Make Me Fall: Bayshore #2 Page 10

  Connor’s parents’ house is about a block and a half away. As we curve down the road, pointing out interesting flowers and lawn decorations to each other, a shout stops us.

  “Connor Daly! Get your ass over here!”

  A guy our age is waving at us from inside an open two-car garage. People are milling around inside, and I realize we’re staring at Adam Schmidt from high school.

  “Adam! Get the hell out.” Connor heads toward his old friend, and the two give each other a bro-hug. I do a quick scan of the scene, and there aren’t too many other faces I recognize. I smile politely as Connor and Adam exchange pleasantries. Connor gestures toward me.

  “You remember Kinsley, right? Kinsley Cabana.”

  “Hey, Adam.” I wave.

  “Yeah, of course. Man, what a reunion. You two want a beer?” Adam ushers us into the garage, where it’s a whole spread of summertime fun. Cornhole boards are stacked off to the side, right beside the wall of life jackets and pool toys. In the middle of the garage, two big tables are set up: one for beer pong, where a blonde girl is laying out the cups, and another one for ping-pong.

  “Yeah, I’ll take one.” Connor points at me. “You too, babe?”

  Stars explode in my eyes. He called me babe in public. We don’t have to convince these people, but we are anyway. “Uh, yeah. Sounds great.”

  Adam grabs two beers from a nearby cooler and launches into conversation. He’s here for the summer, on break from the school in Indiana where he teaches. He’s been doing that the past few years—working all year in Indiana, spending two solid months in Bayshore. Everyone around us agrees it’s the life.

  I sip nervously at my beer, wondering who I might be able to strike up a conversation with. I need to prove to Connor, and myself, that I am not a lame addition here. I want to be someone that can confidently attend a party. Someone that others are excited to see. Someone that Connor might be happy to show off.

  Connor will never be showing you off. You seriously need to stop thinking like this.

  While Connor and Adam catch up, I smile and nod and accidentally down my whole beer. Once I toss it, Adam blinks at me.

  “Let me get you another.”

  “Damn, girl,” Connor says, nudging me.

  “Just thirsty, I guess.” I laugh weakly, but the little buzz from the RumChata and the beer is helpful. I feel a little looser. I feel like I can do this.

  Adam comes back with another beer. “Thanks, man,” I say, cracking it open. “Appreciate it.” Adam and Connor start chatting again, and I find my mark. The brunette nearby with a crop top and an eyebrow ring. I drift her way, waving.

  “Hey, there. I’m Kinsley. What’s your name?”

  She tips her head to the side, like maybe I’m speaking a foreign language. “Winnie?”

  “No, Kinsley. With a K.”

  “But I’m Winnie.”

  “Oh.” I slap my forehead. “Right. Winnie. Nice to meet you.” This is not going well so far. I feel like it’s been three years since I last willingly put myself in a social situation with strangers that weren’t the coffee shop baristas near my workplace. “So…do you have a dog?”

  Holy hell. That’s my only conversation starter? Do you have a dog? I’m melting from exasperation on the inside while she snickers.

  “No. Just a parrot.”

  “A freaking parrot? Really?” This is genuinely amazing. “Can I see a picture of it?”

  Winnie reaches for her phone while I stew about how awkward I am. Beer doesn’t help—nothing helps. I glance back at Connor, and we lock eyes across the garage. Somehow, the brief connection is bolstering. After Winnie shows me her parrot, we launch into a real conversation. She just graduated from college and has no idea what to do next. She got a business degree—same as me—but feels so uninspired by the options out there.

  We fall face forward into what can only be called a gabfest. My second beer goes untouched as we moan and groan about the annoying aspects of career fairs and how silly the mock interviews tend to be. She wants to move out west but doesn’t know where. I tell her Connor and I can help, and then he and Adam eventually join the conversation.

  Time melts away. Some of the other people at Adam’s house flit in and out. Behind us, someone begins a ping-pong match.

  “Oooh,” I say, watching as two young guys bat the ball back and forth. “I love ping-pong.”

  “You want next?” one of them asks me.

