The Wonder of You (A Different Kind of Wonderland Book 1)

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The Wonder of You (A Different Kind of Wonderland Book 1) Page 10

by Harper Kincaid


  I could feel the crooked smile on my face.

  I pointed my fork in her direction. “And you need to work on your tell,” I said. “I always know when sister is ticked because the Carolina in her comes out real strong.”

  “Hmph.”

  “You know, we are sitting on some prime-time, juicy tidbits that aren’t even being touched,” I said, redirecting.

  “It’s true,” Lulu said while wiggling in her seat. “I’m on a happy giggle loop and I don’t want it to ever end.”

  “That’s so awesome,” I said, with everyone agreeing.

  “What’s going on?” Rayna asked.

  She threaded her white blond hair behind her ears, her grey eyes shining. “I just got the early reviews of my first product rollout through Beck’s company.”

  “Remind me, what did you decide to release first?” Rayna asked before

  taking a bite of her omelet.

  “The hot solar cells?” Lulu answered, barely able to contain her excitement. “That’s the one that’ll convert heat into concentrated beams of light, giving people worldwide a cheap and continuous power source.”

  “That’s right,” Rayna nodded.

  “That’s huge,” I said.

  “I know!” Lulu was beaming. “So far, we’ve heard from Consumer Reports, M.I.T. Tech Reviews, Scientific American magazine, BigThink . . . they’re saying Hot Dots—that’s the name Beck and I came up with—may be one of the game changers of the twenty-first century.”

  I reached out for her, giving her hand a squeeze. The others followed.

  “We are beyond happy for you,” I said, my smile so big it was ready to split my head open.

  “Yeah, there’s only one problem,” she said, the sadness coming in like rain clouds.

  “If you’re talking about that good-for-nothing family of yours, I don’t want you worrying about a thing,” Rayna said, squaring her shoulders. “I’m going to introduce you to my financial advisor. Phillipa’s a genius. And I’m also going to hook you up with my attorney. If there’s such a thing as a shark with a heart of gold, it’s Marie. If they even think of harassing you, I have friends at the tenth precinct who will be more than happy to pay those puntas a visit.”

  We were all protective of Lulu, but it was fair to say Rayna registered higher on that particular Richter scale than the rest of us. Maybe because she was inherently maternal or perhaps because her younger brother, Mario, was also on the Autism spectrum, like Lulu.

  “Okay, then maybe I have another problem,” she said, picking at her eyebrows.

  “Stop that,” Caroline said, gently taking her hand in hers. “Last time you picked out all your eyebrow hairs, it took forever for them to grow back. Remember?”

  Lulu nodded, frowning.

  “So, what else is wrong?” I asked.

  She huffed, closing her eyes for a few seconds before opening them and saying. “I think I’m in love with Beck and he has no idea. But I’m sure if he did, I’d just make him feel uncomfortable, at best. At worst, he wouldn’t want to work with me anymore.”

  We all stared. Lulu had never admitted to having feelings for anyone. In fact, she had always viewed romantic relationships as a waste of time and regarded her sexual needs like an errand on a check list, something to take care of with her vibrator or with a couple of friends with bennies she had panting after her.

  So her not-so-little declaration, was big. Huge.

  “We’re going to help you,” Rayna said, a steely determination in her eyes.

  “Of course, whatever you need,” I said, with Caroline nodding like a bobble head.

  “I don’t know how to flirt,” she sighed. “I don’t know how to do small talk. I don’t know how to do any of it.”

  Rayna’s phone rang. When she saw the name, her nostrils flared and her mouth tightened. “We’ve got you, Lulu, but I need to take this.”

  “Who is it?” I asked.

  “Not important, but if this man says what I think he’s going to say? It’s off with his head!” she said while dragging her finger across her throat and getting up from the table. “Hello, Captain Tight Ass . . .”

  “What was that about?” I asked.

  Caroline leaned in, so only we could hear. “I haven’t gotten the whole story, but it’s something to do with Mario. Wrong place, wrong time sort of thing. She’s beside herself.”

