Page 24 of Kandie Shoppe

“Because it’s my roof. Why were you in my alleyway? You stalking me?” Leaning against the doorjamb, I take a swig straight from the bottle while blocking him from steppingfurther into my place. He’ll have to kill me right here, and I’m not going to make it easy for his low-down tail.

“I asked you a fucking question,” he thunders with a quiet ferocity that sends wild pulses straight to my kittykat. Damn, he’s sexy when he’s all mean, and why do I like that so much? More stuff I’m not about to evaluate.

“Boy, if you don’t get out from in front of my door with this bullshit. I’m about to have company and you are a big ass hinderance to my plans if you must know,” I say, hoping that he’ll believe the lie and leave. Moving to take another fake sip, I gasp when he snatches the bottle, throwing it behind him into the side street.

“What the fuck?” I screech at him, seeing the bottle smashing against the asphalt of my pristine side street. Lunging at him, I shove at his big chest. “That’s going to stain the street,” I yell at him. “Your uncouth ass is going to clean that up. I’m sending the city the bill for power washing my street.”

Trying to get past his big body is fruitless, especially when he grabs me by my waist, hoisting my body high. No matter how much I kick, I can’t dislodge him.

Kicking my door closed, he stalks over to my bed, tossing me on it.

“Call him,” he orders, turning, going over to the door, locking it.

Turning back to me, he comes back to the bed, his chest heaving like he’s ran the whole length of the town ten times.

“Do as I say,” he says in a low, deadly tone.

“Huh? You sound dumb as fuck.” I lean on one arm, sizing him up, raking my eyes over him from head to toe. Crossing one leg over the other, I kick it out idly.

“Who are you having to come fuck you this time?” he asks in an awful voice, like it’s a different person every night.

Trying so hard not to let it bother me, I tilt my head to the side. “Why do you care? Don’t you need to go over to LaShaun’s house and give her some of your little dick and drink a gallon of that diabetes tea?” I grin wildly to cover the hurt and jealousy eating at me since I saw the way he was looking at her at the church’s bake sale.

“Funny, you didn’t have any complaints when you used to beg to wrap both sets of those pretty ass lips around it.” His eyes train on my legs for a hot minute before his eyes meet mine. The heat there would incinerate a lesser woman. I’m made of sterner stuff — well, kinda.

“Good thing I don’t do charity cases anymore.” I smirk. Then for some reason I want to push him, maybe even hurt him a little when I say, “Plus, I didn’t know any better then. I’ve had way better than your dumb fumbling and poking and missed plays, which was kinda like your football playing, really.” Everybody knows when and why his football career died — the same time his daddy did. I’m almost too mad to care — almost.

Silence drops between us like a death knell. The atmosphere is so charged it’s like when a nuke sucks all the energy into itself right before it releases annihilating pressure.

He stands incredibly still. He holds himself so still it’s frightening and exhilarating at the same time.

Tilting his head, he shuts his eyes tight, like he’s fighting a battle for his entire soul. His jaw tics. His neck flexes. He swallows so hard his Adam’s apple bobs. Chest expanding, he drops his head into his chest and inhales deeply. Then again, and again.

I know the moment he’s given up the fight. It’s when he trains those ice blue orbs on me. Muscles ticking in his jaw, flexing his arms, he drops down to the bed. I scramble back, trying to get off the other side. He snatches my legs, drawing meclose to him as he cages my body beneath his. Burying his head in my neck, I can feel the warm heat as he breathes me in.

“Let’s put that theory to the test, shall we?” The low rumble sends vibrations cascading through my body, settling low in my belly. I would squeeze my thighs to alleviate the pressure, but Ulysses is the pressure. He’s squeezed tightly against me. His dick is hard against my pussy. I can feel myself already getting wet for him. Soon he will know it too.

“Wildcat,” he whispers, calling me the name he has for me.

Turning to meet his heated twin flames of blue, I ask, “Yes?” My voice sounds soft, like a welcome.

He shifts and I can’t help but respond. My legs open more for him. I want to bite him, just till I almost break the skin just a little, maybe a lot, but I want his flesh in my mouth.

“Did you miss me — just a little?” There’s a sweet vulnerability there. Defenses I’ve taken years to put into place seem to melt away like an icy cup in the summer.

“You know I did.” Not able to meet his eyes, I look at his firm lips instead. Why did I do that? He licks his bottom lip before biting it. I bite my own lip to keep from biting his.

Tipping my chin, he makes me look at him. “You know what I’m asking.”

“Yeah.” I nod.

“Are you going to let me taste your sweetness?” The sound of his voice sends reverberations through mine. We aren’t fighting anymore. I nod.

“Are you going to let me split you apart and find my home in your hot little pussy?” Liquid heat slips past my pussy lips. His eyes dip down. He knows, but just waits for the answer my body’s already giving him.

“Yeah.” The word escapes on a gasp as I feel him flex.

“Are you going to clean up your mess like a good girl?” His voice is rough as he rubs the scarred side of his face against mineagain, waiting. My body clenches. He pulls back his piercing blue gaze, demanding that I answer.

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