Breakout

by Elise Faber

  “I’ll be okay with it,” he interrupted.

  “After we talk,” she repeated. “Then you can decide if you want to see where things go with us—”

  “I will.”

  Smothering a sigh, she fixed him with a glare. “After, Kevin,” she said.

  A hand on her cheek, cupping her jaw, and as she was reveling in the feel of his slightly roughened palm caressing her skin, she missed his mouth getting close. But then his lips were on hers, and his tongue was sliding in to tangle with hers, and . . . it felt so fucking good.

  Heat flared in her center, scorching out through her lips. Pleasure burst to life, sliding slow and liquid between her thighs. She rose on tiptoe needing to be closer, to feel him flush against her, and Kevin seemed to know exactly what she was wanting because suddenly his hand was around her waist, yanking her close, the palm on her face angling her head just right before drifting back to weave into her hair. Hard to soft, his masculine spice teasing her nose, wet and hot and—

  She pressed closer, leg coming up to hitch around his hip.

  Which was the precise moment he began to slow the kiss, softening his lips, gentling the hand around her waist, slipping his other out from her hair. “Fucking incredible,” he murmured, resting his forehead against hers. “Your mouth is so fucking sweet, baby, but this isn’t exactly where I want to be when I lose control with you.”

  Rebecca blinked and leaned back, realized she was pressed firmly against the wall next to her office door.

  This was the second time she’d found herself in such a position, and she had to say, it wasn’t a bad place to be, Kevin’s hard frame against hers, his hands on her body, the evidence of his desire pressing against her stomach.

  He groaned. “Baby, don’t look at me like that.”

  She blinked again, sucked in a breath that had Kevin jumping away.

  “Don’t do that either,” he muttered.

  “Do what?”

  “Breathe deep enough to press those glorious tits against my chest.”

  “Ew.” She’d never liked that word.

  “Breasts?” he asked.

  “Better,” she murmured. “But anyway, I like them rubbing against your chest.”

  Another groan, and this time he flopped back against the wall next to her. “That’s precisely the problem. I’m trying to convince you that I’m old enough and mature enough to be with you, not pop a boner like a teenager.”

  She grinned, rolled to one shoulder to face him, then said, as serious as she could manage, “I like it when you pop a boner.”

  He snorted.

  She snorted.

  Then they were both laughing.

  By the time they got themselves under control, she’d seen several heads pop out of doorways, including a few from the locker room down the hall. She saw that Kevin noticed as well, but neither of them acknowledged Brit’s thumbs up or Mike’s amused smirk.

  “Dinner?” he asked for what might have been the fiftieth time in the last month.

  She shook her head, saw his face drop.

  “Drinks,” she said and watched those eyes get stormy, his brows draw together. “Then if you decide that you really do want to deal with my shit, we can order in.”

  “I will.”

  “If Kevin,” she murmured. “If.”

  “I—”

  She stomped her foot. “You coming back to my place or not?”

  A hard look, probably ready to push her again.

  But nope, not happening.

  She’d decided.

  Her place or they were right back where they started.

  Luckily, Kev seemed to understand that she was deadly serious because he picked up her bag where it must have fallen to the floor, slung it over his shoulder, then took her hand. “Drinks,” he said softly. “Then dinner.”

  “I—”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box.

  Her jaw dropped open. “I can’t—”

  He plunked it in her free hand. “I got it for you,” he murmured. “Regardless of what happens.” Kev nudged her shoulder. “Open it already.”

  Rebecca glanced up at him, saw the anticipation in his gaze. “You like this, don’t you?”

  “Like what?”

  “Always having me on my back foot.”

  A flash of white teeth. “I like giving you things. And I’d like to see you open this one in particular, since I normally hide around the corner out of sight, so you won’t launch it back at my head.”

  She huffed. “That was one time. And it was your lap, not your head.”

  “It was damned close to my head.”

  Only half paying attention to where he was leading her, since it was down the hall and out to the parking lot, she used the opportunity to glare at him. “First, you put it on the ground, and I stepped on it! That tart was from Maggie’s. They’re like gold and we had to throw it away—”

  “I left another one on your desk the next day.”

  She ignored him and continued. “Second, you laughed when I stormed in, and I’d almost broken an ankle. I—ack!”

  Since she hadn’t been paying attention to anything other than their general direction, being abruptly lifted into the air took her by surprise. What also took her by surprise was finding her ass on the hood of a car and Kevin between her thighs a heartbeat later.

  Lucky she’d worn pants that day.

  Or maybe not, her vagina said. Okay, not so much her vagina as the part of her brain that had spent the last month of her life lusting after Kevin. Because a skirt would mean he could hike it up and slid her panties to the side and—

  They were in a public parking lot.

  Jesus, woman, she needed to get it together.

  Fingers on her cheek, a thumb brushing against her bottom lip. “What just went through your mind?”

  “Nothing,” she said quickly.

  “You sure?”

  “Yes,” she snapped and held up the tiny box that he’d shoved into her hand a few minutes before. “Do you want me to open this or not?”

