I thought I'd been kissed before, but I was so wrong. Those boys made weak bumbling attempts compared to what Reed did with his mouth. He explored mine, his tongue dodging, licking, and seeking. The kiss went on and on, his hand threaded through my hair, his other smoothed over my ear then across my jaw. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against mine, his heavy breath warm with the delicious smell that matched his taste.

"That wasn't a very good idea," he said without pulling away.

"Then why did you do it?" A low breathy whisper had replaced my real voice.

He leaned back, the intensity in his eyes captivated me. "Honestly, I don't know. You're still too young for fuck's sake."

"For two more months and since you're such an old man at twenty-five, I'm sure you'll be arrested for cradle robbing." Jon had told me Reed's age and other interesting tidbits about Mr. Baseball Man.

He released my hair, moving his hands up my arms until both rested against my throat, his thumbs running along my jaw. "I would have been arrested if I'd done what I wanted to last night. Seeing you taped to the chair was sexy as hell."

My heart fluttered and a tiny smile curved my lips. "You're kinky."

He groaned. "You're impossible."

"What if I'm kinky?"

"What if you get out of the car and walk inside your trailer without looking back? I shouldn't have kissed you."

It hurt, even if I knew he was right. I wasn't one of the raving beauties he was accustomed to, but I could hold my own. Where our worlds separated was my trailer and his mansion. His career and my dead-end job. His goodness and my burglarizing his home. I opened the car door and got out, walking quickly to my front door without looking back. He didn't stop me or give me whatever it was in the trunk he'd mentioned. That was okay, because I didn't want anything to remind me of what I couldn't have.

***

Jon leveled me with a stare; I knew he'd heard Reed's car, but he didn't mention it. "You did the right thing, sis."

He was such a great kid, who happened to be a man because of circumstances. He acted nothing like his age and that was sad in itself. I cooked a special dinner of mac-n-cheese and meatballs. Jon's and Bitsy's favorite. It was something our mother fed us when she'd taken time to cook. My meatballs were the frozen variety, unlike her homemade ones, but it worked.

"Don Gato has a belly ache and doesn't feel good tonight." Bitsy's eyes beseeched me to do something.

I knew the old Tomcat had nine lives and had probably used up eight of them, but he'd been with us since we moved into our dilapidated tin box.

"He'll be fine, Bitsy. I'm sure he ate a sour mouse or something."

Her eyes lit up. "Are mice sour?"

Jon laughed and ruffled her hair. "You tell us. I think Jaycee put one in our dinner."

"She did not."

"Did so."

Was I just thinking Jon was growing up? "Okay, let's get the table cleared off and get our homework and studying finished. I think we're on a really good chapter of Harry Potter and it's your turn to read, Jon."

"Sure, but I need help with my geometry. How come polygons come so easy to you?"

"It's all about the formulas you never take the time to learn." We'd had this discussion many times.

"Why should I when I have you to help me out?"

"You won't have me in college. Let's get started. He who should not be named awaits us." I ignored the tightening of Jon's expression after my mention of college. We weren't going there tonight. He was getting out of this life if it killed me and then he would get Bitsy out.

We performed our nightly ritualscleaned the dishes, finished our homework, and sat down on the couch with a book. I had given up my longing for a television years ago. Reading gave us everything we needed and the library provided free entertainment. It also reminded us of our mother. When she wasn't out tramping around looking for the perfect man to solve all her problems, she loved to read to us at night. Her soft voice wrapped us into the world of history, adventure, and fantasy. Mom was so far from perfect, but we had good memories and I was a poor substitute for her. But even with my failed attempt at giving us a small amount of financial stability, we would make it.

***

The following day I worked the late shift. We closed at ten and then had an hour of cleanup and prep for the next day's crew, which included me because I was on the early schedule. I took any and all hours I could. For a dead-end job, Tasty Burger wasn't that bad. I liked the people I worked with even though they tended to be unreliable. Their undependability gave me more hours and I needed the money. I spoke to Dwaine, my manager, about working only days so I could look for an evening job.

"Have you thought about management, Jaycee? It's long hours, but it pays better than you make right now. I know a long-term career at Tasty Burger isn't anyone's dream, but you wouldn't need to go back and forth between two jobs."

I liked Dwaine. He was in his fifties, divorced, and a recovering alcoholic. He blew a great career, but still managed to smile and enjoy his job. He always called me first when he needed help, and gave me Christmas gifts for Jon and Bitsy, saying they were from Santa. His grown children didn't have a lot to do with him. He'd told me his story one Christmas Eve when we worked alone. I invited him to my small celebration the following day, but he declined. He told me he worked the AA hotline all day and night on Christmas because it was hard for a lot of people like him. Sober, Dwaine was one of the few good men I'd ever met. I hoped I never saw the side of him that had ruined his life.

I locked the front door behind me, leaving Dwaine inside to finish up. I needed to catch the bus. It was no warmer the night before and I really missed my hoodie.

Footsteps approached. I took a step back, ready to turn and run toward the front door.

"It's me, Reed. I brought you a jacket." His voice was so low and sexy. He must practice it for hours. No one could just sound that good.

"You brought me a jacket? Here at Tasty Burger? Do you know what time it is?"

He didn't answer me until the warm material surrounded my shoulders. God, it smelled like him.

Mild irritation was in his voice. "I know it's too late for you to be out here alone."

I laughed at that.

Different worlds.

"Is this your idea of some old Chinese proverb- burglarizing your house means you owe the burglar protection?"

I couldn't see his smile in the shadows, but I heard it by the lighter sound of his voice. "Could be. Come on, I'm driving you home."

I dug in my heels. "This needs to stop."

"What needs to stop-this?"

Dammit, he did it again. He grabbed the sides of the jacket and drew me into his body. His lips were cool and I realized he'd waited outside for a while. Then, I forgot all about anything but his mouth because his tongue was hot. He ran it across my lower lip, licking me like cream before seeking more. His taste hadn't changed. If anything, it was muskier, hotter, and oh so addictive. Trapped between the jacket and his solid chest, my hands went around his waist, feeling solid muscle beneath my fingers. I couldn't thinkall I could do was experience.

Pulling back, he did the forehead to forehead thing again. Even that was sexy and perfect. Everything about him was perfect, which is why I knew he wasn't for me.

"I'm taking you home." He opened the jacket enough to slip my arms into the sleeves, zipping it after arranging me to his liking.

He gave a brief tug on my hand and I sighed loudly, but it didn't stop him from pulling me along.

"Can I drive?"

He didn't even look at me. "You don't have a license, so no."

"You would let me drive if I did?"

"No."

"You're an ass."

"Probably, but I also like my Porsche in one piece, thank you very much."

Pounding music prevailed the entire ride to my trailer. Didn't the man listen to anything but loud heavy metal? So maybe he wasn't perfect.