ponytail?--and looked up at him. Another giggle rippled through her, and damn it, she blushed as she looked past him to the open window.
Well, hell. He'd forgotten about their visitors. No doubt they'd gotten an earful, and even if they hadn't... He felt his own ears burn.
Which made Kennedy giggle more. Then she took his hand and led him further into the house.
He shook off his post-climax haze--how could she be so clear-headed after what they'd just done?--when they walked into the kitchen. The peeling linoleum was gone, the wood floors bare and sanded.
"I thought I'd better wait to refinish them until I talked to you. It's a lot of work, and I didn't want to do something you didn't want done."
He acknowledged that with a grunt, noting that she'd done a thorough job--even the bits by the cabinets were prepared.
And the cabinets themselves had been sanded, all the thick paint gone, leaving a vintage look that he considered keeping. The wallpaper was gone, too, the walls smooth beneath. And she had a kitchen table sitting in the curve of the window. A dorm-sized refrigerator was on the counter.
"When did you have the time to do all of this? Haven't you been working at the diner?"
"Sure, but when I'm here there's nothing else to do. And I owe you for letting me stay here. Come on, let me show you the bedroom."
It, too, had been sanded and de-wallpapered, and the walls were splotchy with spackle.
"I actually bought paint for in here, but didn't have the courage to use it without your say-so. It's a really beautiful blue that I think would look pretty with white trim. Very peaceful." She released his hand and walked over to paint samples taped to the wall. "See? This one. It looks really pretty when the sun shines through."
She had curtains on this window, too, the window open, a new screen. And beside the bed was a table with a lamp, and a well-worn paperback.
"Where did you get the furniture?" he asked as they made their way back to the kitchen.
"Jolene at the diner let me have it. She said it had just been in storage, so I was welcome to whatever I needed. I tried not to take advantage." She gave him a sideways look. "Is that okay?"
He wasn't sure. "And the guys outside working? Friends of yours?"
She frowned then. "It's the bus boy Andrew and his brother Aaron. They've taken out the windows, rebuilt the frames and put them back in."
"And those shorts? You wear them for their entertainment?"
Her frown deepened and she looked down at her legs. "It's been warm, I cut off a pair of my jeans. I'm not wearing them for anyone."
"You look like that, they might think they're going to get some pussy if they help out."
Her eyes widened and she stepped back. "Why? Because you did? You gave me a place to stay so I put out? Is that why you think I've been sleeping with you?"
Goddamnit. He'd gone and done it now, pissed her off. He didn't know how to rein in his jealousy. He knew she hadn't slept with anyone else, not the way she greeted him.
"And what about you?" She shoved at his chest. "Did you sleep with any buckle bunnies when you were gone? How do I know you didn't fuck around?"
He took a step toward her. "Because I wasn't home five minutes before I was inside you." And Christ, he wanted to be in her again.
Something flashed in her eyes, and her nostrils flared. He knew her well enough to know she was turned on.
"I thought you were laying claim."
"That, too." He dragged her against him and slammed his mouth over hers.
She didn't pull away, instead curled her fingers through the hair at the back of his head, tugging, punishing. Her teeth scraped his lower lip and she nipped at his tongue even as she rubbed her breasts against his chest and grabbed his cock through his jeans.
"This time, scream my name," he said against her mouth, his hand between them on her cunt before he popped the button open and slid the shorts down. He turned her around so she faced the counter, fingers
Well, hell. He'd forgotten about their visitors. No doubt they'd gotten an earful, and even if they hadn't... He felt his own ears burn.
Which made Kennedy giggle more. Then she took his hand and led him further into the house.
He shook off his post-climax haze--how could she be so clear-headed after what they'd just done?--when they walked into the kitchen. The peeling linoleum was gone, the wood floors bare and sanded.
"I thought I'd better wait to refinish them until I talked to you. It's a lot of work, and I didn't want to do something you didn't want done."
He acknowledged that with a grunt, noting that she'd done a thorough job--even the bits by the cabinets were prepared.
And the cabinets themselves had been sanded, all the thick paint gone, leaving a vintage look that he considered keeping. The wallpaper was gone, too, the walls smooth beneath. And she had a kitchen table sitting in the curve of the window. A dorm-sized refrigerator was on the counter.
"When did you have the time to do all of this? Haven't you been working at the diner?"
"Sure, but when I'm here there's nothing else to do. And I owe you for letting me stay here. Come on, let me show you the bedroom."
It, too, had been sanded and de-wallpapered, and the walls were splotchy with spackle.
"I actually bought paint for in here, but didn't have the courage to use it without your say-so. It's a really beautiful blue that I think would look pretty with white trim. Very peaceful." She released his hand and walked over to paint samples taped to the wall. "See? This one. It looks really pretty when the sun shines through."
She had curtains on this window, too, the window open, a new screen. And beside the bed was a table with a lamp, and a well-worn paperback.
"Where did you get the furniture?" he asked as they made their way back to the kitchen.
"Jolene at the diner let me have it. She said it had just been in storage, so I was welcome to whatever I needed. I tried not to take advantage." She gave him a sideways look. "Is that okay?"
He wasn't sure. "And the guys outside working? Friends of yours?"
She frowned then. "It's the bus boy Andrew and his brother Aaron. They've taken out the windows, rebuilt the frames and put them back in."
"And those shorts? You wear them for their entertainment?"
Her frown deepened and she looked down at her legs. "It's been warm, I cut off a pair of my jeans. I'm not wearing them for anyone."
"You look like that, they might think they're going to get some pussy if they help out."
Her eyes widened and she stepped back. "Why? Because you did? You gave me a place to stay so I put out? Is that why you think I've been sleeping with you?"
Goddamnit. He'd gone and done it now, pissed her off. He didn't know how to rein in his jealousy. He knew she hadn't slept with anyone else, not the way she greeted him.
"And what about you?" She shoved at his chest. "Did you sleep with any buckle bunnies when you were gone? How do I know you didn't fuck around?"
He took a step toward her. "Because I wasn't home five minutes before I was inside you." And Christ, he wanted to be in her again.
Something flashed in her eyes, and her nostrils flared. He knew her well enough to know she was turned on.
"I thought you were laying claim."
"That, too." He dragged her against him and slammed his mouth over hers.
She didn't pull away, instead curled her fingers through the hair at the back of his head, tugging, punishing. Her teeth scraped his lower lip and she nipped at his tongue even as she rubbed her breasts against his chest and grabbed his cock through his jeans.
"This time, scream my name," he said against her mouth, his hand between them on her cunt before he popped the button open and slid the shorts down. He turned her around so she faced the counter, fingers
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