Larger Than Life Alison Kent (read out loud books .TXT) 📖

breeze off the desert. He smelled like she liked her pillows to smell. He smelled like the best times she'd had in her life. And he kissed damn good for a white boy. "You don't have to talk big to impress me, baby. You know I'm going to let you into my pants."

"And I can't think of a better place to be," he said, coming around and hopping onto the table beside her. He looped an arm over her shoulders, and she leaned into his strong, solid body and sighed. " 'Course, you sound too tired to be getting kinky."

"I am tired, but I'm all over you and the kink." She rubbed one hand up and down his thigh, realizing how great her mahogany skin looked against his worn denim. She could probably get close to the same contrast by working in copper and lapis lazuli rather than the turquoise she most often used.

He held her tighter, leaned his head over onto hers, rubbed his cheek up and down. "We'd probably best stick to public displays of affection for now."

"Why's that?" She squeezed his thigh. "You still scared of all my deep dark secrets?"

"Nah. I can't stay long. My dad's supposed to be coming out here later."

Candy rolled her eyes. "Neva's gonna love that."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking. Seems he thinks there's a girl from E.T. hiding out here."

She pulled away, looked at him from the side, at his thick brown hair on the shaggy side of sexy, at his eyes that were never the same shade of green, shaking her head when he nodded. "Jesus Lord, I am so sick of people thinking this is some sort of sinister halfway house or something. If you're talking about Liberty Mitchell, then yes. She's here. Neva hired her. She'snot hiding her."

"Huh," Spencer grunted. "Too bad someone didn't let her folks know. Keep the cavalry from being called out."

Candy bit down on the bad stuff she wanted to say. "Well, maybe the little brat might've thought to do that herself and save us from being hassled by the big bad sheriff."

The minute that followed was uncomfortable with Spencer's silence, before he took a breath and said, "Dad's not hassling you, Candy. He's just doing his job."

Candy sighed, leaned forward and away from the cradle of his body. It was hard sometimes to remember where she was and all the reasons why. That Yancey Munroe wasn't out to bust her ass because she fit a profile, because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Because her background and situation and skin color made it hard for law enforcement to believe she wouldn't be involved in trouble.

Because she had been in the past.

She stared out across the dusky yellows and rich summer browns of the horizon, measuring the distance by the fence posts and lines of barbed wire. "I know, baby. I'm just reacting the way I've reacted to cops all my life. What I've been through tends to color my judgment and not in a good way."

Spencer was silent for several minutes, his palm rubbing circles between her shoulder blades. It felt so good to have him touch her without wanting anything, without asking or demanding or forcing. He did that all the time. Made her feel so cherished. Important. Valuable.

And then there was the fact of her back hurting from all the work she'd been doing. The bending and hunching with never enough stretching between. She pushed off the table, moved to the bench to sit between his spread legs. He took the hint and began to use his big hands the way she so loved, massaging her neck and shoulders.

"You know, Candy, you can talk about what happened to bring you out here. It's not like I can't keep my mouth shut. I wouldn't tell any of the guys, and I sure as hell wouldn't tell my parents."

"I know, baby. And you're sweet to care, but you'll be leaving soon and—"

"Damn it, Candy. I'm going to school. I'm not leaving you."

"School." She sighed with envy. "Where the whole world is going to open up to you, and you'll have the pick of any girl on campus, being the big football star that you are. I won't be the exotic fish in the sea anymore. I'll just be that black girl back home."

He spit out a big mouthful of nasty words. "I swear, Candy, you are so full of crap sometimes."

"Does it make you want to hit me, Spencer?" She looked over her shoulder. "Do you ever want to backhand all that crap right out of me?"

His eyes widened beneath his frown. "What the hell are you talking about? Christ, why would I want to hit you?"

"And that, sweet Spencer Munroe, is why I'm so out of my mind over you." She reached up, patted his chest. "Too many men in my past and my mama's past liked to talk with their hands."

"I thought you liked me talking with my hands."

"Oh, baby. I do." She kneeled on the bench between his knees and took his face in her hands. His eyes were like polished jade; his hair almost as dark as her own. His lashes and cheekbones were enough to make a woman cry.

She felt her own tears threaten to fall. "You're one of a kind, baby. And down the road there is going to be some girl who deserves everything you have to offer. But I'm not crazy enough to think that girl is me."

"Why? Because you're five years older? Because you're black?" His nostrils almost flared. "Because I'm a stupid country bumpkin from the middle of nowhere?"

She stared, backed away. "Why the hell would you think something like that?"

"Because you won't tell me what happened to you. Because you're blowing me off. It's like you think I'm good enough to sleep with, but that's all. That I'm not good enough for anything more."

"That's not true, Spencer. Not true at all." She sniffed, tried to find anything she