Chapter 13

Van

I was sitting on the front doorstep like a goddamn neglected dog, watching the street. Not to bark at intruders or chase after the rubbish truck, but waiting for her. I watched every car that came down the street. The slick black sedan the neighbours owned, the soccer van the nice lady with four kids across the cul-de-sac owned, even the sporty looking thing the guy whose wife had left him had bought pulled up in its driveway.

But not Kendall.

Connor had given me shit for sitting out here, but that was all a front. I’d seen his knuckles turn white the minute she turned and left. He was only just stopping himself from grabbing her arm and dragging her back, Gage having far less control. The big guy had followed her a few steps, but she hadn’t seen that at all, too intent on heading for the door.

Kendall didn’t cook anymore?

I’d been anxious about demonstrating our barbecuing skills for our girl when Connor asked her if she wanted to stay for dinner, but that…? Kendall was always in the kitchen, pestering her mum or each one of her grans, wanting to learn new and different tricks when cooking. It was like she’d changed her eye colour or the tone of her voice.

It was like she’d become someone else altogether.

Was she the same girl I’d eaten my heart over all of these years? My body said yes, even as the ache in my chest intensified. I didn’t know, but I wanted to. My hand scratched at my sternum, trying to ease that pain, right as I heard the regular clunk of her car come up the road.

I was a dog—her dog—and my whole body quivered as it came to attention. My eyes traced her path, willing that rust bucket of a car to keep on going, right up until it came to a stop out the front of our house. I got to my feet and rushed towards the gate, right as she caught sight of me.

“Oh!” She blinked but recovered quickly, moving towards the gate. I opened it up for her, ushering her inside. A small line formed between her brows, but she came in anyway. “Were you waiting up for me?”

Yes, yes I was, but I didn’t want to say that.

“You don’t have a key.” I fished the spare out of my pocket and then handed it over, watching those long, elegant fingers way too closely. Her skin brushed against mine, leaving a tingle in its wake, there and gone again in seconds. “I didn’t want you to be locked out.”

“Right.” Her hand closed over the key. “Well, thanks—”

“Did you end up having dinner?” I was talking too fast, staring at her too intently, something I did not do with girls. They came to me usually, making clear what they wanted. “We have plenty of leftovers if you’re hungry.”

“I had dinner at Barbie’s,” she replied, shooting me a look that made clear how weird I was being.

“Well, did you want a drink? A night cap maybe? We put those frozen margaritas in the freezer so you can have them later. Connor reckons they’re still good to drink, you just have to mush them up a bit.”

“Van…” When her hand came to rest on my arm, I went perfectly still, as if that was enough to prolong this moment. I wanted time to stop, the moon to stop moving through the sky, and just stay here. The heavy scent of frangipani in the air, coupled with a slightly cooler breeze I could barely feel, and her. Kendall touching me. Kendall close. Kendall with a key to my house and— “I think I just need a shower and then to head to bed. I’ve got work in the morning.”

“Right…” I smiled way too widely, then nodded way too much. “Well, come in. I’ll show you where everything is.”

I realised later I could’ve just left her to shower in her ensuite, but I wasn’t thinking too clearly right now. My chest felt all tight, like it was hard to breathe, not easing until she stepped inside. Connor and Gage were already in their rooms, the house dark and contained as I locked the front door. I moved ahead of her, showing her where the bathroom was before diving for the linen cupboard and pulling out fresh towels.

“There’s soap and shampoo in there.”

I walked into the bathroom with her, realising my mistake as soon as I did so. The room was small, intimate and soon she’d get naked inside here. A guy didn’t follow a girl into the bathroom, not unless he wanted…

Fuck, how I wanted.

“And if you don’t like the stuff we’ve got…” I winced as I saw the four in one shower gel we all tended to use as shaving cream, soap, shampoo and conditioner. “Just say so and we’ll pick something else up.”

“I can get my own toiletries, Van.”

I barely heard the rest of the sentence, my ears just soaking up the sound of my name on her tongue. Fuck, I could just imagine her saying it over and over again, getting lower and huskier as I—

“Of course, yeah.” I pushed the towels into her hands. “Um, so the house is locked up, so we’re all good. You got your keys, and I’m just gonna… go. I’m gonna go.”

