Page 8

8

Sahara

G od, what the hell am I doing?

I hug myself, and stare at my phone, waiting for Kalen to message back. The next thing I hear is Kalen’s door slamming and his boots pounding on my outside steps. Damn. I’m being foolish.

My front door opens with a bang, and his worried eyes narrow as they reach mine. “Sahara?”

I gulp and try to act casual. “I’m sorry.” I laugh it off. “I heard a noise, and…” I glance at the stairs, and laugh again like this is all silly, but I don’t think I’m fooling anyone, least of all myself. “I heard something upstairs. It was probably just the wind.”

Going straight into action, he locks the door behind him, takes my stairs two at a time and I stare at his back until he’s out of sight. I hug myself as his boots echo on my wood floors, and door hinges creak as he searches all the rooms. A few minutes later, he comes back down. “No one there.” He glances over my head. “Stay here though. I’m going to check down here.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s okay.”

He takes my shoulders and moves me until I’m sitting on the second last step on the stairs. “Wait right here.”

I curl into myself, and sit tight as he continues the exploration of my main floor, and the door to the basement, which I don’t use, opens. He heads down and my body relaxes when my ears meet with silence. Yeah, it was just the wind, and I’m an adult and really shouldn’t have panicked. Maybe it was silly of me to text Kalen, but I have to say, having him here is beyond comforting.

He comes back, and I’m about to stand, only to stop when he crouches before me. “No one here. I’m sure it was the wind, but I’m going to check around outside. Maybe a garbage can blew over or something.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s okay.” His gaze searches my face. “How about we skip the drink, and you come home with me tonight?”

I gulp. My door is fixed and I have a camera. Running away because I heard a noise is ridiculous. “I don’t much feel like going out for a drink now, to be honest, and I think I should sleep here. I have to face my fears and sooner rather than later is probably for the best.” This time I take in the worry on his face. “We could actually have a drink here, if you’d like?”

“Sure. Let me just do a quick check outside first.”

He stands, and holds his hand out to me. I graciously accept it and he pulls me up. Instead of turning, he holds my hand for a second, and I give him a grateful smile. “Thanks for checking. I appreciate it.”

“I was thinking,” he begins, his voice an octave lower. “You should probably just ease yourself back into staying here alone. Someone breaking into your house is scary, and unnerving. It can be hard to simply go back to normal.”

“That’s what I’m finding,” I admit. “Any ideas on how I can ease myself back into staying alone?”

“Your lock is fixed and you have a camera, but I can add to that comfort by staying the night.”

I open my mouth about to tell him it’s not necessary, even though I love the idea, and he must think I’m going to protest, because he quickly adds, “I’ll sleep on the couch...” He straightens his body, putting his arms at his side like he’s one of the Queen’s guards at Buckingham Palace, and with a very bad British accent, proclaim, “…where I shall protect the queen and guard over her manor.”

A grin plays with the corners of my mouth. “Ah, what the heck was that?”

He bursts out laughing and it lightens the mood in the house…err…I mean, manor. He shakes his head and cups the sides of my face as he leans into me. “I don’t know. But what do you think? Would having company help?”

“I think so and there’s no way I could say no to such a noble offer.” He sweeps a thumb over my cheek and my entire body warms. “Thank you, Kalen.”

“It’s not a problem.” He pulls his phone out. “I’ll just let Taylor know that you’re scared and I’m going to stay the night.” He shoots off a text and after one comes back he puts his phone away,

“There is a problem, though.” I curve my mouth, as he lifts an inquisitive brow. “If you’re going to stay the night, there’s something you need to know about me, first.”

He cocks his head, his eyes narrowing. “Oh.”

“I’m not who you think I am.” His thumb still on my face, and his muscles tense. He almost looks horrified, and that’s not what I was going for at all so I quickly blurt out, “I’m not a woman who keeps her word.” He begins to inch back, like I slapped him so I add, “I want to have sex again. When I said I didn’t…I wasn’t being entirely honest.”

A mischievous grin tugs at his kissable lips. “Well, I think I can forgive you this time.” He steps back into me, lifting my chin an inch. He dips his head, his mouth close to mine, and I smell minty toothpaste on his breath. My lids fall, and I lift my chin, waiting for the kiss and when it finally comes, I sag against him, my earlier worries evaporating around me.

