Seventeen
Kenzie
He was driving me insane. The little touches. The flirty comments. It was like he was trying to torture me. We spent the morning together skirting around each other in his apartment, making breakfast and coffee. He moved, I moved, perfectly synchronised.
“You really need to buy yourself some furniture,” I said as we sat across from each other on the sofa and ate our pancakes.
“Never really thought about it. Got used to not needing a lot in prison, and I guess it just carried over to life on the outside too.”
“Well, if I’m going to be spending time here, I want a coffee table, and maybe pictures, lamps, even a dining table.”
“You plan on spending a lot of time here?” he asked, and I screwed my nose up, not wanting to give anything away.
“We’ll see.” I snapped my fingers. “You know what else you need?”
“What?
“A bed. Instead of a foldout sofa.”
I suppressed a laugh when his face registered shock before he quickly covered it with a calm and uninterested expression. We’d slept the entire night on the sofa without folding it out. It didn’t leave much room for two people, but I certainly wasn’t complaining, not when I had his body pressed against mine and his warm breath on my neck all night long.
“I like my sofa.” He frowned. I liked his sofa too.
“But a bed would be so much more comfortable. Sturdy. Durable. And quiet. It wouldn’t creak with every single movement.”
Jeremy gulped and cleared his throat. “I don’t move much when I sleep.”
“Well, you never know, you might be particularly restless one night and move a lot. Wouldn’t want to keep the neighbours awake.”
Jeremy pinched his lips between his fingers and studied me carefully, trying to gauge how serious I was.
“I’m very restless at night. Sometimes I’m up and down all night. Sometimes I don’t sleep, and the last thing I’d want is a creaky bed. Finished?” I asked and held out my hand to grab his plate.
“Huh?” He licked his lips and shook his head as though to clear it. “Ah, yeah.”
I took the dishes into the kitchen and placed them in the sink to rinse under the hot tap.
“You know, a bed is overrated, anyway,” Jeremy said, coming to stand behind me. His still naked chest was pressed against my back, and I could feel every bump and crevice of his abs, every breath he took. Was it hot in here?
I filled a glass with water and took a large gulp before setting it on the counter, and still Jeremy hadn’t moved.
He continued. “The floor, on the other hand, is almost silent. And with a mattress, it wouldn’t matter how restless you were. No one would hear, but you’d still be comfortable.” He spoke in my ear, sending shivers up and down my spine.
I turned until we were chest to chest, watching the sharp intake of his breath and seeing his eyes darken as I hoisted myself up onto the counter. “Or the kitchen. If you can’t sleep and are really restless, I find the kitchen works well.”
We were absolutely not talking about sleeping issues.
His fingers dug into the tops of my thighs, almost to the point it was painful. His nails would no doubt leave tiny crescent marks in my skin, and I was okay with that. I hooked my ankles around the backs of his legs and pulled him into me, breathing him in. His fingers slid up my legs and over my hips, skimming my sides until he pinched my chin between his thumb and forefinger.
My eyes fluttered closed, and I leaned into him, closing the distance until he captured my mouth with his. Tugging my bottom lip between his teeth, his hands weaved through my hair, pulling it until my head tilted back, and I arched into him so he could deepen the kiss. Our tongues danced together, exploring, sliding, moving with one another.
I moaned.
He groaned.
I arched.
He curved.
We fit together perfectly.
He was hot, intense, his mouth needy, his fingers demanding. I was on fire, my skin blazed where ever he touched, and my legs were like liquid. Thank god for the counter supporting me or I’d have melted into a puddle at his feet. I couldn’t get enough.
Jeremy Donovan was everything I didn’t know I needed or wanted. And I’d be damned if I let him slip through my fingers.
“Babe,” he hissed between deep breaths, his forehead pressed into the crook of my neck. I threaded my fingers into his inky black hair and tilted my head to the side. “I’m trying to stop, and you’re making it impossible.”
“You mean hard.” I could feel him everywhere. My entire body was pressed up against his strong, lithe, and very hard one.
Jeremy groaned at my little sexual innuendo. I smiled. Just keeping it real. Digging his fingers into my back, he pushed his hips forward into mine. My eyes rolled, and a gasp escaped my lips before he pushed away and backed into the island bench behind him, leaving at least two feet of space between us.
“Seriously?” I breathed and ran a hand over my hair. I knew it would resemble bird’s nest, but I couldn’t find it in me to care right then. He was leaving me hanging.
Jeremy narrowed his gaze on me, his chest rising and falling with deep, rapid breaths. I did that to him. “Nobody wants to get you out of those pants more than me, but not now, not in my kitchen.”
“So, what, you’re just going to leave me with blue balls?” I arched an eyebrow and slid off the counter, taking two steps until we were chest to chest.
Jeremy tipped his head back and laughed, so I took the opportunity to do the one thing I’d been dreaming about doing since I first walked in here and discovered he was my neighbour. Honestly, since I first saw him at the diner when he came to see Harper would probably be more accurate. I dragged my tongue up along the column of his throat, smiling when his body jerked in response and his hands balled into fists.
“They’re no bluer than mine,” he said, grasping the tops of my forearms and turning me away. “Now go and get that ass in the shower so we can leave.”
“I’m going to need a cold shower,” I mumbled quietly to myself as I walked out of the kitchen.
In a complete act of bravery, I stripped my tank over my head and dropped it on the kitchen floor. Jeremy cursed, and I could imagine him running both hands over his face in frustration. His soft footsteps told me he’d followed me out of the kitchen, and so I did what any other woman in my position would do. I stripped off my bra and lifted it dramatically in the air and let it fall from my fingers.
