Reckless: A Bad Boy Sport Romance (73 page)

“Uh, yes it does, 'cause I'm living in the real world. Come join me out here.” I snatched up my purse from behind the door. “I'm not doing this with you now. Let's just put whatever this is on hold. We're late.”

“But I –”

“Come on, Jackson! It's time to go!”

XXX

“Thank you so much for the caramel milk tart,” Nellie gushed from across the picnic table. She was positively glowing today in a gold and white party dress, along with her shimmery eye shadow and gilded lips. “I can't wait to dig into that later.”

“And thank you for inviting us.” I smiled, shoveling some fish
laulau
onto my plate. The shredded fish slices tainted purple from taro leaves joined the pineapple fried rice and
kalua
pork in front of me. “Jackson's been itching for a reason to get out of the house. He can't wait to get back to school in 2 weeks. Isn't that right, Jackson?”

“Yup! I wish I could go back to school tomorrow.” Jackson chimed in next to me. He licked off the grain of yellow rice stuck to his bottom lip. The 3'5” charmer then proceeded to lean over the table to add another serving of rice on Faith's plate. “You're almost done with your rice. Here's some more!”

“Thank you, Jackson,” said Faith shyly next to her mother. She giggled, blushing adorably as she swung her legs under the bench.

Nellie and I wiggled our eyebrows at each other. As she turned to talk to her mother, an attractive larger woman with a thunderous belly-laugh, I gazed around at the rest of the party. 3 picnic tables were pushed together Last Supper style, surrounded by the laughing and smiling faces of the Kahales. Though they all came from different walks of life, there was a heartwarming and clear love for each other that tied them all together. They actually seemed to genuinely enjoy each other's company.

“Ugh, why does everything taste like taro?” Jamie bitched on the other side of me.

“Shut. It.” I scolded her through gritted teeth and a fake smile, kicking her under the table. Subtly turning towards her, I continued with a hand over my mouth. “How does it feel to have a son with better manners than you?”

“Whatever. I haven't been to a party this lame since –”

“Excuse me, Nellie,” I said loudly, standing up. “Where's the bathroom?”

“Straight down the hall, first door on your left.”

“Great.”

I left Jamie to sulk and headed into the Kahale residence, ironically to get some air.

But as I started to open the bathroom door, it swung back on its own. My lips parted in astonishment as Kingsley appeared on the other end. Seeing him in a dashing dark gray suit and his pressed dress shirt, I knew I didn't stand a chance.

“Oh. Excuse...me.” I dug my nails into my fingers nervously. I was under the impression that Kingsley and Odell still weren't talking, so I hadn't expected to see him here.

“Hey, Carrie. Odell never mentioned you were coming today.” Kingsley took a step back with a sexy head tilt. “By the way, wow.”

“Nellie never mentioned you were coming, either.” I touched my ear and looked away from him. “I think I smell a setup.”

“It does sound like something they would do,” Kingsley admitted, leaning against the doorway. “So, how've you been?”

“Fine, I suppose. I'm glad Xiao-Xin finally came forward – better late than never.”

“Good to hear.” Kingsley took a step towards me. He raised his hand slowly, and when I didn't back away, he slipped his hand behind my neck. “I've missed you, Carrie.”

“I guess I've missed you, too,” I answered him softly, lacing my fingers together around his back. Standing on my tiptoes, I smacked him on the back of the head. “And you're a dick.”

“Okay, ow,” said Kingsley, massaging the spot. “What was that for?”

“I've tried everything humanly possible to get myself to stop thinking about you,” I rasped, gazing up at him seductively.

“And that's my fault, how?” Kingsley grinned, leaning in to plant soft, sensual kisses on my lips, the type that barely grazed your lips and left you begging for more.

“I think we've got a couple of minutes before someone starts looking for me.” I checked behind my shoulders, stroking his chest suggestively. “Wanna get in that bathroom and show me how much you've really missed me?”

Kingsley didn't even bother to answer. He pulled me into the bathroom, slamming me against the back of the door. I kissed him passionately, grinding up against him as I locked the door behind me. As his tongue swirled around my mouth, he handled my breasts through my dress with one hand and eased down the zipper on my back with the other.

My dress drooped off my shoulders and fell down to my ankles. Stepping out of my dress, I hoisted myself onto the sink counter. Kingsley peeled off my thong, grinning as he stuffed it into his back pocket. He unbuttoned his pants, positioned my ankles over his shoulders, and unveiled his cock.

My hot cunt throbbed as I eyed his thick pole in his hands. He wasted no time, driving his cock straight into the moist lips between my legs. My head jerked back, knocking against the mirror as I felt his length filling me whole. His thumb found its way over my clit, strumming the bead as he thrust himself in and out of me.

I clung onto the counter's edge and hooked my feet around his neck. Kingsley took the hint. He slid his hands underneath my butt cheeks and lifted me a few inches off the counter. The angle opened my passage slightly wider, allowing him to venture deeper into me.

The head of his stiff cock brushed against my shy ridge. At the same time, he leaned forward and pressed my heavy tits together, tasting my deep cleavage greedily. I groaned, biting down on 2 fingers to keep my shattering moans from leaking out the thin bathroom door.

“Just – just keep doing that. I'm almost there –”

“Fuck,” Kingsley grunted, doubling his speed. “Me too...”

Right as a leg-numbing wave of carnal rapture took control of my body, Kingsley pulled out of me. I straightened up my quivering body and leaned forward to receive him. He rammed his cock into my mouth. I could feel his shaft pulsing between my cheeks until a jet of milky cum spurted out of the tip.

After forcing the thick, salty cream down my throat, I bent over to rinse my mouth in the sink. Kingsley and I quickly got redressed and pushed our ears up against the door. Hearing no one on the other end, we crept out of the bathroom.