  His lips twitched, and heaven help her if he laughed—

  “Open it.”

  “I’m not amused—”

  Warm hands closed over hers. “Open it, baby.”

  She shut up and pulled off the lid then promptly had to look away and blink rapidly so she wouldn’t launch herself into Kevin’s arms and start bawling again. Once per lifetime was enough, okay?

  Her eyes flicked down, and her lungs seized for a second time.

  Fuck.

  How had he known?

  How could he possibly know?

  Sitting in the white cardboard box that fit in the palm of her hand was something she’d never mentioned to another person in her life.

  “H-how did you know?” she murmured.

  It wasn’t expensive, though she’d been admiring it for months now on Etsy. The simple wood and resin necklace was as beautiful as it had been in the pictures, and that was saying something because the photographs on the store’s page had been freaking gorgeous. But more than that, and what stole her breath, was the fact that Kevin had somehow known.

  “How?” she asked again, running her finger along the chain.

  How could he have known she wanted it?

  “I saw it on your cell’s screen awhile back.”

  And that admission didn’t make it any easier for her to breath. “And you tracked it down?”

  His expression was warm. “You looked at it a lot.”

  She had.

  Waffling because although it wasn’t expensive, it reminded her of the mountains where she and her parents had vacationed the summer after she’d been declared in remission, the summer before her mother had gotten sick, three years before her father had succumbed to the same pervasive illness. The circle of resin was filled with a miniature landscape of trees and a riverbank and wasn’t like anything she had in her wardrobe.

  Thus the waffling.

  If sh
e bought it, would she wear it?

  Or maybe, more realistically, could she bring herself to wear it at all? Would she find the courage when it reminded her so much of that glorious month in the mountains, of hiking rocky trails and dipping her feet into water so cold that it curled her toes, of campfires and gooey s’mores with marshmallow and melted chocolate dripping down her chin. She could still feel the cool air of those late nights on her skin, see the wide-open skies and more stars in that sky than she ever imagined existed.

  Being so torn, she hadn’t bought it.

  But Kevin had.

  So, blinking rapidly and swallowing hard and staring at the stained pavement until her vision was no longer watery.

  “Want me to put it on you?”

  It didn’t go with her outfit in the least, but she nodded and when he hooked the pendant around her neck, the weight of it was so comforting that she needed another moment. He made her so damn emotional, flayed her open and made her vulnerable.

  But then he cupped her cheek, tugged her close to his chest, and held her tightly.

  And that was what made the vulnerability bearable.

  Because as much as he’d pushed her over the last month, not so sneakily letting her dismiss him, he’d never pushed too hard, never dismissed her feelings or been cruel.

  He just . . . hadn’t let her ignore him.

  Which had been beyond annoying, of course, but he’d also taught her to trust. For the first time since her parents had passed, she actually trusted someone enough to let them in, to risk being hurt if it didn’t work out, and because she knew that no matter how things turned out, he’d still take care with her emotions.

  Kevin had earned her trust, and that was something special.

  Then whether it was because of that or because of the necklace, or perhaps it had just been due to the full month of sweet and kind and persistent, Rebecca didn’t know. What she did know was that instead of waiting until she was back at her apartment, instead of waiting until she had a generous pour of Cab in her glass and a beer in Kev’s hand, she just blurted out the truth.

  “I can’t have kids. And you want them. And I can’t give them to you. And I want them. And you’re young and gorgeous and wonderful and—a-and y-you deserve th-them a-and—”

  Arms banding around her, lifting her, cuddling her close to a strong chest. Soft words, gentle reassurances.

  And Rebecca was crying again.

  And somehow, it was okay.

  Fourteen

  Kevin

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Her sobs were destroying him.

  He’d crammed them into the back of his car, not anywhere he’d ever planned on sitting when he’d bought it, but a space he’d definitely put more consideration to in the future. Not that having Rebecca pressed flush against him would ever be something he’d complain about under normal circumstances, but with those heart-wrenching sobs tearing her apart and him unable to hold her and stroke her as he wanted, the tight quarters were frustrating.

  Kevin could do little more than gather her tightly to his chest and ride out the tears.

  “Let it out, baby,” he murmured. “It’s okay. Let it all out.”

  And she did, her broken cries pouring from her chest, vibrating against his, her pain seeping into the air around them, scalding his skin as he turned over what she’d told him.

  She couldn’t have kids.

  Was that really all of it?

  Her big secret? The reason that she’d pulled away so fiercely?

  Because she couldn’t have a baby?

  There were other ways to make a family. Adoption, surrogacy. Fuck, he could give her a house of furbabies if that was what would make her happy. All he knew was that he wanted Rebecca, wanted her in his life, wanted her to feel complete and fulfilled, and he would do whatever it took to make that happen.

  As he was processing her admission, trying to sort out why she was upset—aside from the obvious because he wasn’t an idiot and understood that she was grieving not being able to do something that most women could—her tears began to slow, her sobs calm, and she glanced up at him with wounded chocolate eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

  He brushed back her hair, gently wiped each cheek. “Sweetheart, you don’t ever have to apologize for telling me the truth or for showing emotion.”

