Aw shit.
“Is Penelope here?” Pen’s sister asked in way of greeting, her high heels clipping briskly up the steps.
The woman gave off an air of confidence that most men would probably find intimidating. She was pretty, not as beautiful as Pen, but easy enough on the eyes. Dressed in her power suit, she gave the impression of being a real ballbuster—the kind of woman who didn’t take no for an answer and believed her wealth entitled her to special privileges.
“Veronica, right?” Having no interest in encouraging the conversation, Kyle turned his attention back to his task and responded, “She’s not here right now.”
“Do you know if she’s gone to see her mother?”
“Not that I know of.” He shoved the empty packaging into the plastic hardware bag.
“Well, do you think you could talk to her? Get Pen to go visit her?”
Kyle wasn’t sure what dynamics were going on between Pen and her sister, or her mom for that matter, but he did know he wasn’t interested in Veronica pulling him into the middle of it. “I don’t know why you think she would listen to me. I’m just her boy-toy.”
“Aren’t you?” she challenged, her lips tugging into the faintest hint of a smile.
“Things aren’t always the way they appear. For instance, I’m sure you’re a very nice person.”
The woman laughed at the offhanded insult, eyeing him with a new level of respect. “You know what they say about people who make assumptions.” She studied him a moment longer, seeming to enjoy the verbal spar. “You know...” she leaned against the porch post, making herself comfortable. “The first time I saw you, I thought you looked familiar.”
“How’s that?” He abandoned his task and stood, turning to give her his full attention. He didn’t think Pen would appreciate showing up and finding her sister here. For whatever reason, their relationship was strained. It’d probably be best for everyone if she was gone by the time Pen arrived. “You don’t strike me as an MMA fan.”
“Now who’s making the assumptions?”
Was this woman coming onto him? He wasn’t used to coy women and found their games distasteful. He much preferred Pen’s no bullshit, what you see is what you get attitude. “Am I wrong?” he challenged.
Silence hung between them as she gave him a slow head-to-toe once-over. “No. I’m not a fan. You went to Harvard. You sat behind me in anthropology. It took me a day or two to figure out why you looked so familiar. So what’s a Harvard grad doing as a cage fighter?”
He shrugged. “I dropped out.” Kyle was used to women eyeing him. Over the years, he’d grown rather numb to it, but he was oddly uncomfortable being the recipient of Veronica’s scrutinizing gaze.
“Why would you do that?”
“You hardly know me well enough to ask that question. What’s a married woman doing hitting on her sister’s boyfriend?”
“Of the week. She’ll use you and throw you out like yesterday’s trash. That’s what she does. She can’t commit.”
Kyle was fully aware Pen had her issues. He didn’t think she’d appreciate her sister pointing them out. “A problem that apparently runs in the family.” Kyle held her unabashed stare. “How well do you know your sister?”
“Well enough.”
“Then you should know the best way to get her to do something you want probably isn’t to drop by her house unannounced and badger her. Have you ever considered that maybe there’s a reason she won’t go see her mom?”
“Do you know what it is?”
“No. And it’s not any of my business. But you might try talking to her instead of at her. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got some work to get done here.”
He held her stare until she exhaled a defeated sigh. “Fine. I’ll go. Tell her if she wants me to stop dropping by, then to start answering her phone.”
Veronica turned and left, her high heels clip-clapping on the sidewalk as she headed back to her car.
“Hey, was that my sister I just saw turning down the road?” Pen grabbed Kyle’s tool bag from the backseat, closed the car door, and headed toward the house.
“Yep. She stopped by to see if you’ve gone to visit your mom yet.”
Pen paused on the step as Kyle shot her a quick glance. “What did you tell her?”
“That she should try talking to you instead of at you.” He rose, bearing the brunt of his weight on his good leg, and met her at the steps. “And that there might be a good reason why you’re not going.” Taking the bag from her hand, he dipped his head and brushed his mouth over hers before heading back to the door.
