Page 7 of Wanting What's Wrong

But nothing prepared me for today. Nothing prepared me for her scent, her cherry lips, the dimple on her left cheek. Theway her body has blossomed. Nothing could prepare me for the way her dress shows off her nipples, and the way her tits jiggle with every rattle of the Jeep.

Blood surged to my cock as soon as I saw her and it hasn’t stopped since. Her girl-next-door- blonde hair was windswept and wild down below her shoulders now. She’s got two little strands pulled back, held in place with a little Felix the Cat barrette.

She’s wearing the little gold star earrings mom and dad gave her for her sweet sixteen. The curve of her legs comes out from the sweet hem of her sundress. Her fingernails and toenails are pink like I imagine her nipples. She’s wearing her signature red dollar stores flip-flops but what’s the best are those dimples.

Jesus Christ, those dimples.

“Trent?” Her words yank me out of my lust-haze. She snaps a few times in my face. Bratty little sweetheart. “The limo. Explain the freaking limo. And the watch.”

She’s always been like this—straight to the point. Sweet with a sting. Since the very first day.

Her dad married my mom when I was ten and she was three. I still remember the first day I met her. She put her hands on her hips, looked up at me, and said, “I don’tneeda big brother!”

But she got one anyway and the truth was, she did need me. Our home was safe, but our neighborhood wasn’t. I cut my teeth in vacant lots, out back behind shitty bungalows with bars on the windows and rusted chain link. I was a scrappy fighter, dirty and ruthless. But never more ruthless than when it was her that I had to protect—as that little fucktard Henry Weaver found out.

She snaps her fingers between us. “Oh my god. I’m going to have to blame the jet lag because you’re making me crazy. Trent. Limo. Tell.”

Right, right. There’s a time for a trip down memory lane, but this isn’t it. “It’s my dad.”

She glances away from the road, meeting my eyes, her sweet, plump lips open for a breath before she asks, “Whatdad?Your sperm donor dad?”

“Yeah. He died. A month ago.” I take a deep breath. I don’t know how to say this except to just fucking rip the Band-Aid off. “And apparently I’m hisheir.”

Kat blinks a few times. “Hisheir?Heir to what? Because the last thing I heard about him, he was a deadbeat dad without a pot to piss in, a fifth of Jack in the glovebox, and no clue how to be what you needed in your life.”

Boom.Sweet with a sting, like I said. And she’s exactly right. “Yeah. This fucking universe, Kitty Kat, it has a sense of humor.”

“What do you mean?”

“He won the lottery. In abigfucking way. He was so drunk he didn’t even remember buying the ticket at first, according to his lawyer. He blew through a bunch of it in the year after, but managed to get his head together to write a will before… He left it all to me.”

I don’t tell her the rest of what the attorney said. That his drinking was a problem until his last moments, that somefriendsended up shooting him when they broke into his house one night thinking he had a safe full of cash somewhere. He didn’t but he still ended up dead.

Kat takes a deep breath, making her tits rise and fall as she taps her fingers on the steering wheel. She’s wearing this little white dress with pairs of red cherries all over it. The shoulder strap of her bra is just visible over the edge of her shoulder. Hot pink. Christ. “Are we talking money-money?”

I drag my eyes from her tits, but I’m greedy, so I put them on her lap for a second, taking in the luscious crease between her legs, before forcing myself to look at her face.

“Yeah, money-money in the hundred million sort of range. In a trust. I just got all the details last week. There’s an executorthat’s been helping me out, but I have full access. It’s all mine. I’ve been able to access it for a couple things, but I knew I’d be back this week, so I wanted to surprise you.”

Kat stays straight-faced, taking in the news. She’s good about giving herself a second to process. For a guy like me who is quick to throw the first punch, it’s a fucking inspiration.

She raises her eyebrows on a dismissive shrug. “Well, color me surprised and that explains the limo and thebling.” She tips her head toward my wrist.

“Bling? Did you serious just say that? You watching reruns of the Fresh Prince still?”

“Shut up. I love that show and I call ‘em like I see ‘em.” She snaps and I laugh for the first time in so goddamned long.

It feels amazing. Being with her again is heaven after two years in hell. “Yeah. It was difficult as fuck to do anything with the money from over there and I was whacked out still from my injury. By the time I had my head right, I was coming home.”

“Jesus. Wow.” I see her swallow, fingers gripping the wheel.

“Just wait. And by the way, we’re not going back to your place.”

She looks at me, brow all furrowed. Under all that beauty, she’s still that spunky little kid who didn’t think she needed me at all.

“We aren’t?”

“You deserve the best of everything Kitty Kat, and I’m going to give it to you. So I bought a place in Elmond Estates. Got it legal and signed for a few days ago. Wanted it to be a surprise. Place is fucking lit—”

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