The Rebound, page 14
“Maybe we should take Reeves up on his offer to stay the night after all,” Kinley murmurs over the rim of her wineglass.
I feel her foot trace the line of my calf, pressing intimately against the smooth fabric of my dress pants. Wow, yup, I’m already getting hard. Which is . . . so not helpful.
“What makes you say that?” I ask, playing dumb.
Kinley smirks at me and gives me a soft look that I feel right in my groin.
Who knew watching a girl slurp down oysters would be such a turn-on? By the time our entrees arrive, I feel like I’m crawling out of my skin.
All of Kinley’s attention immediately turns to the glorious arrangement in front of her: broiled duck, arugula citrus salad, and roasted scallops. The moans that escape her lips as soon as her tongue makes contact with each savory flavor are downright erotic.
Lord help me.
On the way back to the car, she clings to my arm, giggling the whole way. Once we’re buckled up, she releases a heavy, reluctant sigh.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not ready to go back yet.”
Hot damn. Here’s my opening. “We don’t have to go back yet.”
Kinley perks up a bit, turning to me and leaning on one arm so her cleavage deepens. “Where would we go? Hey, eyes up here, mister.”
I tear my gaze away from her chest with a sheepish smile. “How about we go back to my place?”
“Yeah?” She catches her bottom lip between her teeth, looking me up and down. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
I grin at her. “I think that’s the best idea I’ve ever had.”
God, I love her like this—a little tipsy, a little giddy, and a whole lot more relaxed.
As soon as the door to my condo closes behind us, I’ve got her pushed up against the wall of my entryway.
Kinley whimpers into my kisses, rubbing up against me like a cat in heat. I drop my hands from her hair and down to her round ass, lifting her easily. She wraps her strong legs around my hips like a vise, and I damn near purr with pleasure at the newfound pressure against my straining cock.
Dragging my lips down her neck, I play with the buttons in the front of her little black dress, releasing them one by one until I’ve got an eyeful of flushed skin against lacy black lingerie.
“Bed?” Kinley asks, breathless.
“Yeah.”
I carry her down the hall, stopping once or twice to crowd her against the wall, against the door—to remind her exactly how badly I want her. I need her to feel how she makes me feel. And with the way she grinds her warm center against my raging hard-on, I have no doubt that she wants me just as badly.
We tumble onto the bed in a mess of limbs, tangling up in each other. There’s nothing graceful about it. We’ve waited too long for this moment.
Kinley yanks at my button-down, my belt, the elastic band of my briefs. I occupy myself freeing her gorgeous, plump breasts from her lacy bra, dipping my tongue between the silky mounds to taste her skin. She bucks against me as I pull one taut nipple into my mouth, sucking and swirling.
“Saint . . . kiss me.”
Happily.
I trail my kisses back up to her lips, savoring the faint flavor of wine on them. Her warm fingers slide down the front of my pants, pulling me free. I groan at the sensation of her tight fist stroking me, even better than how I remember.
“Whoa there, sweetheart,” I murmur, placing one of my hands over hers.
She smiles at me sweetly before gazing down at my obscenely swollen cock in her small hand. “Feel good?” she asks, her voice filled with desire as she works her hand up and down my length.
I groan. “So good.”
When she lowers herself to the floor at my feet, my heart rate accelerates. This isn’t what I expected. And when Kinley closes her mouth on my waiting cock, my lungs stop working. Her mouth is hot and eager, and I almost die of happiness on the spot.
Watching Kinley suck and lick me is the most erotic sight. Her fist slides up and down, and her breasts jiggle as she moves over me. She’s perfect. I still can’t believe she’s mine.
“Fuck,” I breathe out on a moan.
A few minutes more, and I’m closer to the edge than I’d like. Kinley is really good at this. I guide her back up and place her in the center of my bed. Once we’re both stripped of our remaining clothing, I join her.
“I want you,” she murmurs against my lips, nipping at them with her teeth.
My hunger deepens more than I thought possible, like my attraction for Kinley had a false bottom all along and I just discovered a brand-new level of desire.
