Even at Your Darkest

by A J Love

  “Well come on in and take it off. I want to know all about how your new store is doing.”

  Lori half pulls me through the house and sort of dumps me on the sofa before turning to Kane who has followed us in.

  “Make us some coffee,” she tells him, leaving no room for argument when she turns her back to him and focuses her attention back on me. I fight my smile as I watch Kane roll his eyes behind her back before sauntering off toward the kitchen.

  “So, what’s going on?” She asks me.

  I shrug. “Nothing, I’m okay. Just a long day that’s all.”

  Her eyebrow rises in that 'mom' way, so I know my answer isn’t enough for her. I’ve gotten to know Kane’s mother a little, so I know she isn’t going to let this go.

  I release a long breath. “My folks came to the store today to pick up my little sister, who ran away from them to me.”

  “Uh huh. And I’m going to assume you don’t get along with them?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Well, we can’t get along with everyone in the world, can we?” She shrugs, “I mean, Kane might actually smile then and wouldn’t that be a horror?”

  I laugh at her poor joke, shifting myself a little on the couch to try to get comfortable. It’s not that I don’t feel okay being here, it’s that I won’t let myself relax. Kane does, it’s about the only place he lets it all go, but it’s not my place.

  I don’t have a place.

  And I’m not about to spread myself out on his.

  So I keep myself sat on the edge of the sofa, keep my back straight and my face friendly. Because no matter how crappy I’m feeling, I am not about to pollute Kane’s happy place with my own drama. Lord knows, he needs somewhere he can be less miserable.

  “So, honey,” Lori smiles, “how do you feel about helping me cook dinner tonight?”

  “Ma,” Kane laughs as he comes in, placing two cups of coffee on the small table in front of us. “Leave her be. It’s been a bitch of a day.”

  Lori waves him off, apparently not caring about what he thinks. “Come on. We’ll have our drinks and then we’ll go make something that requires a lot of concentration,” she ponders a little, bringing her cup to her lips, “something with beef.”

  I take a drink from my own cup and nod a little. Maybe focusing on something other than my own failing life is exactly what I need. “Sounds good to me,” I reply.

  I could sleep for a week by the time we’ve cooked, eaten, and cleared away. Lori kept me busy in the kitchen and then filled the meal time with endless talking about all the people in town. It’s been never ending, and I’m exhausted, but I’ve finally switched off from the ridiculousness of the day.

  I allow myself a small laugh when I watch Kane settle back on the couch and groan a little next to me, his eyes on some game show on the TV. We ate a lot, and now I can’t even contemplate moving.

  “Who are you laughing at?” Kane says, turning his face to me. “And you can’t be comfortable like that.”

  I shrug, not really knowing what else to respond with. Kane replies with a quiet growl, apparently not liking my response.

  “Take your shoes off,” he grunts, and then sighs when I don’t move. “Jesus.”

  He pulls me back on the sofa, leans forward, and tugs off my shoes. Then he lifts my legs onto the couch, settles back again and drapes his arm around me, drawing me close to his side. I melt against him, feeling the remaining anxiety I had left of the day dissolve.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, dropping my head low.

  Kane presses a soft kiss, so not Kane like at all, in my hair. “Don’t be sad, Layton. Not here.”

  I don’t think I’m sad, not really. I might have been that and more when I walked through the door, but I’m definitely not now. I was most of the way okay by the time dinner came around thanks to Kane’s mom. Lori has this way about her, this way of putting you at ease despite not knowing why you’re so messed up. She’s a mom, in every sense of the word, and made sure I felt like I was included in her home.

  She walks in now, a tray full of cookies in her hand, and beams at us. “Look at you both, all nice and rested. Why don’t you guys stay over tonight?” She puts the plate of cookies down. “Yes, that’s a great idea. I’ll go make sure everything is set up for you.”

  She hurries off before any of us can respond, which just leaves me with Kane to provide the answers. His gaze is trained on the ceiling, an amused smile marring his mouth. It’d be cute, if I wasn’t suddenly in a mild panic. I can’t stay here. That is ridiculous. This is his mother’s home. This is the house where he grew up!

  “Kane,” I say, getting his attention, lifting myself off him to get a better look at him.