  “Mm hmm.” I set down my now-warm beer, mesmerized by the back and forth. Nobody knows it yet, but ping-pong is my thing. I endure their match until one of them hands over a paddle.

  And then the beat-down begins. I don’t know why, but God blessed me with mad ping-pong skills. It could have been physical beauty, conversational grace, or unabashed style sense, but no. It’s ping-pong skills.

  But I work with what I’ve got. And I absolutely destroy the gangly guy in front of me named Derek or Wilber or whatever; I was too busy focusing on my game to catch his name. Everyone at the party gathers around to watch. I punctuate each point with a karate chop on the table. In times like these, slightly buzzed and feeling mildly successful, I wonder if I could make a career out of ping-pong.

  Someone takes video, and I’m pretty sure there’s at least one potential meme somewhere in the photos that Connor got of me. But finally, after over an hour of drinking and cheering and ponging, Connor wraps an arm around my waist and his hot breath appears at my ear.

  “Kins, let’s go.”

  I drop my paddle without a second thought.

  Chapter 16

  CONNOR

  Mom and Grayson are in the backyard when we get back to the house, but we don’t stop to say hi. We don’t stop for anything. I lead Kinsley up the staircase, her hand clamped in mine lest she go off to make a new best friend or wow the world with her ping-pong skills again.

  Don’t get me wrong. Both are very good qualities for a girl to have.

  I just need her in our bedroom, now.

  The door clicks shut behind us. I turn on the lamp beside the bed, and she watches me with doe eyes. There’s something so innocent about her. Like she’s never done this before, even though she has. And as always, her gaze only meets mine for a moment before it falls elsewhere. I can’t get enough of that periwinkle. She’s gnawing on her lip, waiting for me to make a move.

  “Okay. Let’s see them.” I jerk my chin toward the bed. “Granny panty collection.”

  She laughs, dropping her big purse on the bed. “Seriously?”

  She has no idea how serious I am. It’s like she doesn’t know how hot she is. “Lay ’em out.”

  She rolls her lips inward while she digs around in her purse. Personally, I would have loved to go shopping for these panties with her, but maybe that’s for the future. The bag crinkles as she tugs out seven pairs of new panties. She sets her purse on the floor and then lays them out side by side. Fuchsia, pitch black, sky blue, yellow stars on red, and more. She sends me a coy look.

  “These.” I snag the fuchsia pair, then push all the rest off the bed. “Let’s see these.”

  She’s nibbling on her lip again. “You really…?”

  I nod, and she heads for the bathroom.

  “Where are you going?” I call out before she shuts the door.

  “To put these on.”

  “Kins.” I laugh at the innocence of it. “You don’t want to change out here?”

  “I mean…”

  My cock twitches while urgency pumps through me. I want her on top of me already. I want her unraveling in my arms. “Come in here and take your clothes off.”

  Understanding flashes in her eyes. She cocks a smirk and heads my way again.

  “You want a strip tease.” She pulls down the shoulder of her loose shirt. I nod, letting the grin on my face say it all. “Even though this will be the worst strip tease in all of history?” she asks, and then tugs off her shirt in one swift movement.

  Her small breasts are encased i
n a black satin bra. I’m fully hard thinking about putting my lips around one of those pink nipples.

  “It’s going pretty well so far,” I say, adjusting my junk so the waistband of my pants doesn’t sever my dick. Her gaze drops to my crotch, and a smile curls her lips.

  Kinsley unbuttons her striped shorts and pushes them to the ground. She’s wearing black boy short underwear, which she also pushes down a moment later. I grit my teeth as my gaze falls over the tight patch of hair covering her pussy. I want to run a finger over those lips, followed by my tongue, followed by my cock. One morning with her, and I love her pussy, I know this already.

  I suck at my bottom lip as she reaches for the fuchsia panties.

  “Take your bra off,” I say, my voice a little husky.

  “You take your shorts off,” she counters.

  Fair enough. I fumble with the drawstring and push them down over my bulging briefs. Once they’re discarded on the floor, she unhooks her bra. It crumples to the ground, exposing her pert breasts and those rosy pebbles that I’m already desperate to bite.

