Page 6 of Nice & Thick

I’m not going to comment about how it was her idea to aisle shop. I don’t think there's a foot in this place we haven't touched. Electronics, houseware shit, clothes, and books were the tip of the iceberg. Kyra picked three paperbacks, one a romance, one a biography, and another about a serial killer. Remind me to never piss her off; she’s got quite the eclectic taste. I picked up a few things I noticed that were looking rough for the house, mainly hand towels and washcloths. Then we headed to the grocery section, and that’s when shit got real. The next section we headed to was the food area, and that’s when shit got real. Even though we went to a restaurant for lunch before shopping, the two of us polished off an appetizer. I had a burger and fries, and Kyra had a chicken wrap with sweet potato fries for Kyra. I offered to order dessert, but she shook her head, and we got the check. Then we came here. Clearly, eating beforehand didn’t help us do less damage.

“Nah, it’ll all get eaten. One way or the other.” It took a lot longer at the store than it normally would for the middle of the week in the early afternoon. Apparently, more than half of Daytona had the same idea. Either it’s payday for the majority of the citizens or the hurricane getting worse has others panic buying.

Since it’s still early in hurricane season this year, I had no idea what all we had at the house, so we picked up some essentials as a necessity. This surgery didn’t give me near enough time to prepare beforehand. Paper products, batteries, non-perishable items you wouldn’t normally get piled up. And while I can control the power with the generator, the same can’t be said for the water. The city could very well turn the water off and has in the past when shit gets too dicey. The only thing left to do is to check on the home generator once we’re back. It routinely kicks on once a week. Still, I’d rather be safe than sorry.

Once everything is off-loaded and put away, I’ll turn on the news and get a feel for what’s happening. Kade and I will need to decide our game plan for Whitecaps, and I’ll make sure he’s good to go at his place with Drena. While our homes are one thing, the store will be a different story entirely. While we have a sand dune to help keep the water away from the house, Whitecaps being on the main road to the beach means water could potentially enter the store a fuck of a lot easier.

“Before it goes bad?”

“Without a doubt. The fruit can be frozen, so can most everything else.” I’ve watched Kyra eat a box of blackberries for a snack. This shit will get eaten well beforehand. We both work out, her more on cardio, me on weights. It’s not like we’ve gone out to eat much either, mainly because I didn’t want to use a crutch, have people staring, and dealing with the questions. When you’re a business owner in this small of a town, the locals know everything within ten or twenty minutes.

Kyra looks up at me like I’ve got two heads. “Sweetheart, I wasn’t raised by a pack of wolves. Had a grandma growing up who taught me how to cook. She lived through the Great Depression, so there wasn’t a whole lot that went to waste. What we don’t eat, we’ll freeze. We can use the fruit for smoothies and do similar with the vegetables, but I'll create a stir fry for later.”

We head for the lady at the exit. I nod to her and hand over my receipt. She does a quick perusal between the piece of paper and my cart and scans a couple of items.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Have a great day.”

Kyra is handed the receipt, and I can tell she still wants to talk about the excess food. I’m beginning to think it’s not about the food itself but the fact I wouldn’t let her pay for what she thinks is her portion. She had tried to place cash on the table for lunch and when I refused, she’d grumbled about not helping pull her weight.

“You have to admit it’s a lot.” We clear the exit. There’s more breathing room and a shit ton less people. I’m not the biggest fan of crowds—not sure who would be—so I take a deep breath once we’re out in the open.

“Kyra, come here.” I stop the buggy and wait for her to move closer. As it is, she’s too damn far away for me to even take her hand in mine. I’d prefer her to stand beside me while we’re walking, but she’s not a mind reader and I can’t help what she doesn’t know.

“Are you okay?” Maybe concern is etched on my face, but the minute she’s near me, I pull her in front of my body so she's between the buggy and me.

“I’m more than fine. Hop on. I’m taking you for a ride.” She looks at me then at the buggy. A smile appears on her face, nearly knocking me on my ass.

“What?” She looks behind her, and my hands rest on either side of her body as I walk us toward the truck.

“Love when you smile. What I don’t like is you worrying. For today, do me a favor and relax. It’s been a great day so far, and it’s only going to get better.”

“Rhodes.” I shake my head. “Fine, if you must, continue your journey.” She might pretend to be put out, but I can see the tension lifting from her shoulders, and when I wrap my arm around her waist, she finishes letting go.

“Much obliged.” Damn woman is going to be impossible to give anything to. A lunch, a few books, and food she’ll eat; it’s not fucking much. We’re at the truck in no time. Getting here early in the day secured us a decent parking spot near the front.

“I’ll help,” Kyra says as I hit the key fob to unlock the truck as well as turn it on.

“That works. You take the cold stuff and shit that will fly out and put in the backseat. I’ll put the heavy stuff in the back.” I go about my task, watching Kyra. Each time I get a glimpse of her ass, I have to count to ten. The need to take her in my arms, tear her clothes off, and sink my cock inside Kyra is damn strong.

“I saw that,” Kyra says when I lift a case of water.

“Wasn’t hiding it.” I toss a wink her way. A blush colors her cheeks. Yeah, I’d say it’s time to get this show on the road and get us back home, stat.

9. Rhodes

“Rhodes, there’s still more to put away.” There’s only so much a man can take. I’m at my breaking point. One taste would never be enough, and while I’ve waited, I’m fucking done.

“It’ll keep.” The freezer and refrigerated shit was put away; the rest we can take care of later, much later. With each step I take toward Kyra, she takes one back. I continue my prowl heading straight for the couch. The only problem with where this is going is neither of us is naked. My hand goes to the back of my neck, fisting my shirt and pulling it over my head.

“Oh.” Her ass meets the arm of the couch.

“You going to strip for me, or am I taking your clothes off for you?”

She whips her shirt over her head. Full tits wrapped in a lace bra greet me. Goddamn, I don’t care what they say, more than a handful is not a fucking waste. Her hands go to the button on her jeans, flicking it open, then the rasp of the zipper reverberates through the room, and she shimmies out of the dark denim. “Jesus, sweetheart.” I edge closer, ripping my shorts and boxer briefs off in one swoop, then step out of them. My balance is damn good, or I’m that fucking ready.

“Me? What about you? The outline and feel of your cock are nothing compared to seeing it with my own two eyes.” She's in nothing but a bra and underwear—deep purple, matching, and a whole lot of lace. Smooth milky skin, freckles dotting along her body. I lick my lips, thinking about what she will taste like when I get my mouth on every last inch of her.

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