  “Why hasn’t she said anything to the rest of us?” I asked.

  I had to admit I was a little hurt.

  Caroline shook her head. “Please. I wasn’t supposed to know either. I just happened to be in her apartment when she got a call about it the other day. You know how weirdly protective she gets when it comes to her brother.”

  “Alright, let’s take care of brunch for her,” I said. “Lord knows she’s covered for us plenty of times.”

  We all scattered after we paid the bill. At first, I went to the New York Public Library to study, but it was too crowded. Then, I went to my university’s library and it was too quiet. So I went home and got a little work done, but I couldn’t pinpoint it. I felt restless and was only able to focus in short spurts.

  Otherwise, I was in a kind of fog. But the haze cleared and it finally hit me why I had left him in such a rush.

  I had gotten spooked, not by him this time, but of me.

  What did it mean that I liked the idea of him marking me? Was some ancient, prehistoric section of my brain taking control over my rational, civilized self? I had lived for so long in my prefrontal cortex, with logic and executive functioning happily in charge, ensuring I was organized and analytical, making safe choices. But I had gotten a hint of something raw, primordial and hungry when I wanted him to mark me with his gaze, his teeth, his seed. My limbic brain wasn’t just fight or flight, not just there to let me know that my body was experiencing an orgasm. She was my instinctive self, my animal urges and she wanted to be marked. She wanted to be claimed, not out of weakness, but out of desire and her own virility.

  I had no idea who that part of me was, but I was opened to finding out.

  I grabbed one of my smaller duffle bags and packed it with enough stuff for several days. Along with my school backpack, I took my stuff and walked out of my place.

  I took my time, strolling through Chelsea, going southeast towards Greenwich Village, one of my favorite neighborhoods in the city. The stuff I was carrying was heavy, but I didn’t mind the burden. The weight was grounding, a needed juxtaposition to the lightheadedness I was experiencing.

  Both heavy and light battled inside my body until eventually, I got tired and hailed a cab, giving cross streets I had just learned. I paid the fare, stopped when I got to the sidewalk and stood in front of a building. I was there for a while, long enough for the sun to be going down.

  Until I heard a door unlatch and open.

  And there he was.

  Our eyes locked.

  “It’s about time,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

  But it was enough. It was everything.

  I walked straight into his arms as he bent into me, my nose pressed into the middle of his chest.

  And without a word, he took all that I carried, along with my hand in his, and brought me in from the cold.

  “The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well.”

  ―Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

  Dare

  I was standing in my bathroom, scratching the underside of my jaw as I surveyed the utter lack of counter space left in my bathroom. Alice had been at my place for less than forty-eight hours—and frankly, she had fought me on the extra day—but I pleaded my case with my mouth between her legs, so that worked.

  And I’m also guessing I made her feel comfortable enough for her to unfurl all the products in her arsenal.

  “Babe, you barely wear
any make-up,” I called out. “How is it possible you have this much shit?”

  She was still in my bed, wrapped in a cocoon of sheets and blankets.

  “Says the man who wakes up looking like something off a billboard.”

  “I’m just saying, you don’t need all this crap.”

  She mumbled something I couldn’t hear and may have shot me the bird before her hand snuck back under the covers. I shook my head and let out a soft laugh.

  Every man bitches about all the stuff their girlfriends or wives keep around, but what the hell was the point of having space if not for your woman to feel at home? Besides, if a guy has a shit ton of crap for his hair or subscribes to a skin regimen, he needs to double check his man card. He was even more of a pussy if he acted like buying a box of tampons was the equivalent of getting his balls cut off.

  That said, I wasn’t above giving her shit.

  I finished up in the bathroom. “How is it possible there’s any hair left on your head?”

  “Cute, but newsflash City—you’re barking up the wrong tree if you

  waiting on me to agree with you.”

  I kept going. I was having too much fun. “By the way, I cleaned out your brush. It was time to set that furry pet free.”

