Seeing her cry on the bathroom floor breaks something in me. Kallie has always been the happy one, the positive one. That she thinks she needs to drown herself in whiskey like it’s her fault is beyond me. She’s absolutely beautiful, inside and out. Any man would be lucky to have a girl like Kallie.
“Come here.” My voice comes out more intense than I wanted as I stand, her eyes following my every move as I hold out my hand.
“Let’s get you in the shower. Sober you up. Okay?”
Her eyes grow wide at my comment. “Like by myself, though, right? Because I-I mean, you’re…you, and while I think you’re way too attractive for your age…”
My mouth gapes like a fish out of water at her rambling, and I can’t help the laugh that comes out. Yeah, she’s still feeling the alcohol, but at least I got her thinking about something other than what a shit show she thinks her life is right now—though forty-eight isn’tthatold.
Kallie slaps a hand to her mouth after realizing she just hit on me and also kind of insulted me.
Before she can be embarrassed any longer, she starts talking again as I reach over and start the shower.
“How old are you now anyway?” Kallie asks after I get the shower to the perfect temperature. I turn and face her again to find her face is flushed, which makes the freckles littering her face more prominent. Her brown hair I tied up is starting tocome loose, and her bright blue eyes are glossy as she looks up at me from the floor.
“Old enough.” Her face heats more, but her eyes wander down my body as I help her stand, her hand automatically finding my chest to help steady herself. Her lips part like she’s going to say something, but she decides against it.
This girl is a walking temptation, one I have no business indulging in. I clear my throat and take a step back. Her hands fall from my chest, and I instantly miss the feeling of them on me as I leave her to shower without another word, not quite trusting myself to say anything more.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Robert is going to kill me.
After Kallie gets out of the shower, she dresses in a shirt she basically drowns in. Her eyes are red and irritated with the remains of her smeared makeup, and it makes me want to take her into my arms and comfort her the way she deserves, but I refuse to put my hands on her in any way. I don’t trust myself right now, and I refuse to put her in any kind of situation while she has been drinking.
Pulling back the blanket on the bed, I watch as she lays on her side. Her eyes droop as she mumbles something about me being nice and what I think was a thank you.
It only takes her a few seconds to pass out. Now, she’s fast asleep in her bed as I stand there in the dimly lit room. I can’t help but watch her, my emotions at war with my better judgment. Her wet, wavy hair frames her face and her eyelashes cast delicate shadows on her cheeks. The way she sleeps, so vulnerable and unaware, stirs something deep within me.
She looks at peace.
Walking into her bathroom, I find a package of makeup remover wipes and pull one out. I remember my mom saying itwas never good to sleep with makeup on, and the shower only smeared it more.
Walking back to her bedside, I sit down slowly, not wanting to wake her as I press the clean wipe to her face. She doesn’t move a muscle as I take off what I can. I know I didn’t do a good job and she will have to take another wipe to her face in the morning, but I got most of the smudging off.
I know I shouldn’t be here, standing in her room, gazing at her in this private moment as I remove the remains of her bad night. It feels like an intrusion, a violation of her space, but I can’t help myself. The way her lips part lightly as she breathes, the innocence shining through her relaxed expression… It’s captivating. She’s stunning. It makes me wonder what her lips would look like wrapped around my co–
What? No. Nope. Time to go.
With a heavy sigh, I quietly stand and toss the wipe in the trash before retreating into the shadows of the hallway. I know I shouldn’t stay, yet I can’t get myself to actually leave. With a final, lingering look at her sleeping form, I turn away and disappear into the living room, grabbing a blanket off the couch and plopping down, ready to relax before I need to head to the bar to close up.
Chapter Five
Kallie
I wake up ina light sweat. The aftereffects from the alcohol are thankfully gone, minus the headache I can feel creeping up behind my eyes. My mind goes back to the man who took over my dreams, the one man I shouldn’t be having insanely hot sex dreams about. Even just lying here, I can feel the wetness between my legs, coating my underwear—that I’m surprised I even managed to put on last night.
Lance is forbidden, someone I could only dream about, but I guess I shouldn’t be doing that either.
I reach under the blanket between my legs, gasping at how sensitive I am when my fingers touch my clit. My mind goes back to imagining Lance’s hands on my skin. Alex wasn’t ever reallyinto foreplay and only worried about himself, so our nights usually ended with me getting myself off after he’d fallen asleep.
Reaching over, I open the nightstand and grab the vibrator I brought for this exact occasion. I know I’ll never actually have Lance, but I guess it won’t hurt anyone if I fantasize about having him, right? As I place the tip of it on my clit, my hips buck upward. The images of Lance running his hands along my body enter my mind, his naked chest above me as his fingers slowly enter me, pumping into me, the words I could imagine him whispering in my ear as he gets me off with only his fingers.“Such a good girl for me, Kallie.”
Euphoria washes over me, and I can feel the finish line coming closer just as the hum of the fan I had going in the corner turns off, and everything goes silent. My body jerks up, and the orgasm I was desperate for vanishes.
“What the hell?” I throw myself back down on the bed and let out a yell of frustration as I stare at the dark ceiling.
Seconds later, the bedroom door is thrown open, and a real scream leaves my mouth as I look around for something to protect myself with, but I only have the sex toy in my hand. I look at it and decide it’ll at least give me a head start. In a split-second decision, I throw the purple vibrator at the intruder as hard as I can.
