Ocean (Damage Control 5)

Leaving me there, too shocked to move, his spicy taste lingering on my tongue.

What the hell just happened?

Chapter Six

Ocean

Fuck, fuck, fuck. All I want is to stay in my tiny kitchenette, wrapped around Kayla, kissing her until we both pass out from lack of oxygen. Then I’d undress her, slowly, kiss every beautiful inch of her, taste her everywhere. I’d make her come again and again. I’d enter her and feel her close around me.

I’d ask her if she meant what she said. If there’s a chance… any chance that…

Fuck, not sure I wanna know the answer. And even if she wants me, then what? How can I be with her without telling her about my past? Without telling her I can’t stay? If she wants me to stay, and Christ, this is fucking with my head big time.

Plus I’m worried about Jason.

“Is he okay?” Kayla asks, coming out of the kitchen as I check on the guy on my couch. He’s asleep, a fitful sleep he’s been drifting in and out of for the past two days.

“Not really.” He looks like shit. Feverish, with a deep, rattling cough. Too thin, too bruised, too sick. “He’ll crash here for a few days until he’s well again. It’s just a cold, Jesse said.”

&

nbsp; “Looks like more than a cold,” Kayla says, echoing my thoughts.

Yeah.

Jason’s a hooker. A friend from his days on the streets, so Jesse told me, his face serious and drawn.

Goddammit, maybe I should call Jesse, tell him about this. Not sure what he can do, though. Maybe he was right and a few days indoors, in the warmth, will do the trick and get Jason well.

Damn, I hope so. Because it could be a virus. The flu. The fucking plague. Could be contagious, and getting sick is the last thing I need right now. How the fuck am I gonna help Mom if I’m laid up sick?

Whatever, though. Throwing Jason out is out of the question.

“He looks very young.” Kayla is standing beside me, looking down at the sofa, a faraway expression in her eyes.

He does. My chest tightens. “He reminds me of my brother.”

She puts a hand on my arm, and warmth spreads down to my chest. Fuck, she’s distracting me just by being here, so close, and I wanna kiss her again. “I’d always imagined your brother with blue hair like you.”

My mouth twitches. “Nah. That’s just me.” I step away and grab her hand. “I used to take care of my brother when we were little, that’s all.” I grin at her as I drag her back to the kitchenette—because she comes along willingly, her cheeks pink. “And now I’ll take care of you.”

“I’m not sick.”

“You sure? You look flushed.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re hot.”

“I’m not— Ocean. What are you doing?”

I close the door behind us once more and press up against her. “Trying to decide if you really like me.”

“Oh God,” she says, and then we’re kissing again, and fuck me, it’s even better and hotter than before.

I’m burning. I have to have her. I want to find out how her skin tastes, how her tits fit in the palms of my hands, how she looks spread over my kitchen table, how her pussy smells and tastes. Want it with a mind-blowing need, unlike anything I’ve ever wanted before.

Want to hear her say again she has a crush on me. That she wants me like I want her, and yet I’m stopping her mouth with mine, afraid she’ll say it was a joke. That she only said it because she thought I was not interested. That she’ll run away.