Jack & Kayla (Imperfect Love Series) Page 15

  Dinner may not be going so well, but at least I’m seeing the real Boyd. And he’s seeing the real me. We’re not playing games or putting on a front.

  I smile and it catches him unawares. He drops his fork to his plate and frowns as if my smile heralds bad news. “What?”

  My smile grows wider and I say, “I like you.”

  His brows descend and it’s sexy, the way his eyes shine beneath them. “You like me?” he asks, giving nothing away.

  “Uh-huh.”

  He looks away for a second or two and I can see his jaw flexing. There’s a brightness to his eyes when he says, “Guess I like you too, Boots.”

  And suddenly everything is okay. I like that after all the arguing it can be this easy with him.

  When dinner is over and he’s left a tip generous enough to excuse his earlier rudeness, he takes hold of my hand. “Tube or cab?” he asks.

  “Tube.”

  “Tube it is.”

  It’s not that late and the trains are still busy. He shields me from the crush of bodies, the sway of the train prompting an erotic brush of the thigh, a collision of chest and ribs. His hand comes around my back, holding me against him, his mouth hot against my ear.

  It’s painful, being this close, unable to reach out and touch him the way I’d like. I bury my face against his neck, closing my eyes, inhaling his smell, my hand flat against his chest, picking up the beat of his heart.

  The walk to his apartment is fast, half-running, half-walking to keep up with his long strides. The elevator takes its own sweet time. We wait, motionless, staring straight ahead, our fingers linked.

  When we reach his floor he leads me down the corridor, cursing when he selects the wrong key.

  Now we’re alone.

  The urgency magnifies and Boyd spins me round so that my back is to the door and he’s pressed up against me, his cock hard against my stomach. I want to touch him, to feel him beneath my fingers. Seems he wants that too. He unzips his pants, and pulls down the front of his boxers, taking my hand and wrapping my fingers around his thick shaft, groaning and shuddering when I gently squeeze and tug down towards the base.

  Mouth on mine, tongue seeking entry, he lifts my skirt, his fingers delving beneath the fabric at the apex of my thighs. Our groans intermingle and we take time out from the kiss when his fingers sink inside, stroking and rubbing where I need it most.

  Already I’m on the cusp of coming, but it’s too soon. I want Boyd inside me when it happens. “Bed,” I mumble, incapable of anything beyond the simplest of words.

  Boyd zips his pants and takes my hand once more, leading me to his room.

  He closes the door and leans against it, his arms crossed, feet spread. “Take off your clothes.”

  The light is on, bright enough to chase away the shadows in all four corners of the room. I’m not sure I can do this. Having Boyd watch while I remove my clothes, that definitely takes a certain kind of confidence.

  I’m about to shake my head when he says, “You want me to go first?”

  I think I’d like that; not just the going first part, but the opportunity to feast my eyes on his naked body. I’ve seen him naked before of course, but more as a series of snapshots in the heat of the moment.

  Watching him kick off his boots and drop his socks to the floor, it’s almost erotic, the knowledge of where this is heading. His shirt is next. He lifts his arms, tugging at the fabric between his shoulder blades to reveal his torso, muscled and tattoo-free. Now he’s reaching for the zipper on his pants again. Is it my imagination or do his fingers linger? My eyes are fixed on his groin, pleading for the zipper to commence its journey. When it does, it’s swift. He pushes down his pants and boxers in one smooth movement and kicks them free.

  He’s erect, cock jerking against his stomach, legs powerful, feet planted firmly. “Your turn,” he says.

  My eyes, otherwise engaged, snap back to his. His lids are part-way closed, his mouth a tense line.

  Unlike him, I don’t kick off my heels. I’m vain enough to keep them on knowing how they elongate my legs and push out my butt. I unzip my skirt and let gravity take care of the rest. It pools at my feet, leaving me in my shirt and briefs. Boyd watches on, rarely blinking, if at all. I reach for the lowest button, popping it free before moving higher. With the last button free, I shrug off my shirt.

