Over the Hills and Far Away (NOLA's Own #1) (41 page)

“Damn right.”

We made it to the truck, and he rummaged through his bag while I unlocked the driver’s door. Pulling out a CD, he handed it to me and hopped in, sliding into the bitch seat.

“Oh! Is this the single?”

He grinned. “Just listen.”

It was “Louisiana Baby,” cleaned up and sounding phenomenal. It blew my mind that it had been written about
me
, that the man sitting next to me would sing this with me in his thoughts. He would get up on the stage and let the world know that this was how he felt about me, and he was
happy
to do so. Just that fact alone had my eyes stinging, and I was thrilled that I was wearing huge sunglasses.

How could I not love and adore this man with my whole heart?
My soul was truly his, and I thought it had been my whole life. Perhaps that was why I never took my relationships with other men—okay, only Brian—seriously. I was always invested in one I hadn’t even known existed.

I thought of the picture of us as children, housed in its silver frame on my nightstand.

Was that when it happened? Was that it for me? Did that moment—one I have no actual memory of—set me on this road with Phil? Did my soul remember him when my brain couldn’t?

“Is it weird, listening to yourself like that?” I asked, trying to get my head into the here and now.

He shrugged. “Not so much. I like the music we make. I guess it’s like listening to any other band.”

Turning the ignition, the Black Beauty roared to life, and Phil draped his arm around my shoulders.

“You look beautiful, Kenna,” he told me, his breath caressing over my ear.

I turned my head and leaned forward to press my lips to his. “So do you.”

He cupped my face with his free hand, holding me right where he wanted me. His tongue slid past my lips, tasting me, leaving his wonderful flavor behind. My hand reached up to hold the back of his neck, and the kiss deepened.

Panting, he broke it, pressing his Third Eye to mine. The raging excitement, his desire, his blatant need to make me his in all ways possible became a ever-present tangible entity. It infected me and swelled and urged my own desperate desire for him.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“All right,” I replied and pulled out of his embrace. “I hope you like Mexican food. We’ve been slaving over it for two days, making sure we can feed you properly.”

“We?” he asked, shifting uncomfortably and adjusting the bulge in his pants.

“Well, yeah. I live with Lili and Alys.”

“I knew that,” he grumped. “I was hoping it’d just be us.”

“It will be after dinner. They’re going to catch the show at Bougainvillea tonight and sleep at Alys’s parents’ place.”

“Yeah?” he grunted.

“Yeah. You okay?”

“Baby Girl, I got a case of blue balls so bad that I might just fuck us both to death tonight.”

“Huh. That sounds promising,” I joked, trying to control my twitchy lips but failing miserably.

We listened to the local rock station on the drive back to Ormond.

During a commercial break, he turned down the volume. “So, do you guys go to Bougainvillea a lot?”

“Most Fridays and Saturdays—when we know the bands are good. Maybe the House of Blues when the show is
really
good. It’s easier to go to Bougainvillea though, and cheaper. Plus, it’s not actually in the city, making it a straight-shot home afterward.”

Nodding, he grinned. “I think it’s cool that you all still go to shows. We went out last night and saw some up-and-comin’ bands. It’s nice to be in the audience once in a while.”

“It’s all I’ve ever known. I think it’s a hobby of ours though. We just love music.”

“Me and the guys were the same before we started performin’. If we weren’t in Dad’s garage, we were at shows.”

“It’s a magical thing,” I happily informed him.

He chuckled, “You’ve got an awesome way to look at it.”

“Well, it is,” I insisted. “You get a group of people to come together to write and play
music
. Music is its own sort of magic. Unlike anything else, it fuels our brains on a spiritual level. It makes us dance, and it inspires us to fall in love, have sex, and lose our inhibitions. Hell, I listen to music to help me clean my house! I prefer certain music to smoke to and to listen to while I meditate. It sets our mood, amps us up, and brings on bittersweet memories. My mom used to say that music was the language of the soul. It speaks directly to our inner selves.”

He leaned over and kissed my temple.

“I think
you’re
pretty magical,” he whispered.

We stopped at the red light at the intersection that turned into Ormond. When the light turned green, I turned left, pulling into our neighborhood. I took another left on Alameda and continued past the Plantation House.

