“Hi…hi again? I’m here for my diary?”
“Yeah, I got it inside. Come on.”
Keane jerked his head, but she just stood there, looking like a frightened animal too scared to be alone with him. Normally he wouldn’t mind intimidating a girl. Especially this one. But he got a feeling this had less to do with him than what happened last night.
And he hated that she’d been scared. Even for a second.
“I’m an ornery bastard, but I’m not Graham. I’d never force you to do anything you didn’t want.”
Keane expected her to accept his words. Maybe even thank him again for getting Graham to leave her alone. Instead she thinned her lips and gave him a skeptical look, “Yet here I am after getting no answer to my texts asking you to drop it off at my hotel’s front desk.”
He snorted. “Yeah, I’m not in the hotel delivery business, princess. You want this diary or not? I got shit to do.”
Again, not the best tact when you’re looking to be the number one on a good girl’s Shake It Off list. But again, it worked.
A few seconds later, she was standing inside his temporary lair.
Asshole or get assholed, he reminded himself as he watched her pick up the journal he’d left lying on the bar. Out loud he said, “Would’ve given it back to you last night, but you rushed off before I could let you know you dropped it.”
“Thank you,” she mumbled. Keane watched her look everywhere but at him. “And sorry for rushing off.”
“That’s okay. You’re here now,” he answered, still watching her closely. There was a skittishness to her, like she could take off at any second. He brought out a bottle of tequila, the official base of Girly Spring Break. “You want something?”
She raised her eyebrows. “It’s only noon.”
“Yeah, only noon in Daytona,” he pointed out. “Bet ya half the town’s already tied a couple on. How’s your friend doing by the way? She was pretty out of it last night.”
“You saw her?”
“Yeah, clocked you as soon as I saw you at the bar. Blast from the past. But I guess you didn’t see me.”
“No, I didn’t…” She still wouldn’t look at him. And it was taking all the patience Keane didn’t have not to grab her chin and make her look him in the eye.
“She okay?” he asked instead. “You didn’t have to take her to get her stomach pumped or nothing like that? That alcohol poisoning is a fucker.”
“No, she’s fine. I kept her hydrated and now she and her other friends are out for lunch. Probably tying one on just like you said.”
Lena gave him a tentative smile, but she was still wary of him. He could tell. And it made him wish he’d punch Graham’s teeth in last night, even if it violated his second cardinal rule.
“I talked to Graham. Made sure he understood I’d report him to the college board my fuckin’ self and beat him within an inch of his life if he ever tried that shit again. Got there as fast as I could, but I’m sorry I didn’t jump in sooner. Seriously, let me get you a drink on me.”
She shook her head. “Seriously, it wasn’t your fault.”
Keane clenched his hand around the bottle of tequila not knowing what to do here. Truth be told, getting girls to fuck him had only gotten easier in college. They showed up at hockey frat house parties like clockwork every weekend, and usually, “You want something to drink? Let me get you something,” was all the game he’d needed.
Up until now.
But Lena didn’t day drink, even on her Shake it Off spring break, and Keane didn’t know how to deal with that. Or how to talk to her. Fuck, why was this good girl making him feel like such an insecure pussy?
“Do you work here or something?” she asked, looking around the dark bar.
“Or something,” he answered. “Bar belongs to my uncle. He pays for my ticket down here, and lets me stay in the room upstairs, just so long as I do all the boring ass set up work before the bar opens and the spring inventory. He hates that shit.”
“Wow, a zero spend spring break. I’m impressed.”
“Yeah, you probably are impressed, ya nerd. But trust me, I’m not coming nowhere near bar work after the draft in June.”
“So, you think you might play professionally?”
“Know I will,” he answered, his cardinal rules humming inside his head.
“Well…good for you.”
Yeah, good for him. He could do a 360 spin to slap shot a puck into the goal, but he couldn’t figure out how to talk to this girl without a whole lot of awkwardness. Fuck, he wished she would just take the drink.
“I should get going,” she said instead, stuffing the journal into her beach bag. “If I rush, I can still make it to brunch.”
“Yeah, brunch is the most important meal of the day,” he joked. Even as his brain-screamed, Fuck she’s leaving. She’s just going to walk out the door and I’ll probably never see her again.
She hesitated, then said, “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah, alright,” he said, brain scrambling to think of something to keep her there. “But before you go, we should talk about it.”
“Talk about what?”
“High school. I was a dick to you.”
A lot of girls would have played it off, but Lena…her face read like CliffsNotes. He could see all the hurt she was still carrying around from that day in her eyes, as she gave him a stiff nod of acknowledgement.
There was probably a right thing to say in a situation like this. Sorry or some shit like that. But Keane had never been good at that sensitive shit.
And in that moment, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to follow up with was, “Here’s how I’m going to make it up to you. That Shake It Off list of yours—I’m going to help you get ‘er done. Starting with number one.”
Her eyes widened and her shoulders stiffened. “You…you read my diary?” she sputtered.
Keane scrunched up his face. “Course I did.” I mean what was she expecting?
Apparently better. Instead of answering, she threw him a bitter look, then turned and walked away.
