Wild Kisses

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Wild Kisses Page 13

by Addison Moore


  “Oh?” She flirts mercilessly with those iconic thick lashes that have been whipping me into submission from the get-go. “I’d hate to induce an allergy attack. Why don’t I just take this off?”

  “Nope.” I reach back and land my fingers over the clasp. “That’s my job.” My gut says take it slow with Piper, but I’ve been craving that body since she first held it against me. She’s been pretty free with the kisses and heavy on the flirting, so I don’t see why not.

  “Actually.” She plucks her phone from her jeans. “One quick parting shot?” She leans in and snaps away before I can protest the idea.

  “You working on a scrapbook?” I tease, taking a bite out of her lip, then pecking a soft string of kisses straight down her neck.

  “Scrapbook?” A girlish giggle bounces through her, and I eat it up. I love this soft, playful side of Piper. “Oh, honey, this is for the dartboard. Say cheese!” She leans in and licks a line up my face as she snaps away.

  I pluck the phone from her and toss it to the floor.

  “I’ve got a dartboard in my bedroom I don’t mind pinning you down to.” My lips press into that tender spot behind her ear, and I can feel her go rigid beneath me. Shit. “I’m sorry.” I lean back, my hands in the surrender position. “I promise we can take it slow. Nothing ever needs to happen. I just like having you near me, Piper.” God’s honest truth right there.

  “Liar.” It comes out curt, hurt. “I’m only half-teasing.” She tries to play it off with a quiet laugh. “I mean, I want this with you.” That hurt in her eyes returns on cue, and it breaks my heart to pieces to witness. “I think maybe we have something special.”

  “I know we do.” I say it serious, no smile. There is no way in hell I want Piper to think that I’m toying with her. “This is real. We’re growing something, and I know it’s going to be fantastic.”

  Her teeth graze over her lower lip. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Owen. You make me feel safe—even if I am pretty lousy at feeling that way.”

  “You can trust me.” I clasp my fingers over hers without taking my eyes off those stormy blue eyes.

  She takes my hands and leads them to the back of her bra. “Go ahead.” Her gaze presses into mine. “I want you to.”

  My mouth waters just thinking about it. It took more control than I thought I had the other day not to take a bite out of the girls. I want to land my mouth over them and suck her down, make her come just like that. For the first time in the history of my sexual escapades, it doesn’t all have to be about me, even if my dick protests the idea. I’d like nothing more than to give Piper pleasure, put a smile on her face any way I can. I want to see her lost in ecstasy. I want to be the one to get her there.

  I unhook her bra and hold on to the tension, examining her perfect lips, her heavily lidded eyes set dead on me. “Do you want this?” I’m not sure why, but everything in me screams baby steps.

  Her tongue does a swift revolution over her lips, wetting them down with an anticipatory shine. “Do you?”

  “Yes, hell yes, but if things are moving too fast, I want you to tell me.” I haven’t had a relationship—not a real one—in so long that I can’t tell if we’re moving at lightning speed or a snail’s pace. “We have forever.” My gut tightens because a part of me wonders if that was a lie. It wasn’t. Piper and I can take our time because I’m not going anywhere, and I hope she’s not either.

  “Forever?” She sighs through a smile as her finger touches over my features. “I like the sound of that.”

  I let go of her straps, and they snap to the front, pushing her bra up over her tits. There they are, perky and glad to see me. Piper takes the green silk contraption and sends it sailing across the room.

  My hands drift to her waist, higher still until I’m cupping the girls. “I’m going to kiss you right there.”

  She takes a breath as the apples of her cheeks light up a bright pink. I pull her mouth to mine and love her like that just enough to reassure her that I’m not here for some joy ride. I want this, all of it. My lips cascade down her cheek, her neck as she leans back for me to take the lead. I draw a line down her chest with my tongue until my mouth clamps over her left nipple. A deep groan works its way up from my gut. Just died and went to heaven. Piper is soft. Cotton candy sweet. My teeth graze over her, and I suck her down.

  Piper lets out a sharp cry as her hips grind over my lap. She’s already at the finish line, and I haven’t even gotten out of the gate.

