Angel of Redemption (54 page)

“Do you always have nightmares?” she asks
cautiously. The question is so unexpected, I have to think for a second about
what she‘s asking.

“I don’t
… Did I?”

“Not last night, but last weekend, when you were
here.”

I swallow dryly. Fuck.
“Oh,” I say flatly.
“Did I wake you up?”

“No,
” she shakes her head. “I wasn’t
sleeping. I heard you and was worried. It sounded like you were in pain. I wasn’t
sure if I should wake you up or let you get through it. When I put my hands on
you, you stopped thrashing, so I stayed. I just wanted to help.”

That explains a lot. Her voice, her touch in my
dream
—she wasn’t a figment of my imagination. It was really her. I’m
not sure how to feel about that. It’s those moments when I’m most vulnerable.

“I have them way too much. Or maybe I have them
as much as I deserve. I don’t know.”

“Are they always about the accident?”

I shrug.
“Usually, yeah, but I have
regular dreams, too.”

“Like what?”

“You wanna know what I dream about?” I ask,
lifting my eyebrows. “Other than the accident?”

Kayla nods enthusiastically. “I’ll tell you mine
if you tell me yours.
” She’s grinning at me. I have to admit, I’m
grateful for her masterful change in direction. It lightens the mood
drastically.

“You go first,” I insist.

“Okay. I, uh
…” She hesitates briefly
before continuing. “Lately, I’ve been having these dreams where I’m dancing in
a club and someone’s watching me.”

“Who’s watching you?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see him. I just feel him.
He likes to touch me.”

“Touch you how?” I growl, somewhat embarrassed by
the fact that I’m jealous of her dream seducer. Kayla’s expression is
mischievous.

“Every time he passes by me, he takes another
piece of clothing.” I narrow my eyes, waiting to hear where she’s going with
this. “Until I’m naked.”

“But you’re still on the dance floor?”

“Yep. But no one notices me.”

“I find that hard to believe,” I mumble under my
breath. “What happens once you’re naked?”

“He takes me from behind.” I scratch the back of
my neck and feel a bead of sweat.

“On the dance floor?”

“On the dance floor.”

“Wow,” I breathe.

“That’s not how it ends, though. When he finally
brings me to orgasm, I scream out and everyone turns to look at me. I’m by
myself, naked, with my hands between my legs. And that’s how I wake up.
”

I gape at her. Fuck, that’s hot. And I’m hard.

“Your turn,” she says, letting the tip of her
tongue peek out from between her teeth playfully.

“No way,” I laugh. “I’m not telling you my porno
dreams.”

Kayla sticks out her lower lip. “How come? I told
you mine.”

I push my chair back from the table and stand up.
“No.”

“Please?” Kayla whines, jumping up with me.

“No.” Wrapping her arms around me, she reaches up
on her toes and presses her lips against my jaw, kissing me softly until she
reaches my ear.

“Please?” she whispers.

“They’re all about you,” I confess because I can
’t
deny her.

“Tell me.”

“I gotta go,” I lie, changing the subject. I
’m
kidding, of course—I’m not going anywhere. Kayla’s hands are roaming all
over, pulling me closer.

“Stay here,” she purrs. “You don’t have to be
back to Wyatt House until tomorrow, right?” I take a step forward, and she
takes one back.

“What about Andy?”

“He and Sara don’t get in until tomorrow night.”
Another step.

“So you’ll be alone if I go?”

“All night and all day.” Two more steps.

“Hmmm.”

“You can sleep in the guest room again if you
want.” She shrugs as though she doesn’t care, but I
’m sure she does. I’m
sure she doesn’t want me in that guest room any more than I want to be in
there. A few more steps.

“I don’t know. What happens if I dream?”

“I can come in and comfort you. I’m a light
sleeper.”

“Maybe I should just sleep in your room to be
safe. You know, it’s all about prevention these days.”

