Dirty Kisses (11 page)

My ego expands when she mentions my muscles. I wish it didn’t, but apparently, that thirteen-year-old in me is back, and he likes to have his ego stroked.

“Huh.” I lean back and watch as the boys on the show do their thing. “Isn’t this rigged, though?”

“Oh, honey, I don’t think so.” Her arm tightens around me, and my body catches fire. The way she said
honey
made me melt a little on the inside. I’d die before I told anyone, but I’m loving the hell out of whatever’s happening between the two of us. “They’re just going on about their business,” she whispers. “You could do that. You just need to forget that the cameras are there. I bet it would drive up business a hundred percent. You’d have to expand, or franchise. People are always looking to get into a lucrative opportunity.”

Her words soak in as I try to envision what it might be like having a set of cameras follow me around all day.

“Drive up business a hundred percent?” I whisper. “That would be criminal to turn down.”

“Who knows what that documentary could lead to? It would
totally
be criminal to turn down this opportunity.” Her nails glide over my chest one more time, and a shiver runs down my spine straight through to my balls.

“Your turn. What possessed you to turn into a human serving platter?” Without hesitating, I wrap my arm around her shoulders, and she freezes. I’m hoping it’s her fear of the subject matter that has her turning to stone, and not the fact I’ve decided to get into the act.

Her head wilts over my chest. “Let’s just say that I went astray when I tried to pull myself up by the bootstraps. Some of us aren’t as good at it as you are.” A dull laugh rattles her. “Oh, the press is interested in broadcasting my hardship story, too. My parents are especially glued to the screen.” Her body quivers as if staving off tears. “My brothers aren’t too impressed either.”

“I’m sorry.” They’re not just meaningless words I’m spouting off. I mean it with everything in me. I hate that she’s fumbled, and now the world is peering into her mistakes. “Everyone goes through a tough time sooner or later. It’s just yours happens to be in the public eye.” I pull her in tight, closing in the gap. “Are your parents in Hollow Brook?”

“No, thank God.” She glances up, the gloss on her lips catching the light. I want to kiss it off, lick it off, touch my finger over her mouth if she’d let me. I don’t think we’re there tonight, but that would be pretty incredible if we were. Daisy and I seem to be engineering things backward in the bedroom. “They’re about forty miles out in Friar’s Corner. Ever heard of it?”

I shake my head. “I’ve pretty much laid low in Hollow Brook. Jepson is about as far as I venture out.”

“I don’t blame you. Nothing good ever comes out of Friar’s Corner.”

“Not true. You came out of there.”

“Ha-ha.” She gives my hip a quick pinch while looking up at me with those silver-blue eyes. “You’re just gunning to get laid.”

“Not true.” I give her own hip a light pinch. My eyes lock over hers. The instant those baby blues link with mine I’m done. I can feel the power draining out of me. A part of me begs to look away, but I can’t. It’s too much. Something is happening, and it’s too damn strong for me to wrap my head around. “I mean it,” I whisper. “You’re pretty great. Friar’s Corner can’t be that bad.”

“I’m an embarrassment.” Daisy buries her face in my chest. “I’m the personification of everything that’s wrong with that place. No hope and desperation beyond repair equals dancing dreams dashed and thrashed at the foot of the U.S. Senate.” She looks up, her eyes stained red as blood. “There’s not a darn thing I can’t ruin, Jet.” She blinks back tears, her lips quiver with agony. “You’d better believe that if I don’t leave soon, I’ll take you down with me.” She shakes her head. “And that, my friend, is something I could never forgive myself for.”

Daisy relaxes against my chest as we stare blankly at the television as if we cared about the images flickering before us.

“There’s no way you can ruin anything with me.” I press a careful kiss over the top of her head.

Daisy can’t ruin a thing in my life.

I’ve done that myself.

T
hat night
, Daisy sleeps in my arms, safe and sound from her worries and fears from the nightmare her life has morphed into. I wish I could wipe away all of the grime, help her in some way escape the stronghold of negativity she’s locked in, but for the life of me I can’t figure out how to do it. Believe me, I stayed up half of the night trying.

