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“Thank you,” she said once she was settled in.
The agitation, guilt, and utter frustration vanished. I don’t know how she did it, but Kylie acted as a balm on my black and hollow soul. Somehow, she made me forget. Made me feel human. Silenced the constant screaming and the nagging doubt. Grateful for the distraction, I winked. Hopefully, flirting would keep me from thinking too much, both about Rémy, and how different I felt around Kylie.
“You're welcome.” I grinned and closed her door, then shoved my hands in my pockets and rounded back to the driver’s side, exhaling a long breath that puffed out a misty cloud in the frigid winter air. I could do this. I needed to do this. A hot tumble with a hot woman sounded like the perfect way to dig out from under the landslide of shit Rémy's phone call buried me under.
I pulled out onto the streets of Atlanta and, to my dismay, the stomach-cramping nerves returned, along with a nice fat dose of uncertainty. It started as an innocent, “Maybe this was a mistake” and quickly progressed to “What the hell was I thinking?”
The cab began to shrink around me, and it became difficult to concentrate on the road. Shit. I couldn't do this. Why did I think I could invite a woman into my home? It wasn’t something I did.
I glanced at Kylie. Going by how happy she looked, she felt the complete opposite. Kylie really wanted this. Wanted me. Her cheeks were flushed and healthy and small smile played on her lips. Hell, her skin practically glowed.
“So, where are we going? Another hotel?”
I laughed and glanced over before I returned my attention to the slow-moving traffic. “Am I that predictable?”
Kylie paused, then said, “I’m not sure. I don't really know you.”
I brought the truck to a stop at a red light and turned to face Kylie. Was I that predictable? I squirmed under Kylie’s scrutiny and the verbal diarrhea began. “This is kinda, um, new territory for me. Bringing someone to, uh, my place. That's where we’re going. I don't… I haven't… No one goes there.” I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, not at all comfortable discussing my social proclivities.
For the first time in a long time, I felt ashamed. Ashamed at the way I treated women, as if they were disposable playthings. Ashamed that Kylie assumed I brought every woman I met to a hotel for a quick fuck, not that she was wrong, mind you. That was exactly what I did, unless the woman lived nearby, then I went to her place for, um… yeah, okay fine, for a quick fuck.
Kylie deserved better than that.
She looked like she was about to say something, but the light switched to green before she got the chance. I tore my gaze away and immersed myself in making sure I didn’t drive off the road. Kylie remained silent for several minutes. When she finally spoke, she caught me by surprise.
“Why me?”
Huh?
“Why you?”
“Yes. Why are you bringing me to your place? You said you don’t do that, so I want to know, why me?”
I repeated the question to myself and tried to come up with an excuse that wasn’t shallow, “because you're smoking hot and I can't wait for your roommate to leave so I can hold you down and slam into you from behind” or utterly ridiculous, “because for whatever reason, it seems that you're the only one who can tame my fury” and came up blank. After a few more moments of awkward silence, I decided the only thing to do was answer as honestly as possible without pissing Kylie off.
“I have no idea.”
I shrugged so she wouldn’t think being invited to my place was a big deal. I didn’t want to risk her reading into it and getting
all attached like Amanda. That, I definitely didn't need. Kylie was either satisfied by my non-answer or annoyed, because there were no more questions after that.
I unclenched when we reached our destination. The ride was short, but it felt like I went three rounds with Georges St-Pierre. I shifted to slide out of the truck, beyond grateful to leave the close quarters of the truck's cab. The stifling closeness was driving me fucking insane. Intense stares, luscious lips, and that goddamned heavenly citrus scent, made me half-hard and wholly frustrated. I desperately needed some fresh air.
And because I’m an idiot, instead of opening the door and clearing my head, I turned to Kylie, who hadn’t moved, and almost choked on my tongue. One of her slick lips, lips I envisioned wrapped around my cock, was caught between her teeth. I stared, jealous of those teeth. I wanted to be the one to bite on that soft, pink flesh.
“Uh,” I shook off the image of those lips wrapped around my cock. “Are you okay?” I asked.
Please don't tell me you changed your mind. I need this. I need you.
I wanted to get her upstairs and would say whatever it took to make it happen.
Kylie stared out the window. “I know this is probably something you do a lot,” she waved a hand around. “Except, like you said, the part about going to your place. But… um, you should know, this, it isn't something I do. I mean, I did do it, with you, that one time, at the hotel. But that’s, um, it.”
I stared at her, confused. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
She let out an adorable huff and lifted her gaze to mine. “Having sex with strangers. It's not like me. I don’t do that.” She frowned and her nose crinkled. “Only, I guess it is like me, because I did it, but only with you.”
I might have stopped breathing. “Wait. You’re saying, I mean, what you're saying is, you don't do casual hookups and that I’m the exception to the rule? Me?”