Real fucking smooth, dickhead, I thought as I backed out of the bathroom. It wasn’t until I was in my own room, the door closing, that I allowed myself to let out the breath I had been holding. With that sigh came so much more. It felt like all of the energy was seeping out of me, leaving just this. I heard the sound of the shower being turned on, something that when it happened every morning with the guys, I barely noticed. They never made me respond like this. My hand slapped down on my door, my forehead pressed against the wood as my imagination took over.

Was she getting naked? Snapping the button of her shorts open before easing down the zipper. Did she feel her overheated skin as she pushed them off? Then her panties. I wanted to see them as tiny little scraps of lace, barely covering a place I wanted to worship, but even granny panties weren’t enough to put me off. I saw her thumbs hooking into the waistband and then pushing them down, revealing the hot little secret between her legs. My mind wanted to conjure her hand sliding between her thighs, testing her wetness, but that wasn’t going to happen now. As my hand slid down, shoved under the waist band of my shorts to grip my cock, I knew she’d never do the same.

Flick her clit to the thought of me getting naked. Feel a rush of pleasure so intense she was forced to clamp her jaw shut, lest she let out a throaty moan. Feel a strange kind of excitement, one I hadn’t felt in years, as my hand wrapped around my cock, my mind trying to imagine her doing the same.

Her fingers, so much smaller, smoother than mine, barely able to wrap around my girth as she jacked me slowly. Not too fast at the start, despite the fact I wanted that. She teased me with long, slow, swivelling strokes that had her palm rubbing across the sensitive head, the ring of her fingers tightening just under it. Fuck… fuck… I almost panted that out because I was already so fucking close. Usually jerking off was a shitty, furtive thing, done while scrolling through an endless wallpaper of nude girls with oh-so-inviting smiles, until I came hard enough to get a good night’s sleep. Instead, I slowed my strokes, wanting to prolong the experience.

Would she kiss me? Move closer, those ruby red lips glistening, but right when I went to claim them, she pulled away with a tiny giggle. She knew what she was doing to me, knew what power she possessed, and she wasn’t afraid to wield it. I was dream-Kendall’s bitch, and I loved it. But she edged closer, promising me the world with those eyes that glittered with challenge, so close I could feel her breath on my face, her scent in my nose. I wanted her so fucking badly, and that’s why I lost control.

My balls pulled up tight, ready to erupt, bringing me back to the room, the sound of the shower, everything. I gripped my cock tight, as if to cut off the cum, to stop it from flowing, but vicious, vicious pleasure rocketed through me, making my head spin and my vision start to go black at the edges right before I shot my load against the door. Pulse after pulse, it felt like it was being torn from me, the pain making the pleasure so much sharper and sweeter. I gasped out her name, over and over, knowing I’d do the same if my dream ever came true, but just for a second, I saw what would come afterwards.

My hands would move to clean up the mess I’d made, scooping up my cum and feeding it into her greedy little cunt, needing to mark her in the most primal way possible, using my slippery fingers to tease her clit until she came hard, sucking every drop of my seed inside her where it belonged. Then, and only then, I’d pull her close, holding her tight and never letting her go, telling her that as I pushed my nose into her hair. I’d sleep with her like that, locked in my arms, my lips pressed against her forehead.

But instead I was just standing here, dick hanging out with a mess to clean off the door.

I grabbed an old t-shirt off the floor and wiped the door clean, then tossed it in the washing basket before collapsing onto the bed. Usually when I jerked off I was left tired and wrung out, but this time I only felt the latter. The ache was back in the centre of my chest because she wasn’t lying down beside me. Instead, my bed felt big and empty as I pulled a sheet over myself.

But maybe one day…

That tiny flicker of hope was all I needed to ease the ache somewhat. Maybe if I did everything right, after doing everything wrong, she’d see me. Not as the dickhead who aided and abetted her brother’s attempts to terrorise her, but as a man. The one who had been forced to grow the fuck up and realise what an idiot he’d been.

People called me a pie-eyed optimist and that was OK. Dreaming big and aiming high, that’s what motivated me. Who fucking knew what you could achieve if you tried? And I’d try for Kendall. Whatever it took to get my girl in my room, not just to fuck, but… Forever, that was the promise I made to myself as I nodded. As my lover, my girlfriend, my…

Wife?

I’d never thought of settling down with a girl, but Kendall? Yeah the thought of her wearing my ring on her finger was pretty damn sweet. My eyelids fluttered closed as I heard the shower stop running, and I started to dream, of the most perfect girl in the world dressed in white as I walked towards her.