She kisses me hard on the mouth, wrapping her legs around my hips and pulling me toward her. I can feel the heat radiating from her core—she’s ready for me. And God knows I’ve been ready for a long, long time.
The condom from my bedside table slips onto my throbbing dick with a little help from Kinley’s deft fingers. We lie side by side, her eyes on mine. As her palm rests flat against my abs, I touch her everywhere I can—her flushed neck, her breasts, between her thighs.
She groans as my fingers move over her. “Saint . . .” Her voice is filled with need.
I take myself in hand and guide my cock to her center. When she moans and lifts her pelvis, I press in—just a couple of inches. She’s so warm and soft around me, I can’t believe this is our first time. We’ve shared so much already, but never this. And I’m overcome by the weight of that.
Kinley reaches up to stroke my jaw and tilts my mouth to hers. I press a soft kiss to her lips, and even though I tell myself to go slow in case she needs a minute, my hips move, pressing forward. I sink in a little deeper. It’s heaven.
“Feel okay?” My voice comes out deep and rumbly.
“It’s perfect,” she says breathlessly.
And it really is.
Inch by inch, I fill her, watching the ecstasy bloom on her face with each stretch of new territory. I test my limits by rocking my hips in a gentle rhythm, and she curls around me like a silk ribbon. I don’t piston my hips or thrust wildly, I give her time to get where I’m taking her. But trust me, it feels so fucking good that I have a hard time maintaining my slow, steady rhythm. I press my stubbled jaw against the side of her neck and release a slow shaky breath, which may or may not sound like a growl.
“More, yes.” She moans, thrusting her hips against me.
Thank God. And who am I to deny her when she asks so nicely?
“Anything for you.” I breath out the words.
Our hips move together in perfect time, finding an energetic pace that suits us both. She feels amazing, so warm and wet and perfect.
My thumb finds her clit, and her hips stutter against mine. She loses control as she comes, throwing her head back against the pillows in pleasure. I feel the edge hurtling toward me, so I bury my face in the crook of her neck and hold on to her as I groan through my own powerful release.
When the electric surge of my body finally subsides, I regain awareness of Kinley’s body, which is moving against mine. She’s laughing.
“What are you laughing at?” I mumble, my voice muffled by the sheets.
“Nothing. I’m just happy.”
I press a stupid and satisfied grin against her neck. “Me too.”
After I muster up the strength to dispose of the condom, we find a prime cuddling position. It takes a little maneuvering of limbs, but once we find it, I never want to move again. I tell her so and she giggles, nipping my arm playfully.
“Sooner or later I’m going to need to go back, you know.”
“No . . .” I groan. “Not allowed.”
“Well, Walker doesn’t have boobs, so his babysitting powers are limited.”
I shudder at the mental image of Reeves with a rack. “Fair enough.”
“Come with me and spend the night?” she asks.
“Of course. Five more minutes?”
She presses a kiss to my cheekbone and nuzzles her nose against mine. “Five more minutes.”
20
* * *
KINLEY
In the morning, Saint wakes me with a mug of hot coffee in one hand and an alert baby in the other.
“Morning,” I murmur, sitting up in bed to take in the sight of them. Caleb is freshly diapered and dressed in the soft gray onesie that I love. And Saint is always a feast for the eyes. They make quite a pair.
“Morning.” Saint grins. “Which do you want first?” He makes a point of looking down at each offering—the baby and the coffee, and I laugh. It’s a toss up. I really love coffee. Even though I only allow myself a few sips of it these days.
“Give me the baby,” I say around a yawn, making a grabby hands motion for him.
Saint does with a chuckle, nestling an eager Caleb in beside me on a pillow. I unlatch my top and bring Caleb to my breast while Saint hands me the mug of coffee.
“I had fun with you last night,” he says, in that sexy deep voice of his, leaning down to give me a kiss on my cheek.
“Me too,” I say, skin heating at the memory of our first-time making love. I knew it would be good, I just didn’t know it would be that good. Saint was a beast—focused solely on my pleasure. And woo, was it pleasurable.
