And when I find that motherfucker . . .
After a quick shower, the sight of Kai already in the kitchen truncates the thoughts of how I’ll punish Drex. Several delicious scents hang in the air around her. The smell of strawberries from the jar of preserves open on the counter tangles with her cinnamon pear soap. I smell the toast popped up in the toaster mingling with the rich roast coffee brewing. The sweetest and most addictive scent is the most subtle—just Kai. Just whatever chemistry mixes in that tight, petite body to make her skin, unadorned, smell the way it does without soap, perfumes, or anything else. I can never get enough of it.
Kai’s at the stove, back to me, so I have a few seconds to study her. Skinny jeans mold her toned legs and cup that round ass. Her favorite wedge-heeled Converse give her a few inches, but I know she still won’t make it past my chin. A cropped Kelly green sweater flashes just a strip of her slim back, and I know when she faces me, I’ll see her stomach, flat and subtly muscled. Her hair drapes over one shoulder, and I want nothing more than to have that dark, wavy mass poured over me while she takes the top and rides me until we explode into a hot Milky Way, lost in a galaxy where it’s just us. The sweater hangs off one bare shoulder, and her skin is melted honey gold fitted over delicate bones. She’s probably not wearing a bra, and any other day I’d send my mouth searching under that sweater and make love to her nipples until she collapsed in my arms, all weak knees and hungry hands.
Under all that beauty, I see her lies.
She turns to the refrigerator to grab orange juice and catches sight of me.
“Oh, hey.” Pink tints her cheeks. “I mean, good morning. I didn’t know you were up yet. I know you had a late night.”
I don’t answer and don’t move, but her voice like molasses, thick and sweet, sticks to me, weakens my resolve. And if I speak or move, I might give away just how flimsy my defenses are against her, when she’s not even trying.
“Um, there’s breakfast.” She gestures to the eggs and bacon and toast she’s made. “I wasn’t sure if you . . . well, if you’d want to eat, or if Sarita was coming. And I wanted to make sure you, well, had . . . yeah.”
I would laugh at her rambling if I wasn’t so gutted by what I saw on that tape. If I wasn’t so furious with Drex and frustrated that I can’t rip his throat out for threatening her and exploiting her. So I don’t laugh, I just keep staring at her, not sure which move to make. Her eyes drop to the floor. She shifts her feet and shoves her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.
“Say something, Rhys.” Uncertainty threads her words. “I can’t deal with the silent treatment.”
“Ironic since I did for two months.” I shake my head and move toward the coffee on the counter. “A few hours and already you can’t deal.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” She sighs and reaches up to grab a plate from a high shelf in the cabinet. The stretch pulls the cropped sweater up a little more to reveal just the bottom curve of her breast.
Dammit, no bra.
My mouth waters, and not for the food she’s plating. I sit at the counter, gulping down the coffee, even though it’s so hot it singes the lining of my throat. She sets my food down and takes the high-backed stool beside me, silently digging into her breakfast. Tension entombs the kitchen, sealing us in dead air and tight silence while we eat. After a few moments she tosses her fork onto her plate and takes a huge gulp of the orange juice.
“I thought it might . . .” Her words peter out, and she swallows. “I thought it might be better if I crash at San’s for a while.”
My fork hovers between the plate and my mouth for a few seconds. I drop it and swing my head around to stare at her.
“So you’re running again?”
“I’m not running.” She presses a shaky hand to her forehead, shielding half her face from me. “I just thought it’d be better for you. You obviously don’t want me—”
“Stop right there,” I cut in. “How the hell do you know what I want? How do you presume to know anything right now?”
“Well, you didn’t want to be anywhere near me last night and you’re barely speaking this morning. I thought you’d . . . I just thought it would make it less awkward while we figure things out.”
“Do you have any idea how hard it was for me not to fuck you in half last night?” I demand, voice low and tight. “And even now, not to bend you over the counter? I want you all the time.”