A Forever Kind of Love (Kimani Romance) (11 page)

“You willing to bet on that?” Corey asked.

She refused to take the bait. It would only give him incentive to try harder, and she didn’t need Corey laying on the heavy charm. The day was hot enough.

Her hand on the rusty door handle, Mya pointed at him again and said, “Stay away.” Then she cut out of the storage shed before he lured her back in.

* * *

Corey hitched a heel on the rim of the shovel and drove it deep into the packed earth, turning up the dirt at the base of the oak tree. Sweat poured off him, and his muscles were so tired they quivered, but he continued to ram the shovel. He had enough pent-up energy to till this entire damn park.

Why had he dragged Mya into that storage shed?

He’d known what would happen—he’d get worked up. And he’d also known what
wouldn’t
happen—sex. Of any kind. They were in the middle of cleaning up Main Street, for God’s sake. The kids from his baseball team were swarming around this place. He knew better than to try having sex in a storage shed.

Seeing that tiny building again and having Mya so close by had caused something in his brain to snap. He’d lived out too many fantasies in that cluttered shed to pass up the opportunity to revisit a few of them. What he hadn’t counted on was Mya’s reaction. If only she hadn’t responded to his touch the way she had, maybe then he could get his body under control.

“Dammit,” Corey grunted with another vicious thump of the shovel.

Every time he came close to cooling off from the fire she’d lit within him, he’d feel her nipples pebble against his palms, a phantom imprint that wouldn’t go away. She’d been ready for him. If she had been wearing a skirt today instead of those shorts, he would have been inside of her, condom or no condom.

Although, a skirt wouldn’t cup her perfectly rounded butt the way those shorts did, and he wouldn’t have the view he had right now.

Balancing a begonia bulb in one hand, Mya bent over and settled it in the dirt he’d turned over around the base of another oak tree about twenty feet away. She tapped the dirt around it and motioned for one of the cheerleaders carrying an old-fashioned tin watering can to come over and moisten the soil. When the girl was done, Mya planted her gloved fists on her hips and looked around the park. Her eyes caught his and she smiled.

God, he’d missed her smile. Even on his worst day, when Coach had drilled his ass in practice or he’d gotten caught up with his idiot brothers in some kind of troublemaking scheme, one smile from Mya would change his entire outlook. So much time had passed, yet the feelings he’d had for her still ran as strong as ever. He’d never gotten over her.

And Corey realized he never wanted to.

Mya Dubois had stolen his heart a long time ago, and he was all too willing to let her keep it, provided she allowed the rest of him to come along for the ride.

She walked up to him, those hands still on her hips, the top half of her face shaded by that ratty black-and-gold sun visor.

“I thought you were avoiding me for the rest of the day,” Corey said.

“I think you’ve had enough time to cool down,” she said.

“Think again,” Corey muttered. “I’m as bad as these horny baseball players running behind the cheerleaders.”

“We’ve had our turn at that.”

“There’s nothing saying we can’t have it again.” Corey saw the desire in her eyes. She wanted to, but damn if she wasn’t fighting it.

“Are you almost done here?” she asked. “We need to get those flower bulbs in the ground, then we need to clean out the fish pond. I ordered twenty Japanese koi fish for the pond, my contribution to the town of Gauthier.”

“Koi? That had to set you back a few hundred dollars,” he said.

Mya shrugged. “I may not be rolling in dough, but I do okay. I want this place to impress the media at the end of the month. And with the progress we’ve made today, it’s going to do just that.”

“It does look good,” Corey said, trailing his eyes over the park.

Most of the shrubbery had been pruned, and new flowers had been planted around the base of most of the oak trees that lined the pathway leading to the waterwheel and wooden gazebo. The park benches were in the process of getting a fresh coat of paint and piles of raked leaves and pine needles were being loaded into huge wheelbarrows. They would be turned into mulch and brought back to help fertilize the soil around the newly planted flowers.

“Lunch!” someone called. “We’ve got lunch!”

“Lunch?” Corey looked over at Mya, but she only shrugged her shoulders with a confused frown crinkling her forehead. They walked out of the park entrance and found dozens of people gathered around Jamal’s top-of-the-line pickup truck. His friend stood in the truck bed, handing out sandwiches.

“He bought lunch for everyone?” Mya asked, awe in her voice.