  A series of hard thumps emit over the door. “Owen? It’s me! Open up!”

  “Shit.” I lean back and press down my cock to abort this mission.

  “Who’s that?” Piper hops off and tosses on her T-shirt.

  “I have a feeling I know who.”

  “Wow”—that jagged edge returns to her voice—“you must be really good to have them beating down your door.”

  “I am, but this one is knocking for another reason.” I swing open the door to see my kid sister Ava with her mascara smeared down to her cheeks, her hair sticking to her beet red face. “Jeez.” I pull her in and give her a hug. Ava sobs onto my shoulder before I can ask what’s wrong. Ava is a junior in high school. Up until last year, she was at Davenport, the same elite private school Aubree and I went to for years. As a part of my father’s tough-love campaign, he’s plucked her right out of that posh institute of learning and thrown her into the nearest public school. “Who do I have to kill?”

  “Nobody.” She pushes past me and hiccups her way to the couch. Ava stops short once she spots Piper. “On second thought, everybody—and you can start with the skank in the middle of your living room.” She kicks the sofa table before falling onto the couch.

  “Be nice,” I scold. “Piper, this my little sister, Ava. Ava, this is Piper, my—” Shit. Girlfriend feels natural, but I can’t seem to push the word out. It’s too soon. Giving someone that title before it’s time, before you’ve discussed it, only makes you look like a desperate ass.

  “Your skank,” Ava finishes the sentence for me.

  Piper balls her fists onto her hips and cocks her head while studying my not-so sweet little sister.

  “Oh, honey, I’m nobody’s skank.” Piper says it hard, and for a second I wonder how loud the explosion is going to be when these two powder kegs set one another on fire. But Piper softens and takes a seat on the table across from Ava. “Is that what’s happening to you? Are people accusing you of doing things you didn’t do?”

  Ava brings her knees up until she’s peering from between them at Piper.

  “It happened to me.” Piper shrugs, her voice so soft I hardly recognize it. “I had a pretty shitty time in high school.”

  Knew it.

  “How did you get through it?” Ava squeaks, her chest still heaving. Her face is blotched, her raccoon eyes elongating with every tear, and I hand her a paper towel from off the sink.

  “I just did. I stuck my nose to the wind and didn’t give a flying fuck about all that bullshit. Stupid people love to start rumors. And stupid people love to listen to them. It’s a pretty crappy scenario. Do you have any good friends you can hang out with?”

  Ava gives a sober nod. “Like three.”

  “Three is more than enough. Do you have lunch the same period?”

  Ava nods again. Something about the exchange taking place warms my heart. Ava has needed a big sister ever since Aubree disappeared from our lives. My father and mother take Ava out with them every other weekend to see her. In that respect, they haven’t cut anyone out entirely, at least not Aubree. And I fill in the odd weekends they’re not there, so that my big sister will have someone to look forward to each time Saturday rolls around. It’s been tough, but no matter how messed up she is, a part of me still insists on being there for her.

  Piper rubs her hand over Ava’s shoulder. “You’re going to be just fine.” She pulls her into a hearty embrace. “Don’t listen to those assholes.” She gets up and stands on her tiptoes to whisper into
my ear, “That green 34C you’re allergic to is at ten o’clock.”

  “Got it.”

  “It was nice meeting you, Ava!” Piper heads to the door, and I meet her there with a kiss. “I’ve got an Alpha Chi thing.” She makes a face. “It’s back to the ponytail rodeo for me. I’ll talk to you soon.” She takes off, and I watch as her hips swivel all the way to the elevator.

  “She’s nice.” Ava picks up the remote and puts on a cooking show—a cupcake battle that I’m sure our cousin Roxy could win hands down.

  “Piper is nice.”

  I’m glad someone other than me thinks so.

  “You should consider keeping that one.” Ava smirks. “I’m glad I got to meet her.”

  “Duly noted.” My eyes drift back to the empty space in the hall—my mouth still hungry for more of Piper’s sweetness. I’m glad she had a chance to meet Ava. I’ve got another sister I think it’s time she meets—one who has a hell of a lot to say about that ponytail rodeo she’s so desperate to join.