  She swallowed hard. “That was a big bomb to drop and a lot more than showing emotion.”

  “It was you, and that means it was perfect.”

  A sniff. “Don’t do that.”

  Kev frowned. “Do what?”

  “Don’t be sweet, or I might lose it again.”

  He attempted and failed to hold back a smile, which earned him a smack, but since that smack was followed by a tight hug from the woman who’d become his, he just snagged her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.

  She sighed, cuddled close, and relaxed against his chest.

  “Was it . . . recent?”

  “What?” Rebecca leaned back slightly to meet his gaze.

  “Did you just find this out?”

  Frozen. She went absolutely frozen, face paling, shoulders stiffening, and fuck she was going to pull away again and then he’d have to start at the beginning to regain her trust—

  “No,” she said. “No, it wasn’t recent.”

  He hesitated to ask the next question, thinking that perhaps it was time to head for her apartment for that drink before he began pressing her for more details.

  Her voice was sad. “I found out when I was fifteen,” she said. “But I didn’t fully grasp what I lost until I was older.” Eyes on his. “I shoved it down and ignored it and just got on with my life . . . until I met someone I actually wished I could have a future with.”

  The truth was in her gaze.

  Him.

  Until she’d met him.

  The weight of that admission took his breath away.

  “Fifteen?” he asked, carefully resting his forehead against hers.

  “Acute myeloid leukemia,” she whispered, and his gut twisted itself into knots. “I was diagnosed at thirteen. Went through treatment, entered remission, and found out I was infertile at fifteen.”

  “God, baby,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I was lucky. I’m alive.”

  There was something else she wasn’t telling him, but before he could ask, she pulled away, opened the rear passenger’s side door and got out, eyes glued to her feet. Still in those sexy as shit heels, but he wasn’t focused on her gorgeous legs or fantastic ass; he was worried about the fragility in her stance.

  “Baby.”

  When she didn’t immediately look at him, he shoved himself across the small ass back seat and out the open door.

  Fingers around her wrist. “Baby.”

  Eyes still on the ground.

  “Baby.”

  Stubborn one that she was, Rebecca didn’t budge. And so, Kevin did what he had to do. He spun her to face him and stole that pretty mouth. Instinct drove his kiss, his gut telling him that this wasn’t the time for gentle and sweet, but rather the time for him to kiss her with every bit of emotion he possessed. She needed to know he wanted her desperately and that not one thing she’d just told him had changed that fact.

  So, his mouth wasn’t gentle and neither was his hold.

  He nipped at her bottom lip, tongue sliding inside her mouth when she gasped, stroking along hers while his arms banded around her, one sliding low to cup her ass, to encourage her closer. Hips tilting, cock aching to grind against her, Kevin rotated, pressing her against the car. He knew she felt how hard he was, knew she liked it because she did that thing with her leg lifting up, wrapping around his hips and driving him to the edge of insanity.

  Never going to stop.

  He was never going to stop kissing this woman.

  Fucking never.

  Except, if she pushed him away. Which she did. Two palms flattening on his chest and shoving firmly.r />
  “Baby—” he began, leaning back down, needing her mouth, needing her to know that she wasn’t broken or missing something, that she was perfect and incredible and—

  “Air,” she gasped. “I need air.”

  Oh.

  Come to that, he was sucking wind, too.

  “Okay, sweetheart,” he said, opening the passenger’s side door and coaxing her to sit down. “You get your air. I’ll drive.” Leaning over her, he buckled her seat belt then paused, waiting until she met his eyes. “This changes absolutely nothing between us.”

  Her lips parted.

  “No,” he growled. “Nothing. We see where this goes. And it’s gonna go far because you’re you and that’s to say, you’re fucking incredible, and I’m me.” He pressed his lips to hers. “Which means that when I see something I want, someone who is as beautiful on the inside as the outside, a woman who’s tough and fierce and brilliantly smart, I am not stupid enough to let her go.”

  “But—”

  “No matter what.” He brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “Now, breathe, baby. Get your fix of air because I’m going to kiss you again soon, and I’m not stopping for something as ridiculous as oxygen.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

  “Sure doesn’t.” He pressed his lips to her nose, backed out of the car, and closed the door. Then he rounded the hood, got in his own seat, and buckled in, wondering if he’d said enough, if he’d done enough to show this woman how special and wonderful she was, or if she’d retreat all over again.

  But some of his worry was unfounded because after he’d backed out of the parking spot, Rebecca’s hand slipped across the console and she laced her fingers through his.

  That was the moment Kevin knew everything would be okay.

  Fifteen

  Rebecca

  Embarrassing as shit.

  Twice in the last two decades she’s lost her shit, and twice it’d had been with the man sitting next to her.

  Ugh.

  And the worst part? He was nonplussed about it. Like it was absolutely no big deal that a woman had dropped a bomb, fallen apart on him, then dropped another bomb.

  Who was Kevin Hayes?