Kiss King - Mickey Miller Page 0,83
on a picture of me.
“My dad supported me in every way a dad could support a daughter. He would run with me for my track workouts in the summer. He’d be at every track meet. He did things to help me that most fathers would never consider—he’s a great guy.” She stopped looking at me, then down again, something was really bothering her. Then she continued, “He was there for me every step of the way except for my art. I painted something once and he said it was fine but asked me what I would study that was ‘sensible.’ And now you’re—” I’m sure she was about to burst out crying.
“Maya,” I say through gritted teeth, and my voice comes out gravelly. “I’m not your fucking father.”
She jerks her head back. “Excuse me?”
“Just because I’m telling you that you can do better doesn’t mean I’m not supporting you. Are you kidding me here?” For all of her brash personality with her friends, Maya is one of the most sensitive people I’ve ever met.
Her face is still downturned. Fuck, I wish we weren’t having this conversation after a night of drinking.
I land my hand on her hip and point her eyes toward me. “Did I ever tell you how I became Grant Taylor, MVP pitcher?”
“No.” A slight grin crosses her face. “You mean, you weren’t just born with a baseball glove in your hand?”
I shake my head. “I was born with a lot of gifts, sure.”
“Yes, you were born with gifts.”
“Yes. To play baseball you’ve got to be tall, strong, talented—”
“And have a solid degree of cockiness,” she adds playfully, gripping my bicep. “So, you weren’t just born this way?”
I smirk. “I just know that without those two years of nonstop practice when I was in high school, I wouldn’t be twenty and already getting looked at by major league scouts. What does this have to do with painting? Well, I don’t fucking know. I’m drunk and ranting. I love the paintings you’ve done. I’ll buy them. And I know you’ve got many more to come. And the more you do it, the better you’ll get.”
She nods. Is she getting misty-eyed?
“Thanks,” she chokes out. “I know people think I have thick skin and I do, but when it comes to my art, I guess I’m really sensitive. I don’t like showing people pieces. But I trust you.”
I wrap my arms around her and give her a big hug. Her warm body cozies up against me so perfectly.
“You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. Have I told you that?”
She pulls back and looks up at me. “Have I ever told you you’re really sweet?”
We head down the stairs and out into the night, walking back to our dorm.
“So,” I grin. “Have I ever told you about the details of my break-in fantasy?”
She wiggles her eyebrows. “No, that’s my fantasy.”
“Mine too.”
“Oh. Ohhhh. Sorry, drunk brain!” she exclaims.
I laugh. “So, is that something you’d want to make reality, or just something you’d like to keep at the purely fantasy level?”
“There are a lot of logistics and trust issues with it, and I don’t think I’d feel comfortable making it a reality.”
“Oh.”
A group of guys is coming toward us, and I instinctively put my hand on her back. She looks up at me. “…unless I did it with someone I really trust. Like you.”
“You’d trust me to ‘break-in’?”
“If there’s anyone I’d ever trust, it would be you.”
The group of guys passes us, and we walk along the wall of another one of the dorms. It’s late and no one’s around.
I know Maya doesn’t want to open us up to the scrutiny of being a campus “item”.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t do this.
Taking her by the hand, I pull her into me, spin her around, and press her against the brick wall next to us. She moans and raises her leg up so I can squeeze her thigh.
When I kiss her, she arches her hips into me.
“Surprised?”
She nods. “A little.”
She reaches down and runs her hand along the outside of my jeans, feeling the outline of my cock.
“You want me to break-in. And you want to be surprised.”
“Maybe,” she smirks.
I slip my hand up her shirt, and land on her breast. “You do. Your nipple is hard just thinking about it.”
She nods. “Yes.”
I slip my hand down from under her shirt and take her by the hand as we walk back to the dorm.
She adds, “I doubt you’ll surprise me. But consider this