Raging Heart On (Lucas Brothers #2)(45)

CHAPTER 32


WHITE




"You okay, honey?"

"Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"You just seem awful quiet. I'm worried about you," I tell Kayla. We had a sandwich together and visited with my crazy family for a little while and now we're back in my room. I was afraid Kayla would insist on staying in her old room, but she hasn't.

"I'm just tired, White," she says with a smile. I want to believe her, but something seems off. Instead of pushing it, I just let it go. I'll figure it out eventually. Right now, I'm just really glad I have her in my arms.

"Where do you think Mom went off to in such a hurry?"

"No idea, though she mentioned needing to go to the grocery store," Kayla says, walking away to go into the bathroom.

"This late at night?" I voice my doubts, yanking my shirt over my head and throwing it on the ground. I stretch out on the bed, picking up the remote and start sifting through the channels.

"Who knows? Ida Sue is special."

"That's one way of putting it."

"Lay off your Mom. You're blessed and you know it."

"I do, doesn't mean she doesn't scare the hell out of me sometimes," I answer as Kayla comes in from the bathroom, wearing a long t-shirt that has the name of Green's baseball team on it. "Are you f*cking kidding me right now?"

Kayla rubs lotion on her hands and stops with a confused look on her face, like she doesn't know what I'm talking about. Maybe she doesn't. Maybe I am being unreasonable. But Jesus, it's like she's begging me to spank her ass.

"What are you going on about now? I swear you harp more than a fifty-year-old woman who's going through menopause."

"Umm, honey, talking like that right there, is way too much like my Mom. Try to nip that shit in the bud."

"Whatever. You, White Hall Lucas, are a whiner."

"Oh, I are, are I?"

"You are."

"Come down here and I'll show you a whiner."

"Maybe I don't want to. You might bitch about the size of my hands or something," she huffs, standing over me. I reach up and pull her until our bodies collide and she’s lying on top of me.

God. How do you go your whole life without touching someone in any sexual way—without even thinking of them like that—only to learn that your arms are empty without them? Worse, you're missing something extremely vital without them.

"I love the size of your hands. I think they're perfect," I tell her bringing her hand up to my lips and kissing it. The taste of her skin mingles with a hint of the cherry flavoring in the lotion. Kayla.

"Perfect?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Mmm… hmm… Just right to stroke my cock and squeeze it tight..."

"Pervert," she mutters, shaking her head, but she kisses my hand that's holding hers.

I slowly bring my hands down her body, once again memorizing the feel and shape of her. I move slowly, taking my time, rewarded by a small sigh of pleasure as Kayla settles against me, laying the side of her face against my chest. I don't stop until my fingers are around the edge of the shirt she's wearing. Then I slowly begin to gather the ends in my hands, distracting her by letting my thumb brush back and forth around the back of her leg, driving up to the globe of her ass.

"White!" she squeals. Once I get the shirt gathered, I waste no time in moving it up and over her body, holding her still as best as I can so we both don't end up in the floor. "What are you doing? I'm not sleeping naked in your mother's bed!"

"I wasn't planning on sleeping at all," I tell her honestly.

"I'm not having sex in your mother's bed either!"

"Honey, we're not in my mother's bed. We're in my bed. But regardless, whatever we do, we are not doing it with you wearing my brother's shirt."

"You have to be joking. It's not his shirt, you goofball. It's mine! I bought it when I went to see him play last year."

"It has his team's name, so same difference."

"You are seriously nuts."

"I have a t-shirt with my team on it in one of those drawers over there. You can wear it if you want."

"How have I known you for over fifteen years and never realized what a jealous freak you are?" she asks.

It's a damn good question. I've never been jealous in my life, not before Kayla. Hell, I thought that men who got jealous over their women were losers. I was secure enough in my manhood to know any woman I chose wouldn't stray because I could give it to her better than any other * out there. In short, I was a cocky, stupid motherf*cker. It's not about trusting your woman not to stray. It has everything to do with the fact that Kayla is mine. I want my name all over her. I want my ownership stamped on her damned body. I want her to walk down the street and men to step the f*ck back because they know she's mine and I will f*ck them up if they so much as look at her. I want her to know with every breath that I’m the lucky son of a bitch she’s coming home to. Me, and I'm not going to let her go.

Jesus. When did this happen?

I feel like an idiot thinking these thoughts. I don't know how to verbalize them with Kayla, so instead I clear my throat and give her part of it.