AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No,” she begs, looking petrified. “No, Kat, I can't, I—”
“Yep!” she interrupts her as she eyes my body entirely, tipping her head to the side and peering at both my arms from shoulder to wrist.
I look down at my arms, wondering if I have massive sweat stains on my loose-fitting casual tee or something, before facing her Inspector Gadget eyes again.
“She'll be dressed and ready in ten.”
The door closes abruptly, and I stand there in complete confusion. I hear murmured yelling on the other side of the door, but decide to take a seat in the hallway and wait.
Eleven minutes later, Dylan gets pushed through the door. She stumbles into the hallway and my eyes trail up from the floor, taking her in. Black booties lead to black tights covering her toned, lean legs, leading up to a flowery black V-neck dress covered in red and pink roses that ends at her thighs, exposing those plump, round breasts I've come to obsess over. She wears a leather jacket over the dress with her long, honey hair flipped over one shoulder, exposing her slender neck. Lipstick. She's wearing red lipstick.
“Jesus, fuck,” I murmur, then remember I still need to get up off the floor.
She shrugs lightly, and I hate her modesty. She needs to own her fucking hot-ass body. Is she stupid?! No, blind. She must be partially blind. Maybe it's just in one eye? Either way, she can't see herself clearly like I can. Stunning is the only word that comes to mind.
We hop in my truck as I make the drive to O'Leary's. I keep glancing over at her in the dimly lit truck, listening to light country music in the background as she fiddles with a loose string at the end of her dress.
“You look...really nice,” I say, trying to ease whatever tension she's holding onto.
She laughs lightly. “It's old.” She looks down at her dress. “I don't get out a lot. Or ever.”
“Do you routinely deny compliments, or is it just with me?” I reply snarkily.
“When the compliments come from the guy who initially called mestale, they tend to be a tad harder to accept,” she deadpans.
Oof. Head shot.
I lick my teeth, gripping the wheel tighter. “To be fair, I enjoy a good stale chip,” I state, my eyes on the road. “The crunch surprises you. It’s different than it should be. Unexpected.”
She smiles. “In the worst possible way. But I admire the glass half-full attempt.”
I peer at her smile, letting it warm me entirely before I say, “To be honest, I was just angry at the world, and I didn't know you yet.”
Her smile fades as she gazes at me, thinking, contemplating her next words as if knowing they'll come off wrong.
“I still don't know you.”
Her words tear through the truck, suddenly making the space seem even smaller than before. My heart pinches in my chest at the truth.
“I still don't know me,” I reply, chuckling lightly before turning onto the highway. “But that's not stopping me from growing and learning more.”
That makes her pause. Guess there is no good comeback to self-growth. However, I have definitely been more stingy with the complexities of my life. My mother's illness, the fact that my father, who's a total deadbeat, did horrific things to us that have changed who we are, or the fact that my drive to get back to being the famed face of football isn't entirely for me. Yeah, I've been holding back, hanging onto my secrets, especially considering everything she's exposed to me about hers.
We ride in silence as the street lights pass overhead, allowing the orange light to illuminate her dress in quick waves. I steal another glance as she peers out of the window, noting the small pills that have collected on the fabric of her dress from multiple washes.
She has no idea that, to me, she's more beautiful in something worn and ratted than any other woman in designer clothes. But it's not even that. It makes me sad because I want to give her the best of everything. She deserves it more than anyone. But accepting anything is difficult for a woman of her strength. She won't take anything from anyone, only finds ways to get it herself. Selfless women are my Achilles heel.
That I'm even thinking about how she aligns with the woman I love and admire most startles me.What are you doing, Lake?
We finally pull up to O'Leary's, noting a collection of fine sports cars, Jeeps, and expensive trucks already parked.
Opening her door, I hold out my hand to help her down from the heightened cab. She stumbles into me, and I quickly wrap my arms around her.
“Shit,” she murmurs, her face inches from mine. “I'm not used to heels.”
I hold her firmly to my chest, feeling her breasts press against me. My lips part, aching to kiss hers, and it takes my breath away.Those gorgeous lips were just wrapped around your cock, Lake. Your cum dripping down them, sexy as ever.
“I see that,” I whisper, unable to look away, feeling a certain warmth fill my chest.
