Page 19 of No Second Chances

When I glare at him even more, he shrugs. “Your. Balls. Touched. My. Hand.” A shudder works its way through my body involuntarily, making me want to slap him upside the head. “Never again, Linc. Every single time I see you, I’m gonna bring it up, until something worse happens.”

I walk away, unwilling to talk about it with him or admit that I’d been in the wrong. As far as I’m concerned, the entire thing is Remy’s fault. My black eye, the fact that my balls got exposed to everyone, and the fact that Parker told me she videoed the entire thing and sent it to Kennedy.

Dom doesn’t let me get far before he falls into step beside me, and the two of us walk silently through the hall toward the parking lot. Working the rest of my shift after court in the morning isn’t the best thing in the world, but then again, neither is walking right into the most awkward situation I ever thought possible when we step out of the stairwell.

“I’m not picking a tick off your ass, Kennedy. That crosses a line now that you’re an adult. One I’m not going back over.”

“Come on, Mom. It’s a tick. You’ve dealt with ticks in the past. We live in Maine, and I know you’ve picked them off me before.”

Dom snorts, giving away the fact that we are there, and the two women turn to face us. Kennedy’s face turns redder than her hair, and she immediately bursts into embarrassed tears. I only know because it is the exact same thing she did when she was twelve and walked into the bathroom while I was taking a shower.

“I’ll pick a tick off your ass,” Dom chimes in. “I don’t think I’ve had my fill of other people’s bodies this week and I need to reach my self-imposed quota.”

Kennedy laughs through her tears, and I know that is Dom’s intention, but the feral growl that leaves my lips is one I can’t control. She may not be mine, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let someone else get their hands on her, especially when I’m standing right there.

“Great.” Veronica Townsend, who has insisted we call her Mama T from the time we could talk, beams at the two of us, and I want to disappear into a pit. The glimmer there, the exact same look she had on her face when she caught me and Remy sneaking out in high school, tells me that she knows exactly what she is doing.

Dom and Kennedy, on the other hand, are completely oblivious to her machinations.

“I’m gonna go,” she goes on with a saccharine smile. “Dom can get the tick off your ass.”

With that, and a wave that might make a beauty queen happy, Mama T walks away with her head held high.

Kennedy’s sniffle catches my full attention, and I clench my fists to keep from reaching for her. The scent that is only hers, a mix of vanilla and ecstasy, wraps itself around my head and fills my mind with the image of our night together, making the struggle to keep my hands to myself even harder.

“Go away, Dom.”

Dom, who’s been watching me closely, laughs to himself and shakes his head. “Nah, man. I think I’m good right here.”

“Go. Away.” I bite out the words and wait patiently, even though I want to punch him in the face.

Knowing I’ve reached my limit, Dom walks away without another word, leaving me with a wide-eyed Kennedy who still has tears in her eyes.

“How’re your balls?” She gasps at her own question, slapping her hand over her mouth in surprise.

I shake my head, taking a step forward. Then I take her by the arm and lead her into the training room at the end of the hall and lock the door behind me.

“Apparently, they’re better than your ass.” Those words feel like someone has grabbed my tongue and doused it in honey and then stuck it to a cat’s ass. They barely make it out of my mouth, and once they are out, I feel like ash has been dumped down my throat.

“I’m fine, Linc.” She stares at me with amber eyes that I’ll never forget, and her red hair has already started to fall out of her bun. “You don’t need to help.”

“Shut up, Kennedy.”

Her eyes flash with contradiction, but she can’t exactly leave. I stand in front of her only escape, and the door is locked.

“Seriously, Linc,” she hedges. “You can just go.”

“Shut up, Kennedy,” I repeat, trying to convince myself that I’m doing the right thing. “Just shut up and drop your pants.”

Her face flames, but she doesn’t move to listen to me. If anything, my order makes her more scared. Not that I blame her, though. I’ve stayed away for years. I let her think I don’t want her. Don’t crave every inch of her body. Even if I can’t have her, I still want her.

“Drop them and bend over.” I plaster a bored expression on my face, one that will keep her from knowing that even being in the room with her is making my fucking year.

This time, Kennedy listens. Frankly, it is both a blessing and a curse, because while I practically hear angels singing as she strips down her pants, she isn’t doing it so I can taste her… or take her.

Three painstaking minutes later, I’ve pulled the tick from her ass and disposed of it, the entire time trying to ignore the desire to spread her legs and take her.

“T-thank you,” she stammers.

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