“Problem is…” he begins, his lips leaving mine. “I don’t want to have sex again.”

My heart jumps. Omigod, I read this all wrong. Dammit, how could I have just assumed. I know these guys have revolving doors, but I just thought…I mean, he was the one who asked if we could keep doing it. Maybe I was really bad at it? No wait, that’s not right. He wanted me to tell him what I liked, or discover for himself.

I’m so damn confused.

I inch back, ready to bolt, but he takes a step into me, and cups my face.

“Babe.” There’s a new kind of urgency in his voice as he dips his head, his eyes searching mine. “I’m kidding. I meant it as a joke and thought you’d take it that way. Jesus, I’m so sorry. I’m such a dick. Of course, I want to have sex with you again, and again, and again.” A tortured sound rises up from his throat. “I am so fucking sorry, Sahara.”

“You’re not a dick. But you do have one and…”

I let my words fall off, teasing him.

“And?” he asks.

“And maybe you could do something with it, an apology of sorts for teasing me with such a straight face.” I chuckle. “Maybe you should be the one on stage.”

“Nope, I’m not an actor, and I’m not a great liar.” Something dark, and tortured passes over his eyes, before he blinks it away. “Now teasing…I’m good at that.”

“Exactly how do you like to tease?”

“Take me to your bedroom and I’ll show you.”

I tap my chin. “Ah, I thought you said you were sleeping on the couch. Protecting the queen of the house like a noble servant.”

“I don’t remember saying anything about a servant, but…” His grin is wicked as he lifts me clear off my feet, and starts up the stairs. “I wouldn’t mind serving you.”

“Ooh, I love the idea of that.”

He takes the steps two at a time and carries me to my bedroom. He sets me on the bed, and since we’re the only two here, doesn’t bother to close my door. “We don’t have to hide what we’re doing at your house.”

I lower myself and settle on my mattress. “Does that mean I can scream and moan as loud as I want?” I’m teasing, of course. I think.

A grin curves his kissable lips. “Yes please.”

I laugh at that, and his gaze leaves mine and strays to my nightstand. My heart jumps, because I think I know exactly what he has on his mind. “Kalen,” I murmur. Oh, God is this really happening. How did I go from wallflower nerd to having Kalen in my room, about to go through my private things?

“Can I?”

I gulp. No man has ever been in my nightstand before. It’s where I keep my toys and that’s exactly what he’s after. “I don’t need them when I’m with you,” I explain and it sounds feeble, even to me.

He rolls one shoulder, a big grin on his face “I know, but it sure would be fun to check them out, see what they do for you.”

I inch back a bit, my breath coming a little faster. “You want me to…use one?”

“Do you only have one?”

“No,” I admit.

“Then no.”

Okay, I’m losing track of this conversation. “What? No, what?”

“I want you to use them all.” He arches a brow as his fingers hover near the handle. I whimper, my heart pounding so hard, I’m not sure I can even hear anymore, but I can read the question on his face, and since I’ve decided to discover who I am and what I like, I nod. He pulls the drawer open and smiles. “Impressive collection.” He pulls out my pink wand and examines it. “Of course, you don’t have to use them all tonight.”

“Oh, God,” is all I can manage to say as he runs his fingers along the length of my wand.

I nearly orgasm just from the mischief in his eyes as he gazes at me. “What’s this one called?”

“It’s a wand.”

He cocks his head. “You don’t name them.”

“Well, I mean…”

“You do?” He adjusts his pants and my gaze drops to take in the bulge. He’s loving this. “Tell me,” he commands in a soft voice that sends thrills racing through me.

“Kalen,” I whine, as my body warms, my pussy throbbing for a little action. He holds his hand out, and starts flickering his fingers toward himself, as if to say give it to me.

Grinning, he says, “Come on, out with it. It will be our little secret.”

I snicker at his antics. “Fine, that one is called Clit Eastwood.”

He stares at me for a second, and then he bursts out laughing. “That guy from the old spaghetti westerns? Are you kidding me?”