  “Keep going.”

  It sounds like an order rather than encouragement. Either way, his voice is gravelly and sexy, but as much as I want to continue, I can’t. Boyd pushes away from the door and comes to stand in front of me, not touching, simply looking. His mouth drops to mine, his kiss dominant as his hands roam up my spine, searching for and releasing the hooks of my bra. It falls to the floor and his fingers are already skimming over my hips, hooking in my briefs, pushing them down. Breaking the kiss I balance on one foot, my hands gripping his shoulder as I kick my panties free.

  Boyd’s moving now, walking me towards the bed, one hand curled around my buttock, the other on my hip, guiding me until the backs of my legs hit the mattress and we’re falling. He takes his weight on his hands and locks his arms as I scoot towards the pillows, my heels digging into the duvet. Boyd follows my movements, his palms sliding up my thighs as his mouth lands hot against my breast. His tongue dampens my nipple, sucking and stroking before his teeth nip. I make a muffled sound and Boyd lifts his head, his grin sexy, his narrowed eyes warming my belly.

  Releasing my nipple, he traces a path down my stomach, his breath hot and damp as it falls between my thighs.

  Oh, shit! I’m not sure I can handle this. When the sight alone is breathtaking, how am I supposed to withstand the actual deed? I mean, this is Boyd and he’s hot and when we’re together ...

  Hot damn!

  He’s there and I’m writhing beneath him, forcing him to hold me in place while he does what he does, and it’s building so fast I don’t think I can stop myself from coming.

  “Boyd, I’m gonna ...”

  It hits fast and hard, centred between my thighs, washing through my body, leaving me panting and weak. I can hear Boyd opening the drawer, hear the rustle of the condom packet. I’m not even close to coming down when his mouth begins trailing upwards, towards my breast, sucking again, lightly this time, intuitive enough to know I’m super sensitive. His mouth comes down on my lips, demanding more as his cock nudges between my thighs, hot and hard, pushing into me until I’m full. He moves slowly, building my need, his fingers at my nipple, firmer now, rubbing and pinching. Faster now, his hips are pumping and I’m cresting again, my hands shifting down to his buttocks, urging him on.

  “You gonna come again?”

  I lift my eyelids, the sight of him moving over me, his muscles tight, his face tighter still, pushing me closer.

  “Boyd ...”

  “Yeah, you are.” His fingers spread between us, finding me, the pressure tipping me over as he thrusts and grinds. I’m falling again and Boyd’s pulsing and coming, his arms folding as he collapses against me, his face hot against my neck, his chest heaving.

  Later, when our breathing has calmed and his weight becomes too much, he rolls to his back and takes me with him. I take the opportunity to rest my hands on his chest, pushing up so I can gaze down on him. His lids are low and I’m beginning to love this expression of his, the one that tells me he’s satiated. I lean down to kiss him, my hands running through his hair, thick and longer now, dark strands falling over his forehead.

  I’m feeling languid, submerged in the afterglow of two orgasms. I find myself saying, “Never, ever before.”

  His hands skim down my back and over my buttocks. “Never, ever before what?”

  “Two orgasms back to back. Thank you.”

  He stares and I can’t make out what he’s thinking when his eyelids are half-mast like that.

  “No problem,” he says.

  I expected at least a hint of satisfaction. Shouldn’t he be wallowing in male pride right now? Or maybe giving a girl t
wo orgasms is normal for him. He’s had more than his fair share of sexual encounters so it’s not like he hasn’t had the practise. I hate this thought. “Is that normal? I mean, did it happen when you had sex with other girls?”

  Boyd’s expression darkens. “I’m still inside you and you’re asking about my sex life?”

  I sigh. “Too weird, right? It’s just, I haven’t before and you seem to be taking this in your stride and I thought maybe―”

  “Okay, enough.” He rolls me to my back and withdraws, climbing from the bed and heading out of the room.

  I lay there confused and a little hurt, knowing I touched a raw nerve, knowing too that it was the wrong time for me to have broached the subject. I’m semi-asleep when the mattress dips and his arm comes around my waist to pull me closer.

