Kean would get a couple bids and I wouldn’t do anything.
However the auction went, Kean and I would share some suggestive looks, maybe exchange some flirty words, but nothing would happen.
Maybehe’d hold my hand again. Or dance with me.
Never, not in my wildest dreams, did I imagine Kean saying he was so down bad for me, he was damn near obsessed. Never did I think he’d admit that all his weird behavior was from a place of jealousy. Andneverwould I think I’d give anhonestanswer about what I wanted from him.
I’d like to blame it on the fact that I was surprised. But between his swoon-worthy speech and those goddamn suspenders I wanted him to tie me up with, I just couldn’t help it.
And while saying I wanted Kean to pin me down wasn’t themostimpulsive thing I’ve done, it was probably the most rewarded impulsive thing. Because as soon as those words left my mouth, his lips were on mine.
Andfuckcould this man kiss. His hands went to my waist, fingers splayed across my back, tugging me closer so my pelvis pressed against his. The first kiss, he licked into my mouth and immediately groaned, the sound reverberating through me, all the way down to my cunt. The feel of his tongue against mine set all my nerves on edge, a blast of heat coursing through my body.
With negative willpower to fight howgoodit felt to be kissed and with so much pent-up desire, I crossed my arms behind his neck and pulled myself up so I could wrap my legs around him. Thank god I went with a dress with a high slit. As soon as my legs found a steady spot, Kean moved his hands to my ass, grip tight as he pulled me closer to him and pushed my back against the column.
“Kean,” I said through heavy pants, not sure if I wanted to tell him something or just say his name. Kean grunted in response, shuffling my weight onto his forearm so a hand could slide up my neck and tangle into my hair, his kiss intensifying, deepening,hardening. Hard like the damn rod grinding against my cunt. And —
“You taste like whiskey.” Maybe I was too lust high to realize it the first few kisses, but as soon as I tasted the burn of alcohol, I was whatever the sober version of horniness was. “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”
As I pulled back from Kean, his shoulders stiffened.
“I’m not. It was just a couple of shots." His grip in my hair tightening even as his other hand lowered my ass so I could unravel myself from him.
“A couple?” I said skeptically.
“Fine, three or four. But that’s not enough to get me drunk.”
With my feet solidly on the ground, I set both hands on Kean’s chest and pushed until his hands slipped away.
I didn’t do drunk hookups anymore. One too many times I’d said things I didn’t mean, exaggerated a point, or even fucked somebody I didn’t really care about while drunk or tipsy. And sometimes I’ve been the one guys regretted bringing home the morning after, which was the wake-up call I needed to quit drunk/tipsy hookups all together.
And after everything Kean just said and the way it hit me, if I slept with him and he woke up the next morning regretting it, I’d literally crawl into a hole and die.
So yeah, no fucking Kean while he’s even a little bit drunk.
“You’re not needed for the rest of the gala, right? It’d probably be nice for you to visit the owners' table, but not talking to them is better than talking to them drunk. So let’s go.”
“Kodi, I’m really not —” he started to say, but stopped when I looped my arm around his and started us down the gazebo stairs.
“Did you drive? I carpooled with Jimenez and Rosa, so I can drive you and take a cab back to my place.”
When we reached the bottom of the steps, Kean stopped. And when I turned to look at him, his eyes were narrowed on me, the hard-set grumpiness back in place. I straightened my back, trying to look like I meant business. Kean seemed to buy it, sighing and fishing his keys out of his pockets.
“Sure. Whatever you say, Kodi.”
“Good.” I nodded my head and, tightening my grip on his arm, walked us straight towards to parking lot, avoiding re-enteringthe building so I didn’t have to face Rosa. I’m not sure if a few kisses was enough to mess up my makeup, but I justknewshe’d be able to tell what happened by looking at me. I was beginning to understand that Rosa loved to watch gossip, specifically romantic gossip, unfold. And getting it from a friend rather than some reality show was all the more entertainment. Normally, I’d be all for gabbing about how hot and romantic the kiss, but him being drunk soured the mood.
At his car, I opened the door for Kean and he raised an eyebrow at me, shaking his head before getting in. I walked around, but before getting in myself, I took a second to lean back and groan. God, it was just my luck that Kean would only confess to me when he’s drunk. I really must have scarred someone with my flashing incident for all my Dastard-related wishes to be thwarted like this.
I guess on the bright side, I had ample material for my spank bank now.
Sighing, I got into the car, specifically not looking over at Kean as I adjusted the seat and mirrors. It wasn’t until I was settled and backing out of the parking spot that I chanced a glance at him.
His lips were set in a deep frown, eyes downcast as he fiddled with a roll of athletic tape he must’ve had in here for re-wrapping. He unwound a long strand, ripping it off before looping it over one wrist then the other. He pulled his hands apart and the tape tore with a loud rip. Kean hummed and pulled it off his skin.
“What’re you doing?” I asked, brow pinched.
“You said you wanted me to pin you down. I thought tying you up might be a nice way to do that. Was curious if athletic tape would work.”