“Wait, Lena, hold on. Just hear me out,” he said, running to stop her.
She stopped but only because he got in front of her, blocking her way.
“I know I was a rat bastard to you in high school,” he rushed out before she started thinking he was like Graham. “I was going through some shit.”
Understatement. But Keane wasn’t the type to go into the finer details of the shitshow his home life had been those two years. Pretending like he was King of the School at Boston Glenn while having to go back to that shithole he called home on weekends to keep his dad from wailing on his little brother. “I liked you, though. I liked you a lot. From the day you got between me and Band Nerd’s lunch money.”
“Band Nerd,” she repeated, her eyes blazing. “Vihaan had a name. He was a scholarship kid just like me. And you.”
“Yeah, I know he had a name, but…”
Keane wasn’t one of those saps on TV. He never saw himself pouring his heart out to a girl. There was never any reason. However, the look on Lena’s face was giving him a bad feeling that if he really wanted to be her number one, then he was going to have to get real with her.
So, he used a tactic he’d never tried before. The truth. “I was jealous, so I didn’t bother to use it. Didn’t stop being jealous till he showed up to prom with another dude. But I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how I acted.”
Silence. She stared at him; her big eyes wider than he’d ever seen them. Even that day in the hallway. “Is this a trick?” she finally asked, her voice tight.
“What? No!”
She shook her head at him. “Because if it’s a trick, it’s a really horrible thing to do. You are so privileged. So, so privileged, because of your talent and your looks. You could seriously have any other girl in Daytona right now. Why pick on me? Play these mind games?”
“Exactly! Why would I pick on you? Trick you?�
� he answered, spreading his arms defensively. “Girls come easy to me. Why would I put myself through this shit if I didn’t want you?”
And no, he didn’t do details or vulnerability or any of that pussy shit. But in this case his voice dipped low as he told her straight out, “Six years I been wanting you. Ever since the first time we met.”
More silence. And now she was really looking at him, her eyes searching his face like he was a puzzle she had to figure out. “You really want to have sex with me? Help me ditch my V-card?”
Was she fucking kidding? He dipped his head down so that he could look her straight in the eye as he answered, “Yeah…yeah, I do.”
“But why?” she asked. Like he’d offered to crash her car, not be her first time.
“I already told ya,” he answered, his own mind as clear as hers was confused.
They were standing so close now. Even a millimeter closer, and she’d feel just how much he wanted to be her first against her belly.
“One kiss,” he whispered. “One kiss will prove I’m dead serious. I know I’m the high school idiot and you’re the smart girl who knows better, but can I kiss you?”
Second shock of the evening…she nodded. She actually nodded yes.
Ho-ly Shit. Six years of wet dreams. Four of regrets. Both his dick and his heart started pounding like war drums.
No way was Keane going to give her the chance to have second thoughts. He fucking devoured her, covering her sweet lips with his and kissing her like he’d been dreaming about since day one of meeting her.
It was probably too much. In the back of his mind he worried about overwhelming her. But no…she kissed him back. Just as hungrily. Like she’d been waiting six long years for this exact moment, too.
They kissed like that and for a while all Keane’s rules fell away. Who cared about getting assholed or the NHL or anything fucking else? This…was all he wanted. He’d do anything for this.
But she pulled away. “Keane, wait! Stop!”
Keane blinked, something dangerous inside of him commanding him to go on, but no…it was Lena. He didn’t want to hurt her, never wanted to do anything to make her look at him the way she had that morning in the hallway, when instead of asking her out, he’d dicked her over in front of the whole school.
With a shuddering breath, he made himself release her and take a full step back.
But instead of running off, she asked, “Is Keane your first name or your last?”
“My last,” Keane answered, probably looking as confused as she did when he told her he’d been liking her for six years.
She nodded. “What’s your first name?”
Keane inwardly jerked at the question. He never told people his first name. If they wanted to know it, they had to look it up, then wait to get punched if they ever dared to call him that to his face.
But for Lena he answered. For Lena, he confessed, “Desmond.”
If he was expecting her to be a lady about it, he was sorely disappointed. She snorted. “Desmond. That’s kind of nerdy.”
“Yeah, why do you think I go by Keane?”
Still grinning, she asked, “May I call you Desmond?”
“Fuck no. Why would you even ask me that?”
Her expression suddenly sobered. “Because if I’m going to have sex with you, I kind of want to be on a first name basis.”
He stilled, now the one unable to believe the words coming out of her mouth. “You serious?”
“Yeah…yeah I think I am.” She peeped up at him, her big brown eyes shy, even as she said, “My first time. I want it to be with you.”
How had he never noticed just how fucking disgusting his room above the bar was before he opened the door a few minutes after getting the yes from Lena? Back at UBoss, Puck Girls came by their rooms daily to tidy up, like a maid service—but one that was totally willing to spread their legs if you asked nice.
But apparently without that particular service, he was a fucking slob. He realized that as soon as he stepped through the door with Lena. Dirty clothes laid everywhere but in the laundry basket his uncle had given him, and thanks to everything being closed, it smelled worse than a locker room.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, picking up the clothes and throwing them in the laundry basket as fast as he could. “Wasn’t expecting company.”