He’d stuck up for her… Even when he didn’t know why she wasn’t going, he still gave her the benefit of the doubt and he’d defended her against Veronica. Her heart warmed and she felt herself falling just a little bit harder for him. “I bet she wasn’t happy with your response.”
“I suppose not.” He pulled the drill from his bag, changed out an attachment, and pulled the trigger, testing the battery. “I can’t believe you don’t own one of these,” he commented, changing the subject.
She let it go, grateful he didn’t want to pursue the topic of her sister any more than she did. “Really?” Pen laughed, forcing an air of levity. “Look at me, Kyle. What about me says ‘I own a screw gun?’”
He glanced at her and did a double take, his eyes making an appreciative sweep over her. The hunger in his gaze lit Pen’s nerve endings on fire, his smile playful and devious.
“Good point, babe.”
While he got to work on the door, she grabbed a lawn chair from the garage and set it up where she could enjoy the view. The heat of the day was already making sweat bleed through his threadbare T-shirt. Stretched across Kyle’s muscular back, the damp material clung to his wide shoulders, hugging those impressive lats that tapered to his narrow waist. She must have been silent too long, because after a little while, he shot a glance over his shoulder.
“What are you doing back there?”
He removed the screws and opened the door to go around the other side, leaving it open so he could still hear her.
“I was enjoying the view until you just ruined it. First my bath and now the show…”
She heard his chuckle from the entryway but could no longer see him. “Sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”
“You know, it’s awfully hot out here. You might be more comfortable if you took that shirt off.”
More laughter. “You think so?”
“It’s definitely worth a shot.”
The drill fired up a few times and then he was back in the doorway. Shirtless. Thank you, God. Muscles flexed and rolled as he pulled the door handle apart. Setting it aside, he went to work on the deadbolt.
“So…I met Regan today.”
Kyle paused, finger on the trigger. “How’d you do that?” He shot her a curious look over his glistening shoulder.
She was distracted by a bead of sweat slowly rolling down his spine and disappearing into the waistband of his jeans.
“Pen?” he snapped his fingers to get her attention.
When her eyes locked on his, it was obvious he was waiting for an answer. “He showed up at the house when I was leaving. Stormed up the steps and started pounding on the door. He saw the car in the driveway and thought you were there. Was yelling at you to—” She raised her hands to air quote “—‘open the fucking door.’ Now, I’m no rocket scientist, but I’m guessing he found out you quit the CFA.”
“That would be a good guess. My cell’s been blowing up with calls for the last hour. Haven’t answered them. Not really in the mood to get into it. Did you talk to Regan?”
“Yep. Kind of a dick, if you ask me.”
“Sorry. Regan doesn’t warm to people easily.” Kyle went back to dismantling the door handle. “I’m sorry if he was rude to you.”
“It’s all right. I’m a big girl. I can hold my own, but he seemed pretty intent on finding you.”
The knob came apart and he set it aside t
hen grabbed the new one, working to fit it together.
“He had no idea who I was.” Her gaze self-consciously darted to her hands folded in her lap. She was hesitant to bring it up. Considering everything, it shouldn’t have bothered her. But it did. “You haven’t told him about me.” Was he embarrassed of her? Maybe he didn’t plan on sticking around when this was over and figured why bother with the introduction?
Grabbing the strike-plate, he fit it over the latch. “We aren’t exactly on the friendliest of terms right now, Pen.”
“No one knows about me, Kyle.”
“Nikko knows about you.” He drilled in a screw, the whir drowning out her response. When he released the trigger, she crossed her arms over her chest and said again, “That doesn’t count.”
He drilled in another screw and went around the other side of the door. “Why doesn’t it count?”
“Because I know him through Vi.”
He buried two more screws then turned, giving her his full attention. It was hard to hold his stare with all his half-naked hotness staring back at her.
