Hit the Spot

Getting it good. Yeah fucking right. That kiss was nothing special.

Only I’m a liar trying to convince myself concrete shit isn’t true, like tits aren’t God’s greatest creation.

That kiss … fuck.

Tasting better than I’d imagined. And I’d fucking imagined, plenty of times. More times than I was willing to admit now.

She moaned. She fucking moaned.

Then she bolted, and I couldn’t let her rip it all away from me without chasing after her and getting more. And I knew once I got her against me, she’d be giving in and letting herself feel that shit like I was feeling it. I was wearing her down. That kiss was proof. Legs couldn’t fight it anymore.

It was happening. We were fucking happening. Jesus … fucking finally.

Only we weren’t. Shocking the shit out of me, Legs hit me with a no instead of giving in to this, to us, and it didn’t matter how much her body was wanting it to happen or how fucking hard I was, I heard her. Loud and clear. She was telling me to stop.

Telling … me … to stop.

I backed off. Had to, but fuck. Moaning one second and then giving me that. Hesitating when I asked her straight out if she was feeling this, which meant she was feeling it but didn’t want to admit that to me. What the fuck? I didn’t need that shit. And if Tori Rivera was going to play those fucked-up mind games with me, then maybe she wasn’t worth the nine months I’d put in. And no matter how much I’d thought about it, dreamed about it, and damn near obsessed over it, maybe it was a good thing I hadn’t done more than just kiss her.

I was fucked enough as it was. And that was before she tried to kill me.

Now I wasn’t just through waiting around for her pussy, I was avoiding it altogether. I was over it. Done. Didn’t need that kind of crazy and sure as fuck didn’t want it.

I could forget about Tori. Should be easy enough.

Only … Motherfucker. That kiss didn’t suck. Not even a little.

The door opened behind me, turning my head, and Syd, Dash’s girl, stood in the doorway wearing an apron and a welcoming smile that cranked up in brightness at the sight of me.

She had looks and easy charm she didn’t need to work at—it just flowed. Was a little nutty with some of the honesty pouring from her at times, but like the honesty, she gave that smile to everyone it seemed, not just to people she knew.

Made her a helluva lot nicer than Legs.

I called her Sunshine as a joke, considering how much she was trying to hate on me on account of her friend. The nickname stuck when she stopped hating and started doing anything she could to shine a good light in my direction, hoping Legs would see it.

Syd was a sweet girl. Thought that before I found out she was healing Dash and getting him back to living instead of just merely existing. Now I had mad respect for Syd and a whole lotta love, too.

She earned that.

“What’s up, Sunshine?” I greeted her, stepping closer. When she didn’t back up or step aside, allowing me room to enter, I halted, tilted my head, and questioned, “You gonna let me in?”

Her eyes did a quick assessment of me as her lips pressed together.

Christ. Here we fucking go.

“I feel the need to point out, even though I’m happy you’re okay and understand in times of stress there is cause for exaggeration,” she began, one brow lifting as she met my gaze. “Being one to exaggerate in times of stress myself, I get it. But you don’t look like you got run over by a car, Jamie.”

“Most of my injuries are internal,” I explained, flashing a smile. “And the rest are only visible after I strip.”

Her eyes got round, and then those same eyes rolled a second later.

“For real, though, she basically tried to kill me,” I added.

“That’s not what she’s saying,” Syd shot back, sticking her hand on the hip that wasn’t holding open the door. “And do you really think Tori would do something like that on purpose? ’Cause I don’t.”

I stared at her.

Figured Syd would be siding with her girl on this one, but it wasn’t like she was oblivious to the hate Legs was always putting on me. Shit. A good bit of it was put on me during family dinners in this fucking house.

“Yeah, babe. I do. She’s had it in for me since day one,” I bit out, not in anger but more in exasperation. “Now what the fuck? Am I eatin’ outside on the porch or are you gonna let me in?”

Her shoulders pulled back as her brows drew together.

“Okay, first,” she began, her voice getting sharp, “I would only make you eat outside if we were having a cookout, which is something that will be happening after Brian and I get deck furniture, not before. I’ve always believed in hosting properly, and not supplying your guests with a place to sit is not hosting properly. I personally feel very strongly about this and—”

“Babe, no disrespect, but can we skip ahead to point two so I can come in and get a beer and you can get back to cookin’?” I interrupted, crossing my arms over my chest. I ignored the heated look being directed at me and quickly explained, “You know I got love for you, Sunshine, but you’re going off on a tangent, and when that happens, it usually takes you a while to get back on track. I’m just looking out for the food you got in the oven. Straight up. You’ll thank me when it doesn’t burn.”

Her eyes flickered wider.

I didn’t think she was going to oblige me. I also didn’t think she’d let me off the hook for pointing out her tendency to ramble. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">