“That’s Jamal,” Corey said.

“Hey,” Jamal called out to Corey. “I’ve got cases of potato chips in the front. Come and give me a hand.”

Corey took his gloves off and handed them to Mya. He gestured back toward the park. “Meet me in the gazebo in fifteen minutes. I’ll bring lunch.” He winked at her and headed to the chaos surrounding Jamal’s truck.

Chapter 9

M
ya sat on the freshly sanded porch steps in front of Emile’s Restaurant, unabashedly watching Corey as he helped to serve the lunch his friend had so generously provided. The way the damp T-shirt molded to Corey’s back made her mouth instantly water.

She blew out a defeated sigh. Her body’s demands had waged an all-out war against her common sense, and her common sense was ready to concede. The fight was futile and, at this point, exhausting.

Why should she deny herself any longer? It’s not as if she were in danger of falling for Corey’s charm again. It’s not as if sleeping with him would tether her to this town. In two weeks, after they held the 175th-year celebration and convinced the historical society and state tourism board that Gauthier was worthy of their attention, she would be on a plane to New York. Why not head back to the Big Apple a sexually satisfied woman?

“I see some things haven’t changed.” Phylicia plopped down on the step next to her.

“Why do you say that?” Mya asked, though the answer was obvious. She was blatantly staring at the man, and if anyone knew the intimacies of her previous relationship with Corey, it was Phylicia. The only thing Mya hadn’t shared with her best friend was news of the baby she’d miscarried.

“He does still look good,” Phylicia mused. “He was cutting your grandmother’s lawn the other day, and pulled his shirt off just as I drove by. I damn near wrecked my truck.”

Mya belted out a laugh so loud it drew stares.

“That friend of his is pretty hot, too,” Phil commented.

“Jamal?” Mya dragged her eyes away from Corey long enough to glance at the other man. Yep, gorgeous just about summed him up.

“I did some work at that house he’s fixing up. I almost had a heart attack when I walked in there and saw Sheetrock on the walls,” Phil said with a derisive grunt.

“I got the grand tour earlier this week. I know it probably kills you to see him get rid of some of the original structure, but that house is going to be spectacular when he’s done.”

“
If
he’s ever done,” Phil snorted. “He’s been working on it for months. Hey, do you want a sandwich?”

Mya couldn’t keep the coyness from seeping through her voice. “I’ve already got a lunch date.”

Phil gasped and twisted toward her. “Girl, are you thinking of giving Corey the booty again?”

“My goodness, Phylicia, would you shut up! Or at least keep your voice down,” she said with a terse whisper.

“Mya Eloise Dubois!” Mya had never heard her name draped in such righteous indignation. “I am appalled.”

“What’s the big deal?” She shrugged. “It’s not as if I haven’t slept with him before.”

“That’s not what’s appalling,” Phil said. “It’s the fact that you’ve been back in Gauthier for two weeks and you’re already getting some. I’ve been in this damn town my entire life and the only action I get these days is from my friend Bob.”

Mya searched her memory, but couldn’t come up with anyone. “Who’s Bob?” she had to ask.

“My battery-operated boyfriend,” Phil drawled.

Mya looked over at her friend and burst out laughing. As beautiful as she was, Phil had always had a hard time when it came to guys. Mya was convinced that Phil’s problems stemmed from her job. She confused men. It was hard to reconcile the varnish-stained overalls with the amazingly gorgeous woman who wore them.

“You should know better than to wait for the guy to make the first move. If it’s been that long, why don’t you ask someone out?” Mya suggested, picking up her bottled water.

“It’s not worth the bother.” Phil stood and dusted her backside. “Bob has an attachment that connects to the power drill. There’s not a man in Gauthier who can compete with that.”

Mya started choking on the water she’d just swallowed.

Phil didn’t even blink. She said, “I’m going to see a man about a sandwich. I’ll catch up with you later.” And she headed toward the pickup truck.

Ten minutes later, Mya was still trying to get thoughts of power tools and friends named Bob out of her mind, when Corey sidled up to her carrying two wrapped sandwiches and two bags of chips.

“I thought you were meeting me in the gazebo?” he asked.

Mya shook her head and patted the sanded step next to her. “Too secluded. I thought this was safer.”

