Under a full moon, Randall walked up to Kayla’s house, which would fit into his mansion three times over, and knocked. The heat had gotten only marginally better, and he felt a twinge of regret for the distance between him and Kayla. Maybe the career disaster was a blessing in disguise, and he needed to get his life in order by nurturing the few relationships that mattered.
Minutes passed without an answer, he knocked again. He knew she was there because her decrepit car sat in the driveway. The mere sight of it pissed him off. God save him from stubborn women.
He turned the door handle and it clicked open. Stepping into the house, he noticed immediately how hot it was, though fans blew and the windows were open. Yellow light from the lamp shone against the tan walls.
The living room was filled with interesting accents. Pictures and items made the space seem lush and fuller. Dark wooden tables, a comfy-looking olive green couch with pillows, and chairs sat atop polished hardwood floors that gleamed under two large colorful rugs. An oil painting depicted Jimmy Hendrix rocking the guitar hung over the couch. Randall grinned, never figuring her for a fan.
Neither a pillow lay out of place nor a speck on the carpet. He picked up an interesting sculpture of two lovers entwined from the coffee table, which screamed artsy and more money than he thought she could afford. He returned it and continued exploring.
At the doorway of her small kitchen, he halted in his tracks.
Standing near the refrigerator, her back to him, Kayla stood on the balls of her feet, reaching for a glass out of the cabinet. A hum of music came from her direction. He noted an iPod strapped to her bra and headphones covering her ears. So that was why she hadn’t heard his knocks, but that wasn’t what stopped him short.
She wore only underwear, a matching set of liquid-red satin bra and panties with the words KISS OFF written in white on her round bottom. The extension of her long, caramel legs and the effect on the sweet upturn of her buttock as she retrieved the glass slammed him in the gut. She set the glass on the counter and opened the refrigerator door. Still his lips stuck together. As she stood sideways, the refrigerator light underscored her two hoisted, perfect breasts. He imagined her shapely legs wrapping around his waist as he gripped her buttocks, and his mouth dried. Or her breasts filling his hands as he—
This was Kayla he was thinking about, not some girl off the street. She was much too young and innocent.
“But she is a woman now,” a voice whispered. “Look at her.”
He did, and desire slugged him. One word filled his thoughts…Hot.
Kayla took out orange juice, turned, and finally saw him. Shock played on her oval face as she yelped and almost dropped the container. Juice splattered down her legs to the floor as she tried to cover herself with the container, then turned around and ran into a room near the backdoor.
Feeling much like a kid caught with the chocolate cake, he considered leaving. Any conversation was bound to be awkward. He started backing up.
Her head without the headphones popped out of the backroom door, her deep brown eyes narrowing into slits. “What are you doing here?” she hissed.“The door wasn’t locked,” he mumbled. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
“I bet. Don’t move.” She glared before disappearing again. A dryer door opened and slammed. A couple of grunts later, she reappeared, now clothed in a wrinkled, navy t-shirt and baggy shorts that swallowed her figure. If he hadn’t just seen it, he would’ve never believed what was hidden underneath Kayla’s loose clothes—a body of a sexy bombshell..
She crossed her arms and stared at him.
“What? How could I’ve known you’d be in your underwear?” he said, not ready to take all the blame. “I waited outside at least three minutes for you. But since I knew you were here, I tried the knob. You left the door open, which is crazy and dangerous, may I add. You should be grateful it was just me and not some crazy, serial killer.”
“You’re right about the serial killer part, but I haven’t decided on the crazy part,” she retorted. “One thing’s for sure, I’ll double lock my door for now on.”
He eyed her and couldn’t resist needling her: “Tell me where I can buy panties like that? I know a couple of women who’d love them.”
She blushed. Prettily, he thought.
“I hardly think my panties are any of your business.”
He chuckled. “Fine, but why are you prancing around in your underwear, anyway?”
“I wasn’t prancing. It’s hot as hell, and I don’t have air conditioning, not that I need to explain myself to you. What do you want?”
“Can’t I just stop by to say hi?”
Her brow rose. “Seeing as though you never stopped by before, I would say no.”