The elevator doors ping open, and out comes Rider and Jules followed by the other wedding guests. Liam saunters over to me, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Had fun with Lexi, did you?” I ask.
“You missed out, bro. She was wild.” He leans into me and says, “Wait, you don’t look like you’ve missed out at all.”
“What makes you say that?” I ask and shift uncomfortably. I don’t normally talk about my bedroom antics with my friends. I leave it to their own imagination,
and I’m sure most times it’s better than the truth. Except for last night. Yeah, my teammates could never envision how great it was between Kins and me.
Liam laughs. “I guess you haven’t seen all the bite marks, my friend.” He lets loose a whistle. “It must have been one hell of a night.”
I slowly turn my head, and find Kinsley staring at me wide-eyed. “Yeah, it was something.”
“Who was she?” Liam asks. “I kind of like biters.”
I take in a well-sated Kinsley, and a ridiculous stupid idea I have no right thinking races around my little pea-brain. The sex was great, we both agree to that, and we’re adults doing what adults do. Maybe, if she wants, we could indulge in a little friends with benefits action while we’re here for the wedding. What could it possibly hurt, as long as we’re on the same page and agree to no regrets when it’s over?
“Who she was is none of your business, and if she’s going to bite anyone again, it’s going to be me. No regrets. No expectations.” Her eyes grow wide as she stares at me. “If that’s what she wants.”
4
Kinsley
If that’s what she wants.
Of course, that’s what she wants! Like he even has to ask.
“Cason, what are you saying,” I mumble under my breath, not wanting anyone to hear. I know what he’s saying, of course, but I guess I need him to straight up tell me he wants us to sleep together, using short sentences and small words, because I can’t quite wrap my brain around any of this.
He gives a casual shrug. “You don’t have to answer. Just think about it.”
Okay, not the answer I was expecting but I don’t press when conversation around us shifts to all the fun activities we’ll be doing today. Too bad climbing the tallest observation tower in the USA, and hovering over the strip in a hot air balloon aren’t on my list of awesome things to do. I’m freaking terrified of heights.
Cason shifts a bit closer, and his thigh touches mine, eliciting sparks in my body, mainly around my nether region. My tongue practically rolls from my mouth cartoon style and my clit quivers. Weird, right? Here I thought that was just something people say, something a person reads about in a book, but the macarena going on between my legs proves otherwise. There’s definitely a party going on downstairs.
I had sex with Cason Callaghan.
Ohmigod, I had sex with Cason Callaghan!
But not just any run of the mill sex. No, of course not. He might be known as the Troublemaker, but he had no trouble finding and stimulating all the needy little spots on my body and leaving me blissfully sexed and sated, but at the same time…craving more.
My ex could never find any of my erogenous zones, even with the use of a guided map and instructions from me. I think he might have even asked Siri once. I naturally assumed last night’s sex was good because it was a dream—everything my fantasies are made of—but this guy was better than any dream I’ve ever had.
Is he really suggesting we do it again?
Yeah, he is. I might not be his type, and this isn’t about happily-ever-after or getting into a relationship, but a little fling while we’re here? Now that sounds like a most awesome idea. He’s right, we’re consenting adults—friends. What could possibly go wrong?
A tortured needy sound I have no control over crawls out of my throat, and I’m about to tell him I don’t have to think about it. The answer is yes, times a million squared. Is that a thing? Math is not my forte. But before I can open my mouth, his best friend Cole and his wife Nina enter the lobby.
I let loose a little sigh as I watch them. Back in Seattle, they visit my food truck frequently, and I’ve always liked the two of them, not to mention the way they look at each other. After being married for a few years, they still act like they’re on their honeymoon. I’m a bit envious really. Men don’t look at me like that. Never have. Never will. Especially when I’m with my best friend Emily.
She’s every guy’s dream girl: tall, blonde, thin. Basically, she’s the antithesis of me, but I don’t care. I’m not looking for anything long-term. Not anymore. After my ex dumped me because I quit Harvard, because I wasn’t living up to his expectations—he didn’t like me for me—it totally turned me off relationships.
As the door hit my ass on the way out, he was kind enough to tell me how lucky I was to have him. Apparently, I wasn’t special and it’d be a cold day in hell before any man brought me home to meet their mother. You know what’s not special? A guy who wanted to marry me to get ahead in my father’s firm. I was the lucky one who dodged a bullet if anyone asked me. Still, on some level his words stung like a thousand angry hornets, and the truth is, I’m not the kind of girl guys go for, or bring home.
If I were, it would make things easier. Marriage would certainly convince my father that I’ve settled down and was ready to properly handle my large trust fund. Yeah, it’s true. Believe it or not, I’m a trust fund baby, left to me by my grandfather who I miss dearly, and the funds were supposed to be signed over when I turned twenty-five—when my life was in order. But my father is holding it, because I didn’t complete my law degree. I just couldn’t do it, though. I was accepted to Harvard law school, following in Mom, Dad, and my two older sisters’ footsteps, but I was miserable with a capital M.
Law is not my passion.