Craving Kara (The Aces' Sons 7)

“I always kind of wondered,” I said, kissing the top of her head. “You know, if after it all went down back then whether you were with me because you felt guilty or—” My words broke off with a yelp when she pinched my belly hard.

“I wasn’t with you because I felt guilty,” she said incredulously. “Why would you even think that?”

“Because you were moonin’ after Curt,” I said defensively. “And then that just kind of vanished and me and you started hangin’ out.”

Kara sat up and for a second, I was distracted by the way her tits swayed.

She snapped her fingers in front of my face to get my attention.

“It was never guilt,” she said seriously. “But I can’t say that it didn’t change things.”

I just looked at her.

“It was so many things,” she said with a small smile. “It was the way you stood up for me and the way you were unapologetic about that.”

I let out a huff of air.

“It was the way you looked at me—”

“I always looked at you.”

“I finally saw you looking,” she said softly, running her fingers lightly down my cheek. “And it was the way you always made sure that I was okay. The way you reassured me even though I knew you were scared. You seemed to know me better than anyone else and I could be fully myself with you. Even when I was in a bad mood or upset. It wasn’t guilt, baby. Never that.” She leaned down and kissed me. “It was like after all the time we spent together, I looked at you and suddenly thought oh, there he is.”

“I had that same moment,” I said, reaching up to push her hair back from her face. “Oh, there she is.”

“You did?”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “But I was fifteen years old and you were wearing a little purple bikini.”

“I thought you were being serious,” she said with a laugh, her eyes lighting up.

“I am serious,” I replied. “That bikini almost fuckin’ killed me.”

Kara rolled her eyes as she sat back up. “I was never with you because I felt guilty, like you deserved to get your mack on because you’d beaten up my bully.”

“Get my mack on?” I sputtered, trying not to laugh. Kara ignored me.

“The guilt was there, it’s still there,” she said. “But I was with you then and I’m with you now for a lot of reasons that have nothing to do with guilt. Like the way your ass looks in a pair of jeans. The way you laugh and it changes your entire face.” She threw up her hands in frustration. “The way you look like a damn romance hero all dark and broody but your great grandparents are the first people you search for when you show up at a barbeque and you genuinely like hanging out with them.”

“They’re not gonna be here forever,” I said, a little defensively. “I wanna get my time in when I can.”

“I know,” she said, her eyes soft on mine. “I love that about you.”

“You’ve got nothin’ to feel guilty about,” I said, pulling her back down so she was snug against my side again. “Nothin’ that happened was your fault.”

“That’s not exactly true,” she replied. “But let’s not argue about it tonight.”

“Alright, sweetheart,” I said with a sigh. “But we’re gonna discuss it again until you stop carryin’ that shit.”

We talked for hours, finally turning in the bed so she could pull the sheet over us. She fell asleep with her ass pressed tightly against my crotch, her hand holding mine against her chest.

I was awake for a while though, sifting through everything I’d learned that night. The things I’d never be able to fix for her and the things I could. I’d been serious when I told her that I was never going back to prison, but something had to be done about that cop. I was going to have to take it to the club.

I fell asleep just before Kara’s alarm went off.

“Shit,” she said, sitting straight up in bed. “I have work!”

“Fuck,” I said as she threw off the sheet and got to her feet.

She looked at the clock. “No time to shower,” she said, rushing to her dresser.

I laughed as she paused with a drawer open then turned, moved a step in one direction and then the other. “Clothes are in my bag.”

“Living room,” I said, crossing my arms behind my head so I could watch her.

“Right,” she said. She hurried out of view and was back seconds later. She tossed the backpack that had caused so many problems into the closet from across the room, and set her bag of clothes on the bed. “We’ll burn that later,” she said, gesturing with one hand.

It took her about thirty seconds to get dressed and then she was rushing out of the room. When she came back in her hair was pulled into a ponytail with little hairs hanging down around her ears and neck because they’d already escaped the hair tie.