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All that heavy shit is still in the air. We'll have to ride through the storm soon. But not yet. She's facing reality as soon as she gets off that plane.
I want to make the next two weeks—well, nearly two weeks—as blissful as possible.
Rhianna purrs about her love of whips and chains.
I slide my hand under Kaylee's dress. Higher and higher, until my thumb is brushing the edges of her panties.
Her fingers dig into the seat. "You're a tease."
"You just figuring that out?"
&nb
sp; She shakes her head. "It's more obvious some times than others."
I can't help but smile. She does that to me. She makes me stupid happy.
I turn my attention back, but I keep my hand on her thigh, my thumb tracing the edge of her panties.
Marvin Gaye serenades us.
I turn on Santa Monica Boulevard.
Then into the little strip mall on the right and grab the first spot I find.
Kaylee looks around carefully. First, the donut shop. Then the juice place. Then our destination. Then the liquor store. "I don't really like donuts."
"Guess again."
She motions to the juice place. "Lunch."
"No."
Her eyes go to our destination. A Perfect Romance. "Brendon Kane. You... you're not..."
"I am."
I pull my hand away.
Her sigh is heavy. Needy. "You... you're... why..."
I undo my seatbelt and step out of the car. Fuck, there are a million reasons why. "Because I want to be sure you're thinking of me every fucking night."
She gets out of the car and presses the door shut. Her eyes find mine. They're still dumbfounded.
"You don't have a vibrator."
Her cheeks flush. "People can hear you."
I hit the lock and slide my keys into my pocket. "People should hear me." I slide my arm around her waist. "People should know how much I love it when you come."
Her blush deepens. "You... you do this on purpose."
"Maybe."
"Yeah. You do." She rests her head on my shoulder. "I'm not sure why I talk to you."
"You want people knowing."