Next to me, Phil tensed up.

Slowing down, I made the first left after we’d passed his place.

“Shut the fuck up,” he whispered, making me grin.

There was only one house back here.

As I pulled into my driveway, he stared at the house in stunned silence before saying, “You live
here
?”

“I do.”

“How long have you lived here?”

“Um…thirteen years?”

He stared at me, and I was dying to know what was going through his head.

“Ready for homemade Mexican with three crazy bitches?”

He seemed to snap out of it. “Yeah.”

He grabbed his bag and guitar, and we headed up the steps. The scent of frying meat greeted us as we walked through the front door.

“Fuck, that smells awesome,” he groaned.

At the sound of his voice, Lili came peeling out of the kitchen. Completely out of character, she bounced and squealed, throwing her arms in the air. The sound of utensils clattering on the counter sounded, and Alys came running out, too, joining Lili. They looked like two twelve-year-olds witnessing their favorite boy band walking through the front door.

Phil looked shocked as he dropped his stuff on the couch. Then, he did something that sealed my love for him forever. He started to bounce and squeal, too, throwing his arms out in invitation. Alys and Lili launched themselves at him. Huge dude that he was, he enfolded them in his embrace. After dropping a kiss on top of Alys’s head, he then lifted Lili for a proper hug. She looked like a toddler in his arms.

Lili responded by wrapping her arms and legs around him and burying her face in his neck.

Phil froze, his arms dropping to his sides, having no idea what to do. “Uh, Baby Girl?”

“Yeah, Phil.” I replied, walking behind Alys into the kitchen.

“She knows I belong to you, right?”

Alys let loose a lusty sigh.

I replied, “Mmhmm.”

“Shh. I’m holding on to a master of metal,” said Lili from her lofty perch. “Don’t ruin this for me. Who knows if I’ll ever get to do this again?”

Bless Alys.

She’d offered to have everything ready for when we got back, and she had done a gorgeous job of it.

Phil walked into the kitchen, complete with his Lili attachment. With a deep appreciation, he looked at the breakfast bar loaded with food. “Damn, this looks amazing.”

“It is,” piped up Lili. Untangling herself from him, she totally slid down his front. “It’s one of my favorites of Kenna’s.”

“You made all of this?” he asked.

“I had help.”

“Damn, woman,” he grunted.

Phil sat next to me, and when he wasn’t constructing a fajita, his left hand was glued to my right thigh. One-handed, he would shove the food into his mouth. Sitting across from us, Alys and Lili noticed this, but they made no mention of it.

By witnessing our antics, Phil was beginning to understand the relationship between the three of us, that we weren’t just
best friends
. We had a truly stronger than average bond. We more like sisters.

“It’s like you guys have your own language,” he said after one particularly animated story the three of us had told while cracking up the whole time.

“Something like that.” Alys smiled.

At seven thirty, Alys and Lili went upstairs to grab their stuff and get ready to go out while Phil and I cleared the table. There was no food left. Phil had eaten
eleven
fajitas.

From the fridge, I grabbed a couple of organic beers and handed one to him.

“I thought you didn’t drink,” he said in surprise.

“I do on occasion. I prefer weed.”

He took a glug and read the label. “It’s good.”

“Are you sure you guys don’t want to come with us? Some good bands are playing tonight,” Lili said as she reappeared with her overnight bag over her shoulder.

Phil looked at me. “Do you?”

I shrugged casually, like I wasn’t anxiously hoping the two women I loved most in life would just get the fuck out of the house. “We can, if you want.”
Please say no. Please say no. Please say no.

He looked at Lili. “I think we’re just gonna stay in tonight.”

“I bet,” she retorted.

Alys came up and hugged me, and I happily hugged her back. “I’ll call you in the morning before we head home, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Muffin.”

“Anytime. Love you, Sweet Pea.”

“Love you, too.”

Lili came up and hugged me, too. She whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, “Just not on the breakfast bar, yeah? We eat there.”

Phil proceeded to have a violent coughing fit, having sucked the rest of his beer down the wrong pipe. He was still wheezing a bit when she walked up to him and poked him in the sternum.

“You,” she snapped.