Part of me can’t believe this is my life—that I have a sweet, attentive sex-god for a boyfriend, and an adorable baby who I love with my whole heart. I definitely didn’t see all this coming when I got dumped last year. I’m happier than I have any right to be. I can’t even complain about the lack of sleep because so far Caleb is cooperating like a champ. I give him a tender kiss on his chubby cheek.
With another appreciative look, Saint heads to the closet and begins undressing.
“Did you go for a run?” I ask, helping myself to a sip of coffee.
“Yeah,” he calls back. “Caleb likes the running stroller, so it worked out well. I went about three miles, I didn’t want to push my luck.”
Saint had been wanting to begin taking Caleb on his morning jog, but I was nervous with him being so little that his head would flop around. We’d been waiting until Caleb was a little older. I can’t believe how quickly my baby is growing. I lean over him and press a gentle kiss to his forehead. He blinks up at me drowsily.
“He should nap for you now. All that fresh air, I’m guessing.”
I nod and set the coffee mug aside, then stroke Caleb’s fine hair. “Are you heading out?”
“Just for an hour or so. There’s a team weight training session this morning with a new trainer. I figured I better not miss it.” Saint reappears beside the bed and touches my shoulder. “You look beautiful like this, by the way,” he says, gazing down at me.
I still don’t know what I did to deserve this man. My throat gets tight with emotion. I’m sitting in a disheveled bed with messy hair and a baby latched to my boob. Meanwhile, my boyfriend who is a literal pro-athlete looks like he could be in a Nike commercial with his athletic wear and muscled physique.
“Maybe when you get home we could...” I gaze up at him, hoping he’ll read between the lines and save me the embarrassment of propositioning him for sex while I’m nursing.
He grins. “I already texted your brother.”
My brain screeches to a halt. Does Saint think we need a babysitter every time we want to have sex? I’m about to set him straight and explain that Caleb naps a lot when Saint begins talking again.
“I’m taking you for a pedicure.”
Just like one of our first dates…
“And maybe to get ice cream?”
My mouth lifts in a smile. He remembers. That day was perfect. It was the day I started falling for Saint, even though I didn’t have any right to.
His voice lowers. “And then back to my place.”
My heart rate kicks up.
He adjusts himself by sticking his hand into the front of his shorts. “Fuck. I’m getting hard just thinking about last night.”
I chuckle. I really do love this man.
“Later,” I promise.
“Later,” he agrees.
• • •
Later finally arrives.
My brother is about thirty minutes late and then the pedicures take forever. We abandon the idea of ice cream altogether. All I want in the world is to be alone with Saint, even if it is pretty awesome to have my neglected feet tended to.
When we reach Saint’s place, he unlocks the door and then we’re kissing, right there in the foyer.
“Thank you for today,” he says, but it comes out jumbled because I can’t stop kissing his perfect mouth. He chuckles against my lips. I make an inarticulate sound.
“You in a rush all of a sudden?” His mouth lifts in a crooked smile.
“Tell me you haven’t been thinking about this all day.”
He sinks his teeth into his lip.
“That’s what I thought.”
He touches my neck and urges my mouth to his. He keeps one hand there, his thumb lightly stroking the rapid pulse in my neck while the other cups my breast. He pinches my nipple and I feel my knees tremble.
Somehow, I’ve unbuttoned his jeans and I push my hands into his briefs, drawing them down his thighs. I’m practically shaking with need and I can feel Saint almost vibrating with anticipation too. You would think last night would have taken the edge off our lust for each other, but somehow it had the opposite effect. When I wrap him in my fist, he makes a breathless noise. He’s alarmingly hard for me. And of course I freaking love it.
His hands are everywhere, massaging my ass, cupping the generous swells of my breasts, tilting my mouth up to his… It’s like he can’t get enough of me. I feel the exact same way. I want every part of him and I want it right now. He pushes my leggings down my legs and I pull my top off over my head, dropping it on the floor beside us.