I’ve lost count of how many steps we’ve taken,
but we’re standing at her bedroom door. Kayla giggles, wrapping her arms around
my neck and mauling my mouth. The second I clear the door, I kick it shut
behind me. I guess one more night of pretending won’t hurt anyone.

Kayla

I am so freaking
comfortable, it’s not even funny. I’m lying on my side, curled into Dean. His
heavy arm is draped around my back. Occasionally, I feel his fingers twitch,
rub my shoulder blade, and then still again. My head rises and falls
rhythmically with each of his breaths. I can hear his heart beating and feel it
pulse against my ear. I press my lips against his skin, eliciting a grunt.
Suppressing a laugh, I do it again. I’ve been at this for the last twenty
minutes, when I accidentally shifted my leg and felt his huge boner just
begging to play.

“Kayla,” he warns, his voice deep and thick with
sleep.

“Hmmm?”

When he doesn’t answer, I figure he’s fallen back
to sleep. I wait a few seconds and stick my tongue out, flicking at his nipple.

“Goddammit!” he swears, flipping me over and
underneath him so fast I lose my breath. “Are you trying to drive me crazy?”

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” I laugh.

“No, I’m not,” he grumbles, letting all of his
body weight crush me.

“Unf, Dean. Heavy.” He rolls off a little, but
not enough for me to move. He’s still really hard, too. “Dean?”

“What?”

“Are you gonna get off me?”

“Nope.”

I giggle and hook my leg over the back of his
thigh. “Are you gonna get off
on
me, then?”

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart,” Dean chuckles. I feel
his lips against my shoulder. “Haven’t you had enough?”

“Of you? No.”

He lifts his head slightly and a crooked grin
appears. “Really?”

Shifting his lower body, he begins to slide into
me.

“Oooooh, God,” I whimper, but it’s not entirely
out of pleasure. He gets all the way in and there’s an uncomfortable pressure
deep within my belly. “Okay! Okay.”

“That’s what I thought,” he groans, withdrawing. “I
could go all day, baby, but you probably need a break. I tried to touch you a
few hours ago, and you told me it hurt.
”

“I don’t remember that.” I grumble, sticking out
my lower lip. I’m disappointed that I can’t just go and go and go. He rolls
over onto his back, his arms above his head. The sheet is tented at his crotch.
“But you’re…” I reach down, touching his erection.

Dean hisses, forcing his hips upward into my
hand. I tighten my grip and begin stroking him aggressively. As my hand
continues to work him, I press my mouth against his side, his stomach, his
pelvis. His hand reaches down, fisting my hair. I tilt my head and slide my
tongue up the side of his cock, where my fingers can’t quite touch each other,
leaving a sliver of exposed skin. I adjust my body and suck the head into my
mouth.

Dean moans loudly and stills his hips, letting me
take control. It’s easier for me this way. I know how much I can take, and when
I’m able to prepare myself, I can relax my throat. I move faster, hollowing out
my cheeks. I can feel his dick swelling as he starts to lose it, pulsing. I
swallow each time, trying not to taste. I don’t care what anyone says, jizz
tastes disgusting no matter whose it is.

“God, you’re fucking good at that,” Dean pants.

I smile and kiss his chest, resting my ear on it
again so I can hear and feel in his heart rate exactly how I made him feel
—at
least physically. I honestly don’t know how he’s feeling emotionally. Sometimes
it seems like I’m on a rollercoaster with him—a dark rollercoaster. One
where I can’t always see the ups and downs coming. Right now he seems content.
But will that change tomorrow?

After awhile, I can’t ignore the fact that my
bladder is going to explode. Slipping out of bed, I unabashedly make my way to
the bathroom. I turn my head and see Dean watching me. He likes to watch me. I
like that he likes to watch me.

When I come back into the room, Dean is face down,
clutching my pillow and breathing heavily. Now it’s my turn to watch him. All I
want to do is crawl back into bed and feel his arms around me, but I’m wide
awake and really hungry.

I spot his T-shirt on the ground and grab it,
pulling it over my head. It comes about midway down my thighs. Good enough.

