CHAPTER 12

The week went by like a turtle on ADHD medication. Killian called each night sounding tired and irritable, but he said he just wanted to hear my voice before he kicked it. Other than his nightly voice, the week basically sucked until Thursday when I met my crew at a local restaurant bar. Amanda and Lyle were there before me and somehow managed to get a booth in the back corner away from prying ears. I knew they were both capable of camping out in the parking lot until the place opened to get that booth. I also knew they wanted the inside scoop on Killian.

They sat across the table with me in the inquisition seat. We ordered our drinks. I acted normal, took my time looking at the menu, and basically played it cool.

“What the fuck, sis?” Lyle broke first.

I glanced up. “Huh?”

Amanda jerked the menu from my hands and slammed it down on the table. I started laughing.

“You are cruel.” Amanda had her best school marm bitch-face on.

“Yes, I am, but you guys don’t really expect me to give details do you?”

“Yes,” they practically shouted at the same time.

“He’s incredibly hot.” I waited a beat, seeing displeasure written on both faces. “All over.” I felt heat rise in my cheeks.

“Now we’re getting somewhere. Talk to a brother about size.” Lyle batted his eyes.

I choked on my drink. “No.” I coughed some more. “I will not.”

“He’s so hung,” Amanda said, stretching out the “so.”

“And how would you know?” I snapped back.

“Okay, so he’s not hung.”

“I hate you and yes…he’s…god, I don’t like that expression.”

Amanda looked at Lyle and they both turned my way together.

“You didn’t show him your straitlaced side did you?” Lyle asked.

God, they drove me crazy, but I loved them. “I’m staying at his place this weekend.”

“He’s hung.” Amanda gave a knowing smile.

“Stop saying that.” In exasperation, I changed the subject. “He said I could invite the two of you to the game on Sunday and he’d really like to take you out to dinner.”

They didn’t comment on my proposal or miss a beat.

“So tell us about the sex—is it good, is he kinky, did you learn anything?” Only Lyle would ask about kink.

“Compared to your kinky shenanigans, I doubt he’d compare.”

“She said shenanigans,” Lyle teased. “He’s got to be kinky. I’ve had these dreams.”

“No,” Amanda and I said at the same time.

“Okay, but you both secretly want to know.”

“Not about Killian.”

Amanda slapped Lyle on the shoulder. “You’re letting her get away without telling the good stuff, Lyle. You know fact is better than fantasy.” She turned to me. “So tell us the facts.”

They were never going to leave me alone, so I took a deep breath. “He has a thing about nudity.” There I said it.

“As in, he doesn’t like it?” Amanda’s eyes got huge.

“No, he likes it…a lot. The less clothing the better. Even in his kitchen.”

Amanda shook her head. “Wait a minute…you’re going along with this.”

Lyle nudged her. “You’re surprised?”

“With you or me, no. With Rebecca Cavanaugh, hell yes. I’ve only seen her completely naked once.”

“Do tell.” Lyle’s eyebrows went up and down in his best imitation of a perv leer.

“You’re gay,” Amanda said with barely controlled patience.

“The two of you never seem to mind when I talk about my fuck toys. You got the inside on Miss Priss’s body over here, I get to hear it.”

“No.” Now my voice was elevating. “You will both stop talking about my body. I’d like to enjoy dinner.”

Lyle looked at Amanda. “Okay, I see your point. She couldn’t possibly be living naked in Killian MacGregor’s fuck pad.”

I ground my teeth, but then noticed they were holding back laughter. “I hate you both.”

“Na, you love us.” Lyle flashed his famous smile, the one that got him some of the hottest “fuck toys” in the area. “Ropes, leather, chains?”

My forehead hit the table and I knocked it against the wood once more for added effect. I really did love them, I reminded myself. They stuck by me freshman year with Greg and then my sophomore year with Steve. My latest dry spell with no boyfriend was completely tolerable because I had them. They knew my secrets; my fantasy white-picket fence, babies, and happily ever after. They also knew as well as I did that this type of make believe rarely came true in today’s modern world.

I needed to give a little here. “He bought me makeup and hair products for his house.”

“Now that’s kinky.” Lyle rolled his eyes.

I finally gave them the PG-13 account of the weekend, telling them almost everything, just leaving out the more intimate details. I also kept the psychologist information quiet because I hadn’t read anything about it online. I trusted my friends, but there were some things I didn’t need to share.

***

I woke up Friday morning with a smile on my face. I ran twenty miles, came home, and cleaned my apartment. I got my favorite polish out and painted my toenails bright purple. Every year on my birthday, Amanda paid for me to get a mani-pedi, and then on her birthday I paid for hers. Other than that, we were on our own.

I averaged two hundred dollars in tips on Wednesday nights and used the money for utilities and food. Anything extra went into the bar jar. Before I turned twenty-one, it was the dinner jar. That money also doubled as my savings, and I now had a little over two hundred dollars. My scholarship paid my tuition and gave me a stipend toward my apartment. A small student loan each year paid the rest. I took the bus or walked, and besides my weekly party night with Amanda and Lyle, I lived cheap. Once track season started, my travel expenses, including food, were covered. I would have about ten thousand dollars in debt when I graduated, but that was a drop in the bucket compared to most students.

What I lacked on my limited budget were dress clothes. Buying off the rack at cheap clothing outlets was difficult with my height. I scoured second-hand stores and every so often came up with a winner, but I suspected it wouldn’t be considered a prize in Killian’s world. He said he liked my short skirt, so I decided to wear it. I had a cranberry-colored blouse that I’d never worn; I had luckily found it on clearance one time when I shopped with Amanda. Normally, I would unfasten the shirt one button below my collarbone, but I decided to brave it and leave another undone. I took a long look at myself in the mirror. With trembling fingers, I unbuttoned the blouse, removed my bra, and refastened the buttons. My body type allowed me to leave off my bra, but I’d never been brave enough. I took a deep breath and continued my preparations.

There was no question about my hair. If I put it in my favorite ponytail style, Killian would have it lose five seconds after seeing me. He had a thing for hair and he liked it messy.

When five o’clock rolled around I started pacing, too nervous to sit still.

What if he changed his mind and didn’t show up?

The knock startled me and I smiled. Opening the door, he immediately moved me back and locked his mouth to mine. He smelled and tasted so far past good that I couldn’t concentrate as my arms circled behind his neck. He placed his hands on my ass and brought my needy sex firmly against his cock. Killian was very happy to see me.

He had me anticipating sex against my front door, so I moaned when he broke the kiss. His eyes traveled down my body. On the return perusal, he undid the highest closed button on my blouse and then the next.

His dimples displayed fully with his sexy grin. “I like.”

He twined my fingers with his and preceded me out the front door.

“Got your key?”

My hand went to my nearly naked chest.

“Leave it, baby. Do you have your key?”

“Yes, but I can’t go out like this.”

“I could unbutton one more and you could still go out like that. I’m starving, let’s go.”

He ushered me into his car before walking around and folding himself in. The engine started and we pulled away from the curb.

“Killian, please, I don’t feel comfortable.” Mortification caused tears in my eyes.

He pulled back over to the curb, turned my way, and gave me a solemn look. “You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. I don’t understand why you hide that gorgeous body.”

He leaned in and tipped my chin up. His eyes always conveyed that I was beautiful and he had such a way of making me feel like a sex goddess. To tip the scales in his favor, he took my lips in a tender, do-this-for-me kiss.

What else could I do?