  Kinsley is long lines and slight curves. She’s like a fancy exclamation point. I would tell her this if I wasn’t so turned on right now and could form words.

  Her gaze finds mine, pure heat and vulnerability there. “Take your shirt off.”

  I tear it off in record time, tossing it to join my shorts on the floor. She steps into the fuchsia panties, and they rise up just below her tanned hipbone. Beautiful.

  Now they need to come off.

  “Come here.”

  She steps forward, and I snag her as soon as she gets close. Her skin is silky warmth against mine as she falls forward. We tumble backwards onto the bed, her breasts smashed against my chest. We laugh, but then the kissing begins. Urgent kisses laced with tenderness. Not like this morning, which was exploratory eroticism in a dreamworld. Now, we’re alert. Now, we know what awaits us.

  She moans through a kiss, and I push my palms along the line of her thigh, up and over the swell of her ass cheeks. She tastes like vanilla and beer, a heady combination that makes my cock ache. I don’t just want her. I need her.

  I massage her perfect little ass cheeks, my fingertips dipping beneath the fabric of her new panties. She inhales sharply. I urge her legs open, and she sits on top of me, my trapped cock tenting my briefs between us.

  “Do you like them?” she asks.

  “You tell me.” I thrust my hips, showing off how much I’m a fan.

  She giggles. “They’re basic cotton underwear. Because I’m a basic cotton girl.”

  “Pff.” I cup her breasts, running my thumbs over the tight points of her nipples. A shiver wracks her body and her eyes go hooded. “How do you want it, Kins?”

  “Want what?” she asks, her voice a million miles away.

  “When I fuck you.”

  Her eyes snap open, round and shocked. God, her innocence is cute. And I’m not even talking dirty.

  “Whatever…I don’t know…you tell me.”

  I tut, shaking my head. I thrust my hips again, generating some friction between our groins as her fuchsia-covered pussy rubs up against my black-tented cock. “You pick.”

  She gulps, her gaze falling over my shoulders, then down the flat expanse of my abs. She seems hesitant to speak. Like maybe she’s never been asked this before.

  “In the shower?” she squeaks.

  Fine by me. I swipe my thumb over each nipple again, enjoying the way her head tips back and her expression melts into pure pleasure. I move my hands to her hips next, rubbing my fingertips back and forth over the crotch of her panties. A teasing move, one that makes her breath hitch.

  “Your wish is my command.” I almost call her babe again, but I stop myself. It always slips out—it’s way too easy with her. I sit up, urging her to stand before I rummage in the nightstand for my only spare condom. I could hit up Mav for more, but really, I should go buy a huge pack for myself. We’ve still got a week and a half left, and I don’t see this slowing down.

  She scampers into the bathroom, and the water flips on. I follow behind her like a sex-seeking zombie. There’s a stand-up shower in there, snug but adequate. It’ll do, at least. She pushes her panties down and steps out of them, testing the water with her hand before she slips under the stream. Her hair is still in a loose braid behind her, but she’s taken the hair tie off again. Anticipation thrills through me. My fingers twitch with the urge to expedite her hair reveal. It’s just hair—I’ve never cared so much about any ex’s tresses before. But with Kinsley, it’s different. Like her hair is a secret she keeps, knotted up, reserved for a very select few.

  I step out of my briefs, fisting myself as my gaze scorches over her lithe, naked frame, already dripping wet in the shower. I wet my bottom lip, tearing open the condom package before I get lost in there. Her gaze sizzles on me as I roll it over my cock.

  Inside the shower, I cup her face in my hands, and we kiss, over and over again, under the stream of water. The taste of her gets diluted; our lips slip and our bodies slide against each other. And then I push her back against the wall. Hair has stuck to the side of her face as I kiss my way over her jawline and down her neck. I hoist her thigh up to my hip, my cock already seeking the one place it knows best.

  Kinsley wraps her arms around my neck, arching toward me. I bury myself in the sweet hollow of her neck before I hoist her against the wall. Effortlessly, like she’s a bird and her bones are hollow. A quirky bird. Another nickname for Sunny-kins. And the thought sounds like something she would say, which is even more amusing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  I didn’t realize I was laughing. I meet her gaze guiltily. “Nothing.”