“Alright, I'm gonna go in before Jamie and Jackson come looking for me. Wait around 5 minutes before you –”

“Wait. Jamie's here with Jackson?” The relaxed look on Kingsley's face slowly washed away, his forehead puckering. “Carrie –”

“No. We're not having this conversation again.” I made up my mind, strutting away from him. “I'll see you outside.”

Chapter Forty-Three:
Carrie

“Augh... Kill me now.”

For what felt like the hundredth time this week, I scrolled through the Twitter feed of pop sensation, Justice Schriever, and the current king of the hip-hop scene, Bolly Wood. Their week-long beef over Arlena Venti was almost surely a publicity stunt. It was a pretty good one, too, with their borderline unintelligible tweets garnering over 30,000 re-tweets each. After all these years, it still never ceases to amaze me how the masses could eat up anything a celebrity does with the slew of real, significant horrors going on in the world. Needless to say, this trivial bullshit was grade A material for The Daily Dirt.

Deciding I've had enough for the day, I shut my laptop to check on the oven. The only upside to my new position was the new leniency to my schedule and the option to work from home. I hunkered down, peering in to gauge the status of the thin potato slices crisping on the oven tray. With the smell of olive oil and baked potato chips wafting in my face, I reached over to pull the oven door.

My phone started ringing.

I turned off the oven and reached for my phone, wedging it between my ear and shoulder.

“Hello?” I took out the tray and set it on the counter with a pair of oven mitts.

“
Is this Carrie Toussaint?
” A woman with a British accent was on the other line.

“This is she.” I threw off my oven mitts, fanning the tray. “May I ask who's calling?”

“
This is Sydney Chapman, the Bureau Chief of The Veritas Journal. We're the –
”

“Most prestigious news agency this side of the world,” I breathed, finishing her sentence for her.

“
Why, thank you. That's a mighty fine compliment.
” Sydney chuckled before she carried on. “
I stumbled upon your piece, 'Clubhouse Confidential,' several weeks ago. And I have to say, after looking through your other articles, I'm quite intrigued by your style.
”

“Thank you so much.” My cheeks were starting to sting from the grin I couldn't keep off my face. “I really appreciate that. To be honest, I'm thankful for what I've accomplished over the years, but investigative journalism and world news is where my heart truly lies.”

“
Judging by the quality of your articles, I gathered as much. Which brings me to why I've rung you up in the first place. We have an opening for a full-time columnist with a starting salary of $60,000. Are you inter –”

“$60,000? Starting? Yes, a thousand times, yes,” I babbled, tugging at my lip excitedly.

“
Wonderful. Let me leave you Tiana's number – she's the secretary here. You can set up an appointment with her for an interview.
”

“Great, thank you so much. I'll see you soon.”

I jotted down the number and hung up, doing a little victory dance around the kitchen counter. As I slipped a crunchy potato chip into my mouth, my phone rang for a second time. Seeing Kingsley's name on my screen, I quickly answered it.

“Guess who just got an interview at –”

“
Carrie. Listen to me. My contact just called to let me know that Jamie swung by his place last night –
”

“What?” The smile on my face faltered. “That – that can't be right. Jamie was out with one of her old colleagues from work last night...”

I stirred, falling silent as it dawned on me. Now that I thought about it, Jamie hadn't uploaded any pictures of her night out last night. Normally, this was no biggie, but Jamie averaged 7 posts a day on each one of her social media profiles.

“No, no,” I shook my head, trying to convince myself. “That can't be right.”

“
Carrie, you need to keep your eye on Jamie –
”

“Everything's fine. We're all fine.” But I couldn't push down the tumultuous feeling in my gut any longer. “I gotta go.”

“
Carrie, wait –
”

I hung up my phone, laid it down on the counter, and set out for the living room.

“Nurse Abby?” I called up the stairs. “Nurse Abby, are you staying for dinner?”

When Nurse Abby failed to answer me, I started up the stairs slowly. Each careful step I climbed creaked loudly under my weight. For some reason, I was getting more lightheaded with each step. I had to support myself on the railing to keep from tumbling backwards.

I crossed the second floor landing to Jackson's room. My mouth opened as I was about to call out Nurse Abby's name again, but I quickly changed my mind. I exhaled a shaky breath, twisting the doorknob.

“Jamie.” I was aware I was speaking, but my voice seemed so distant. “What are you doing?”

Jamie was standing over the nightstand next to Jackson's napping figure. She retracted her arm instantly, lifting the syringe from Jackson's bowl of oatmeal and cranberries. My unblinking eyes settled on the amber cork bottle next to the bowl.

“Carrie!” Jamie stepped in front of the nightstand hastily with her arms behind her back. “Can't you knock?”

“Where's Nurse Abby?” I took another floating step towards her. None of this felt real.

“I sent her home.” Jamie was starting to sweat. She turned around, hiding the syringe in her palm and pocketing the vial. “We're both home – there was no need for her to stay –”

“Answer me, Jamie,” I pleaded with her, my words coming out in a sad whine. “What were you doing to Jackson's food?”

“What – what do you mean?” Jamie was looking everywhere but at me. “This was – Nurse Abby left this – it's supposed to help with Jackson's digestion –”

“Let me see the bottle.”

“What?”

“Let me see the bottle,” I repeated firmly, extending my hand.

“N-no.” Jamie glanced at Jackson, her mouth contorting. “Get out, Carrie. You're going to wake Jackson –”

I reached for the bottle from Jamie's front pocket abruptly, wrenching it away from her. “No! What are you –”

“Oh my god.” As I inspected the label, my legs wobbled under me. “Kingsley was right. I didn't want to believe him, but it all makes sense now – god, Jamie, how could you?!”