Huge Working Hero (Hard Working Hero 3)

But she's playing it safe. I get it.

Picking up my phone, I send her a text while we're still parked.

You miss me yet?

Maybe. Her text comes through instantly.

I'll take that as a yes. You know all I keep thinking about is the other day.

Me too.

Just wait till we can be alone. The things I'll do to you. . .

Oh yeah? And what's that?

I won't just use my fingers. I'll use my lips and my tongue and taste you all over.

There's a momentary gap between my text and hers. I can't stop smiling. All I can imagine is her fanning herself and shaking the heat out of her shirt.

The small bubbles begin to roll, and I'm excited to see what she says.

I got to taste you already, but I'd much rather feel you instead.

We can make that happen.

I wait patiently for the next message from Kelsie, but her father climbs back in the driver's seat and starts to roll forward.

The texts end. I put the car in first gear and we're on the road again. The rest of the drive is lonely, but I'm far from bored. My mind races with thoughts of fucking her. I want her so damn bad my cock hurts.

I've had a small taste. A sliver of what she has to offer. Her sweet flavor and tight pussy are enough to draw the animal out of me. I need so much more now.

I turn into the parking lot of the Carter House Inn, and park beside the entire Klein family. Mr. Klein taps on the passenger window.

“Nice place, Mr. Klein,” I say as I roll down the window.

“It's top quality.” Of course it is, I think to myself as he speaks. “I'm going to run inside and get the key cards for everyone's rooms. When I come back, we can start bringing everything inside.”

“Sounds good.”

He heads inside the building, and I'm in awe that this is where I'll be spending my weekend. The most expensive place in town, with a girl I can't stop thinking about, and gorgeous cars everywhere. Life couldn't be better right now.

Yes, it could. Kelsie by my side would make it one hundred times better.

My eyes keep glancing at the SUV, wondering if she's looking back. Are we looking at each other and I just can't see her behind the black tinted windows? I'm not sure, but I can almost feel that we are.

There's a knot in my gut and the hair on my arms is bristling. It's like a new sense is emerging. That sixth sense people claim to have. It's not about touch or taste or smell. I can't see her with my eyes or hear her with my ears. But I can sense her. It's a palpable feeling that's making my lungs tight and my body warm.

I run my hands back and forth over the steering wheel. Admiring the feel of the car. Driving this car is incredible. It's too bad the man who owns it doesn't appreciate what he has. He'll never know what it means to understand something this beautiful.

I wonder if he has the same problem with people.

If Wilson Klein can't see the beauty and power in this car, does he have the ability to see the powerful beauty he gave life to? Does he see her like I do?

Smart. Funny. Gorgeous from head to toe. Kelsie can take a joke and dish it right back out. She's not just some girl whose personality only runs skin deep like her father.

There's a knock on my window, making me jump in my seat. Mr. Klein is holding out the card to my room. “Here you go. You're room two-thirty. We're a floor above you, rooms three hundred to three hundred and three. Just ring us in the room if you need anything.” He slaps the roof and goes to his SUV and opens the back. “Come get your crap,” he says loudly.

The doors open, and everyone gets out. Her mother is there first, taking her suitcase by the handle. Seth fixes his backpack, then adjusts the earbuds in his ears. He doesn't look very enthused. He looks exactly like you would expect a seventeen-year-old to look who gets dragged along with the family.

He looks miserable.

Kelsie looks at me briefly, then takes her room key from her father and gets her suitcase. Her eyes only linger for a single blink, then they're gone. Her mother says something to her, but I can't make out the words.

Kelsie nods, then starts inside. The family moves like a small herd into the hotel. I finally get out of the car and take my ratty old duffle bag out of the back seat. I've had this thing since I used to wrestle in high school. You can still see the faint outline of the school mascot, an elephant, on the front of the bag. The edges are scuffed up and dirty, the strap is frayed, and I'm surprised it hasn't broken in two yet.