Chapter Seven
Kady
“Oh! Yes....right there, honey.... it’s.... don’t stop, Keegan!”
Keegan has the nerve to grin up at me from his spot between my legs, his eyes sparkling with possession and pride. Holding my gaze, he licks an orgasm out of me that shakes me to my very core. I shout as I implode, clawing at his muscled back and chanting in a language I don’t know how to speak—until he touches me.
It’s been two weeks since he snuck me to the woods and fucked me until I couldn’t walk straight. Two weeks of the sweetest, sexiest, most sinful days of my entire life. Every single free moment I can spare, I'm with him. If I don’t have a minute, he seeks me out at my shop or my place and takes my minutes anyway. Or hours, or days, however long it takes him to get enough.
Only, it seems as if neither of us can get enough.
“Open up, firecracker, I'm just getting started,” he promises as he spreads my thighs to climb between them, thrusting once and filling me so full I come with a shudder.
“Keegan, honey, please,” I beg, plead, and demand of him and like always, he gives.
Sliding into me fast and hard, he shakes the bed, my body, and my entire world off its axis. I come a fourth time, kissing him to quiet my cries as I tremble in his arms. Those thick arms wrap tight around me as he twists us, drawing me against his chest.
I knew I was mad about him before we wound up in the woods that night, but I didn’t know why. I mean, he’s pretty. Lord is he a pretty man. That night he took me home, I savored and worshiped every inch of his pretty body, his pretty mouth, and his pretty cock.
After several orgasms, we started talking.Really talking.About where we grew up, why we landed where we are now, and what we want out of life. He spun me around to some of his favorite Eagles tunes and I cooked us meals while playing my favorite Cher classics.
In just days, I knew more about him than I ever bothered to learn about another man. I told him stuff only Chantel knew—how far I fell after my parents died, how food became an addiction I would make but not eat, and even how I lost my virginity the night I buried my parents.
“Christ, it gets better every single time,” he grunts as he peppers my skin with kisses.
He tells no lies—what I thought might wear off after a few days just gets more twisted and entangled.
If I am not at Bite and he’s not at his work site, we’re together. Not all our nights are spent in bed. They’re spent in ways that matter. Laughing at bad kung-fu movies, nights at Bite where he tests my new ideas, or at his place where I’ve bonded with his beast of a dog.
“Didn’t even know that was possible,” I hum dreamily as I walk my fingers over his muscled back.
“Time to eat, babe,” he bites playfully at my neck and I shudder before he licks the pain away, “my turn to cook. I’ll make you my special dish,” he promises, dropping a sweet kiss at my lips before slipping away.
Watching his taut backside and thick thighs stride away has me hungry for more than his special dish.Heis a special dish. Sweet and funny, he has apologized almost every day for those first harsh words we had. He laments it was out of sheer jealousy—he truly believed I was with Baker and it, apparently, drove him completely mad.
Sliding my silk robe on, I pad down the hall towards the kitchen. It’s a bright Saturday morning and I peer out at the Halloween decorations lining the street. It’s just two weeks away and the town is in the mood. It’s my favorite holiday besides my birthday so I'm looking forward to it.
Suddenly, I'm overcome with an idea and I rush to the kitchen. I stop in my tracks at what I find. Keegan is cooking eggs and bacon and something that smells sweet and delicious. Bonus: he’s bare and beautiful, singing a country tune with the radio. He fits in my place and in my life as if he was always meant to be a part of it.
“Look at you,” I grin as I lean against the door, doing just that, “you are a sight to behold, honey,” I tease with a whistle, reaching out to swat his firm backside.
“You too,” he reaches a spatula out, playfully flicking at a pert nipple, “look good enough to eat, actually. We can skip breakfast and you let me have dessert.” He sets the spatula down, advancing on me.
Before I can answer, he has me in his arms, off my feet and then planted on the big island splitting the kitchen in two. It was a selling point when I chose this house, great for cooking, prep, entertaining. His mouth on mine scrambles my thoughts much like the eggs he’s cooking.
When his big hands skim beneath my robe, I'm not thinking about food or great kitchen spaces. I'm thinking about him here, cooking me eggs and bacon in the buff whenever he wants. Or us showering together like we did last night and then watching all the bad movies we want for the weekend—every weekend.
I even think of a good spot to put Boomhauer and his big bed and bigger doghouse
What I’m thinking as he unties the sash on my robe is of a future. With him. With us. Not sure what anuseven looks like—I've never been part of one before. I never tried to date beyond having a good time. I’m no wild child but I also never planned to settle down.
“Pumpkins!” I shout before he can shove my robe off.
“Pumpkins,” he cocks a brow at me, looking sexy as he steps back and smirks, “we using safe words now, babe? Is pumpkins a safe word for you?” he asks, sliding his hands up my thighs.
Shaking my head, I wait for my senses to settle down before I talk. He makes me say and do stupid stuff when he touches me, so caution is necessary. If I'm not careful, he will have me asking him to move in and bring his beast of a dog. Offer to make room in my closetandmy heart—both things I don’t share.
“No. Though, to be clear, if we were doing safe words, minewouldbe pumpkins,” I laugh and draw him closer, hating that little space between us, “I meant let’s go get pumpkins. I want to carve one. It’s been ages since I bothered and it’s such a perfect fall, I want to,” I insist with a quick kiss at his tasty lips.