Friday arrives with the crisp bite of a storm brewing on the horizon. As soon as the sun sets, I head over to the WB campus for the big game to watch Rex do his thing. I do a quick scan over by the bleachers looking for Cade and Owen, looking for Lucky—hell, I’m looking for Daisy.

A pair of cool hands covers my eyes from behind, and my heart thumps once with that schoolboy brand of hope I haven’t felt since I was a kid. I spin around to find Lucky’s smiling face staring back at me.

“Hey, stranger.” She jumps up and pecks my cheek with a kiss.

“Eww, that’s sick.” Ava pops up from behind her and gives her ponytail a tug. “I’ll meet you at the top.” She laughs before racing off with a group of girls.

“It’s not sick. It’s just practice for when I steal your boyfriend!” Lucky shouts back with the same jovial attitude.

“I think you’re both sick. And no stealing boyfriends. I’m glad to see you making friends, though.” Lucky, ironically, hasn’t always been so
lucky
when it comes to holding on to friendships. I’m not sure why. I’ve done everything I can to give her the best life possible. It’s as if something has been missing. Deep down, I’m afraid I know what that might be. The one thing I can never give her back, our mess of a father—our beautiful mother.

“They’re all right.” She gives an indifferent shrug, whipping her ponytail in their direction. Lucky is naturally a decent looking girl, but tonight, with all of that war paint, I’m afraid she might attract the wrong kind of attention. She’s downright stunning, and that’s the last thing I want my baby sister to be.

I grimace at how high up into the bleachers Ava is charging with that coed girl gang of hers. “You better go up and pull them out of the nosebleeds, or you won’t see a thing.”

“That’s the point.” She gives a little wink before bolting in that direction.

“Lucky! Stay out of trouble!” I’ve always felt as if my parents were a bit presumptuous when they named her. Trouble would have been much more spot-on, although not nearly as flattering or charming.

Owen waves from the front, and I jog over. The girls are here—Piper, Scarlett, and Cassidy. My heart sinks as I scour the crowd around them. Cade waves with his middle finger and grins.

“What’s up?” I slap Owen and Cade five.

“The game’s up.” Cade pats me over, and I fall into the seat next to him. Cassidy flanks him on the other side, and Piper and Owen fall in line. Must be nice to have someone like that. The same plus one night after night. I’ve never really given it much thought. I have Lucky to get through school. She’s a handful. I’m pretty sure I don’t need any distractions.

The sweet smell of cotton candy hits me, and my dick perks to life.

She’s here.

My heart kicks against my chest as if it’s trying to break its way out and take a peek itself.

“Did I miss anything?” Daisy strides up, wrapped in a red wool coat that hugs her curves almost as good as I can. She high-fives the girls and jumps into the seat next to me.

“Hey.” I nod, trying to play it cool, watching as the boys run out onto the field, but my heart, my adrenaline, is pumping. I can’t seem to control the biological response I’m having to this girl—don’t want to control it.

“Are we winning?” She leans forward with such unabashed glee, the apples of her cheeks glow a brilliant shade of pink. I don’t have the heart to tell her the game hasn’t started yet.

“We are now that you’re here.” It comes out even-keeled, not too overly enthused the way it demanded to jump out of my throat. I keep my eyes glued to the game and shout the loudest, the longest when Rex brings it home for the team.

“He’s pretty good.” Daisy grabs ahold of my arm and gives an enthusiastic squeeze. Normally, I wouldn’t be all that thrilled to have a girl singing another guy’s praises, but that’s Rex, and this is Daisy.

“He’s the best.” I don’t mind talking him up a little myself.

Daisy keeps her arm wrapped around mine, yelling and screaming right alongside me as if she suddenly knew the intricate rules of the game, and it makes me smile, makes me genuinely happy right down to the soles of my feet. If I did have someone in my life, someone beside me night after night, I’d want her to be a lot like Daisy.

The game wears on, and somewhere around the fourth quarter I get a text. It’s from Owen. I lean over and scowl at him before glancing back down at my phone.

Things are looking pretty friendly down at your end of the bleachers. You need me to send for help?