  “It was a stupid question.” I say.

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s not like I wanted to know about them, it’s just I was curious ...”

  “You’re not going to let this drop, are you?”

  “I will. I promise. I don’t even know why I asked.”

  He rolls to his back and I miss the contact already, so much so that I turn and twist until I’m aligned along his length.

  “This is how it was,” he says, addressing the ceiling. “Crude and callous as it sounds, those girls didn’t mean a thing, except as a way to get off. I did what I needed to do and they seemed to like it, but I wasn’t exactly putting in the effort. With you, I ...” His Adam’s apple ripples as he swallows and I can hear the emotion running through his voice. “I wanna give you more. Fuck, that’s wrong. I want to give you back what you’re giving me.”

  My silence has him turning his head. My eyes are watery when I say, “Thank you.”

  He seems taken aback. “For what?”

  “For opening up. For giving me two spectacular orgasms.”

  “Spectacular?”

  “Uh-hmmm.”

  He rolls, kisses me on the mouth and says, “Go to sleep.”

  I’m about to do as he says, when a thought crosses my mind. “Uh, Boyd, you forgot to call Molly.”

  “Shit. So I did. I’ll call her tomorrow.”

  I turn in my narrow space on the mattress and Boyd comes up behind me, his arm once again round my waist. This is how we fall asleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  I Like You

  JACK

  My phone is vibrating in my back pocket. I’m enjoying a few beers with Mace and Tag, but I check it anyway, making sure it’s not Kayla. Hers is the only call I’ll answer tonight.

  It’s Molly. The fourth time this week. I let it go to voicemail. I thought she was making progress, finally getting her life together, but since the night I forgot to call her back she’s become more demanding. I want to help her, but it’s getting too much.

  Tag’s sitting opposite, watching. He’s too observant. “That Molly?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How many times this week?”

  “Four. How ‘bout you?”

  “None this week, one last. Kept me on the phone for an hour.”

  Mason glances between us. “She still calling you?”

  “Worse than before. She fell out with her in-laws and now she says her parents don’t understand her. She’s still not back at work. Got too much fucking time on her hands.”

  Tag leans back in his chair. “How’s Kayla dealing?”

  I glance up, on the defensive. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, is she pissed that Molly’s always on the phone?”

  “Kayla’s not like that. Anyway, she and Molly have met, they get along fine.”

  Tag looks doubtful and he swaps a glance with Mace.

  I’m missing something here. “What? You think I got it wrong?”

  Mace takes a sip from his beer and places it back on the table before stating, “You want Kayla taking some guy’s calls three or four times a week?”

  Shit, now I get it, but there’s no escaping the situation, not with Molly carrying on the way she is. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t call time on Molly, not until she’s back to where she was before Harry died, and Christ knows how long that’ll take. It’s like she doesn’t want to move on.”

  “She’s moving on―she’s replacing Harry with you,” Tag says.

  His theory is a sock to the stomach. “What?”

  “She can’t operate without a guy in her life. Before Harry it was a guy called Oliver. He quit on her five weeks after they got engaged. Said she was too needy.”

  “Are you shitting me? How do you know this shit?”

  “I know Oliver’s brother. Only reason it worked between her and Harry was because he was out of the country for months at a time. She couldn’t suffocate him.”

  “If you knew this why the fuck didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  Tag shrugs, his gaze heavy. “Didn’t think she’d transfer onto you, plus you and Kayla weren’t an item back then.”

  I’m still not used to comments like that. We’ve only been together a few weeks and it’s still fresh. I’m still trying to reconcile the person she is to the person I thought I wanted. Hot tempered was never on my agenda; cool and calm was. There’s not much about Kayla that’s cool and calm. But I only have to think about her beneath me and suddenly cool and calm is the furthest thing from my mind.

  Besides, she’s kind of cute when she glares at me and flails her hands around like she’s about to explode. Sometimes I miss what she’s saying, I’m so immersed in the visuals, watching her hands whirl, her chest rising and falling because she’s speaking too fast to draw in a breath. Yeah, fuck cool and calm.