  Aubree should know what a dangerous and shitty place Alpha Chi really is.

  After all, she invented the rules.

  Feral Affection

  Piper

  The idea of falling in love was such a far off notion just a few weeks ago—something to aspire to, a dream for someday—and yet here I am smiling like a loon whenever I think about Owen. Owen Vincent of all people! All of those ridiculous clichés—walking on air, having my head caught in the clouds, every breath, every thought circles around that gorgeous smiling face of his.

  Love. Who knew it could hit so quickly like a blunt force trauma to the head, taking you down with a single beat of the heart?

  “Cassidy?”

  “Yup?” she shouts from the partially opened bathroom door while primping and preening for yet another Alpha Chi event.

  “Do you believe two people can fall in love after only knowing one another for a couple of months?”

  “Hell fucking no,” she bleats out, sugared as sweet tea. “I had this boyfriend back in high school, Justin Armstrong, real ladies’ man. He slept with half the cheer squad, all the while professing his love to me. Turns out, sex was his religion. Don’t you think for a second you’re in love with that frat boy they’ve stuck you with. He might be good-looking, tall, and is driving that Ferrari down the right side of the tracks, but he’s got devil horns peeping up from the sides of his head. You can’t see them. But I’m damn good at spotting them. It’s a gift. Plus, he’s got nothing but a teeny tiny weenie in his pants. I can just flat out tell. I don’t need a gift to know that.”

  Cassidy thinks it’s Winston I’m head over heels with. It looks like I’m better than I thought at hiding my budding feelings for Owen. Speaking of the devil—I can see his horns plain as day—I’ve sent a ton of suggestive pictures to Jules and Lucille, so I’ve more than aced that last test. I wince at the thought. I’m not sure if Owen would be pissed or honored to be my number four. And that leads me to the dreaded number five. I’ve got one more item to check off that stupid list, and it just so happens to concern Winston and his teeny tiny weenie. But I don’t want to think of Winston or his little dick right now. I want to focus on Owen.

  “Actually, it’s not the frat boy they’ve stuck me with that I’m talking about.” I bite down the goofy grin, trying to break free once again and slip the door open.

  Cassidy spins around with a teardrop-shaped makeup sponge in her hand, and we both gasp simultaneously. It’s not what’s in her hand that catches me off guard. It’s what’s on her face.

  “Oh my God,” I whisper. That scar. Those lines. Her entire face is bare, swollen, red, and irritated. It looks worse than a tear or a burn; it looks as if she were shredded. “What happened?”

  “Nothing.” She spins back to the mirror and bows her head.

  “Something happened.” I tilt in to get another look. It’s clear Cassidy never has any plans to share that scar with anyone. A bright red fissure runs from her eye clear to her cheek and fractures out in a spray of crimson over her lip. “You were torn to pieces. Who did this to you?”

  “It wasn’t a who.” She turns back around reluctantly and lifts her chin to me, exposing herself fully. “It was an it. I was chasing after someone, trying to say goodbye”—her voice grows incredibly small as if the real story lay hidden in that truth—“and I met up with some rabid mutt. I was just six at the time. I was playing in the yard, and the neighbor’s dog jumped me. Tried to eat my entire damn face for breakfast.”

  “Shit.”

  “Oh, hon, believe me, I know it was shit.” She looks back to her reflection and starts dabbing the sponge to her face, and the scar slowly bleaches away. “It’s still shit today.” She glares at the raw snakelike lines marring her complexion. “It ruined my fuckability factor.” Her eyes cut to mine. “Yeah, I said it.”

  “Cassidy!” I cover my mouth, unsure whether to laugh or cry. “You are totally fuckable, and we both know it.” True as God. I mean it.

  “Oh, hush. You’re just too damn nice to admit otherwise.” She pauses and looks to me with a silent pleading in her eyes. “I don’t show anybody this mess. I had a hell of a time in school until my mother started helping me cover the damn thing up.” She inverts her lips a moment as if holding back tears. “Can I ask you a favor? Please don’t tell anyone how bad it looks.”

