Dominic
Great.
Now Kayla Pratchett thought I was a dick.
Granted, part of me still thought she was a bitch, given the fact that she hadn’t attended her own aunt’s funeral and was already planning on selling said-aunt’s house. Even so, now that I’d met her face-to-face, now that I’d talked to her, now that I’d seen for myself that she didn’t really seem like a bitch, well, I found the idea of her thinking I was a dick unacceptable.
Too damn bad, though, because given how I’d just acted, she was well within her rights to think that about me.
Yeah, I’d been on edge lately, because my fiancée Ada had thrown what we had away, but that wasn’t Kayla’s fault. It actually wasn’t even Ada’s. She’d done what she believed she had to do—which was leave me for a man she’d met and fallen in love with more than she loved me—and though it had hurt me, I was the one letting it control me to the point I was being rude to a complete stranger.
After giving me a brief but intense ass chewing for my unprofessional behavior—one I definitely deserved—Taylor headed outside to check out the front of the house, telling me that after I was done acting like an asshole, to go take a look at the back. He left me to gaze at Kayla’s closed bedroom door, torn between the urge to knock and apologize to her and the urge to get the hell out of this house and as far from her as possible.
Bitch or not, I was undeniably attracted to our new client. She was the type of gorgeous that gorgeous women didn’t know they were—face like an angel, and round in all the right places, but not too round. You know, borderline curvy that pushed the boundaries. Cushion for the push-in, as they say. And her eyes—those big hazel eyes—made her look more like a milkmaid off a Georgia farm than a NYC chick.
She had no idea she was hot. Or maybe she didn’t care. And that made her even hotter.
Every time we ran into each other in the house, I could feel the heat coming off her body. She thought I couldn’t see her nipples growing hard for me. Or maybe she knew I could see and didn’t mind. Either way, I had to get her off my brain. She was here to get the house old Ms. Vanderzee had lovingly bequeathed to her off her hands. It was none of my business.
Neither was the fact that even as she seemed to be physically attracted to me, Kayla was clearly attracted to Taylor, too.
At least, I couldn’t make it my business.
Even if I was tempted to.
God, how I was tempted.
I could too easily picture the three of us together—her, me and Taylor—and that had happened only one other time with a woman: Laura.
We’d all lived together in college. Then we’d all slept together. It had been good. Really good. We’d even experimented and brought in our friend Logan to join in on the fun occasionally, but ultimately it had been me, Laura, and Taylor who’d had the true bond. Or so I’d thought. I’d fallen in love with Laura, wanted the three of us to be together permanently, but Laura had really only wanted Taylor.
I hadn’t shared a woman with anyone since.
I missed it though.
I love being with a woman alone, but the sounds a woman makes with multiple men is indescribable. Even years later, I still grow hard when I recall the moans that escaped Laura’s lips as Taylor nibbled her inner thigh as I twisted her nipples. The dirty, nasty words she’d say as I slid the head of my cock in and out of that sweet, sweet mouth of hers while another man thrust deep inside of her, were seared into my mind. I could come by simply recalling how she’d wrap one hand around my dick and one around Taylor’s as she lay between us, sweat dripping between her quivering breasts. And then when Logan came into the picture and there were four of us—hell. I could get hard merely thinking about the writhing mass of bodies formed by all of us, loving up and loving on one woman.
In the end, it was Taylor her heart wanted. Logan and I had just been convenient pleasure-giving pawns in her attempt to get it. Too bad for her Taylor wasn’t willing to give his love. She moved to a town near Fosterman and I had seen her around a few times, but we never spoke after the big break-up.
After Laura, when I was with a woman, I told myself to keep it at sex. No feelings involved to mess things up. No emotions. I fucked and fucked and never thought about anything further than the girl’s next moan, her next shiver down the spine, her next orgasm.
Only then I met Ada and broke my rule. And I'd paid the price for it. I couldn’t even blame Taylor this time.
Ada had been all mine.
And then Ada left.
Once again, I’d fallen in love with a woman who might have loved me but ended up loving another man more.
So I swore again: no more feelings. No more emotions. Just sex.
You could keep it at “just sex” with Kayla, a devilish voice whispered inside my head. You don’t even like her, so why not? You could fuck her on every surface possible in that big house of hers. Hell, Taylor could join in if she wanted. Kitchen counters, bathroom floors, up against the windows on the second floor overlooking the road. Hell, anywhere, everywhere. I’d make her scream my name till she couldn’t even remember her own, and I’d enjoy watching Taylor do the same.
Yeah, that would be great, for damn sure.
The problem was, I knew myself a whole lot better now than I had when I was with Laura and then with Ada. The way Kayla looked at me, as if she could see every terrible, horrible thing I’d ever done and yet still kept looking, stirred something inside of me. I wish I could look at her and only see a hot piece of ass to chew on for a few weeks.
But I didn’t.
So I couldn’t pursue my attraction to her.
I couldn’t pursue her at all.
Because like it or not, like her or not, I was afraid that what started as “just sex” between me and her could easily turn into a whole lot more than I was ready for.