My Sweet Demise (Demise #1) (36 page)

I clear my throat.

He turns around on the couch, ending his call. “Smart-mouthed nosey thing, you.” He smiles at me. “She says she loves you and to have fun and if I act like a buttmunch for you to call her and she’ll be there.”

“Did you call her?”

“I did.”

“Why would you put yourself through that?”

“Believe it or not, you’re worth dealing with your sister. I didn’t want her to worry while we’re gone. You might not come back the same person.” He winks at me. “You might come back engaged.”

“Stop it.” I look away and he laughs, loving how he’s torturing me. “The last time you got engaged it didn’t work out so well,” I remind him haughtily.

“I’m a different man.” He raises his eyebrows. “You’re a different girl. I proposed after sex. That’s probably where I went wrong.”

“Was the sex good?” I grip the edge of the couch.

“Now what kind of man would I be if I answered that?” He pushes to his feet. “Wait, don’t answer that.”

I roll my eyes as he approaches me. “I don’t want anything you guys did. I want different.”

His playfulness goes out the window. He stops right in front of me and moves the damp strands of hair away from my face. The entire time his eyes are on me, pulling me in like a magnet. “You deserve different, Mrs. Nicholson.”

I groan and push him away, stomping into kitchen. I have no intention of doing anything in it, I just need to get away from his teasing. His warm laughter chases me. “Why is that funny to you?”

He’s behind me suddenly, pulling me against his chest. His hands are splayed against my stomach, urging me against his unexpected hardness. “I like to know things are mine. I’ve lost one girl and I don’t want to lose you too. In fact I’m pretty sure you’d be the death of me if you left.”

I try to see his face and his expression, but he smothers himself in my neck. “Maybe you have to work on your trust too.”

“Maybe,” he agrees, kissing my throat. “Maybe you have to be understanding. I’m a jealous man and I want a way to make sure no man can take you from me.”

I don’t understand. He cheated on Willow. That’s why she left. Right? “No man can.”

“I thought that about Willow too. But if it was going to be any man it was going to be him. He’s like a better version of me.”

“Who?”

“Marry me, Rain.” He whispers it so softly I can barely hear it.

My entire body freezes. “Kent.”

“Say yes.” He kisses me right over my pulse, softly placing kisses until he gets to my jaw. “Please?”

“Someday.”

“Soon?”

“No.”

He sighs against me, blowing his breath all over me and drying his kisses. “I’m not going to give up.”

“Why is marriage an end-all be-all? People get divorced every day.”

“My parents have been together since they were sixteen. They got married when they were eighteen. I don’t think anything can separate them. To me marriage is the end-all be-all.”

The emotion in his voice makes me shiver. “My parents were married too,” I point out. “My father had a different girl every time he got drunk. I remember this one time he came home smelling like the honeysuckles out in front of our house. I thought he fell in them again, and then I saw the red mark on his neck and the look in Mom’s eyes, and I knew he’d cheated on her. Again. To me that’s marriage.”

“Where are they?” He holds me tight for a different reason.

I shrug. “I don’t know. They haven’t tried to contact us. We’ve been living in Jacksonville our entire lives, so I assume they don’t want anything to do with us. We’re not that hard to find.”

“Does that make you sad?”

“It breaks my heart.” My voice cracks. “But at least I have Becca. She’s all I need.”

“And me.”

I smile sadly. “And you.”

“Marry me.”

“No.”

He clears his throat and kisses my cheek, getting closer to my mouth. “It’s their loss, you know? Your parents. You’re an amazing person and anything you do now they don’t deserve to be a part of. Remember that.”

His words make my chest burn. “Thank you.”

“Promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“When you see him, remember I loved you first.”

“Who?”

“You want to hang out tonight? Maybe we can go on a date?” He releases me finally and smiles hugely at the impossibility of his words.

What is he talking about?
“My first one? Sorry. I think Max blew that when we got tattoos together.”

He makes a face and closes his eyes, breathing deeply. “Trying. Give me a minute.”

I wait for him to calm down over his jealously.

When he’s calm he opens his eyes and gives me a tight smile. “I don’t have any tattoos.”

“You’re sexy without them.” I touch his abs. “I don’t want anything marring this.”

“Sexy, huh?” He hugs me to him. “I think you’re pretty sexy too.”

“Me?” I feign disbelief. “I haven’t a clue why.”

He grins down at me. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that I’ve seen you naked. Or how sexy you are when you’re just being you. Or how when you look at me with those hazel eyes my heart nearly stops. I love those eyes. I love this smart mouth.” He kisses softly, eyes sucking me in. “You’re pretty sexy to me.”

“Show me how sexy you think I am.” I touch the hair peeking out of his boxers.

He sucks in sharp breath and grins wider, eyes naughty
just like that
. His hands slide down to cup my ass. “First we’ll start with this. When you move this, I’m done for.” I start to rock my hips and he nods. “Done for.” He slides his hands up to my waist, trails them over my stomach and then cups my breasts. “You have a beautiful body and perfect tits. But this,” he says, reaching up to cup my face, “is my favorite part. Everything I want is up here.” He kisses me deeply.

“Everything?” I whisper against his lips.

He reaches down to touch me through my shorts. “Well, not everything.”

He whisks me into his arms and carries me to his bedroom. We don’t waste time. My clothes are off and so are his. He slides the condom on over his length and then enters me slowly. We look into each other’s eyes the entire time; even when I orgasm and they threaten to close I keep them open for him so he can see what he’s doing to me. Watching his pleasure is something I don’t think I can ever get used to, because I’m responsible for it. I’m doing it to him. His pleasure is as much mine as mine is his. When we’re finished I lie beside him, breathing hard and satisfied.

He stares at the empty condom boxes on the floor. “We have one more left.”