“In my experience, safer is never as much fun.” He settled onto the porch step and handed her the promised turkey sandwich.

“It was sweet of Jamal to buy lunch for everyone. That must have set him back a pretty penny.”

“He can afford it,” Corey said, biting into his sandwich. He swallowed and continued, “Jamal is a trust-fund kid. His family owns one of the largest construction firms in Phoenix.”

“Yet he’s working as an assistant coach at a small-town high school?”

“He’s not on the staff. He’s just helping me out with the team while he works on the business plan for an architectural firm he wants to open. We were teammates back at Arizona State,” Corey added.

Mya’s eyes drifted over to the man who was leaning against his truck surrounded by a group of teens. She recognized the hero worship in the eyes of the young girls. Jamal Johnson was prime teenage-crush material.

“He
is
gorgeous,” Mya commented.

“Hey, I’m sitting right here. You want to squash the lusting after my best friend?”

She glanced at Corey and laughed. “I’m just admiring him from afar. It looks as if he’s got his hands full.” She bit into her sandwich and followed it with a couple of chips. “So,” Mya said after she’d swallowed, “how much more do you think we can get done before the rain rolls in?”

Corey looked up at the sky, where thick clouds were stalking in from the south. “With the way that sky looks, we’ll be lucky if we have another hour.”

“I hope the lampposts Aunt Mo and her crew painted this morning will be okay.”

“If not, I’ll keep practice short this coming Tuesday and Wednesday and bring the team out here to retouch whatever paint the rain messes up.” His gaze roamed their surroundings. “With all the volunteers that showed up today, we were able to get more done than I’d anticipated.”

“It’s been amazing,” Mya agreed.

Corey nudged her leg with his knee. “You know what would make it even more amazing?”

Mya brought her hand up. “Don’t finish that sentence. You are worse than you were back in high school.”

“I used to get more action back in high school,” he said. “If I knew back then that I would eventually go this long without sex, I probably would have killed myself.” He finished off his sandwich and balled up the plastic wrap and empty potato chip bag.

Mya told herself to let his statement pass, but she couldn’t help herself. “How long has it been?”

Corey reached over and grabbed the empty remnants of her lunch. With a wicked grin, he said, “Long enough that you should take this as a warning. Once we get started, I may not be able to stop.”

Okay.
So that was promising.

Mya squeezed her legs tight and pleaded with her heart to slow the heck down. She still had plenty of time to make sure Corey came through on his promise.

The rain held off for another two hours, but when it started it was as if someone had cracked a glass jar filled with water over their heads. People scrambled for cover under the awnings that shaded some of the entrances to businesses on Main Street. Others huddled in the wooden gazebo in Heritage Park or inside some of the stores that were open.

After a few minutes, the torrential downpour slowed to a slight but steady shower. The volunteers began venturing out into the rain, covering their heads with plastic garbage bags as they swiftly made their way to their cars. Mya didn’t bother shielding herself from the rain. She was already soaked.

She went over to the tent where her grandmother had spent most of the day handing out water and sports drinks.

“Looks like God decided we’d done enough work,” Grandma said.

“He kept it nice and dry for most of the day,” Mya replied. “Why don’t you pack up your things? I’ll find Aunt Mo.”

“She already left,” her grandmother informed her. “She banged her knee against one of those steel posts in front of the barbershop and howled like a fool.”

“Is she okay?” Mya asked.

Her grandmother waved off her concern. “I think it was just an excuse to leave. Anyway, I’m going over to Clementine’s. Some of the girls are getting together to play cards. She’ll drive me home. Do you need a ride?”

“No, I’m good,” Mya said. She pointed a warning finger at her grandmother. “Remember, no sweets or sugary sodas for you. Make sure she doesn’t eat the wrong foods, Mrs. Washington.”

Her grandmother rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue. Mya kissed her cheek and dashed back out into the rain. She headed for Phil’s truck, which was parked in the alley between the pharmacy and the bank, but Corey intercepted her. He stepped out from where he’d been helping Jamal load shovels and rakes into the bed of his truck and grabbed her by the waist. He pulled her up against him, her back crushed to his front.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled into her ear.

“I was...uh, going to see if Phil could give me a ride home,” she said.

She felt Corey’s jaw move against her neck as he shook his head. “You don’t need Phil to give you a ride.”

