by Cathryn Fox
I take a big drink of coffee and jump in the shower. Twenty minutes later, after stuffing a few pancakes into my mouth, I go over the events of last night as I head downstairs to the lobby.
I spot Emily sitting in the lobby, and I stiffen as I get closer.
“Whoa, are you okay?” I ask as she sits there with her eyes closed.
She blinks one eye open, and groans. “Too much tequila,” she says and taps the seat beside her. I sit down. “Uh, did I give you my room card last night?” she asks.
I nod. “Yeah, you did.”
She groans louder. “I didn’t mean to stand you up like that.”
“It’s not a problem.” No, not a problem at all that I slept with a good friend, and ran out under the cover of darkness, leaving her to believe it might have been a dream. Yeah, not a problem at all.
I reach into my back pocket and pull out the key card. “Here,” I say and she closes her hand over it.
“Keep it. I’ll make up for it tonight.”
I try to give it to her, but she’s adamant that she doesn’t want it back, but no way in hell can I sleep with her tonight after being with Kinsley. Hell it’s not that I can’t, it’s that I don’t want to.
I glance up to see Kinsley enter the lobby, dressed in a pair of cute jean shorts with frilled edges and a flowery blouse that showcases lush breasts my tongue had the pleasure of licking. My dick instantly hardens as her gaze flies to mine. Her eyes slowly drop to take in the push and pull between us with the room card, which looks like I’m trying to get it back from Emily’s hands, when it’s not like that at all. Kinsley’s eyes widen, and she blinks rapidly. She steps closer and plasters on a smile. That’s when I notice the love marks on her neck. Fuck. Her hand goes to said love marks, and she turns her focus to Emily when Emily asks a question.
“Kinsley, what happened to you last night?”
Kinsley takes a fast breath, her gaze sliding to mine. With confusion written all over her face, like she’s still trying to figure out if last night was real or not, she looks at my neck, and earlobe—a very teeth lanced earlobe. A strange sound crawls out of her throat.
Guess she figured it out.
“Remember I said I had to go to my room last night,” Emily says with an unlady like snort.
Kinsley turns from me and hugs herself. I take note of her quivering hands. “Yeah, but you couldn’t remember why,” she says, her voice as shaky as her fingers.
“Well I remembered why. I was going to get lucky.” She laughs and jerks her thumb my way. “I gave Cason my key card.”
“Oh, God,” Kinsley croaks out as she stumbles backward.
Emily laughs. “You must have been sorely disappointed when you crawled into my bed and found it empty.” Emily winks at me. “But like I said, I’ll make up for that tonight.” She closes her hand over mine, securing the key card in my palm.
“You thought…” Kinsley begins, her gaze bobbing back between the two of us. “Holy,” she gasps as the tumblers fall into place. She backs up, hits a potted plant and when they both nearly topple I jump up and slide my arm around her.
“You okay?” I steady her body by anchoring it to mine, and even though it’s not the time to be taking pleasure in her soft curves, my goddamn dick has a mind of its own. I mentally scold myself and pray she can’t feel the thickness between my legs as I consider scooping her up and going for round two.
“I…uh…I don’t know.” Dark lashes flash rapidly over blue eyes. “I’m not sure of…anything.”
“Emily, can you get Kinsley a cup of coffee please,” I say, my reasons two-fold. One, she looks like she needs a strong cup of java to help clear her head, and two I need a minute alone with her.
Emily groans and pushes to her feet as I keep my arm around Kinsley and set her on the bench.
She swallows. “Last night…” she begins and stops. Wide worried eyes search my face, but she already knows the answer to the question lingering on her tongue.
“Yeah. It was me,” I say. “I was there with you. You weren’t dreaming.”
She exhales sharply and leans forward clutching her stomach like she’s in physical pain. “I didn’t…I thought…dream. Ohmigod, I can’t believe this.”
“Do you dream about me, Kins?” I ask in a soft, sincere voice, somehow liking that crazy idea.