  I saw one blue eye peeking from inside her long mane—and it looked angry. “And to think, I was all ready to give you a morning blow job. That is, until you sassed me.”

  Ah shit. “Now, wait a sec,” I said, crawling back in bed. “Let’s not be hasty.”

  “Nope, forget it,” she laughed, shaking her head. “It’s too bad, too, because I’m really good at it.”

  I’ve had Alice in a variety of ways, but haven’t yet gotten to see that perfect mouth around my dick. Maybe because I couldn’t seem to get enough of her taste. I’d catch a hint of her scent, like a feral dog, and that was it—I needed my mouth in there.

  “Actually, Ms. Leighton, I think this aforementioned promise of exceptional fellatio is a prime example of the kind of critical data points necessary for my case study notes, to be as useful as possible, in the name of science, of course.”

  “Oh, of course,” she said, playing along. “That’s very considerate of you, Mr. Grangeworth, thinking of the best ways to benefit science.”

  “I know. I’m a giver,” I said as I pulled her close, noticing she had on a tight tee and underwear. “Hey, didn’t we both fall asleep naked last night?”

  She pushed her hair away from her face. “No, I waited until you fell asleep, then got some stuff out of my bag to put on.”

  I squeeze that luscious ass of hers.

  “Care to share why? I like having full access, Dixie.”

  “I don’t like sleeping naked. Never have. Besides, it’s good for you to have to work for it,” she said, biting her bottom lip, looking up at me through those long lashes.

  This woman is going to kill me.

  “I don’t know about that. Feels like you’re creating unnecessary barriers towards intimacy. I’m going to have to write about this in my case study journal and process my emotions,” I teased. This was one of my new lines I liked to use, usually if I wasn’t getting my way.

  “Yeah, I’ve got something for you to process,” she said, a wicked gleam in her eye before going back under the comforter. I was just about to protest, until I felt her hot, wet mouth wrap around me. That shut me right up.

  “Mmm, I knew you’d taste good,” she said, continuing to hum as her lips and tongue worked my tip. I ripped the covers off because there was no way I was missing this show.

  She crawled over and perched right between my legs, those cerulean eyes locked on mine as she worked her way down my shaft, one hand stroking in time with her mouth while the other lightly tickled my balls.

  “Ah hell, that feels amazing,” I groaned, my eyes ready to roll to the back of my head, but not wanting to miss a second of her working me. My hips couldn’t help but thrust forward as she picked up speed, her hums vibrating up and down my spine.

  “Fuck Dixie, that’s it. Suck me. Yeah, don’t be gentle. Yank it too.”

  My head lulled back as I fisted the sheets.

  But then I felt her squirm and I opened my eyes to see her hand reaching between her legs. Holy shit, that’s the hottest thing ever.

  I let her play with herself for a few beats before I jackknifed up, grabbing her by the hips and pivoting her around, then moving her panties aside, so I had her sweetness in my mouth while she continue to suck and pull on my cock.

  She wasn’t gentle with me and I sure wasn’t going easy on her. I savored her heat on my face, as I flicked her hard and fast with my tongue. She moaned and started grinding into my mouth as I held onto her ass. My girl was so wet and needy, and I was this close to coming down her throat. But I wanted her there with me. Gently, as I lapped her up, I worked a finger inside her puckered opening, using her arousal to ease my way in.

  Her moans became wild, as I fucked her ass while she used my mouth to get herself off. I loved every second of it.

  She was keening. “Holy shit, that’s it . . . yeah, fuck me hard. I can take it. I love it like that. That’s it, I’m going to come. I’m—I’m . . .”

  Hearing her like that, using my mouth, made liquid fire shoot down my spine. Every muscle in my body tensed as I let it all go. There was an explosion of neon light and color behind my eyelids, blasting like fireworks and melting into a warm haze.

  She took my release down her throat, cleaning me off with her tongue.

  I could watch her do that all day.

  Every time with Alice just kept getting better.

