Ocean (Damage Control Book 5) (18 page)

Especially when it twitches, starting to harden and lift, so close I could have kissed it. Or taken it in my mouth.

He groans. I look up at his face, and something hot passes behind his eyes.

Then, before I find the words to ask, he steps into the shower stall and turns on the water.

Ocean

Fuck.
I’m so damn cold and shaky—and hard. So damn hard.

The image of her kneeling in front of me, her sweet mouth inches from my dick is branded in my brain. I wanna feel her lips wrapped around my cock, feel her tongue playing on the underside, her teeth scraping over my taut skin. I wanna come down her throat, or all over her pretty tits.

The water is scalding my flesh. I doubt it’s that hot, though. It’s just that my skin is like ice. I can barely feel my feet and hands, though my right wrist is swollen and throbbing.

Memories assault me. Cold. Water. The pond. Leaving the cemetery. Leaving the trailer park. Mom and—

Shit.
Everything that happened today slams back into me, and I brace both hands on the tiled wall, drowning in it all.

Mom’s sickness. The money issues. The change in my plans.

In my life.

I’m not leaving. But I don’t know where the fuck to go from here. I’m in Kayla’s apartment, Kayla’s shower, and I’ve told her I’m not gonna leave—but she doesn’t know what I mean, does she? I never explained. Never told her much about myself.

Don’t even know if she wants me. What she wants from me. If anything at all.

And I’m about to pour my fucking heart out to her, tell her things that might well make her hate me and run the other way.

She asked me to come back, though. She’s taking care of me.

And she doesn’t know anything of importance about me.

Fuck…
I rest my forehead on the cool tiles as the hot water beats down on my back. Never been so out of sorts in my whole damn life, and that’s saying a lot. Never wanted a chick with both my mind and body.

Why do I need her so badly? Why am I doing this to myself? I never thought I was a masochist.

But there’s never been anyone like her for me, ever.

Goddammit.

Thinking about her, even in the sorry state I’m in gets my dick twitching. Her memory is inextricably woven in my mind with sex and food. Soup, muffins, donuts—kissing, touching, coming.

Kayla.

Biting back a moan, I slide my hand down to grip my hard-on. My pulse is pumping at the base, my balls drawing in tight as I tug and drag my fist to the tip and back.

What if Kayla walked in and saw me beating my meat? Would she watch? Would she join me? Would she take off her clothes and press her bare tits to my back, reaching around to help me jack off—or would she come around in front of me and let me pound into her until we both come?

Christ, can’t believe how damn close I am to shooting my load. My ribs burn like fire, and my wrist hurts, and I can’t stop jerking off to the image of her.

I hear a creak and glance sideways in time to see the door of the bathroom open and Kayla enter carrying a folded towel.

She freezes, eyes round, like a deer caught in the headlights.

My grip on my junk tightens. The air leaves my lungs. What will she do? My memory’s full of her taste, her moans, her gorgeous tits, her sweet scent.

She’s coming closer, her face flushed, the towel forgotten in a pile on the floor. Her red hair curls at her temples, fine and shiny, and her mouth is pursed as if blowing a kiss. Her low-cut sweater shows me the deep shadow between her tits.

If possible, I get harder.

“I came to see,” she swallows, “if you needed help.”

“I do,” I mutter and let my gaze trail from her tits to her legs, and then back up, slowly, until I reach her face.

“What do you want?”

“You.” I shake my head, but it’s the truth, and I can’t fight it any longer. “I want you.”

A smile spreads on her pretty face. It’s like the sun coming up, and it’s sexy as fuck. Especially when she starts undressing.

Holy shit.
My fantasy is coming true. I tighten my grip on my dick to stop from coming—because not yet, dammit—as she tugs off her long sweater, her tits threatening to spill over the cups of her pink bra, and then they actually sort of spill out when she bends over to push down her jeans.

God. Dammit.
My dick twitches in my hand.

Mind control. I can do this.

I grind my teeth and try to look away—but I find I fucking can’t. My gaze is glued on this girl as she kicks off her shoes, her jeans, her socks, and stands in front of me in her mismatched pink bra and red panties.

Oh hell.
I need to brand this image in my mind. She’s so fucking sexy, from her pouty lips, to her perfect tits, to her round hips, to her red toenails.

