He's the guy moms warn their daughters about. Bold, outspoken, and self-confident, Brian O'Brien returns to his hometown only to discover some things changed in his absence.
Brian has a new neighbor - a shy, smart girl Leah, who hates his guts since...
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Kitten is staring at me with her huge, beautiful eyes. Her cheeks are flushed, and her lips... I swallow hard to stop myself from kissing the hell out of her again, and then some.
"Get dressed, Kitten," I say. "I should do the same."
Without giving her time to reply, I dash to the other bedroom to put something on me. I'm not shy, never have been, but what happened was a massive fuckup on my part.
I couldn't resist her, and that's as weird for me as seeing a fucking unicorn drinking orange juice from the carton. Not that it never happened—Lenny bought that shitty mask somewhere and scared us after a party while we were hungover. The fucker is lucky to be alive cause Mac lives by the rule, 'When in doubt, a baseball bat.' I can't blame him. Our town has seen some messed-up shit.
I grab some boxers and a plain black tee and get dressed fast. Then, I fetch my cigarettes and a lighter and head onto the terrace.
I need to get Kitten and her lips out of my system. I know my boy won't sleep tonight. The dude might as well be patrolling Pops Senior's estate with a lantern till sunrise unless I calm him down, which is out of the question with Kitten in the cabin. Groaning, I put a cig in my mouth and light it.
The faint sound of footsteps reaches my ears some minutes later. I swivel my head and see Kitten in her pink PJs. She has a cute little ass and round tits, and I contemplate jumping into the fucking ocean and drowning there because there's no way in hell I'll be getting any of that tonight.
Kitten wrinkles her cute little nose and crosses her arms in front of her boobs. Okay, a bit lower, but they're all I see.
"You don't have to freak out, O'Brien. It was just a kiss. People kiss all the time. You fed me and showed me the sea, and I got grateful. It was a thank you peck on the lips. You're not even that good at it, so no worries."
I stare at the chick, unable to believe what she's saying. Not good at it? I mentally skim through the list of all the chicks I kissed and can only remember them saying, 'oh, Brian, yes, Brian, so good, Brian.' Who lied?
I leave the half-burned cigarette in the ashtray. "Not good at it?"
Kitten shrugs. "Could be better."
I reach for some chewing gum I'd left on the terrace table and pop a piece into my mouth. The boy takes over. I approach Kitten and lift her off the floor.
"Brian!" she squeals.
"Hush, Princess, or I'll toss you into the water," I say, carrying her to the bedroom. Goosebumps spread across her skin, so I open the comforter with one hand and put Kitten there, lying down beside her and hugging her.
