Bait: The Wake Series, Book One(15)

“Sure. Keep it.”

“You don't want yours?” She looked a little disappointed at the fact that I was going to leave it behind. Somehow that morning, two fifty-five cent coffee mugs from the resale shop down the street had become landmarks. Mementos.

I didn’t think of myself as sentimental, by nature, but seeing how attached she grew to those inanimate objects made me consider them special, too.

Maybe it was her. She was awesomely different. Original.

And, thank God, she didn't shop like other women I knew. Certainly not like the women in my life. She walked into a store, looked, touched, and bought. Very decisive. When I thought we were going back to her hotel, she stopped us in front of a shop called The Flower. From the window I could tell it was a bra and underwear place.

“Casey? I need to buy some private things. Thanks for walking me around this morning, but I think I've got it from here.” Her nose was again pink. She was being bashful.

“Right. Right. Right. I get it. Are you sure you don't want a man's opinion? I have an eye for these kinds of things.” I smiled, but I didn't feel like smiling at all. I hadn’t even thought of leaving her. I wanted to spend the whole day talking and laughing with her. I wanted to go back up to her hotel room and have her for lunch. I guessed that was shot all to hell.

“I'll be at the graduation party tonight. Are you going to be there?” She looked hopeful, like she wanted me there.

“Does a hobby horse have a wooden dick? Yeah, I'm going. I have stuff I need to do anyway. I'll see you there.” Real smooth. I was bringing back some real zingers.

“Good. I was hoping you were still going. Besides, you said that you needed to break up with Aly, right?”

Well, wasn't that interesting?

“I do need to do that,” I said in agreement.

“I know my way around down here pretty good. I lived here. Remember? So you don't have to hang around. Besides, I need to buy a bra and underwear. I'll see you tonight.”

I have to kiss her.

That fast, the thought sprung to mind. I needed to kiss her. Mark her lips. Leave a taste of me on them to remind her. Not giving it any more thought, I closed the space between us. She didn't flinch or move, so I continued. I cupped her pretty face in my hands and rubbed my thumbs across her soft lips. Her tongue snaked out to lick where I'd touched and that's when I moved in, catching her tongue mid-swipe. She still tasted sweet from the coffee.

She wasn't going anywhere until I let her go, so I had an advantage. One I thought I'd make good use of.

It was when she dropped her bags and wrapped her arms around me, deepening the kiss, that all hope was lost. There on the sidewalk, outside of a ladies’ under-thingy store, our first sober kiss pulled something tight inside my chest. I swallowed the taste of her in my mouth and I moaned.

There I was trying to make a mark on her, and she's successfully turned it around on me.

I really needed to break up with what's her name.



“You didn't do anything wrong. I think that we'd be better friends.” That part always sucked. I didn't enjoy making girls sad. I heard Aly sniff on the other end of the line. “Are you okay? I'm sorry, Aly.”

“I'm fine. I just wish I knew what I did wrong.” She blew her nose. She was a sweet girl. There wasn't a damn thing wrong with her, but she was a yes girl. It's hard to explain. I wasn't looking for a girl who yelled at me constantly, or even bitched about everything. Call me crazy. Call me a masochist, but I liked a girl who had a backbone, a girl with a fire inside her. A spark. A fuse. A girl who had an opinion and wasn't afraid to give it.

Aly was sweet, yes. But she liked me more than I liked her. She agreed with me all the time. I'd even spouted off things that a sane person would dispute in a heartbeat and she would go right along with whatever it was I'd said.

I knew it was a terrible idea dating my boss’s daughter. I really did. But what Aly had working for her had been her innocence. She wasn't a virgin, but she could play one on TV. I didn't know if that was really her, or the version of her she wanted me to see, but she gave off this vibe of purity that was appealing. She wasn't wild or aggressive, but she most certainly was willing.

But like her personality, her sexuality lacked an identity. She quickly learned what I liked and simply repeated that. That's a problem a lot of women have.

Sure, I loved that thing you did with your tits and my cock the first time, but every time? No, thank you. I liked it the first time because it was new, refreshing, a surprise. It's like opening up the same birthday gift every year when women find that special something and keep doing it. It became like a routine. And if there's one thing I didn't like, it was a routine.