Just for Now (Sea Breeze #4)(3)

The little licks and nibbles he was making along my collarbone made it hard for me to think too clearly about it.

Then his hips lowered and both of his hands shoved my skirt up around my waist. I didn’t have too much time to prepare myself before he was pressing against my entrance.

“Tight, f*ck, f*ck, it’s so tight,” Preston whispered, and his body trembled over me, making the sharp pain between my legs a little more bearable. “I can’t hold back, Manda. Fuck it . . . I can’t.”

Pain sliced through me, and I screamed and bucked underneath him. He was cursing while saying my name as he slid in and out of me. The pain slowly started to ease, and I felt the first tremor of pleasure.

“AHHH, holy shit,” Preston cried out, and his body jerked over me. I wasn’t sure what exactly had just happened, but from the small moans coming from him, he enjoyed it.

When he didn’t move anymore and the hard length inside of me began to go away, I realized it was over. Preston pushed himself back away from me and slowly pulled out of me as he muttered more curse words. He moved, and from what I could see, he was putting on his shirt. Already?

I sat up and pushed my skirt down. The fact that I was on display suddenly mattered. When I heard the zipper on his jeans, I quickly fastened my bra and started buttoning my shirt.

“Manda.” His voice sounded sad. “I’m sorry.”

I opened my mouth to ask him what for, because what we’d just done I’d completely asked for, when he opened the door and walked off into the darkness.





Chapter One


Three months later . . .

Preston



The bottom step was rotten. I needed to put fixing that on my priority list. One of the kids was going to run down them and end up with a twisted ankle—or worse, a broken leg—if I ignored it. Stepping over it, I walked the rest of the way up the steps to my mother’s trailer.

It had been a week since I’d stopped by and checked on things. Mom’s latest boyfriend had been drunk, and I’d ended up taking a swing at him when he’d called my seven-year-old sister, Daisy, a chickenshit for spilling her glass of orange juice. I’d busted his lip. Mom had screamed at me and told me to get out. I figured a week was enough time for her to get over it.

The screen door swung open, and a big gap-toothed smile greeted me.

“Preston’s here!” Brent, my eight-year-old brother, called out before wrapping his arms around my legs.

“Hey, bud, what’s up?” I asked, unable to return the hug. My arms were full of groceries for the week.

“He brought food,” Jimmy, my eleven-year-old brother, announced, and stepped outside and reached for one of the bags I was carrying.

“I got these. There’s more in the Jeep. Go get ’em, but watch that bottom step. It’s about to go. I gotta fix it.”

Jimmy nodded and hurried off toward the Jeep.

“Did you get me dose Fwooty Pebbles I wyke?” Daisy asked as I stepped into the living room. Daisy was developmentally delayed in her speech. I blamed my mother’s lack of caring.

“Yep, Daisy May, I got you two boxes,” I assured her, and walked across the worn, faded blue carpet to set the bags down on the kitchen counter. The place reeked of cigarette smoke and nasty.

“Momma?” I called out. I knew she was here. The old beat-up Chevelle she drove was in the yard. I wasn’t going to let her avoid me. The rent was due. I needed any other bills that may have come in the mail.

“She’s sweepin’,” Daisy said in a whisper.

I couldn’t keep the scowl off my face. She was always sleeping. If she wasn’t sleeping, she was off drinking.

“The dickhead left her yesterday. She’s been holed up pouting ever since,” Jimmy said as he put the other groceries down beside mine.

Good riddance. The man was a mooch. If it wasn’t for the kids, I’d never show up at this place. But my mom had full custody because in Alabama as long as you have a roof and you aren’t abusing your kids, then you get to keep them. It’s some f*cked-up shit.

“You bought free gaddons of milk?” Daisy asked in awe as I pulled out all three gallons of milk from a paper bag.

“’Course I did. How are you gonna eat two boxes of Fruity Pebbles if you don’t have any milk?” I asked, bending down to look her in the eyes.

“Pweston, I don’t think I can dwink all free,” she said in another whisper. Dang, she was cute.

I ruffled her brown curls and stood up. “Well, I guess you’ll have to share with the boys, then.”

Daisy nodded seriously like she agreed that was a good idea.

“You bought pizza rolls! YES! Score,” Jimmy cheered as he pulled out the large box of his favorite food and ran to the freezer with it.

Seeing them get excited over food made everything else okay. I’d gone weeks with nothing but white bread and water when I was their age. Momma hadn’t cared if I ate or not. If it hadn’t been for my best friend, Marcus Hardy, sharing his lunch with me every day at school, I’d have probably died from malnutrition. I wasn’t about to let that happen to the kids.

“I thought I told you to get out. You caused enough trouble ’round here. You run off Randy. He’s gone. Can’t blame him after you broke his nose for nothin’.” Momma was awake.