I didn’t know when I became so brazen, but I was pretty sure it was the moment that man called me babe. I talked the talk, but never walked the walk. I was sarcastic and said whatever came to mind, but I was also incredibly nervous and insecure. A crazy ex-boyfriend and becoming the talk of the town and having a child at sixteen would do that to person. But Jeremy instilled a confidence in me that I didn’t know I was capable of. He made me want to be strong, capable. He made me feel wanted and sexy. Desired enough to shed my inhibitions. He drove me wild to the point I was ready to combust, and I knew when the time came, one touch, one whisper of his lips on my skin would end it all.
Chuckling to myself, I walked into the bathroom and ran the shower—slightly colder than comfortable, because my skin was still overheated from Jeremy being so close. Wrapping the towel around myself, I stepped out of the shower and realised I’d left my bag in one of the empty bedrooms. I clutched the towel to my chest and darted across the hall into the sparse room, calling out to Jeremy that the shower was free.
The moment I closed the door behind me, I began searching through my clothes for something to wear. I settled for my standard skinny black jeans with holes in the knees—funnily enough, I stole them from Ryder a few years ago, and they were my favourite pair—Stones t-shirt, and my leather boots.
By the time I had dressed, towel dried my hair, and applied some product to my curls, I heard the shower shut off in the bathroom, indicating Jeremy had finished. I collected my leather jacket and bag from the floor and walked out of the room, only to come face to face with Jeremy’s very wet torso.
Dammit.
I covered my eyes with one hand and cursed as I stumbled down the hall to put some distance between us before the effects of the cold shower wore off and I’d need another one. Jeremy’s laughter echoed through the apartment. Needing to keep busy and stop my perverted self from peeking through his open door to watch him change, I started washing our breakfast dishes and fixing the sofa bed.
I had just about worn a hole in the living room carpet when he reappeared looking like freaking Adonis. Tight black t-shirt and light wash jeans, black motorcycle boots, and a megawatt smile aimed directly at me.
“Ready?” he asked, walking over and wrapping his arms behind my back. He dropped a kiss on the base of my throat and slid his hand down to mine and pulled me out of his apartment.
I wasn’t ready at all. I was kicking myself. I should have invited him into the shower with me or stripped naked and lain on his sofa. Hell, I should have fallen down the stairs and twisted my ankle. Anything to not leave the apartment. I wasn’t ready to hear the police tell me that even though Chace was in my apartment, there was nothing they could do because he had a key or whatever other excuse they could come up with.
I was terrified the recording on my phone wouldn’t be enough and I’d have to go home to an apartment that would never be safe for me to bring my son home. I was dreading the moment I had to look for a new place to live because my dumbass ex just didn’t get the hint, even when it was shoved down his throat with a studded stiletto heel.
Sensing my nerves, Jeremy reached across the console of his car and placed his hand on my knee, rubbing gentle circles, calming me down with just a touch. My thoughts ran away from me, and I imagined what he’d be capable of doing to my body, my mind, my soul with those hands when he really wanted to.
We pulled into the police station, and he practically had to drag me from the car and push me through the front door.
“Kenzie,” the officer behind the back smiled condescendingly, “you’re back.”
I had been there so often recently, trying to get them to do something about Chace, I was practically on first name basis with the entire Blackhill P.D. I opened my mouth to speak, but Jeremy took over, and I was grateful because my tongue seemed to be caught in my throat.
“We want a restraining order.” Jeremy folded his arms across his chest. He was all bulging biceps, clenched jaw, and man. Raw. Determined. Strong. A lesser man would have cowered in his presence. Instead, Officer Ramirez rolled his freaking eyes.
“Like we’ve told you,” he said, looking at me and ignoring Jeremy completely, “we can’t do anything without evidence of a crime.”
“How does breaking into my home sound?” I slammed my phone onto the counter in front of him.
“Breaking in?”
“Yes. He stole the master key to the apartment building from the maintenance manager and let himself into my apartment. He was waiting for me in the dark when I got home last night.”
“And you’ve evidence to prove this?”
It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Would I be here if I didn’t?” I unlocked my phone and brought up the recording and pressed play.
Ramirez listened carefully. I couldn’t read anything from his expression, so I didn’t know whether I had a chance or not.
With a sigh, he slid a piece of paper over to me and said, “Fill this in, and someone will be in touch.”
And that was it.
I went to the freaking cops, and they rolled their eyes, like they had so much other important shit to do, and I was wasting their time.
I snatched a pen from the counter and hurriedly filled in the paperwork before shoving it back at Ramirez and storming out the door with Jeremy chasing after me.
“Relax, babe.” He pulled me into his arms and held me tight. “It’s a start. They can’t ignore it now.”
“I just wish it was over already.”
“I know. And it will be. Soon.” He kissed the top of my head and led me back to the car. I just hoped he was right. I didn’t want to live in fear forever.
“Now where?” I asked once we were back on the road.
“Is there a hardware store?” He picked up my hand in his and rested it on his thigh.
“Yeah, over on Main Street.”
“Then that’s where we’re going next.” Jeremy nodded.
The hardware store was closed. Of course. It was a Sunday in Blackhill, so it should have been expected.
Jeremy wasn’t impressed. “Is there anywhere else that would sell locks for your door in this town?”
“I don’t think so.” I frowned. “So, what now?”
Jeremy rubbed his forehead before lifting his gaze to meet mine. “Lunch?”
“I could eat,” I agreed.