His kisses are urgent and hot, and oh, wow, I need him. Abandoning the foreplay, I climb into his lap as he sinks down onto the couch.
“Baby, wait.” His voice is rough, barely above a growl.
Wait? The word wait doesn’t resonate. It has no meaning. I can’t wait. Not even to move this party into his bedroom. Saint seems to understand. The need between us is too great.
He shifts my panties to the side and when he feels how ready I am for him, he groans.
“Fuck, Kinley.”
He uses the slickness to press his fingers inside and then sweeps them over my clit. He keeps right on kissing me while I whimper and moan and writhe above him. I feel dizzy with desire.
I grip his biceps to keep my balance and begin lowering myself down. Saint brings one hand between us to position himself at the right angle, and then I’m being stretched around him. Saint’s hands at my waist lift and lower me, and just like last night, he doesn’t pound or pummel into me. His rhythm is maddeningly slow and steady, allowing everything to build. And build, it does.
I feel so full of him and so loved. He kisses me through it all, telling me how much he loves me, and how good I feel. His lips move to my neck and I rock against him, desperate to move faster, to have more of him.
Saint suddenly shifts and I realize I’m being lifted—being placed on my back on the sofa, and then he’s moving over top of me, joining us again. I arch my back and welcome the intrusion. The feeling of fullness is perfect, and when he brings his thumb to my clit, I let out a very loud, very eager sound.
“Yes,” I say, panting.
“You are so perfect,” he groans, his eyes moving over me—from the spot where he’s still moving deliberately to my heavy breasts that wobble on each smooth thrust.
His thumb does wonderful things and I find myself racing toward my release faster than I thought possible.
“Saint!” I groan, my fingers fighting for purchase on his muscled thighs.
It’s then that his measured strokes finally falter. He begins moving faster, harder, and with each thrust, he hits just the right spot. My eyes sink closed and I can’t hold out any longer. Pleasure spirals through me, greater than I’ve ever known. I come apart with a strangled cry, his name leaving my lips over and over again while Saint continues to pound into me, his own low moans now joining mine.
“Baby, fuck.” I feel a spasm move through him and he makes the sexiest sound, burying his face into my neck. He doesn’t move his body from mine, but he begins kissing me all over—my forehead, neck and collarbone, and it is perfect. Watching him lose control just became my favorite new pastime.
EPILOGUE
* * *
KINLEY
One year later
The second baby shower of my life is a little less stressful than the first.
For starters, Aspen offered to help with the planning and setup, taking some of the weight off of Saint’s shoulders this time around. Once all of our moving boxes were unpacked and the new house was in good enough shape for visitors, Aspen organized everything for us—light refreshments, a couple of non-humiliating baby-themed games, and even a gift registry for the brand-new little one.
Secondly, I actually know the guests this time around. Everyone who was invited last time is invited again this time. When they arrive, Saint and I take turns greeting each one, exchanging hugs and inside jokes. Having spent the last year getting to know the team and their wives, I feel like they’re a big extended family.
Caleb toddles by us, squealing with excitement as Saint follows after him, making scary pirate noises that have my fourteen-month-old dissolving into a fit of giggles. Pirate Chase is their favorite game, and Saint is always devoted to giving Caleb his complete and undivided attention whenever they play.
It’s adorable. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of watching them play.
“Coming through.”
Eden’s crystalline voice cuts through the noise as she and Holt waltz into the foyer. She has multiple gift bags hanging from her arms, and her husband is carrying a box so big that it nearly doesn’t fit through the doorway.
“Eden, welcome,” I say, returning a kiss on the cheek.
“So sorry we’re late, Kinley. We hit traffic on the way here. I found so many lovely things for you. I left all the receipts in the bags in case you want to return anything.” She lifts her arms, showing off the gift bags. “More comfy-cozy clothes for my favorite mama, and that”—she points to the box Holt is tucking under the gift table—“is a Snoo. Have you ever heard of a Snoo? It’s very highly rated on all the luxury motherhood forums.”