“Okay, tell me the rules here, then. And may I just say how ironic it is that we’re even having this conversation considering that, other than your sister, your family doesn’t even know I exist? And Nikko does too count. He’s one of my closest friends. The other guys at the gym also know about you, because I had to stake my claim on you the first day we stepped foot in there or Grim would have been asking you out. The only people who don’t know about us are Regan and Willow. Which is what you’re really getting at, isn’t it? You’re upset I haven’t told Willow about us.”
“She’s your sister. I want to meet her.”
Kyle exhaled a frustrated sigh and went back to work changing out the deadbolt. She’d given up hope of getting a response and was surprised when he started talking between the whirs of the power drill. “You don’t understand, Pen.” Whir… “It’s been just Willow and me—” Whir… “—for over five years.”
“Are you telling me you’ve never had a girlfriend or a serious relationship since your parents died?” If that was true, then that was just sad. Five years was a long time to put your life on hold for another person.
Kyle set the final screw and turned to face her. With all seriousness he said, “I’ve never had a relationship with anyone—ever. I dated casually in high school. Went off to college. Parents got killed, and the next thing I knew I was raising a devastated fifteen-year-old girl and trying to make a go of a fighting career I never really wanted. I didn’t have time in my life for a relationship. I slept with a lot of cage-bangers and hid that part of my life from Willow. I’m not proud of it, but I’m not ashamed, either. People do what they need to do in order to cope.”
“I’m not judging you, Kyle. God knows, I’m in no place to opinionate on anyone’s life choices.”
He rose and began collecting the old door parts then shoved them in the hardware bag. “I guess I just wanted you to know that if it seems like I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, it’s because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”
She laughed at his blunt honesty—an unexpected, whole-hearted belly laugh. “Me neither.” Rising from the chair, she walked over to him and slid her arms around his waist. Tipping her chin up to look at him, she purred, “I guess we’ll just have to figure it out together.”
His arms came around her and he hugged her tight. “I guess so.” He pressed a kiss to her lips and then stepped back, reaching into his pocket. “Before I forget…your new keys. Don’t be sticking the spare inside any fake rocks, huh?”
“Thank you for doing this.” She took the keys from him and separated them, handing one back. “Why don’t you keep the spare?”
His brow arched in surprise. “Seriously?”
“Of course. You gave me the spare to your house. It’s only fair you have mine.”
Kyle chuckled. “Regan must have been pissed to show up there and find it missing.”
“Let’s just say the durability of your front door has been thoroughly tested and deemed MMA fighter proof.”
He stuck his key into both locks, testing the handle and the deadbolt. Both snicked smoothly into place. Kyle pocketed his key, grabbed his tool bag and the sack, then headed down the steps. “Come on, babe. There’s a hot bath calling your name.”
He didn’t need to tell her twice. She bounded down the stairs and was headed to her car when an Animal Control van passed by. “Hey, Kyle. Check it out. Guess we’re not the only ones with a snake problem.”
“You were right. This bath was so worth the wait.”
Pen’s contented sigh was like a drug that went straight to his cock. He could get used to this…lounging in a tub with her naked in his arms. Her back rested against his chest, head propped against his collarbone as he took his time sudsing her body. Screw the loofah. He was using his hands for this job. Slick with soap, they glided down her arms, over her hands—so fragile compared to his, and yet their power to give him pleasure was astounding. He leaned her forward to rub the tension from her shoulders.
“Mmm, that feels good,” she moaned.
“You’ve got a lot of knots. Gonna take a while to work them all out.”
She tipped her head to the side, stretching the sore muscle as he massaged it loose with slow, deep pressure. He dipped his head, unable to resist kissing a trail up the slender column of her neck, stopping to nip and suck along the way. This time her moan held an edge of neediness, her arm guided up, hand cupping the back of his neck, fingers slipping into his hair.
“How do you know my body so well?” she murmured.
