Canaan
Sports like football or basketball never held my interest. As a youth, people assumed, because of my natural physical ability and height, that I was destined to be an athlete. However, I’d always been more fascinated with what makes things work. The only activities that would hold my attention were electronics and anything related to math. My fascination with cars started after I watched Pops rebuild a vehicle with his own hands. The need to speed happened by chance. At sixteen, I was test-driving one of Pops’s customer cars on a stretch of land and accidentally hit the accelerator harder than I intended. I sped on the narrow street, and a rush I’d never experienced hooked me on racing immediately.
Even if I hadn’t discovered my predilection for speed, I would’ve chosen a career or hobby around mechanics. In school, I studied what would make my car the fastest and safest, often using my college homework as a manual for the best engine design. Once I started working at my family’s engineering firm, Malcolm and I could spend hours under a hood, debating what would make that particular car faster. Other than dealing with autos, nothing seemed to fascinate me or give me the same type of rush.
Until Kensie bumped into me in Jamaica.
Now, I leaned impatiently on my car, waiting for her to walk out of the airport. I had arranged for a driver to pick her up, but at the last moment, I decided it should be me. An engaged man in love would meet his future wife who’d been away for three days, right? Airport security had already been bribed to allow me to stand and wait. People were already whispering and sneaking photos. I waved at a few so I wouldn’t appear rude or standoffish. Maybe people wouldn’t have noticed me had I driven a less expensive car than my Lamborghini Veneno. But all I had were luxury cars, and I’d been trending lately. Kensie would be pleased when she saw the small crowd. Another photo op on her quest to prove that, as a relationship guru, she could land a catch.
The thought nagged underneath the anticipation of seeing her. What if all I would ever be to Kensie is good for her career? Before I could second-guess my decision to be here, Kensie walked out of the sliding doors, wearing glasses and the goofiest grin when her eyes connected with mine. She sauntered over to me, pulling her bags behind her.
Scooping my arms under hers, pressing her soft body into mine, I brushed her lips gently with mine and breathed her name.
She dragged her hand over my head and down my nape. “Happy Birthday.”
And there it was. The reason I wanted to pick her up. The reason I had snapped and behaved like a spoiled, possessive man when she first told me she wouldn’t be here on my birthday. After years of spending it alone, I didn’t want to anymore. And Kensie had a way of making me feel important and special, even though I recognized she didn’t fully trust that I wouldn’t hurt her.
I hugged her tighter, lifting her off her feet. Declarative words of love thickened my tongue. It was too soon. Too soon to speak them, and too soon for me to trust myself enough to say them. Instead of confessing, I held her in my arms a second longer. “Let’s go home.”
Her contented sigh was enough for now.
The tiniest of kisses rained on my chest, and I rolled over on my back, pulling her on top in my sleep. Her hands roamed me hungrily, and my dick begged to be released from my shorts. She kissed my neck before slipping her tongue into my mouth. The sensual feel of her naked breasts on my skin opened my eyes.
I brushed back the braids that cocooned us. “I thought you didn’t want to confuse things?”
“Right now, I don’t care.” She gripped my erection through my shorts, and a moan escaped my lips.
I gritted my teeth at the pleasurable havoc in which she wrecked me as she continued to stroke me. “You will care again, the minute you come. These last days without you were rough. I need peace. If we have sex, there won’t be peace. I’ll crave you more than I already do, and you’ll be more emotional.”
She rolled her eyes as she straddled me. “Please don’t start with the idea that men can handle sex better than women.”
“Because we can.” I dragged my hand down her back and slipped under her panties to grab her ass. “The last time we fucked, it was just sex. The next time, I will own your sexy body, and you’re not ready for that.”
“You mean you’re not,” Kensie retorted. Her brown eyes drooped with desire and sleep.
I inserted my finger in her wetness, and her walls clenched around me before I pulled out. “Trust me, Kensie. There’s nothing I’d rather do now than be inside you.”
“Don’t you want a little birthday sex for your thirtieth?” She started to push down her panties, and I stopped her hands.
“I’m serious. You were right about abstaining. Let’s stick to what we said and wait until after I win the race.” The depth of my growing feelings for Kensie wrecked me. Waiting was my only solution to maintain my sanity.
“Did you have sex with someone else while I was gone? I saw the photos of you at the club with those thirsty women.” Though her tongue lashed in anger, hurt peeked from her eyes.
I tilted my head, studying her expression for any signs of guilt. “And I saw a pic of you with your professor somewhere out in Houston, but I’m not questioning you.”
“You don’t have to question me because there’s nothing between him and me, though he did try it like you thought would happen.” Then her brow puckered. “There’s a pic of me and Dr. Radi?”
I nodded, allowing the jealous ache to subside at her cursory mention that her professor made a move. If she hadn’t called me and told me she was on her way here before someone posted that picture hinting at trouble in our relationship, I would have been pissed. She may not be here right now if I hadn’t allowed my gut instead of my emotions to rule. “I told you that people are watching how we move. I left the club alone when I realized that you might see me there with those women hanging on my arms and think I cheated.”
“I did see it. Did you want to have sex with those women?” she asked plainly.
“Truthfully, I wanted to have sex to forget about you, but in the end, my word to you mattered.” Kensie’s expression softened. “I haven’t been a man of integrity in my personal life. I want to change that. I’m glad that you established boundaries, and I want you to like me like I like you.”
She blushed. “Why are you making me feel like a teenager? All warm and bubbly like champagne.”
“I prefer my champagne cold.” I laughed and tugged her back down to lie on my chest. “I need some rest. We can talk more in the morning about how I was right that you wouldn’t last, begging me for sex.”
“Is Narcissus your middle name? I wasn’t begging you.” She pinched my side.