“Yes…no…I don’t know. I just didn’t think…” She goes so still, I’m not even sure she’s breathing. “Ohmigod,” she says again, her body shaking.
I put my arm around her, and pull her to me. “Hey, come on. It wasn’t so bad was it.”
“Bad?” She shakes her head. “I have never been more embarrassed in my life.”
“What’s to be embarrassed about? We’re two consenting adults, and the sex was great.”
“You thought it was great?” she asks, her big blue eyes wide.
“Yeah, it was fucking great. Didn’t you think it was?” I know I’m not great at expressing myself with words, so I really hope this isn’t coming out the wrong way, and making her feel worse.
“I…”
“Tell me the truth, Kins. You can be honest with me. We’re friends.”
“Friends who just slept together.” She bends forward and groans again. “Ohmigod, so bad.”
I nudge her playfully. “I believe it’s called friends with benefits.” She shakes her head and I ask, “Wait, are you saying the sex was bad for you?”
“My God, Cason, it was the best sex I ever had,” she blurts out, then looks mortified when an elderly lady walking by stops, gasps, and gives her a mortified look. Kinsley puts her hand over her mouth. “Oops.”
“Nothing to see here,” I say. The white-haired lady with the small poodle tucked in her bag huffs and saunters off. “Okay, so it was the best sex. Not a problem then, right?”
“I figured it was so good because I was dreaming.” She covers her face and peers at me through spread fingers. “I never knew it could be that good, to be honest. You did all the right things, but...”
I puff up my chest, loving that I satisfied her. “But what?”
“But,” she says and inches away from me. “You thought you were crawling in bed with Emily.”
“Ah, about that—” I begin and stop, because it’s true. I can’t dispute the fact that I thought I was crawling in bed with Emily. But once I found out it was Kinsley, it changed everything. The second our lips touch, I realized I was in the wrong bed, with the right woman. She’s not the kind of girl I usually go for. That doesn’t change the fact that we were explosive together, and when it comes right down to it…I want it again. Jesus, I’m such a typical guy, it’s ridiculous.
“You…Emily…”
“Did someone just say my name?” Emily asks as she comes back with coffee in a paper cup, one for her, and one for Kinsley. How nice of her to think I might want one.
“Just wondering what was taking you so long,” I say.
She huffs at me as she hands the cup over to Kinsley. “Ah, tequila. Hangover.”
“Thanks,” Kinsley says and takes a big sip of coffee.
Emily stands over her friend, her head cocked. “Kins, are you okay?” she asks, and tugs an elastic off her arm to tie her hair back. “You look like you could use a drink or ten, and it’s not even noon.”
“Yeah, just didn’t get much sleep last night,” she says and casts me a fast glance. “Strange bed. I would have slept in, but we all have a full list of wedding events planned for the day.”
The elevator doors ping open, and out comes Rider and Jules followed by the other wedding guests. Liam saunters over to me, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Had fun with Lexi, did you?” I ask.
“You missed out, bro. She was wild.” He leans into me and says, “Wait, you don’t look like you’ve missed out at all.”
“What makes you say that?” I ask and shift uncomfortably. I don’t normally talk about my bedroom antics with my friends. I leave it to their own imagination,
and I’m sure most times it’s better than the truth. Except for last night. Yeah, my teammates could never envision how great it was between Kins and me.
Liam laughs. “I guess you haven’t seen all the bite marks, my friend.” He lets loose a whistle. “It must have been one hell of a night.”
I slowly turn my head, and find Kinsley staring at me wide-eyed. “Yeah, it was something.”
“Who was she?” Liam asks. “I kind of like biters.”
I take in a well-sated Kinsley, and a ridiculous stupid idea I have no right thinking races around my little pea-brain. The sex was great, we both agree to that, and we’re adults doing what adults do. Maybe, if she wants, we could indulge in a little friends with benefits action while we’re here for the wedding. What could it possibly hurt, as long as we’re on the same page and agree to no regrets when it’s over?