  “No. God, of course, I wouldn’t say anything. You’re like the best friend I’ve ever had. I would never do that to you.”

  Her eyes pool with tears. “You mean that?”

  “Yes, I mean that. You’re one of the nicest people I know.”

  Cassidy pulls me into a deep embrace. “Thank you,” she whispers, pulling away. “I’ve put up with more than my fair share of mean girls. It just comes with the territory. It’s nice to have someone genuine around for a change.” She blots the tears from her eyes with a tissue. “So, who’s this boy that stole your heart?” Her mouth rounds out in an instant O. “It’s him!” She clutches at my arms like she’s about to save me from a fire. “Owen?” She breaks his name into two pieces, and it sounds adorable as hell.

  “Yes, Owen. He’s awesome and pretty amazing.”

  Cassidy sags. Her lips crimp with disapproval. “Buyer beware. People can be awesome and pretty amazing when you’ve only known them for less than a month. What does that boy do for work anyway?” She gets back to the business of expertly concealing her scar.

  “He’s a—” What the hell does he do? “He’s doing the internship with me.”

  “For free. Is Daddy bank rolling that apartment? How does he eat? Who the hell is paying for all those tats?”

  “Don’t forget the nipple ring.” I sigh at the thought. I’ve yet to clamp down on it with my teeth, but that, too, is on my naughty photo agenda. Although that picture will be for my private viewing pleasure. It makes me sick that Jules and Lucille are privy to all our intimate moments. On the flip side, I’ve spent hours each night just looking at those quasi-pornographic photos, and I don’t regret a single one. To say I’ve been salivating—that they’ve been making me wet all over, would be an underestimate. Owen has officially garnered the nickname, Panty Soaker.

  “Girl, you’ve got it bad.” She finishes applying her foundation and spins toward me. “How do I look?”

  “Beautiful as usual, but I’m not talking about your ability to cover up your scar. I’m talking about the real you inside and out.”

  She pulls me into another heartfelt hug. “You’re just all about making me cry tonight.”

  “You still haven’t answered my question. Love or not love?”

  She pulls back, her eyes steadying over mine. “You are so far gone over this boy, aren’t you?”

  My cheeks burn with heat, answering for me.

  “Well then, there’s only one thing it can be.” She hikes her shoulders, and her blonde curls bounce. “Must be love.”

  Must be.

  I thought so, too.

  * * *r />
  The Black Bear is teeming with girls in short skirts, men dressed however the hell they felt, and then there are the girls rushing for Alpha Chi, with our signature ponytails, our ruby red lipstick we wear with pride, and soon to follow, our pearls once we gain admission to the most sought-after sorority at Whitney Briggs. The official candle lighting ceremony is next Monday night, even though all potential new member activities end this Friday. That gives Jules and Lucille the entire weekend to calculate points. The girls who participated the most get the prize, or pearls as it were, which seems fair until you pan out and see the bigger picture. God knows how many Super Pledges they have running around out there, desperately trying to tackle some sexual bucket list. All bullshit aside, that’s essentially what it is.

  “I see Scarlett and Daisy.” Cassidy points to the dance floor, but my eyes snag on a familiar hard body that I’d like to take a bite out of—Owen. I give a quick wave as he heads for the bar, but he doesn’t see me.

  “I’ll be right there. I sort of want to say hello to someone first.”

  She follows my gaze and gives an approving moan. “You really know how to pick ’em. Once you get in with that one, make sure you don’t forget about me in the event he has any cute friends.” She dives into the crowd, and just as I’m about to track down my favorite tatted up bad boy, a hand clamps over my shoulder.

  “Hey, Pipe. What are you doing here?” A deep voice rumbles into my ear.

  I look up to find my older very much handsome big brother, Wyatt.

  I give a few hard blinks, hoping to God it’s not really Wyatt, but this is me, and my luck dictates that it is. The last thing I want is Wyatt finding out about Owen and me—me and anyone for that matter.

  “Rushing. What are you doing here?”

  “Came to listen to Blake.” He nods to the stage where Blake and his band are setting up.

 

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