“Yeah?”
Cough, cough.

“You’d better not be messing around. You fuck with Kenna, you hurt her in any way, and I’ll cut you.”

His face turned dead serious. “I believe you.”

Outside, the faint sound of thunder rumbled in the distance, and Phil’s eyebrows reached for his hairline. It was as though the gods were in agreement with Lili.

“Bye, guys!” Alys called from the front door.

“Bye!” Phil and I called back.

Lili gave Phil one last glare before flouncing out.

“She’s abso-fuckin’-lutely terrifying,” he said under his breath.

“Like a Chihuahua,” I agreed, turning toward the sink and turning on the faucet to start rinsing the dishes. “But it’s Alys you should really be scared of.”

“But she’s the sweet one.”

“She’s the one who actually knows how to kill a man.”

“Oh, yeah.”

I picked up the frying pan and shoved it under the water. Phil braced his heavily tattooed arms on either side of me, his hands landing on the counter. The full length of him was pressed against my back, and he strained his growing cock into my rump.

“Leave it,” he commanded in a menacing voice.

I must have some sort of fucked-up wiring in my brain because
that
voice should have inspired terror, but all it did was make my nipples hard and my crotch go all mushy and hot.

“And if I insist on doing this now?”

“Then, our first time will be me fuckin’ you up against the kitchen sink.”

Well, all right then.

I turned off the faucet and dropped the pan. He took a step back, so I could turn around. Looking up into his face, I realized,
Holy shit, this is
it.
This is about to happen! I’m going to have sex with Phil fucking Deveraux!

I took his hand and led him toward the stairs. We stopped briefly for him to grab his bag.

“I got a mega box of condoms, and we’re gonna put a serious dent in it,” he announced joyously, following me up the steps.

On the fourth step, I paused, and I turned around. “Wait.”

“What?”

Oh, the look on his face was
priceless.
His eyes were suddenly wide with a panicky glaze.

“Don’t think you’re changin’ your mind. I will lose my shit and go on a homicidal rampage, Kenna—”

I lost it, laughing heartily.

“I’m fuckin’ serious—”

“No!” I cracked up. “It’s not that—”

“Then,
what
?”

“Well, I mean, we both have a clean bill of health, yeah?”

“Yeah-huh.”

“I’ve never had unprotected sex before, and I’m on birth control. I was wondering…if you’re comfortable with it, that is…I’d like to not use protection with you. It’s not like I plan on ever sleeping with someone else—”

Without further ado, he tossed me over his shoulder. “This day just keeps gettin’ better and better,” he crowed, hauling ass up the stairs. “Which fuckin’ door?”

“On the right,” I told his perfect ass, which filled my vision nicely.

Opening the door, he set me on my feet and back-kicked the door shut. He hauled me into his arms and kissed me until my legs turned to jelly and my spine turned to rubber. His hands grabbed the hem of my shirts, and he started tugging them over my head.

“Off,” he panted. “Everything off!”

“Grunt, grunt,” said the caveman.

He pulled his shirt over his head.

I tugged off my bracelets and unbuttoned my jeans. After kicking off my flip-flops, I pushed my jeans off, leaving on my underwear. He could have the honors with that.

Taking my face in his hands, he dragged me back, once more mating his mouth to mine. I started tugging at his belt buckle, finally fumbling it undone. After opening his belt and fly, I pushed his dark blue Dickies over his perfect bubble butt.

They dropped…to his boots.

“Fuck!” he roared, stooping to unlace them.

He hopped on one foot at a time to yank his boots off. All the while, I was cracking up. By the time he got his socks off and kicked his pants away from himself, I was holding my sides. They were aching so bad from my laughter.

He grabbed my waist and lifted me before tossing me onto the bed and pouncing on top of me. His mouth effectively silenced my laughter. Wiggling his hips, he situated himself snugly between my legs and ground his throbbing hard-on against me.

The feel of his nearly naked body pinning me down beneath him was heaven. As he pressed his burning torso and chest into mine, I snaked my arms around him, tightly clasping him to me. He trailed kisses down my neck and to my breasts, kissing, licking, and sucking on each one. His hands squeezed and massaged them, making them swell and ache deliciously.