“Who she was is none of your business, and if she’s going to bite anyone again, it’s going to be me. No regrets. No expectations.” Her eyes grow wide as she stares at me. “If that’s what she wants.”
4
Kinsley
If that’s what she wants.
Of course, that’s what she wants! Like he even has to ask.
“Cason, what are you saying,” I mumble under my breath, not wanting anyone to hear. I know what he’s saying, of course, but I guess I need him to straight up tell me he wants us to sleep together, using short sentences and small words, because I can’t quite wrap my brain around any of this.
He gives a casual shrug. “You don’t have to answer. Just think about it.”
Okay, not the answer I was expecting but I don’t press when conversation around us shifts to all the fun activities we’ll be doing today. Too bad climbing the tallest observation tower in the USA, and hovering over the strip in a hot air balloon aren’t on my list of awesome things to do. I’m freaking terrified of heights.
Cason shifts a bit closer, and his thigh touches mine, eliciting sparks in my body, mainly around my nether region. My tongue practically rolls from my mouth cartoon style and my clit quivers. Weird, right? Here I thought that was just something people say, something a person reads about in a book, but the macarena going on between my legs proves otherwise. There’s definitely a party going on downstairs.
I had sex with Cason Callaghan.
Ohmigod, I had sex with Cason Callaghan!
But not just any run of the mill sex. No, of course not. He might be known as the Troublemaker, but he had no trouble finding and stimulating all the needy little spots on my body and leaving me blissfully sexed and sated, but at the same time…craving more.
My ex could never find any of my erogenous zones, even with the use of a guided map and instructions from me. I think he might have even asked Siri once. I naturally assumed last night’s sex was good because it was a dream—everything my fantasies are made of—but this guy was better than any dream I’ve ever had.
Is he really suggesting we do it again?
Yeah, he is. I might not be his type, and this isn’t about happily-ever-after or getting into a relationship, but a little fling while we’re here? Now that sounds like a most awesome idea. He’s right, we’re consenting adults—friends. What could possibly go wrong?
A tortured needy sound I have no control over crawls out of my throat, and I’m about to tell him I don’t have to think about it. The answer is yes, times a million squared. Is that a thing? Math is not my forte. But before I can open my mouth, his best friend Cole and his wife Nina enter the lobby.
I let loose a little sigh as I watch them. Back in Seattle, they visit my food truck frequently, and I’ve always liked the two of them, not to mention the way they look at each other. After being married for a few years, they still act like they’re on their honeymoon. I’m a bit envious really. Men don’t look at me like that. Never have. Never will. Especially when I’m with my best friend Emily.
She’s every guy’s dream girl: tall, blonde, thin. Basically, she’s the antithesis of me, but I don’t care. I’m not looking for anything long-term. Not anymore. After my ex dumped me because I quit Harvard, because I wasn’t living up to his expectations—he didn’t like me for me—it totally turned me off relationships.
As the door hit my ass on the way out, he was kind enough to tell me how lucky I was to have him. Apparently, I wasn’t special and it’d be a cold day in hell before any man brought me home to meet their mother. You know what’s not special? A guy who wanted to marry me to get ahead in my father’s firm. I was the lucky one who dodged a bullet if anyone asked me. Still, on some level his words stung like a thousand angry hornets, and the truth is, I’m not the kind of girl guys go for, or bring home.
If I were, it would make things easier. Marriage would certainly convince my father that I’ve settled down and was ready to properly handle my large trust fund. Yeah, it’s true. Believe it or not, I’m a trust fund baby, left to me by my grandfather who I miss dearly, and the funds were supposed to be signed over when I turned twenty-five—when my life was in order. But my father is holding it, because I didn’t complete my law degree. I just couldn’t do it, though. I was accepted to Harvard law school, following in Mom, Dad, and my two older sisters’ footsteps, but I was miserable with a capital M.
Law is not my passion.
Sitting behind a desk for sixteen hours a day is not my passion.
Going before a judge is definitely not my passion.
Cooking…now that’s where it’s at. That’s where I’m happiest.