I slip the phone back into my jeans before covertly flipping him off. I get it. Both he and Cade have been after me to find someone to complete their little circle of lust. But I’m not into it. It’s not happening.

The game ends in a victory, thanks to Rex, and the crowd is on their feet as soon as the clock runs out. The cheerleaders go wild as the students descend onto the field like ants.

“We won!” Daisy jumps up and hugs me. Her arms fold over the back of my neck, pulling me close to her.

“We won, babe.” I spin her in the tiny space between us.

Her mouth falls open as she looks to me in wonder. “Did you just call me babe?”

My gut burns because this is probably the part where I should laugh it off or deny it, but I can’t. I can’t deny Daisy Pembrooke anything.

“I guess I did.”

Her eyes fill with tears so fast, my heart hiccups in my throat just watching the strange mixture of hurt and joy building in her.

Everything in me aches at how easily this beautiful girl can be reduced to tears, and I want to quell them the only way I know how.

“Come here.” I close my eyes and go in for the kill. My mouth covers hers, and that’s when I realize how far past that invisible line in the sand I’ve drifted.

Daisy presses her tiny body close to my chest, and I can feel her heartbeat echo through mine until we beat as one. Her tongue probes my mouth as if she’s never been there, as if she’s hungry for whatever it is I have to offer. God knows I want to offer this girl everything under the moon, and then that would never be enough. Here I am doing exactly what I’ve fantasized about all week for all to see. I couldn’t care less who’s watching, who’s gawking at us for whatever the hell reason. All that matters is this one moment, this one kiss. Every cell in my body needs this like air to breathe.

I was wrong. Daisy and I are happening.

Hell, we’ve already happened.

T
he lights
, the noise of the crowd, it all fades to one giant roar that matches the sound of the adrenaline rushing through my ears. I’ve kissed my fair share of boys, but this kiss isn’t doled out by a mere boy. This is Jet Madden. God knows I’ve craved this man for as far back as that fated day last year when my friends and I thought it was a good idea to tat ourselves up in commemoration of the first day of school. Only in classic, needle-fearing style, I couldn’t go through with it.

Jet kisses in the same way he loves my whole body, with an intensity that makes this singular act feel as if the crux of civilization were riding on it.

My fingers run wild through his thick hair, knotting it up, pulling him closer, demanding he love me with his tongue right here in the open. I don’t really give a rat’s ass that money is most likely being exchanged by my best friends, with Cassidy winning the bets. She’s a hopeless romantic and probably guessed correctly that I’d jump Jet Madden’s bones right here at the game in the middle of the student body.

“Daisy Pembrooke!” a harsh older man’s voice calls from the field, and I pull back like a thief about to make off with a bag of diamonds. Jet and I glance to the field at the same time, only to have the heavy flash of a bulb explode in our face. The perpetrator behind the camera runs like hell once he gets his money shot.

“Shit,” Jet growls. “I can catch him.”

“No.” I pull him back before he can jump down to the field. “Forget about it. He’s already gone.” The last thing I want is Jet arrested for assault. “Oh my God.” It hits me like a wall of water, taking me under and holding me down until my next breath becomes impossible. My fingers fly to my lips. “I’m sorry.” I shake my head in disbelief at what I’ve done. Jet was in that picture, too. By morning, both he and Think Ink will be ruined. “I have to get out of here.” I slip from his grasp and make my way into the sea of bodies traversing through the flux down on the field.

“Daisy, wait!” Jet roars, catching up to me quickly. “What’s going on? Why are you running away from me?” He grabs me by the wrist, but I’m quick to break free.

“Don’t you see? I’ve ruined you!” I scream the words at the top of my lungs, but the drama of it all is quickly swallowed by the noisy crowd. “I’ve turned you to mold, Jet.” I swat him over the chest without meaning to. Tears come, and I try to blink them away, but it’s no use. I’m too tired to fight it, of fighting every damn thing. “Get away from me! I don’t want to do this to you!” In an instant I lose myself in the crowd, sailing toward the back gate before making a run for my car. I can’t go to Jet’s. It’s over. There’s no way I’m going back there. It’s too tempting. I’m too weak. This would never work. I don’t know why I ever landed on his mattress to begin with.