“Where are you going now?” he asks without
moving, his voice muffled, eyes still closed.

“To make some coffee.”

He grunts, I think in approval, but doesn’t move.
Grabbing a hair tie from the doorknob, I pull my hair up and then make my way
to the kitchen. I put on a pot of coffee and stare between the pantry and the
refrigerator. My stomach is growling and even though I want something fast, I
kinda want to make something substantial. Who the hell am I kidding? I want to
make Dean a nice breakfast so he’ll think about sticking around. I opt to cook.
I’m not a fantastic cook, but eggs, toast, and turkey sausage are easy.

While everything is cooking, I know the aroma
must be wafting through the house. It smells really good. I hear the toilet
flush just as I’m plating up the food and, a few minutes later, Dean’s
footsteps coming toward the kitchen.

He’s wearing his jeans and nothing else. I stare
at his bare chest. His pecs, the ridges of his abs. I get a fluttery feeling in
my stomach. You
’d think I’d never seen him shirtless before.

“What’s this?” he asks, yawning.

I lean over the table and set the plates down. “I
thought I’d make an actual breakfast this morning.”

When I stand back up, Dean’s arms slide around my
waist. His nose skims the back of my neck.

“Is that my shirt?”

“Uh,” I feel my face flush. “Yeah, sorry.”

“It looks good on you. What’s wrong with
Pop-Tarts?”

“Nothing’s wrong with Pop-Tarts,” I laugh. “I
just figured you’ve worked up an appetite.”

Dean hums, sending vibrations over my skin. I
close my eyes. I like having him this close. In some ways, it feels like he’s a
different person. His walls are down; he’s not guarding himself. His hand slips
from my waist down to my thigh and slides up between my legs. I moan and push
back into him.

“You’re not wearing any panties,” he growls. I
shake my head, feeling his finger peruse around, teasing. I’m extremely
sensitive, but he’s gentle, so it doesn’t hurt. “And you want me to eat that?”
I freeze, not knowing which
“that” he’s talking about. I feel his chest
vibrating in laughter. He knows exactly what I’m trying to figure out.

“You’re a j
-jerk,” I stutter as he slips
two fingers inside. He pumps them in and out delicately a few times, making me
squirm, and then lets go of me completely.

“You’re right, I’m hungry. Let’s eat.” He sits
down at the table, leaving me standing with my mouth gaping open. He takes a
huge bite of the eggs. Once he’s swallowed, he licks the fingers that were just
inside me.

“Fuck, Kayla. You make an excellent breakfast.”

“You’ll be lucky if I ever feed you again!” I
retort, not serious in the least.

He pulls out the chair next to him. “You really
do make a good breakfast,” he chuckles.

I smile and grab the two cups of coffee I poured
from the counter, setting one down in front of him.

“Thank you,
” he says quietly.

“My pleasure.”

You’d think that after the last two nights, the
awkwardness would be gone, but it’s not. I catch Dean looking at me twice.

“What time do you have to go back to Wyatt House?”
I ask. I don’t know what else to say.

“I should probably head over there early this afternoon,
but I need to go home first
—get cleaned up and changed.”

I nod. “Okay.” Looking up at the clock, I see it’s
already nine. “So, um
…”

I see a flash of panic in Dean’s eyes before he
looks back down at his food. I don’t know what he thinks I’m going to say, but
whatever it is, it obviously bothers him.

“At least you haven’t been called in, right? That’s
a good sign.”

He shrugs. “Guess so. I’m looking forward to
getting home, though.
” My fork stops midway to my mouth. Dean must
realize what he just said. “I mean, that’s not what I meant.” I shove my bite
into my mouth and look down. The insecurity of this new “relationship” is
making me nervous. Dean’s hand covers mine and squeezes. “That’s not what I
meant.”

“Okay,” I respond quietly. I know Dean must feel
as uncertain about all of this as I do.

He brings my hand to his mouth and places tender
kisses along the inside of my wrist.

“I worry. A lot. It seems like every time I
leave, something happens.”