  He looks back at me and shakes his head. “I know, but there will be no arguing with her now. Sorry, sweetheart, but it looks like we’re having a sleepover with my mom.”

  “But I don’t have anything with me.”

  “Like what?” Kane shrugs. “We’ll figure it out.”

  He turns his head away from me and puts his attention back on the screen, apparently seeing no issues here. I groan internally and relent, letting my head drop back onto him. It’s not like I can just abandon ship and get the hell out of here; he’s my ride.

  And he damn well knows it, too.

  We don’t stay downstairs for too long. His mom heads to bed early, and the tension gets thick without her as a buffer. It’s been getting hotter and heavier between us lately, so much unspoken that neither of us are brave enough to say. I have feelings for him, feelings I can’t and won’t even try to explain to myself. And he feels for me too. It’s why he’s brought me here, why he’s unable to leave me to fend for myself. Something has happened in all the time we’ve been spending together, something has clicked into place, and it’s a lot to bear. Apparently, it’s too much for Kane, who stood from the couch less than five minutes after his mom left the room, all but knocking me off it in the process. Did he forget I’ve been practically lying on him for the last hour and a half? He’s standing in front of me now as I attempt to sit myself up and blink the fog out of my eyes. I might very well have been half asleep.

  “Come on,” he barks at me, taking my hand and helping me up. I attempt to grab my shoes, but he pulls me away. “Leave them. They’ll still be there in the morning.”

  He leads me to the stairs and up them to the farthest room on the left, then through the door. I look around and take it all in. The walls are lined with shelves: trophies and framed awards filling them. I walk over to look closer, not surprised at all to find they’re for varying different types of fighting: kick boxing, karate, jiu-jitsu. It looks like he’s done all of it. I glance at the years etched onto them. He’s been doing this since he was a kid. Does he still do it now? I knew when I first saw him that he was deadly.

  I turn sharply when I hear the lock on his door click and watch him watch me. He pulls his tee off, tossing it onto the chair in the corner.

  “Find something interesting?” He asks, taking a step toward me.

  I don’t move an inch, couldn’t even if I wanted to. I’m far too invested in the view right in front of me. “You’ve been a tough guy all your life, huh?”

  He takes another step. “Does that scare you?” I shake my head and he closes the gap between us. “Do I scare you?”

  “Yes,” I reply, bracing myself against the desk behind me. “But not the way you think.”

  His lips are teasing my own, so close I can almost taste him. His hands grip my hips, lifting me until I’m sat on the desk. Naturally, my legs open for him to stand between them.

  He pushes the chair aside and strokes his hands up my thighs, pushing the skirt of my dress higher, leaving goose bumps in his wake. “And in what way do I scare you?” My gaze drops, my head swimming with all the feelings he stirs up in me. He reaches behind me to palm my lower back, pulling me against him. “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t get shy now.”

  I release a shaky breat
h, using all the willpower I have not to grind myself against where I can feel he has hardened. “You scare me because of how you make me feel.”

  He presses into me. I look up to him and bite my lip to stop myself from moaning out loud, but silently I’m begging for him. He knows, of course he knows. I can see it in his eyes that he knows exactly what he’s doing to me, and he’s fucking enjoying it.

  He uses his own legs to push mine further apart and gently presses his thumb against my panties, just next to where he knows it will make me crazy. “And how do I make you feel, Layton?”

  “Stronger,” I reply, gasping when his thumb circles, “Like I can do anything.”

  “And,” he urges, quickening his pace. “Tell me how you feel right now.”

  My head falls back, my hands gripping the edge of the desk as he works my clit. My breathing is heavy, ragged. His eyes are on me, the lust in them as hard as him. Kane’s watching me as he arouses me, giving to me while denying himself. He knows he could take me now, knows that I would open for him like a flower in spring, but he’s holding back. He’s waiting for me. It empowers me, fills me with a confidence I never knew I had.

  “I feel sexy,” my hand covers his, stilling it. “And I feel in control.”

  “Show me,” he demands.

  I lift his hand from me and place it on the top of my thigh. “Sit,” I say quietly, and then move myself further back on the desk.