It wasn’t easy. She’d yet to give him the reins to fully explore and discover her. Every night was a battle of wills. At first, he didn’t mind. He found it fun and challenging to pit his prowess against hers. But he was an alpha at heart and to go so long without claiming her as he fully desired went against his nature. One night…all he needed was one night for her to trust him and cede her carefully guarded control, and he would show her more pleasure than she’d ever imagined. Never again would she fight him for dominance in the bedroom.
Something was holding her back. He sensed the struggle within her. If he could just convince her to let her guard down. Being a fighter had taught him how critical it was to pick and choose his battles—when to fight, when to submit, and when to bide his time and let the clock wind down in his favor.
He’d never encountered a woman like Pen before, but she was a quick study and it hadn’t taken him long to realize she feared intimacy. This woman could fuck like nobody’s business but it had to be on her terms. What he hadn’t figured out yet was why. Slowly but surely, he was solving the puzzle that was Penelope Cantrel.
She didn’t want him making love to her. Every time he tried and his touch softened, becoming gentle, she would tense and began pushing him away. But as long as she could control the pace and the position, she controlled the intimacy. He didn’t mind it rough, what he minded was that she was holding a part of herself back from him. Why? Didn’t she trust him? Or was her reasoning far more traumatic than that? A part of him feared discovering the truth.
He’d never cared for a woman like this before, or been concerned about connecting with one on any emotional level. He’d always been content to bang and bail, but with Pen it was different. He not only wanted her body, he wanted her heart.
To the world, Pen portrayed confidence. She appeared to be fearless, a risk-taker…but she wasn’t that way at all. Penelope was careful and closed off—and scared. Very few people ever got close enough to know it.
“I know this body so well because I dream of making love to it every night,” he whispered against her ear then kissed that sensitive spot just below it. He could feel her pulse ticking against his tongue. His soapy hands trailed down to cover her breasts. He tested their weight, enjoying the way they filled his grip—so soft, so…real. Perfectly full and tear-drop shaped, her nipples reminded him of rosehips, pink and blus
hing. As he continued to kiss her neck, he pinched the cherry tips and she moaned softly, her back arching into his touch, silently begging for more.
But he should have known she wouldn’t allow this caressing to go unchecked for long. His hand dipped beneath the water, gliding down her stomach, and she caught his wrist as his fingers teased past her navel, dragging it back up to her breast. This wasn’t the first time she’d stopped him from touching between her legs. Every time he tried, she artfully moved away from his touch, or guided his hand elsewhere. It was like a choreographed dance between them, so seamless. It’d taken him a while to figure out what she was doing. Usually because that was about the time she’d start sucking his cock, and well…who in their right mind could think when they were getting blown?
She was crafty and clever. On cue, Pen started to rise and turn in his arms, but he caught her hips and gently but firmly pushed her back into the water, holding her against him, his erection nestled snugly against the crack of her ass.
“I want to touch you,” she protested, reaching between them to stroke his erection. She knew exactly how he liked to be handled. If he wasn’t careful, in minutes, he would be lost and he wouldn’t realize until coming down her throat that she’d won yet again.
“I know you do, baby. But I’m touching you right now.” He pulled her hand off his dick, already busy working him over, and murmured between kisses, “Why are you trying to stop me?” When she didn’t answer, he grasped her chin and turned her face toward his. Her gaze flickered up to his and, for the briefest moment—before she closed her eyes and kissed him—he saw uncertainty.
Kyle took her mouth, kissing her deep, stroking his tongue against hers. She wasn’t the only one who could be distracting. He waited until their kiss turned fevered before attempting to touch her again. This time he got considerably farther, past the downy thatch of trim blonde curls. He was parting her silky folds, a finger sweeping over her entrance, ready to sink inside her, when she flinched as if she’d been shocked. Bolting to her feet, water sloshed out of the tub, splashing onto the tile floor.
In for the Win (Against the Cage Book 5) Page 23