Knowing that, I quit Harvard, at the risk of giving every member of my family a heart attack. Up until then I’d been the good girl, the one to go along without complaining. One day I woke up and realized just how depressed I was with the direction of my life. We only get one shot at this, so I traded the pens, pencils, and briefcase in for a barely working food truck in need of repairs. While it’s hard work, everything about it fills my soul with happiness.
My food is a huge success in the neighborhood, but with zero collateral, the banks turned down my loan application. Not only is the truck held together by duct tape and a prayer, I want to rent space to start a restaurant that isn’t on wheels.
My trust fund is on hold until I can prove to my father that I’m a grown up making grown up decisions. In my father’s eyes, I guess the pink hair, tattoos, and piercings shout rebellion, not stability. I just want to be myself though, live my life on my own terms, and I honestly do not want to take a single dime from him, but this restaurant is important to me, and not just because it’s my dream.
I want to make a difference in our community by giving back and helping the folks who have less. My restaurant will be about using locally sourced ingredients, and making special meals to help the homeless. I do that with my truck now, we also have a pay-it-forward program and I’ve been serving up tacos to the homeless for the past few months. I’m definitely in my happy place.
Speaking of happy places. My gaze slides to Cason’s and our eyes lock. He took me to a place last night that I never knew existed, and dammit, I want to go there again.
“Are we all ready?” Jules asks as she slides her arm into her fiancé’s.
I groan and Cason angles his head, his eyes still latched on me. “You okay?”
“I don’t like heights,” I say as I stand.
“You don’t have to go.”
He hovers over me, all raw strength, muscle, and assurance. “Yeah, I do. Jules wants this, and we go way back. I’d do anything for her.”
“I can understand that,” he says. “Cole is my best friend, and I’d do anything for him. I even let him marry my sister,” he says with a laugh.
I grin, imagining how that must have gone down. “Also, I promised myself I’d be open to new things when I was here.”
His brow raises, and my cheeks heat, knowing exactly where his thoughts have gone. Hell, mine have, too. As everyone heads outdoors to climb into the party bus, Cason leans into me and puts his mouth near my ear. “Yo
u were pretty open to things last night.”
“Cason,” I say and elbow him. He lets loose a loud oomph. “I don’t want the others to hear and get the wrong idea…or the right idea…or any idea.”
The corners of his mouth turn up in a grin so naughty I almost turn into a puck bunny and hand over my panties. Oh, how I’m going to do that later.
“I can be your dirty little secret if that’s what you want,” he murmurs.
“I—”
“Come on you two,” Lindsay, Jules’s best friend says. “You don’t want us to leave without you.”
“Oh yes, I do,” I say under my breath and Cason gives my hands a squeeze.
“You got this. It’ll be fun.”
While I like his faith in me, I’m not sure I’ve got anything. I’ve been under such a tremendous amount of stress trying to keep my food truck in one piece, and doing a financial business plan for my restaurant, I’ve forgotten what fun was. I told myself I was going to forget about real life for the weekend, and just let go.
Thirty minutes later, after a champagne filled bus ride, I’m standing inside the observation deck, a floor to ceiling sheet of glass separating me from the outside deck. Many members of the wedding party chose to do one of the rides but the thoughts of catapulting over the edge of the tower to dangle weightlessly in the air—no thank you.
“You didn’t have to stay with me. I’m a big girl,” I say to Cason as he comes up behind me. He’s so close I can smell his scent. It washes over me, and every inch of my body, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, tingle in awareness. I hug myself to stave off a full body quiver.
“Maybe I wanted to stay behind.” I’m about to protest when he says, “Let’s go stand outside.”
My legs quiver a bit harder. “I’m not sure I can do that.”
“I actually think you’ll like it if you give it a try.”
“I’m not sure about that.”
“Okay, how about this. If you hate it, tonight I’m all yours in bed, and if you like it, you’re all mine, to do with as I like. What do you say?” he asks, that grin on his face so damn cute it’s hard not to go up on my toes and kiss it off.