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DEKE

TWO WEEKS LATER

They say all good things come to those who wait.

Well, I’d like to call them a fucking liar.

I have a case of blue balls you wouldn’t believe, my dick is rubbed raw, and I’m pretty sure if I take another cold shower, I’ll turn into a block of ice.

It’s worth it, though, to see Kelsey’s walls slowly drop.

They’re still there, lingering in the background, and if I say the wrong thing, even in passing, well, they go right back up, rightfully so.

Apparently, keeping my mouth shut and not sounding like a dick is hard to do.

It’s something I’m trying to work on, but after ten years of conditioning myself to stay emotionless and detached unless it comes to my family, well, it’s hard to do, but I’m trying.

Tonight, though, I’m hoping things will be different.

I’ve kept us away from places that would have me taking Kelsey anyway I can.

That meant us going out to dinner, grabbing a drink after work, walking on the beach, and even hitting a farmer’s market because it makes her happy to buy fresh flowers for the week along with vegetables.

I stored the way she brought the hydrangeas, peonies, and roses to her nose, smelling them with joy written on her face.

I’ll be making sure she gets them on the rare occurrence we don’t make it to the market.

I had thoughts of finding a more permanent place, something that’s closer to the water, not on the intracoastal area where people are there to party, but I didn’t.

Instead, I called my sister and asked her to work the magic that women seem to have and outfit my place, fast. How she managed to do it in the amount of time I gave her, I’ll never know, but I do know I’m not in deep, and not in just the credit card department.

One thing about Leena is that she’s about style and comfort, which comes with a hefty price tag.

After everything was set up, I made the call to Kelsey asking if she’d like to have dinner at my place, going so far as to take a half day off work on a Friday to pick everything up to woo her.

I’ve just set the chicken to marinate, the potatoes are chopped into bite-sized pieces and coated with olive oil, salt, and pepper, and a salad is chilling in the fridge when the doorbell rings. I’m nervous. Me, the cocky asshole. If my brothers could see me now, they’d be laughing.

“Hey, sunshine.” I open the door. Kelsey is standing there, a six-pack of beer in her hand, dressed to kill in some kind of two-piece dress, the top wrapping around her waist and the skirt short, showing off all that smooth skin.

“Hi there, yourself. I know you said to bring nothing but myself, but I figured beer wouldn’t hurt.” She walks inside. My hands open and close, unsure if I should start something that could possibly delay our dinner.

“Not at all.” I follow her into the kitchen.

Once she sets down the beer on the counter, taking in the place, and turns around, I make my move.

There’s nothing better than the feeling of her hair in my hands, the slight breath of air that steals her body as my lips touch hers, tongue sliding across her plump lower lip, gaining entrance as she wraps hers around mine.

I press in closer, moving us until her back is against the counter, knowing if I wanted to, the clothes we’re wearing would be on the floor, my body plastered to her as I tunnel my cock in and out of her wetness.

“Deacon.” Kelsey’s the only one to call me by that name, unless you count Asa being a dick.

Hearing the softness in her tone, the neediness underlying it, fuck, I’m ready to take her.

Hell, I want to, desperately, but that would only leave us back where we started, and I didn’t come this far for Kels to push me away.

“You make me lose my mind.” Letting go of her is hard. Holding her in place by her hips so she won’t follow is fucking harder.

“Maybe that’s what I want to do, did you ever think about that?

” Shit, she’s not playing fair, not in the least. I look at her, really look at her.

Kelsey’s hair is mussed from my hands fisting it, and her clothes are skewed from our kiss.

I didn’t even realize that my hands moved the entire surface of her body apparently.

Her nipples are distended, making my mouth water.

The way her lips are red from my mouth, neck red from the rasping of my light beard, I’m ready to drop to my knees and let her feel me between her thighs, tasting her again and again.

“If you’re ready to talk, sure. If not, the answer is no.

” A devious look takes over her face, a small smirk that’s all too telling, and when she pushes away from the counter, it’s me who backs up even more until it’s me against the counter, against a makeshift island the homeowners of this rental installed.

“Nope, not yet, and that’s okay, for now.

Right now, I’m going to make you lose that thread of control you’ve somehow managed to hold on to, and it’s driving me crazy.

” With that, I watch as she prowls towards me, the slow sway of her hips.

I could put a stop to this, but fuck, there’s no denying this pull between us.

I’ll do whatever she wants, consequences be damned, even if it means this relationship I’ve been working for has to be rebuilt again.