“But wouldn’t they have called?”

“Maybe, but they all seem to think I need a
little distance.”

“Do you?”

“If someone tried to tell you to distance
yourself from Matty and Logan or any of your other kids, would you be able to?”

I don’t even have to think about it.
“No.”

“That’s all I meant. It doesn’t just turn off
because I’m not there.” His jade eyes are pleading with me not to be pissed
off. I’m not pissed off, but I
’m not happy either. I just wish he would
take a second to think about how the things he says might sound to a woman he’s
just slept with.

We finish eating, and Dean helps me clean up. He
keeps “accidentally” lifting up the hem of my shirt
—his
shirt—and apologizing profusely with that cheeky grin of his. I
eventually have to go put on clothes so I don’t end up tackling him to the
ground. He doesn’t have much time before he has to leave. He sulks playfully
the whole time.

After I get dressed, so does Dean. When he comes
out, he’s got his bag with him. That can only mean one thing.

“I gotta go,” he says, walking toward me.

“I know,
” I answer, disappointed that it’s
time for our little bubble to pop.

I walk him to the door and open it before looking
up at him. His hand caresses my jaw reverently. He leans in, pressing his lips
against mine. There’s no movement. No frantic, passionate tongues. Just the
gentle pressure of the man I never want to let go, but have to. It
’s
nice and comforting to be reassured that everything that has happened between
us the last two days is more than just insane lust. He takes in a deep breath
through his nose before pulling back.

“I’ll talk to you later.”

I watch him walk down the driveway and get into
his car, ignoring the pain in my chest, the ache in my heart. I don
’t
want him to go. I don’t know where we’ll be after he does. Are we dating?
Friends with benefits? Something in the way he was looking at me told me not to
ask him. I want to be cool about this—let him take the lead. I’m just not
sure my feelings for him will let me.

When his car finally disappears from sight, I
close the door. The house is completely silent.

* * *

I’m vegging on the couch
watching some ridiculous Lifetime movie when I hear a car pull into the
driveway. The door flings open, and my bestie is standing there with a huge
grin on her face.

“Hi!” I greet, standing up.

“Helloooooo!” Sara squeals, throwing her arms
around me. “Oh my God. You have to tell me about the gala! Was it fantastic? I
bet it was fantastic.”

I look over at Andy, who has just set their bags
down.

“I made the mistake of forgetting the ‘decaf’
when I ordered her a venti vanilla latte. She’s been like this for two and a
half hours. I’m pretty sure we were this close to getting thrown out of the
airplane.” He holds his fingers up so that they’re only about an inch apart. I
laugh at my brother. He looks tired, but happy.

“Whatever,” Sara scoffs. “That guy totally
thought I was funny. He laughed.”

Andy shakes his head behind her and mouths, “
No,
he didn’t
.”

“Come on, sister. We got gossiping to do,” Sara
says, dragging me away. “So, how was he?” she asks, flopping onto my bed and
sitting cross-legged like a little kid.

“It was good,” I answer with shrug. “Well, I
mean, it was interesting.”

“I didn’t ask how the gala was, Kayla.” Sara
smirks. “I asked how
he
was.”

“He?”

“Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m
asking.”

There is no way she’s going to let me get away.
She knows me too well.

“Oh my God. It’s so obvious. You might as well
have the words ‘I finally got laid by a fuck-hot man’ tattooed on your
forehead.” She frowns. “It was Dean, right?”

I don’t say anything, partly because I’m messing
with Sara and partly because the thing with Dean is all so new and I’m not sure
what to say.

“Kayla!” she shouts.

“Yes! Okay, yes, it was Dean, and yes, we had
sex. Lots and lots of sex. Happy?
”

“Yay! Now we can trade stories. Andy was so
romantic and sweet. He had champagne and strawberries delivered to the room.”

“Sara, honey,” I interrupt before she goes too
far. “I’m thrilled that you’re happy and sated and all, but I am absolutely
not
going to talk about this with you.”