“Daisy.” He comes panting from behind. “Where do you think you’re going?” There’s something soothing about Jet Madden’s voice, something so wickedly intoxicating I can’t help but lose my senses. “You’re coming with me,” he whispers hot into my ear.

I look up into those sharp marble eyes. “I shouldn’t fight it?” I shake my head ever so slightly because secretly I’m just beginning to hear those magic words.

Jet sheds the hint of a dirty grin. “Don’t fight it.”

And just like that, I abandon my car and let Jet drive us back to the house where for damn sure I will not be fighting a thing.

J
et drives
like his life depended on getting us back to his home as fast as humanly possible. He comes around and helps me out of the truck. My legs feel like Jell-O at the flurry of events that unfolded—first that very public, very much life-giving kiss that renewed my soul on an intimate level. It’s as if I were dead and Jet resurrected my weary bones by infusing me with his affection. But that jackhole who took our picture and the thought of what he plans to do with it shakes me to the core. I’m as happy as I am sad by the twists and turns this evening has taken.

He whisks us inside and locks the door, keeps the house dark in the event we were followed by any morons with a zoom lens.

“Jet, I—”

He touches his finger to my lips and shakes his head ever so slightly. His eyes illuminate in the moonlight, giving him a sexy alien appeal that makes my body tingle inside and out.

“When I saw you at the Black Bear, almost a year ago to the day, I thought there’s a girl I’d like to know.” His lips curl up at the sides, and his eyes remain locked on mine with laser precision. “When you came into the shop with your friends, I couldn’t believe I’d get to touch you, let alone maybe get to know you.”

“I guess that didn’t quite work out.” I give a nervous laugh. “I’m terrified of needles.”

He shakes his head. “I was so glad to see you at that bar time and time again. After a long day at work, I wasn’t really heading there to hang out with friends. It was you I wanted to see.”

I bite down hard on my lip in an effort to keep the tears at bay. I’m not sure why Jet feels compelled to tell me all of this, but I’m drinking down every last bit as if it were life-giving water.

His brows knit, and his expression grows pained. “Daisy, I’m not sure how many people have ever told you this, but you are special.”

A lone fat tear sears its way down my cheek.

Jet wipes it away with his finger, only to be met with another. “You’re beautiful—smart, funny—”

“You’re going to get laid, Madden.” I slip my hand up his shirt, and he winces at my touch. “No need to lay it on so thick.”

“No, I mean it.” He leans in and lands the sweetest kiss to the tip of my nose—first one I’ve ever received in that exact spot, and it sends a thousand butterflies loose in my stomach. “I’m not just telling you that because I’m trying to get laid, or because I think you’re nice.” His chest rises and falls as if he’s suddenly angry with himself or prematurely repentant of what comes next. “I’m telling you that because I’m falling hard for you. I want you here, in my life, in my bed, every single day. For so long you’ve been the bright spot, something in me craved to get to know you better, but I fought it.”

“I fought it, too.” It’s true. Jet was the one who made my heart beat faster, and I was so dead on doing this life thing alone I made myself believe he made my skin crawl. I’m the best at lying to myself when need be. Sometimes the lies you tell yourself are simply there to protect you from what you fear most, and, in my case, that would have been rejection. I’ve been rejected by just about everyone else in my life. Why not this big, beautiful man?

I cup his cheeks with my palms and pull him close to me, covering his mouth with mine in a greedy fashion that screams starvation more than it does anything else.

A deep groan rides through his chest, and I feel the echo right down to my marrow. Jet and I pull off our clothes at a hundred miles an hour, ripping and tearing, shoes flying and crashing all around the room. He lands me against the door, arms up and vulnerable as he lashes my mouth with his ferocious kisses. Jet and I engage in a strange dance that involves walls and tables, knocking into the television, stumbling into the bathroom a moment before our wild dizzying kiss leads us straight into his bedroom. He fumbles with a condom a moment before rolling it on, all while keeping his eyes glued to mine.

“Come here.” He pulls me over to him, his eyes dancing over each of mine as if trying to read what I might be feeling.