And then she unclasps her bra, lets it fall, and pushes down her panties, and I strangle my dick in my grip until I whimper—because, hell, what’s a guy to do with a sight like this?

I’ve seen her naked once before, but there was always something in the way—her blouse, her skirt.

Never standing in front of me like this, her pale skin gleaming, her eyes bright, her nipples hard.

I want to breathe her in. As if she’s oxygen and I’m lost in outer space.

“Come here,” I whisper. “Or I’ll come all over your shower just from looking at you.”

She steps under the spray, and I press her up against the wall, gripping her wrists and lifting them over her head, trapping my leaking, aching cock between our bodies.

Her eyes widen, then she lifts her face, and I slam my mouth to hers, kissing her deep, thrusting my tongue between her lips. Her hard nipples drag over my chest, her tits pressing into my burning ribs, and the pain jolts me for a moment.

Then it starts feeding the heat in my insides, hardening my balls, turning my cock to steel. She’s moving, her hips rocking into mine, and I gasp at the electric bolts shooting up my spine.

Fuck, I won’t be able to hold off much longer.

“Kay,” I whisper against her warm mouth.

“You’re warm now,” she whispers back and wraps her arms around my neck. “So warm. I was so worried.”

My dick twitches again. “Fuck, I want you.”

“Inside me,” she says. “God, I thought something had happened to you. I thought…” There’s something like pain in her bright eyes. “Need you inside me, now. I want to feel you. I want to feel it tomorrow when I wake up, feel you were in me.”

Holy shit, the things she says. I swear, if I don’t get my dick inside her right the fuck now, I’ll explode.

“Down,” I grind out and go to my knees, pulling her down with me. She laughs, and I lick at her mouth, silencing her. Christ, even her laughter makes my dick jerk.

It’s everything about her. Her eyes, the funny faces she pulls, her energy, her concern. Her prettiness.

And now her smooth skin gliding like silk over mine as she climbs onto my lap. Her tits are in my face, so I lick her nipples, suck on them, her taste ramping up the need, the tension in my gut. She moans, and the sound brings me so close to the edge I bite her nipple lightly.

She squeals.

I lick the hardened tip in apology and run my hands down to her hips. They rock, pushing against my hard-on, and I hiss.

“Please,” she whispers. “Now.”

“No condom.” I swallow, my mouth dry. “My wallet.”

“I’m on the pill. Do it.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

I smooth one hand over her flat belly to her pussy, dip a finger inside. So wet. She writhes on my lap as I slide my finger in and out, then add a second one. She’s a tight fit, and I’m not small. She mewls, and my control is breaking at the seams.

Shit, I can’t wait any longer. I pull my fingers out, grab my dick and nestle it between her legs. She lifts up on her knees and opens up for me.

The head of my cock nudges at her wet entrance, and then I’m sliding into her, a slow glide into heat and pressure. She gasps, relinquishing her hold on my shoulders to free one hand, and she reaches down to touch my cock where it’s slipping into her pussy. It’s still not even halfway in.

“Touch yourself,” I breathe, “slide your finger…” I feel her light touch on top of my cock as she strokes her clit, and I pant, fighting for control once more.

Seems it’s all I do with this girl, struggling for control. As she shudders in pleasure, she opens up more, and I slip inside her balls-deep.

My mouth opens, but I have no breath left even for a moan. It’s so good, the pressure, the heat, the feeling of her pussy shifting and rippling around my dick.

She’s riding me now, hands braced on my shoulders, rising and falling on my cock, taking me deeper every time, and I slide my hands upward, to cover her tits, play with her nipples. God, I love her tits. Love her nipples, how hard they are under my touch. How sensitive. With every stroke of my thumb over their tip, she clenches like a vise around me and makes those sexy, mewling noises.

“Come, Kay,” I whisper, so ready it fucking hurts. “Let go. Come with me.”

Fall with me. Dance with me. Take me as deep as you can. Kay…

Her head drops back as she rides me faster. I hiss, my hands dropping to where we are joined, because, fuck, I’m coming, the pressure snapping and liquid fire bursting from my dick as I rock into her.

“Kay,” I gasp, “Kay, oh fuck…”

My whole damn body goes taut and starts to shake with my release.