  “I might have brain damage after that,” I said, catching my breath.

  She smiled, her eyes closed, with her tits pressed into my stomach, giving me all her weight as I stroked her ass and the back of her legs. I loved everything about her body.

  “I think you sucked the life out of me,” I said, my voice hoarse.

  She chuckled, but didn’t move. “That’s only fair. I’m totally dead right now. It’s official. You killed me.”

  “Death by orgasm?”

  She looked up, but only one eye opened. “Death by the orgasm of my life. Jesus, Dare, that mouth of yours missed its calling.”

  “Don’t even joke,” I said as I moved us so we were both laying on our sides, facing one another. “When I was first starting out, you have no idea how easy it could have been.”

  “How easy what could have been?”

  “To have sold myself while trying to sell my work,” I said, but seeing the concern in her eyes, I added, “Hey, it didn’t happen, so no worries. But it’s more common than you think.”

  “I’m sure it is. This isn’t an easy city to survive in,” she sighed. “One minute I’m feeling ten feet tall and confident, and the next, like I’m almost invisible.”

  “Do you miss it, the South?” I asked.

  “It’ll always be part of me, but being anonymous is such a relief in a lot of ways, especially after living in a small town almost all my life. People would ask me how my mama was, slopping sugar all over, and then talk trash behind her back. I was afraid to do anything, for fear people would say, ‘like mama, like daughter’.

  “Then I got to Chapel Hill and Chad and I were immediately a thing. He’s high cotton—that means he’s from a very wealthy Southern family. They all had a mind to grooming me into something above my raisin’. So, totally different circumstances, and yet, still living under a microscope.”

  I was listening, my fingers making lazy circles on the curve of her hip. I liked listening to her talk, hearing her Southern lilt. I traced her tiny freckles. She had them in a smattering across her lower back and there were a few right along her hip, the ones I was enjoying now.

  She watched my fingers. “I had a blind lover once, who told me those little raised freckles actually spelled out the word ‘freaky’ in Braille.”

  “Get the fuck out of here,” I said. “Is that true?”

&nb
sp; She nodded. “No,” she said with a straight face before cracking up.

  “Are you shitting me?”

  She rolled on her back, still laughing. “I had you there, for, like, a few seconds. Admit it!”

  I tried to look pissed, but I couldn’t keep my game face straight. So, I tickled her until she screamed, and she was only saved by her alarm going off.

  “Time for school, little one,” I said. “I know we showered last night, but—

  “Yeah, we need another one,” she said, walking to the bathroom as I watched her gorgeous, full ass move towards the shower. She stopped, staring at the contraption, scrunching her nose.

  “I have no idea how to turn this thing on,” she said, her frustration obvious. “I know I should be able to figure it out, but in my life I’ve never seen a shower this fancy. Even Chad’s people didn’t have something like this.”

  I stroked her back. “Hey, stop being so hard on yourself. It took a guy three days just to get the shower heads right. That’s not including the rest that needed to get done,” I said, pointing to the buttons, sharing the sequence if she wanted to adjust. “But it’s also voice activated, so just tell it what you want. I’m thinking you’ll be good at bossing it around.”

  She gave a pretend glare but then kissed me, letting out a sigh.

  “Sorry, I was being silly.”

  “You’re not being silly,” I reassured her. “I think the thing was designed by a former NASA engineer, so don’t take it personally.”

  I pulled her under the water, pumped some of her shampoo into my hands and started washing her hair.

  “I love having my hair washed,” she moaned, her head back, eye closed, letting me help her relax.

  “Good,” I said, giving her a deep scalp massage, liking how she leaned into my touch. “You know, before I was a Grangeworth, I was a DeMarco,” I told her as I worked up the lather.

  “That was your last name before?”

  “Yeah, feels like another life,” I said. “Being a DeMarco was simpler in a lot of ways. I didn’t live large, but we always had plenty to eat and a roof over our head. My ma and I lived with my grandparents, who are still alive and both total pissers by the way.”

 

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