think about it.”
“Okay, I admit your prepubescent self didn’t rock my little world. Hell, I just thought girls were into tea parties and ballet back then, and those were not activities I wanted anything to do with. But sometime around the end of ninth grade, I think—that’s when I started noticing you again.”
“Mmmm, I was rocking a serious set of braces in the ninth grade. And my mom refused to let me get contacts. And let’s not forget those god-awful braids I wore because I thought I was Laura Ingalls Wilder. Why in the hell wouldn’t you want to hit that?”
“You were cute. Ow—don’t pinch me. You were. Even the braids. But that wasn’t it.”
“What did it for you, then? Seriously. My huge brains? Oh yeah, little Miss Egghead, so smart even her parents were afraid of her. The epitome of every fourteen-year-old boy’s fantasy.”
“Well, if you want to know when I started thinking of you as more than some little geek girl I used to play ball with, it was the day you stood up in Dr. Caldwell’s algebra class and told him he was an idiot. Then you went to the board, took the chalk from my hand, and corrected his formula. When you finished, you went to the principal’s office before he could send you and filed a stupid-teacher complaint. That was what did it for me.”
“Oh my God, I remember that day. I was an insufferable know-it-all brat.”
“Yeah, you really were. And I never forgot it. Never. You had guts. The man humiliated me that entire year, and you stood up for me. That stays with a person.”
“That was you at the board, wasn’t it? What was it he said? Something about you waiting for divine intervention, when all the time his formula was wrong. He couldn’t teach worth a damn, and he was mean. I just got tired of listening to his drivel and snapped. My mother was so proud of me that day. That’s sarcasm, by the way. I nearly got suspended, but it was fun.”
“I was terrified of you. Most of us were. You were so smart, and quiet—we didn’t know how to interact with you. That day, you impressed me. I didn’t have the courage to stand up for myself. I wasn’t kidding downstairs when I said I used to fantasize about you. I was too afraid of you to try anything.”
“What sort of fantasies?”
“Oh, the usual teenage under-the-bleacher stuff. You wouldn’t like it if I told you.”
“Hot and sweaty, taking my cherry in the back of your daddy’s car stuff? I wasn’t kidding when I said you could have had it. I used to watch you cut the grass from the balcony outside my room. I used to fantasize about you pulling a Romeo and climbing the trellis at night. Stupid, little girl stuff, I wouldn’t have known what to do with you if you had.”
“Looking back, knowing what you know now, what would you do if I climbed into your bedroom?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Something like this, maybe.”
She licked a path to his mouth. His quickly in-drawn breath made her bold enough to crawl over him until she straddled him. He was hard and ready, and she only had to arch just a little to take him inside. “How does that feel?”
“Like we should have done this a long time ago.” He buried his hands in her hair, his strong fingers holding her captive while he took control of her mouth. Soft kisses turned heated, frenzied even. She rode him slowly, teasing him until he couldn’t take it another second, and before Kailey knew what had happened, he had her on her back, his cock buried inside her, driving into her, taking her to dizzying heights, only to plunge her back to reality.
When she could form a coherent thought again, she wrapped her arms around him, and held him close. “Trig?” she whispered in his ear.
“Yeah?” His voice was sleepy, sluggish.
“That was really nice. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
* * * *
His heart raced wildly as he watched the sex kitten amble out of the hotel, her sun-streaked hair tousled from some lucky bastard’s hands. The pale