She moans, her fingers digging into my bruised shoulders, and she’s coming, too, milking my cock, making it jerk again, spill more.

Wringing the last dregs of pleasure from me, leaving me limp and sated and drowsy. Loopy. Flying high, as if on drugs.

Has to be why I gather her close and murmur into her wet, warm skin, “Blue loves Kay so fucking much.”

I love you, Kay.

Jesus Christ.
So this is what it’s like. This feeling, like floating, like lying in the sun. Like feeling its heat with your eyes closed and smiling because you know it’s there.

I laugh quietly, the sound muffled against the soft flesh of her shoulder and bite down, just enough to make her twitch around my dick.

Red hearts, and white doves, and rainbow unicorns trotting on green grass. She’s a fairytale, and I’m lost in her, buried deep, and I don’t ever wanna leave.

***

Somehow I manage to untangle my body from hers at some point and shuffle to her bed. I catch a glimpse of more colors there—posters of fashion models and cloth collages and golden Buddhas—before she slips into the bed beside me and pulls the covers over us.

I’m warm, from her body, the hot sex, and the scalding water—in that order. Warm and so relaxed I can barely move.

But I wanna look into her face. I avoided it after the stupid words I uttered in the shower, and now I have to see what she made of them.

Of me. Of the mess I am and my brash declaration. As if letting me fuck her means anything to a girl who told me messing around with her meant nothing. Changed nothing.

It takes me a good moment to turn on my side, and then I discover that I’ve fucked up my ribs worse this time and almost black out from the pain.

“Shit.” Kayla rolls me on my back, then jumps up and returns with another pillow that she puts under my head. “Your ribs, huh? You sure I shouldn’t drive you to the ER?”

“I’m okay,” I wheeze. “Nothing they can do about it.”

Jeez, they hurt like a bitch. Guess the adrenaline is finally seeping out of my system, and my muscles are cooling down in degrees, letting me feel it.

“I’ll bring you some painkillers,” she says, slipping out of the bed again, and I want her back.

God, my head’s screwed up. Nobody told me wanting a girl was a mindfuck.

She’s back in a heartbeat, and I swallow down whatever it is she gave me, not even looking, my gaze caught on her face, on her gleaming naked body.

Her tits. Fuck, I love them.

But more than that, I love the twinkle in her eyes, her happy smile, the things she says. Her sweetness, her concern for me, her voice when she asks if I’m okay. The fact she was the first to arrive at the accident scene, the first to hold me. That she cared.

I love her for it.

For everything she is.

This is dangerous territory. Getting too close. I didn’t realize that being near her was a hazard to my self-preservation.

When she takes away the empty glass and leans over me, I cup her face and kiss her. Kiss her like she’s the only fucking reason I exist, like I’ve never kissed any other girl before.

She’s smiling when I surface for air, and hell, that’s the one, the smile I love, the one that makes her eyes shine and puts a hint of dimples in her rosy cheeks.

More brash words get caught in my throat, and I struggle not to say them. God, this girl. I’m staring at her and can’t seem to stop.

“Shall I turn off the light? You must be tired.”

“Nuh-uh.” I’m wide awake, caught in my thoughts about her, and in pain. My swollen wrist throbs in time to my heart.

She snuggles in beside me, and when I unfold my arm in invitation, she leans her head on my shoulder and sighs contentedly.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispers and kisses my shoulder. “That you didn’t die. That you didn’t break your bones. That you didn’t drown in that car. I’m so frigging happy, Ocean Storm.”

I grunt, because I love how she feels against me, and her soft curves pressed to me means my sluggish body is stirring again, my dick hardening. “I’m happy, too. Shocker, I know.”

She snickers, her breath warm on my naked skin. “Have you told you parents? Or maybe you don’t want to worry them? I’m mostly saying it because your car is gone, and… I don’t even know why I’m saying this. No, I know. I mean, Micah said you go visit your parents over the weekend most of the time, and I don’t know if that’s where you went today, but—”

I tap a finger on her soft mouth, and she gasps and falls quiet.

Too many thoughts warring inside my head. She’s right. My car is gone. Hadn’t given this much thought until now, not even when the policeman was asking me questions. For the life of me, I can’t remember what he asked or what I replied.