I smile at the ceiling, recalling Becca’s excuses. “Have you ever not used one?”

“No,” he admits.

“Really?”

He looks over at me. “Really. I’m an idiot, but I’m not a complete moron. I wasn’t going to risk getting a girl pregnant.” He winks at me. “Why, you want to?”

“I’d like to try it.” Skin on skin sounded enticing.

He looks down at his penis. “What do you say, big fella? You think you can go again?”

I swat him and laugh. “Kent.”

“Sorry. The consensus is a snack and a break. Let’s go to dinner.” He rolls out of bed and grabs my ankle, pulling me away from his pillows.

“How? We don’t have a car. Did you find your bike?” I get of bed and grab my panties, putting them on.

“No. Not yet,” he reveals.

I frown and put my bra back on. Following with my jeans and his shirt, I’m as good as I’m going to get. “You’re a buffoon. Who loses a motorcycle?”

“Only me.”

I sit down on the bed and comb my fingers through my hair as he dresses in a pair of jeans and a white shirt. He styles his hair, which only makes it look like he didn’t style it at all, and rubs some moisturizing stuff on his face. Spraying cologne on himself, he eyes his reflection in the mirror. “Hot or what?”

“Or what.”

He rolls his eyes in the mirror. “Hater.”

On our way into the living room I grab my purse off the floor and find my makeup. As he calls a taxi I try and look as
or what
at him.

“Oblivion,” he says into the phone.

I drop my mascara. “Kent.”

“Eight’s good.” Hanging up, he looks at me. “What?” he asks innocently.

“I thought we weren’t going to drink anymore?”

“We’re not. We’re going to go to Oblivion and make kissy face all over Sophie’s section. And maybe we’ll dance and I’ll talk to Wayne and get your job back.”

I look at him firmly. “I don’t want my job back.”

“You don’t?”

“No. I want to go to school. I don’t know what for, but if I have to work at a bar for the rest of my life with people like Sophie while you’re rich and successful I’ll implode. And I don’t need to rub you in her face. She’s not worth lessening myself. Let’s go somewhere different.” My timid smile increases. “Like a real date.”

He raises his eyebrows at me and sits back on the couch. “You want a real date? You got it.”

When the taxi gets there we exit the apartment hesitantly, and I know it’s in case Becca is hiding in the bushes. I can picture her crouched with a gun aimed right at Kent’s penis. I rather like his penis, so I walk close to him. He smirks down at me as if he can predict my thoughts, nudging me forward by my lower back.

“Change of plans,” he informs the driver. “You know that seafood restaurant on the coast? We’re going there.”

As we drive, Kent takes my hand and holds it on his lap, tracing my palm. No matter what happens we’re in this now. I chose him and he chose me. At this point worrying will only sour how I feel. And that’s something akin to hope and happiness. For the first time in my life I’m almost willing to admit it out loud. But there’s something in the back of my head preventing me. She’s got a role in this story as well. What’s going to happen when Kent sees Willow and realizes there was a reason he loved her once?

When we arrive at the restaurant Kent and I crawl out of the back after he slips the driver a hundred dollar bill. I wonder momentarily what that must feel like being able to throw a hundred dollars on a taxi ride because I can. Losing motorcycles and blowing five hundred dollars at the bar. Kent is spoiled beyond belief.

“Kent, does it bother you I’m broke?”

He frowns as he holds the restaurant door for me. “You’re not broke. We’re together. What’s mine is yours. I’ll make enough money for both of us, whether you marry me or not. Which you will.” He sounds so sure it comforts me. “Eventually.”

“Are you okay with eventually?”

“As long as it happens.” He takes my hand and guides me to the hostess stand.

Once we’re seated at the window, where we can watch the sea roll in, the ocean clear and blue, I decide to let Willow go. She’ll be center stage soon and I’d rather lessen her stage time.

“Can I start you two off with something to drink?” the waitress questions, spying Kent like he’s going to jump up and take her on the table.

I refrain from rolling my eyes. “I’ll have a Diet Coke.”

“And I’ll have a sweet tea,” Kent orders, smiling nicely at her.

She smiles back, but it isn’t nicely. “What about appetizers?”

“You want anything, Rain?”

“The crab-stuffed shrimp sound good.” I make my tone saccharine. “And the garlic fries.”

“Great,” she says, although I don’t think she means it.

When she’s gone Kent laughs quietly. “I never noticed how uncomfortable that is when I don’t reciprocate.”

He shakes it off as his cell rings. “Mom?” he answers warily. “I know. I was born that day. I’ll be there tomorrow. I know, how spectacular. Sorry, my smart-ass mouth must be someone else’s fault.” He winks at me. “My birthday’s on Friday. I expect all house guests to make themselves scarce before then.” As his mother answers, Kent’s face pales. He is so white I start to get up but he waves my concern away and I sit back down. He swallows hard and his eyes twitch, as if he’s either too angry to be angry, or too heartbroken to be broken. “How long have you known? I’m so happy for them,” he bites out.

He takes a long shaky breath and runs his hand down his face. “I bet you’re pleased,” he manages. “So this wasn’t about my birthday? This was about them the whole time?” His expression makes me shrink. “I don’t want to disrespect you. I’m going to hang up now.”

Her desperate pleas get cut short.

The waitress glances at him nervously as she brings us our drinks and appetizers. “Are you ready to order?” she asks me.

Now she wants to talk to me? “Come back—”

“No,” Kent snaps. “We’ll order now. I want the lobster and king crab bucket. What do you want, Rain? The same. Say the same.”

“The same.” That’s the most expensive item on the menu.

“Two lobster buckets coming right up,” our waitress answers meekly, desperate to get away.

“Shit,” Kent whispers. His eyes are evil. They’re simmering silently with rage. “One drink?”