Page 8 of Maid Fohr Love
“And, I’m worried about you. Your discomfort isn’t a good look. I can’t accept it here or anywhere, honestly.”
“Last night wasn’t a good night for me. My discomfort hardly had anything to do with you, personally. That was all me. Why am I still outside?” She couldn’t help herself and had to ask. It was obvious that Kit was accustomed to having her way. Maybe an ex or her father had conditioned her to believe that she could have anything her heart desired and she could.
Silence etched away at the invisible tension between the two of us as our eyes danced around one another’s. The suncontinued to rise behind her big, fluffy hair, reminding me that time wasn’t on our sides.
Prior to discovering exactly who was on my porch, I had every intention of getting more rest. Rest was now the furthest of my concerns. Quickly, Kit had become my only one. Right now, nothing more mattered.
“You have a key. You could’ve used it,” I reminded her, breaking our silence.
“I needed your permission, as I was fired last night.”
You’ll always have my permission, I cringed at the little voice in my head siding with the woman who’d sent me home with a punch to the ego just hours prior – and in the rain, nonetheless.Nigga!I checked my damn self.
“Ki…” I paused, nostrils flaring in frustration. It was important to respect her wishes, but if I wasn’t to call her Kit then what the fuck was I supposed to call her? In my temporary state of confusion, my fingers found my scalp and began to scratch. A habit I needed to break.
“Kit is fine. You can call me Kit,” she clarified, shifting her weight, again. “Maybe I should go home and you forget that I stopped by. You seem conflicted, and I don’t want to further complicate anything. Sorry I even showed up like this,” she confessed, tossing her hands in the air and starting for her car.
As much as I admired her backside as she handed it to me, I hated it at the moment. Hated the cracking of her voice as she tried getting her words out. Hated that another nigga had gotten the chance to spoil her, turning her into a lowkey brat, and then left her alone.
Hated that she felt unwelcomed when she was. Hell, I even hated the fact that I moved so fucking swiftly to catch her by the arm and pull her into my home… into me.
Our chests collided, bringing me back to the moment at hand… back to her. At the realization that I was possiblyinvading every crevice of her personal space, I stepped back but failed to release her wrist, which I held closely.
Her eyes found mine before following the long trail where our bodies connected. The bolt of electricity-like energy that rushed through our veins wasn’t able to go unnoticed and neither was the rigidness underneath the fabric of my briefs.
“I-uh,” Kit staggered, unsure of her words.
“Stay,” I demanded before releasing her from my grip.
Nodding, she stepped backward with a bowed head. Her eyes gawked at the floor beneath her as we both took the necessary time to gather our thoughts. With moments fleeting, I considered a few possible reasons she’d declined my offer, but showed up at my door. Her comfort was still in question. She was visibly shaken, even now.
“Okay,” she cooed, voice gentler and a bit calmer. Kit was at war with her thoughts and suppressing her reservations. It was pretty fucking obvious.
Twirling on her heels, she ventured toward the car that was in the center of my rounded driveway. And for the second time, I extended my long arm to pull her into my home. This time, her raw umber, curious rounds stared back at me in question of my actions.
To clarify, I briefly asked, “Where are your keys?”
With her freehand, she handed me her keys which were accompanied by a tube of mace in a red leather case. Her protection was priority in her life. With so many fools roaming the earth, it was satisfying knowing that she at least had a small advantage.
“There’s plenty. I should help.”
“Go inside and make yourself comfortable. Choose a bedroom, preferably one with a bath attached. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Or, maybe I’ll get started on breakfast,” she insisted.
“It’s not even seven,” I reminded her, desperate for her to relax and make herself comfortable. Since I’d met her, she’d been everything but.
“My body refuses breakfast after eight,” she revealed as I took note.
Every detail, I was shoving in my mental rolodex. There wasn’t a single thing that I wanted to forget. This was the case long before Kit began to reserve space in my head. Long before last night. Long before this all. It was just my thing.
Without another word, I encouraged her to have her way in the kitchen as I headed outside. Her slim fingers against my bare chest halted my actions, stopping me in my tracks and reawakening the missile that had been laid to rest between my legs.
Why the fuck did she do that?
“Wait. You’re going out there like this?”
Her eyes roamed my flesh, feeling as if they were unclothing my already partially covered body.