“You didn’t know I’d say yes?” she asked as she watched him throw the laundry basket in the closet and close the door on it. Her tone was all “you’re fucking with me.”
But he wasn’t. “I didn’t let myself get my hopes up. Just knew I had to ask you—fuck it still smells in here. Want to go back to your hotel?”
“I’m on a fold out couch in the living room,” she answered with an apologetic look. “No privacy.”
“I’ll get us a room then.” It didn’t even take Keane a second to decide to reallocate his spring break pay on a hotel. “Give me a minute to ask my uncle if I can take an advance on my pay out of the till.”
But she closed the space between them and took him by the wrist, before he could get his phone out of his pocket. “Don’t. This is fine. Really.”
Keane shook his head, insisting, “You deserve better for your first time.” Nobody had ever accused him of being a romantic. More like down to fuck anywhere. But Lena wasn’t like the others. He wanted it to be nice for her.
But then she hit him with a pleading look. “Keane, I don’t need hotel sheets and rose petals,” she said, her voice soft. “I just…I just want to be bad for once.”
Fuck, did she know, have even one clue what her words did to him? It felt like his dick was ready to punch through his pants. “You want to be bad? With me?” he asked, challenging her. Not to be a dick, but because he was still having a hard time believing this dream was coming true.
“Can you help me do that?” she asked in return. “Be bad? With you?”
His cocked ached, with an intensity that could not be denied or put off by a search for better accommodations.
Next time…
Next time, he’d borrow that money from his uncle and next time they did this, it would be in a queen-sized bed at the Dakota Beach Benton Grand. He’d give her the kind sweet, soft-light sex she deserved with the band, Boston, hitting that baseline in the background while he hit it from up top.
But this time…
They fell back into the kiss, devouring each other. And why did he think she was shy?
He found out how wrong he was about that when he felt her hands tugging on his shirt.
He didn’t hesitate to rip it off his body in between kisses. He wanted her hands on him, felt crazed with the need to be inside her. Especially when she tore away from him for too many seconds to take off her shift dress and bikini top.
Yet, when she tried to fall back into the kiss, he found himself stopping her. “Hold on. Let me look at you, bad girl.”
He curved a hand around her neck to keep her there and maintain some skin-to-skin while he took her in. “You filled out since I saw you last.”
Her eyes shifted up and away like she was wishing to be anywhere but here, under his gaze. “Yeah, some people go for the freshman twenty, but I decided to double down.”
Did she ever. Her tits were even bigger than he’d imagined. Heavy and ripe. Begging for his hands. “You got nice everything. Can I touch?”
He could see the wheels in her mind turning, and he tightened his hand around her neck, wondering if she would turn scared woodland creature again and bolt.
But in the end, she nodded. Making him feel like he’d won another championship trophy.
He pulled her forward for another kiss with one hand while finding a breast with other. Best of both worlds and that made it easy to go slow. To pull her down to the bed and kiss her for a long and leisurely time, while they lay on their sides.
Eventually she started pushing her breast into his hand along with kissing him back. He let his hand drop from her fantastic tit and pushed it below her bikini bottom to
check.
She was a little damp, but it wasn’t enough. “Get wet for me, bad girl.” He pushed two fingers into her while his thumb started rubbing circles over her clit as he told her the God’s honest truth, “I want you ready to fuck as soon as I sit you on my dick.”
He’d never talked this much in bed with a girl before. There was never any reason. He was a catch and most of the girls he hooked up with went out of their way to make it as easy as possible for him. He got the feeling Lena would need things spelled out for her though.
And from the way she gasped, surprised like, when she began to enjoy it, she’d didn’t have any experience with the below the waist stuff. Jesus Christ, had that Rohan fuck not even bothered to do this for her?
Keane found himself both irritated that she wasted her senior year on that assclown and prideful that he was giving her something she’d never had before.
But when she started moaning, he stopped just short of letting her come on his hand. Selfishly he wanted her first time coming to be with him inside her. “You ready for me?” he asked, pulling his fingers out of her pussy.
Her hips kept moving even after he pulled away, begging for his hand back. The sight of her writhing hips hit him hard, made him take a moment to think about hockey drills so he wouldn’t blow his wad right then and there.
He was surprised he was able to sit up and get his jeans off in that state. When he pushed them down along with his underwear, his cock sprung out. More than ready. Already dripping pre-cum in fact.
His eyes flew up to his good girl turned bad, hoping the sight of his raging hard-on didn’t scare her.
Her expression had glazed over. But not with fear…
He nearly lost his mind when she closed one hand around his dick, then brought her mouth down to lick off the pearl of pre-cum at the tip.
Fuuuuckk! His stomach kicked, his body momentarily losing sight of his main mission, it wanted to come so bad. And then she had the nerve to press her tongue into his slit.
“Fuck no!” Cupping both his hands around her neck, he tugged her up and off the bomb she was creating between his legs. “What the hell were you thinking? Your lips wrapped around my dick…that isn’t something I can withstand. We would’ve had to wait a couple more hours before crossing number one off your list.”
Keane: Her Ruthless Ex: 50 Loving States, Massachusetts Page 5