“I want this,” I confess, running my finger over his lips. “You and I kind of work, you know? But I get it. You’re a free agent, and you like to keep your prospects open. I just want you to know I’m okay with that, too. I’m not here to box you into anything.”

Geez. Is there a quicker way to kill a hard-on than talking to a guy about your relationship status right after he rolled one on?

A dark rumble of a laugh pumps through him, and I ride the wave his body provides.

“I’m not looking for other prospects. I already have the one I never thought I’d get, never thought I deserved, lying over my body.” He pulls one of my curls and wraps it around his finger. “I’m content with having one woman in my life, and that’s you.” He swallows hard. “I’ve never done that before.” His eyes close as if a horrible confession were begging to rip right out of his throat. “I can’t lose sight of Lucky. It’s just she and I in this world, and I need to make sure—”

Now it’s my finger pressed against his lips. “
Shh
.” I shake my head. “I would never let you take your eyes off that little spitfire for a minute.”

We share a quiet laugh.

“In fact, I’ll be your eyes when you can’t see her. I’m at Briggs, remember? I want to be there for both Ava and Lucky. I kind of like the big sister role. Sometimes I think if I would have had a sister myself, things might have turned out differently for me.”

Jet closes his eyes again briefly as if absorbing my words. “Thank you.” He gently lands me onto my back and loves me with a kiss that shows his appreciation more than words could ever do. Jet pins my hands over my head and runs kisses up and down the underbelly of my arms. He buries a kiss in the hollow of my neck before landing a sweet kiss to each of the girls. Then he’s inside me, slow and steady, his chest riding up and down over my line of vision. Those cut striations of sheer muscle glide over me as I try to keep track of them.

A deep moan evicts from my throat as he gives way to those last final few thrusts. His chest pounds so hard I don’t think he could have stopped if the house were on fire—I don’t think I’d want him to. Jet lets out a hearty groan that reverberates right down to my nexus and sends my toes curling just feeling him throb deep inside me.

“I was greedy. Sorry.” He presses a kiss to my lips, keeping his body inside me as long as he can.

A bubbling laugh comes from me as I thread my fingers through the back of his hair, and just as some sarcastic quip is about to fly from my lips, his pale eyes settle on mine, erasing any trace of banter that begs to stream from me.

“I’m greedy for you, too.” I swallow down the fear I had in letting those words free in the world. “I’ve never felt like this before.” My shoulders cinch to my ears.

“Like what?” His lips rise on one side as if he’s trying to charm the words from me.

Something in me loosens. “Like I may hold a grudge because I was denied the big O,” I tease, pressing my fingers into his rock-hard bottom.

Jet lets out a roar of a laugh before covering my body with his molten wet kisses. He leaves a hot trail straight down to my hips before pressing my knees to my shoulders and getting straight to work.

No need to hold a grudge after all. Jet Madden makes sure my big O is bigger and better than anything I’ve ever felt before.

What Jet and I have is bigger and better than anything I’ve ever had before.

I never believed for a minute that I needed anyone to complete me. Heart-shaped romances were for other people. My life was plentiful and perfect without all of that nonsense. Only now, it’s my past that seems like nonsense. That big gaping hole I kept trying to fill with pricey materialistic things seems to be flooded with the affection of this insanely beautiful man. I’m beginning to think that hole in my heart was the shape of Jet Madden all along.

A
fter a long night
of grafting our bodies onto one another, we rouse to the late afternoon sun already cresting the western part of the house.

Jet and I raid the kitchen, making any and everything we can get our hands on. We’re as ravenous for food as we are for each other. We hit the shower and enjoy a wet round of satisfaction with me on my knees ready to please, and I do.

Once we’re through, Jet helps me dry off, taking his time as if I were made of glass, and his sole responsibility is to make sure I arrive safely to his bedroom.

He carries me back, and I flip on the TV as the two of us lazily cuddle, still stoned off the high from gorging off one another’s affection.

“Tell me about these.” I trace my fingers along each and every delicious curve, line, and merging shape that creates the artwork that is Jet Madden. “Did it hurt?”