Page 9 of Buy Me, Love
I hope Maxwell will give me onemore.
6
Maxwell
Kit Kensington pulledon my tie. She pulled on my motherfuckingt.i.e.
She tried to get me to lean down tokissher.
She looks sweet and innocent, and all signs until today pointed to what seemed like that very obvious fact. Tutoring, donating her time and energy at the animalshelter.
But shit, Kit Kensingtonisa wild one. I knew there was something about her. Getting some old man she doesn’t know to bring her to some off-ramp motel in the middle of who-the-fuck-knows-where.Please.Where she has “tutor jocks” on her schedule, is she getting passed around like a joint at aparty?
Goddamnit. The idea of it makes me fucking sick. I plow a hand through my hair as I take the steps two-by-two and cross the street to a small shopping plaza tucked between a gas station and a library, surrounded by trees on all sides. It’s nice to get out of the city for once, but I don’t have that sweet feeling of peace settling into my chest. No fuckingway.
I pull open the door to the diner and make my way over to the counter, grabbing two cellophane-wrapped black and white cookies and a menu. I already know what shelikes.
“Hi. Two veggie burgers, one with sweet potato fries, one with waffle fries, a small greek salad. Thank you. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.” The woman behind the counter takes the order and the menu back from me without missing a beat and I tear out of the place, heading next door from the little shopping strip to the open-late big boxstore.
I find the section I’m looking for and pounce on a pair of pajamas with hearts and bears on them. Anything to get her out of that little red dress and the hell away from me. This woman is a ticking sex bomb waiting to go off and she could destroy me if I’m notcareful.
I grab a teddy bear holding a big red heart, pay for my purchases, and head back over to the diner to pick up dinner. I slap a bill on the counter and grab the take-out bag, not bothering to wait for my change. When I get back to the motel, I sprint up the stairs and slide my card into the door faster than I can say pickles andcoleslaw.
When I get inside, I drop the bags on the small table by the door. There’s steam coming from the bathroom, and the sweet scent of water and soap fills the air. The bed she was kneeling on before is now strewn with blankets and sheets. Looks like someone’s spent an entire night sleepingthere.
I walk over and grab a pillow, bringing it to my nose. The fresh scent of her perfume clings to it, and I rub myself through my pants. There’s mascara residue on the pillow, and when I pull it away from my face and look down at the bed again, I see that there’s what looks like a little dampspot.
Fuck. I sit down on the edge of the bed, my dick harder than a diamond, and put the pillow onto my lap. I let a groan escape my chest and float to the ceiling as I tip my head back, eyes screwing closed, hips grinding against the pillow. I move it in my lap, shifting my hips up and down, my other hand palming the sheet. My fingers curl up into a fist, the damp fabric of the sheet gathering. I’m about to come in my pants when I hear the shower turnoff.
Shit. I put the pillow close to where I found it as I can manage and hop onto the bed next to the one Kit defiled. Putting two hands behind my head and hooking one foot over the other, I assume a casualpose.
The bathroom door opens and Kit appears in the doorway, hair wrapped in a towel and another one tucked in on itself above herbreasts.
“Oh,” she says, stepping backwards into the bathroom, “I didn’t know you were back. Sorry aboutthat.”
“No problem,” I say, going over to the bags I’d procured in my travels. “I have something foryou.”
I tear the pajama set from its package and hand it over to her through the slit between the bathroom door and thewall.
“Valentine’s Day lingerie!” she beams up at me, “honey, thank you so much! I’ve always wanted a boyfriend who knows what I like without me having to tellhim.”
She has no fucking idea. But for now, I bide my time. I go back to the bed and grab the remote to look for a movie for us to watchtogether.
Dinner and a movie. The perfect firstdate.
7
Kit
I dryoff and pull the pajamas on, stopping when I’m done to look in themirror.
My hair is wet, I’m wearing these very sweet and cute PJs, I have no makeup on…and I’ve never felt sexier than I do right now. I tuck my hair behind my ears the way Max did. I can still feel his fingers there, his touch. I can still feel his fingers on my waist from when he slid me into the seat next tohis.
I can still feel the growl that broke inside his chest and the heat from his eyes when I tugged on his skinny black tie. I can still feel the glowing warmth making its way through my body like the inside of a lava lamp. It sends a zip of electricity up myspine.
There’s something happening inside me. Warmth…companionship? What is this? It’s all-enveloping, all-consuming, and a little bit scary. It’s a shock to the system. It’s warmth on a cold day and it’s a cool shower in the middle of August. It’s a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at the beach and there’s sand between your toes and maybe a little in the sandwich too, but you don’t care because you’ve got a good book to keep youcompany.
Taking a calming breath, I open the bathroom door and return to Max. He has everything set up for us: burgers and fries in their foil containers, set up on a towel on each of the beds. There’s also a teddy bear propped up on the pillows on my bed and a pair of slippers on thefloor.
