Can't Get Enough (Skyland, #3)

by Kennedy Ryan

“I don’t remember you talking about your grandfather having Alzheimer’s.”

And they were together three years.. Right right

I’ve been forcing myself to not look down there where Hendrix stands alone, but now I can’t stop myself. Not because she’s beautiful. She definitely is, but that’s not why I sat down beside her at the bar. After watching her enthrall a group of people into dancing to her tune, I was drawn to the woman who so effortlessly compelled half the people at my party to eat from the palm of her hand.

I can’t help but think that maybe beauty’s never wasted and maybe Maverick’s right. Nothing ever happens by chance.

“You really don’t want kids?” The shock on her face doesn’t surprise me. I’m used to it. Why is it so hard to believe there are women in the world who don’t want to act as host for a human who may never fully appreciate their sacrifices, drains their hard-earned money, and forces them to make the difficult choices that men, even as fathers, never seem to face?

“He did tell me from the beginning,” Zere admits, her eyes unfocused and filling with tears. “I knew, but there was this little voice in the back of my head that said I could change his mind. That he’d love me enough to choose me over…” Over his own happiness?

She giggles. “You mean that I might think the two of you had something going? That’s hilarious, Hen.” Hilarious?

Oh !

“You’re not his type at all.” “Not his type?” I should leave it there. I don’t want her thinking I am his type. “What do you mean?” “Well, he likes women who are…” She must hear her feet squishing in the shit she just stepped in.

She really wants me to hate this womaan ijbol

“There’s nothing perfect about that woman.”

College rivals mayhaps..

some clients don’t share this much sexual information with their managers.” “That don’t sound fun at all,” she bemoans on their behalf. “We not like them.” God, I wish we were.

That I—the kid who used to collect dirty towels and pass around Gatorade and do whatever grunt work they found for me—am going to buy the team that has been in his family for decades right from under him.

“No, it’s been…” I am lost and helpless, but brace myself for the tornado I have to walk headlong into. “Mama, Daddy’s gone. Remember?”

This is when you need to just lie girlie..

“I’ve already told you I’ll be there. Whether it’s a good idea or not remains to be seen.” “Trust me. It’ll be fine.”

I’ve never been more fascinated by any woman than I am by Hendrix.

And I’m finally admitting to myself that I want Hendrix. Bad.

“What are you thinking about?” All the ways to win you over.

“I’m calling you this week,”

lashes that hide anything she might be feeling from me. “Why?” she asks. I flash her the buccaneer’s grin I reserve for when something I desire very badly is within my grasp. “Because I want to.”

Because I want to was not a good enough reason to call. But did I answer the first time Maverick rang? And the second and the third? Why, yes, I fucking did.

“Has he ever let you put your finger up his ass?” I ask, recalling what Imani said about prostate orgasms. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Josiah says, turning on his heel to leave as soon as he enters the kitchen. “I want no part of this conversation.”

It’s a houseful, and everyone belongs to someone else. Except me.

Seeing my friends makes me realize that I do want that someday with the right person. Maybe I have wanted it for a while and not acknowledged it because I know I’m not settling for no trash man. And let’s face it, most men are trash.

“Order enough for two. I could come over.” “I’m not inviting you over,”

“I didn’t grow up a billionaire, Hendrix,” he says dryly. “Oh, no. You grew up the son of a professional basketball player. Nearly impoverished.

“I need a few minutes to get my hair at least presentable for going outside.” “You know I’ll take you however.”

I’d love to be invited up there someday. To be invited into her bed. Into her life.

We got a ways to go before we get there, but that’s okay. Hendrix will be worth it.

That’s my girl. She just doesn’t know it yet.

“I have a dilemma, and I was hoping you could help me.” My brows bunch, and I’m surprised by the direction of the conversation. “What’s the dilemma?” “How do I get you to give me a chance?

The look in his eyes intoxicates me. It’s a cocktail of affection and desire and impatience. “Hen,” he says, leaning forward so his breath mists my lips. “You’re telling me something that fees like this is irrelevant?”

I wish I could say I’m not a willing participant, but that’s impossible since I’m sucking on his bottom lip and gripping his neck to pull him in deeper.

I didn’t think I’d want this again, a relationship yet, but I met you. That changed everything.”

“Because I’m just getting started.”

She needed therapy to reach that conclusion? Is that what’s passing as a breakthrough these days? Note to self. Pay my therapist more.

“You didn’t tell me Bell was coming,” Charles grumbles, his posture straightening. “Because it’s not a big deal,”

Oh but i hurd-

“You’re wrong. About me having nothing to lose,” I say. “I could lose you.” She glances up at me over her shoulder and says, “You’d have to have me first.” Before I can respond, she strides to the door, jerks it open, and is gone.

I hate my inner voice sometimes. She’s such a bitch. Don’t let me get away with nothing.

“Thank you for trusting me, Gorgeous.” He leans up and whispers against my lips. “You won’t regret it.”

“I’m gonna shower,” I tell him. “While you serve me.” He gives me a wry look. “You’re pushing it.” “Am I?” I ask coyly. His smile fades to a soft affection. “No.”

I’m in a relationship with a man who buys his father an oceanside Malibu property “to have him close.” And he wants me to get to know his dad. And he wants me to spend a week at his home. And he wants to teach me how to surf. Wait. I’m in a relationship.

“Before you have to take care of her, let me take care of you a little.”

I gulp and breathe out, “I want to know everything about you, Hendrix.” The words ring with such truth and carry such weight that she must hear, must feel it, too.

“Fucking a billion dollars makes you real bold, doesn’t it? A cash security blanket comes with spreading your legs for a rich man.” “You would know.”

“Being in a relationship means helping each other, Hendrix. Are you saying you don’t want to help me when I need it?”

WHITES DO IT ALL THE TIME

“I don’t want to take that from you, but I also don’t want you worrying about people thinking you’re using me to get ahead. I’ve learned to block out the noise of other people’s opinions and live my life the way I want to. The way that makes me happy, and you make me happy, Hen.”

“Hey, Zee,” I say, sitting on a stool at the countertop in Hendrix’s kitchen.

“I was a model, Maverick. I was on People’s Most Beautiful list. How do you go from me to her?” “Wait a damn minute, Zere. I don’t know who to feel most insulted for.

“I’m just saying a man like you can have anyone he wants.” “And I do.”

“You were the best for me and the fact that you’ve already moved on and given that to someone else breaks my heart.” “I’m sorry.” “That’s not nearly enough.”

Girl STAND UPPPP

coulda told her it wouldn’t last.”

Like when you realize the woman walking toward you, covered in sand and soaked by sun, wearing a smile more breathtaking than the horizon—that woman, her you’d probably do anything to keep.