His husky voice caused a fissure of need to split her heart wide open. Mya melted against him. “Then let me at least say goodbye to her,” Mya said.

“Be back here in five minutes,” he told her.

She made it back in three.

Following Corey, she jogged over to his SUV parked just a few yards away on Maurepas Drive. He opened the passenger door and helped her into the passenger seat, then popped open the glove compartment and retrieved his wallet. There was a condom in there, and they were going to put it to use within the hour.

Mya swallowed the knot of lust that lodged in her throat. “How far from here do you live?” she asked as soon as Corey shut his door.

“Ten minutes.” He rammed the key in the ignition and started the truck. “But I can make it there in seven.”

“Do that,” she said.

Corey backed out of his parking spot and continued up Maurepas and onto the highway. They turned into a subdivision that had been nothing but acres of sugarcane fields the last time Mya had been to this part of town. Despite being a planned community, the houses still had huge yards instead of the postage-stamp properties that usually comprised this type of neighborhood.

Corey turned into the driveway of a sprawling two-story home that was way too big for just one person. He drove past the house and into a backyard that was surrounded by high fencing. He parked just outside a detached garage.

“Sorry I have to park in the rain,” he said. “The garage is filled with a bunch of Jamal’s crap that he’s storing here while he works on his house.”

“It’s okay,” Mya answered with a husky breath. “I’m already soaking wet.”

Corey squeezed his fingers around the steering wheel and cursed. In a strained voice, he said, “Are you trying to make me finish before we even get started?”

“I’m sorry,” she lied.

“Get out of the truck,” he said between gritted teeth.

Mya hopped out of the SUV and ran around the back. Corey caught her arm and pulled her against him. He was soaked, the fabric plastered to his chiseled chest. He attacked her mouth with hungry kisses, plowing past her closed lips and plunging his tongue inside. Mya responded with hunger of her own, clasping her hands behind his head and holding him securely to her.

Her brain faintly registered the inground swimming pool and teak wood cabana, along with the towering magnolia trees shading his massive backyard. It was exquisite and, like the house, too large for a single person.

As she felt Corey’s iron-hard erection rise up against her stomach she put the house and every other thought out of her mind.

“We’re not making it inside,” he said roughly against her neck. He stopped under the leafy branches of a magnolia tree and tore the shirt over his head.

“Corey, what are you doing?”

“Strip,” he ordered as he unsnapped his shorts and shucked them down his legs.

Mya’s mouth gaped open even as her hands went for the hem of her shirt. “Are we really going to have sex outside in the rain?”

“Damn right,” Corey said. He grabbed her and brought her body flush against his own. “Don’t worry,” he said, unzipping her shorts and pulling them down. “The neighbors are too far away to see into the backyard. I skinny-dip in the pool all the time.”

The mental picture that statement elicited sent a streak of fire racing through her bloodstream. Mya sighed into his kiss, her body fever-hot despite the rain falling in fits and spurts through the leafy branches.

His mouth never leaving hers, Corey lowered her to the ground. He unhooked her bra and pulled the soaked fabric from her shoulders and down her arms, following the path with his mouth. He tunneled his fingers underneath the rim of her panties and guided them over her thighs and down her legs.

Their rain-slicked bodies moved easily against each other. Corey cradled her waist and hoisted her up so that she straddled his lap. She bent over and drew her mouth across his chest, flicking at his flat nipple and softly biting his wet skin. He hissed with pleasure, running his palms down her spine, settling them at the small of her back.

“Grab those shorts,” he ordered. “My wallet is in the back pocket.”

Mya scooted up his torso and reached for the shorts he’d kicked off a few feet away. She let out a shocked gasp when Corey lifted his head and covered her core with his mouth. He palmed her backside, holding her in place as his tongue delved, solid and deep, into her slick flesh.

The moan that escaped her lips was animalistic. Mya arched her back, bringing her center closer to his foraging tongue.

Tension gripped low in her belly, pulsing hot and fevered with every lick and plunge. She encased the sides of his face between her thighs, pumping her body in rhythm to his mouth.

“Oh, my God,” she moaned as she leaned back and gripped his thighs. He flicked his tongue against her clitoris, fast and furious, curling around the swollen bud and pulling it into his mouth. Then two of his fingers swept in from behind and slipped into her soaking body.