  “You were snickering.”

  “I was just thinking about how you’re so light.” I press my abs against her belly. My cock strains to find the warm core of her. “Like your bones are hollow.”

  She laughs. “If they were, you bet your ass I’d be putting that on my resume.”

  We kiss through laughter, and then I’m easing myself inside her so slowly, our laughs turn into groans. She is stretching velvet around me. Even after our marathon morning, her pussy is a slick vice, and my whole body goes tense from the sensations.

  “Ohhh, my God,” she whispers into my ear. I’m still easing myself in, inch by groaning inch. Finally, I’ve buried myself to the hilt. Her thighs are rock hard around me, heels digging into my ass. I flex once and she moans.

  “Fuck.” I drag my teeth along her jawline for a moment. Like a way to pace myself and get my bearings. “You feel so good, Kinsley.”

  “I know. I know. I knooow.” She arches against me, the water skimming the tops of her breasts. Jesus, she looks so sexy right now. Water trickling down over her rib cage, blonde hair plastered to her chin. My biceps are bulging from the way I’m holding her, her ass in my hands so I can control the slow, measured pace I’m inflicting on both of us. It’s a torturous version of paradise.

  I rock against her once, then again. Each time I push into her, her belly caves in and her pussy clamps down around me. This girl is working with me, that’s for sure. But she’s a little too good at what she does. I might have come hours ago, but my entire body is vibrating, tense and eager to dive into another orgasm. I dip my head down and take one of Kinsley’s nipples between my teeth, laving my tongue against the pebbled tip. She moans and bucks against me.

  “Be careful,” she hisses.

  “Of what?”

  “Of making me cooome.” She arches again, eyes pinched shut.

  “Isn’t that the point?” I smile as I move my tongue to the other breast.

  “Yes, but”—a breath huffs out of her—“not this fast.”

  So she wants this to last as much as I do. And maybe we’ll get there, someday, but not today. I know because she’s already digging her nails into the tops of my shoulders. I know because she’s started doing that cute whimper noise, the one caught halfway between having a bad d
ream and the best orgasm of your life.

  I ease back into her again, faster this time. She groans low.

  Fuck it. We’re not gonna last much longer; let’s go for the gold.

  “Look at me.”

  She whimpers again, peering at me through hazy slits.

  “I’m gonna go hard.” I warn her because she’s slight and I’m big. But she’s going to lap this up like fucking honey. “And you’re going to come even harder.”

  A smile ghosts her lips, and she nods. I brush my lips against hers.

  “Ready?”

  “Do me.”

  I laugh, but it fades quickly. I squeeze her apple ass cheeks and steel myself. I push into her again, iron into velvet, tension giving way to passion. I fuck her—hard—but not like a maniac. Like a measured pro, a man who wants her to enjoy this every bit as much as I do.

  But there’s power here. A lot of it. Our bodies are colliding in a rhythm that transcends melody. This is fucking perfection. We’re banging against the shower wall, a noise I register distantly but can’t care about. She’s too warm, too soft, too tight to give a damn about anything else.

  I hoist her again, and my cock angles deeper inside of her. Then suddenly she’s crying out, absolutely screaming and clawing at the tiled wall, and her pussy turns into a vice. She pulls me over the edge with her, and I slip into the abyss right after her, freefalling and fluid, the heat pumping so fast through my veins that I think I go legally blind for a second.

  I fuck her until I can’t anymore, until the condom is full and my dick starts to go soft. She’s whimpering and writhing and moaning my name. I ease out of her, but I don’t put her down.

  Instead, I press a kiss to her forehead.

  And then another.

  Finally, our eyes lock.

  And this time, she lets me look into that periwinkle paradise for as long as I like.

  Chapter 17

  KINSLEY

  Thirteen years have gone by in the domestic bliss bubble that we’ve created in Connor’s parents’ house. Okay, okay—maybe it’s more like thirty-six hours. But damn, it feels so much longer.