I nod and I’m not even really embarrassed, which is strange. “I’m not kidding you.”

“Is he your favorite? Oh, wait, maybe your toy is a she.”

“It’s a he, and he’s…magical.” My eyes practically roll back in my head as I recall the last time I used that toy.

He frowns. “Hey,” he shoots out, but there’s humor in his eyes. “I thought I was the magical one.”

“Oh, you are, and I’d prefer your touch over Eastwood’s any day.”

“Good.” He turns back to my nightstand, then, like he just had an epiphany, his gaze flashes back to mine. His dark eyes are vibrant with curiosity. “Do you have any toys for two?”

“No,” I admit. “Do you?”

He laughs. “No, babe.” He wags his brows. “But I’m open to the idea. I heard toys aren’t a great substitute for a partner, but can really enhance things in the bedroom.”

I really love that this man has no hang-ups. I once read that men were intimidated by sex toys, thinking they could be replaced, but not this guy, and not that any toy could do the job better than him. The human touch—Kalen’s touch—is far more pleasurable and intimate than any toy.

“Mr. Eastwood isn’t much into pillow talk and he’s awfully hard to cuddle up with after sex.” The grin Kalen offers me strokes me deep between the legs and I honestly can’t believe how much fun I’m having right now. “Do you have any toys at all?” I ask, surprising myself with the personal question, but hey…apparently, I ask these kinds of questions now.

He chuckles, tucks my vibrator under his arm and holds up his hands, wiggling his fingers. “Don’t need any. Got these. Oh, and hey…” His gaze goes from one hand to the other. “Since I have two hands, I guess I do have toys for two.”

A soft laugh escapes my lips. I wiggle my fingers. “I have these, but…” I pause and briefly close my eyes. “It’s nice to let the toy do the hard work.”

“I wouldn’t call bringing you to orgasm hard work, sweetness. In fact, it’s fucking awesome and damn enjoyable.”

I moan, hardly able to believe this conversation, but liking it just the same. “Glad you think so.”

Setting Clit Eastwood on the nightstand, he steps up to me. He puts his hand on my face. “But I’m open to whatever you want,” he tells me as I reach for the button on his jeans.

“What if I want a lot?” I admit. Wow, who have I become and what happened to Darien?

“I hope you do.”

I grin at him, my nipples so hard from this insane banter, I’m sure he can see them poking out of my big bulky sweatshirt. But really, why is sexy repartee, or even talking about my most intimate—private—activities so easy with him?

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, because I want to give you whatever you want.” His eyes darken with heat and lust. “What do you think of that?”

“I think that’s a great idea.” I nibble my lips and add, “Not that I need any toys when I’m with you.”

“But it could be fun, right?”

“Yes, fun,” I agree. “We can have fun for a little while longer.” This thing between us can’t last too long, for many reasons.

“Yeah, a little while longer.”

Warmth moves over his face, and he bends and presses his lips to mine as I pull his zipper down. He growls, and I shimmy his pants over his hips to free his beautiful cock. He stands to his full height, and once again, I look at the long length of him and try not to stare in fascination.

He tucks my hair behind my ear, and when I spot pre-cum on his slit, my entire body quakes. As much as I want him inside me, I really, really want him to come in my mouth. I just don’t want to sound needy or desperate or for him to know that I’ve never made a man come that way, never swallowed cum. But with him, I’m ready to experiment and try anything.

“Tell you what?” I breathe over his cock and it jumps before my face.

He swallows. “Yeah?”

I can barely believe what I’m about to do, but here goes nothing. “Let’s show each other.”

He stares at me with glassy eyes, zero understanding reflecting in his gaze. I grin, loving that I can do this to him. But he’s a guy and once the blood leaves his brain, he’s probably like this with all women. Not that I want to think about other women right now.

“I’ll show you how I use my toys, if you show me how you use yours.”

“But I don’t—” Before he can finish, I grab his hand, and run my fingers over his palm. “Ahh…” His chuckle curls around me and a hard quiver rocks through my body as I envision myself sprawled on my bed, using Clit Eastwood. Am I really going to do this?

Holy God, I am.

He takes his cock into his hand, and wets his bottom lip. “One condition…”