  “If you like, I can have a word,” Tag offers.

  I shake my head, not about to pass the load. “No, I’ll do it. See if I can find out what she’s thinking, let her down easy if I need to.”

  “If you’re sure,” says Tag.

  “I’m sure.”

  Mason nods in agreement. “The sooner you talk to her, the better. You know what Kayla’s like. She might be okay with Molly right now, but if she ever finds out she’s hung up on you, man, I’d like to see that fight.”

  “Cheers, Mace. I’ll make sure you get ring side tickets.” He takes my sarcasm on the chin, least I think he does. With his dark beard it’s not so easy to make out his expression anymore. “Right,” I say, rising to my feet. “My round. When I get back there’s something I wanna talk about.”

  Tonight’s a Wednesday so the bar’s half-empty. There’s a couple of men on the table next to ours and further down there’s a group of women, wearing tight skirts and equally tight shirts, the fabric pulled taut across their breasts.

  Murphy’s is a sports bar, though sport’s thin on the ground tonight. The TVs are switched to music channels and the guy behind the bar is staring at the screen watching a dancer twerk. She’s hot, but Kayla’s got a better arse. Just as I finish giving the guy my order one of the city girls approaches, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder. She aims her body at mine when she leans an elbow on the bar. It’s an invitation to talk. Curiosity has me looking her way.

  She’s smiling, her white teeth on show, her shirt buttons open low enough to reveal an inch of boob. “Hi, my name’s Brooke. My friends and I were wondering if you and your buddies would like to join us. We’re a friendly bunch and we’re happy to buy you all a drink.”

  It’s a first. I’m not against equal rights, in fact I’m all for them, but I’m used to doing the approaching. “Thanks, but I’m taken and so’s the guy with the beard and tatts. You want, I could put in a word with the big guy.” Tag’s about my size, maybe a little heavier. Unlike me, he’s maintained the buzz cut from his army days.

  She eyes him up and down and I can see her almost salivating. “Sure. Tell him Brooke says hello.” She gives me a long glance and I get the impression that Mace, Tag and me, we’re all the same to her.

  Back at the table I hand out the beers and pass on the message to Tag. He glances at
their table, but it’s clear he’s not interested. He has someone, I think. Mace has seen the name Dizzy crop up on his phone. If Mace hadn’t seen that, I’d be curious. I know Tag likes women. Seen him with enough, but none the last year or so. Not sure why he’s keeping her quiet. Maybe she’s married. Shit, I thought I knew Tag, but now I’m not so sure.

  “What did you want to talk about?” Mace asks.

  “This goes no further?” I wait for their confirmation before continuing. “Kayla came out of work the other night and bumped into her ex.”

  Mason interrupts. “Jono, the stoner?”

  “No, before him she dated a guy called Liam Berwick. Guy was a dick. Abused her physically and mentally, did time as a result.”

  “Kayla?”

  Mason’s frowning and I get why he’s shocked. She acts tough, but I’m beginning to comprehend she’s soft as those chocolates with the caramel centres she likes so much. “Broke her ribs and tried to strangle her. I’ve gathered as much information as I can on him, but the guy’s not showing up on social media, though it could be he’s using a different name.

  “There’s restrictions at my workplace so I’ve had to run searches from home. I’ve found press reports on his conviction and there’s a guy with the same name and age who works for a shipping company in the City, but that’s about it. The thing that concerns me most is that he knows where Kayla works. It wouldn’t be difficult for him to follow her and find out where she lives, if he hasn’t already.”

  “You think he’s gonna try something?” asks Tag, watching me closely.

  “Dicks like him hold grudges and I’m not taking any chances.”

  “You want help?” Tag asks.

  “Yeah. First I need to stake out that shipping company, see if it’s the same guy. If so, I want him followed.”

  “You find out it’s him, I can do the morning shift,” offers Mace. “Go straight from the club to his.”