His eyebrows are scrunched together, his tongue peeking out of the side of his luscious lips.
A primal, almost animalistic feeling comes over me—a feeling I’ve never felt before. I want to claim him, mark him as mine. Send a message to any wandering eyes that he belongs to me.
For once in my life I act on that emotion. I do what I want, without thinking about it. I just do it.
Placing my brush back in its water cup, I stand from my seat and slowly take the two steps needed to get to him. When I get close to him, he finally tears his eyes away from his masterpiece and looks up at me with confusion and adoration marking his features. In the same way I did mine, I grab his brush setting it aside before sliding onto his lap. Rico wastes no time wrapping me in his strong arms as I lean forward and take his lips in a kiss that is far too intimate for such a public place, but for once I don’t give a shit what anyone else has to say, what they think. I felt the need to kiss my man and I acted on that need.
“What was that for?”
Shrugging my shoulders, I look down at him with a grin on my face. “You looked cute.”
He screws his face up in a look of disgust. “Cute? I looked cute?” I just bob my head up and down in answer doing my best to reign in my laughter. “You look cute, too, baby. Especially with that red paint on your cheek.”
It takes a few seconds for it to dawn on me that I haven’t used red yet today. When Rico’s finger comes up and traces a line from my temple to the corner of my lip leaving what I’m sure is a bright red streak down my face I grasp the fact that I took one second too long to come to that realization.
I let out a little squeal causing the entire classroom to look in our direction, but I’m too focused on revenge to pay attention to them. My eyes go wide in shock before narrowing into slits. “Don’t you do it, Kit.” Rico’s hands grip my wrists trying to keep me from reaching his paints, but I have a plan-B form of attack. Leaning forward I rub my cheek against the side of his face smearing the paint all over both of us. “Oh, that’s it. You’re in trouble now.”
Pushing me off his lap Rico dips all four of his long fingers in a jar of blue paint, but I’m already starting to run away from him. It doesn’t take long for him to snatch me around the waist from behind and smear the paint all over my face and neck. He’s laughing like he’s won until I twist out of his grasp and lunge for my station. Blindly reaching for a jar of paint I dip my fingers in the colored die, saturating them completely before I run my hand along his jaw and up into his hair.
Reaching over to my station he grabs the large paint brush dunking it in a jar of green paint before running it from my forehead down the center of my face, he doesn’t stop until the brush lands between my cleavage.
“Oh my god!” I shriek.
We’re both laughing so hard we don’t hear the gasps from our classmates or the bark from the instructor ordering us to leave until he’s standing in front of us. His face is red, his large belly rising and falling rapidly as he glares at us over the rim of his glasses. “Get. Out. Now,” he seethes.
Rico grabs my paint-covered hand with his own and we make a mad dash from the room, laughing the entire way out of the museum. Our laughter doesn’t stop until we’re both resting against the side of his rusty truck trying desperately to catch our breath.
Rolling the back of my head against his window, I take in his now green face and hair from the mix
ture of paint colors and nearly start laughing all over again. “I can’t believe we just got kicked out of an art class,” I say.
Rico tries to look apologetic but the smile plastered on his face is too big to hide. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’ll make it up to you.”
Moving in front of him I wrap my arms around his neck pulling his lips down to mine. “That was the best date I’ve ever been on, Rico. You don’t have to make anything up to me, you just have higher standards to live up to now. That’s all.”
He chuckles before kissing me completely senseless. His full lips cover mine, his tongue rubbing against mine in a sweet, tantalizing way that leaves me aching for more. More kisses, more touches, more time. I don’t want to let this sexy, adorable, fun, loving, broken man go.
I want to own him. Completely. Irrevocably.
Gasping for breath I pull away from Rico’s too tempting lips, the need for oxygen outweighing my need to kiss him… for the moment anyways. I look down at our paint ruined clothes and smirk back up at him. “I completely ruined your shirt, and it’s going to take forever to get that out of your hair.”
“You’ll just have to find some way to make it up to me,” he whispers in that bedroom voice of his. The message is clear, his desire palpable.
Slowly I run my palms from his neck down his wide shoulders and over his pecs, stopping to trace the rigid lines of his abdomen. “We should probably get you home and cleaned up,” I sigh in the closest thing to a bedroom voice I can muster.
Without another word, Rico locks my wrists in one of his large hands effectively stopping any further groping. With his other hand, he palms the back of my head and crushes me against him.
I could spend hours, days kissing this man and never tire of it. He kisses me with so much passion, so much emotion it’s hard not drown in it.