Karma by Charity Ferrell

Author:Charity Ferrell [Ferrell, Charity]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Published: 2014-06-03T23:00:00+00:00

I stretched my legs against the cold leather of Dalton’s couch. “I need to get home,” I muttered sleepily. We'd been lying on his couch for hours watching TV, too exhausted to get up and do anything else. Asher had called and wasn’t too happy about my sleeping arrangements. I didn't blame him. He was just looking out for me because I obviously did a pretty sucky job at doing it myself.

Dalton pressed his moist lips to my shoulder. “I’ll run you home to shower and change, but we’ve got somewhere to be later,” he replied, wrapping his arms around me. I leaned against him, my back getting closer to his chest while I rested between his legs. His arm darted out and ran across my bare stomach, causing goose bumps to scatter across my skin. Instead of putting my clothes from the last night back on, I was only wearing a bra and a pair of Dalton's gym shorts I snagged from a drawer.

As much as I wanted to deny my attraction to Dalton, I knew us being together was bound to happen again. What I was surprised about was the reaction he always seemed to get out of me. Dalton unleashed feelings in me I’d never experienced before. Whenever my girlfriends would talk about how much they enjoyed sex, I'd never been able to share my own experiences. Sure, I liked messing around with guys, but I'd never had anything feel as satisfying as it did with Dalton. I'd never melted at someone's touch; feeling like my body was loosening up and losing control. He was giving me that, what I'd been craving all along. It wasn’t only about sex, either. He made me feel special, he made me feel wanted and he liked me for me. Not too many people saw the girl behind the nasty gossip with the mom from the trailer park.

“We have somewhere to be?” I questioned, lifting my chin and looking up at him. Morning stubble scattered across his cheeks, and his hair was messy from being tortured by my hands in my moment of pleasure. “Please tell me it’s not work. It’s Saturday, and you bet your ass I’m not going in on a weekend."

I felt his chest move as he chuckled. “It’s a surprise,” he answered, squeezing my side and trailing his fingers down my arm. “I promise it’s not work.”

“The only surprises I like are the ones that come in a gift-wrapped box.” I absolutely despised surprises. Every single time someone said they had a surprise for me; it ended up being a surprise from hell. My mom said it was a surprise when she told me she was marrying Kenneth. She'd also told me the same thing when she'd informed me we were moving in with him and I had to switch schools. Since then, the word ‘surprise’ came with nothing but pure dread.

“You’ve got to trust me, babe.”

I shook my head. “I don’t trust very many people.” Everyone always broke their promises at some point, so I’d learned never to get my hopes up.

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