  When Kane drops into the chair, his eyes alight with desperate hunger. I lift my feet onto the armrests of the chair and stroke my own finger along the length of my pussy. Moving my panties to the side, I coat my finger into my arousal, then hold it up, “Do you want to taste?”

  He groans in reply, but I only smirk as I put my own mouth around it and taste myself, moaning softly.

  “Fuck, baby,” he curses, and makes to pounce on me.

  I stop him with my foot, pushing him back into the chair. He growls at me, his eyes narrowing.

  “No,” I say, riding this new wave of confidence, “not until you tell me how I make you feel.”

  I bring my fingers back to my pussy, pushing under my panties, and insert one, then two, and grind my hips into it. Using my free hand, I lift the hem of my dress and pull it off. I let it fall to the floor and keep my eyes on Kane. I can see him fighting with himself on whether he can resist touching me, or if he’ll finally tell me something that is behind the nothingness of him.

  “You,” he clears his throat, “scare me.”

  “How so?” I ask, breathless as I rock my hips harder. I look pointedly at the bulge in his jeans. “Let me see you.”

  He curses again, rushing to free himself. His dick stands solid, his hand wrapping around the base of it. “I’m out of control when I’m with you,” he says, with a voice as rough as gravel. “It’s not as dark when you’re around.”

  I moan, feeling my release beginning to tingle at the base of my spine. But as hot as I feel right now, I don’t want to give this to myself. I want it from him. I want him to build me up to that high, chase it, and then plummet over the edge with me. I look at him, lock my eyes against his and let him see what I need.

  “Take me, Kane.”

  I don’t know how we got here, but we’re in Kane’s bed and I can’t feel my legs.

  When I told him to take me, I didn’t realize that I was releasing a starving beast from a cage. A very horny, starving beast. What on earth was I letting myself in for?

  “I never wanted a girlfriend,” Kane says from beside me, looking every bit as exhausted as I am.

  I stay silent, not really sure how to take his weird outburst. I mean fine, whatever. I've never said I wanted to be with him on some kind of exclusive basis. He turns himself on his side and puts his hand on my stomach.

  “Look at me,” he pulls me toward him until I turn to face him. “Layton, I never wanted a girlfriend. I never wanted to feel like I was attached to another person or responsible for them. I never wanted to disappoint someone.”

  He brushes my cheek with the back of his fingers. “There’s just something about you. I won’t give you candlelit dinners or flowers on Friday, or fucking picnics in the park. I’ll probably piss you off more than I make you happy, and I’m definitely not going to remember your birthday or Valentine’s Day or whatever fucking anniversary.”

  “Valentine’s Day is stupid,” I mumble, trying to process what he’s saying.

  “Fucking A. But I will never lie to you. I’ll keep you safe, and I’ll do everything I can to show you that you can do anything and that you are strong.”

  Overwhelmed with a surge of emotion, I push him back and climb on to straddle him. “You want me?” I ask. “You want me to be yours?”

  He sits up and holds me close, hardening beneath me. “Yeah, baby. I want you, and you’re already mine.”

  Kane

  I’m actually a little nervous as I wake up, finding Layton nestled in beside me.

  Last night I saw a different side of her; I saw someone I could see myself fucking for the rest of my goddamn life. I don’t know why it’s her, don’t even really know what it is about her, but all I know is she belongs to me now, no one else. I tried to fight it, tried to let it go, but she’s everywhere. She’s what I’m always thinking about, what I can’t be without. I just hope, I really fucking hope, that I don’t make a mess of this.

  Carefully, I adjust myself to lie on my back, so my morning hardness doesn't wake her. We were animals last night, and she definitely can’t handle me again this morning, no matter how perfect that would be. The last thing I want to do is hurt her. I want the opposite of that. She took a hard hit with her folks yesterday and needed to feel in control again, and last night with me she fucking was. Hell, does she not see that she’s always in control when it comes to me? Everything I do is with her in mind, everything I’m trying to be is for her.

  She stirs a little in her sleep, her eyes flicking open briefly.

  “You think too loud,” she groans, turning over and resting her head on my chest. “What time is it?”

  I glance quickly at my cell, “a little after seven.”

  Her fingers lazily trace along my tattoos, following their path down my arm and onto my chest. My skin tingles from her touch, but I don’t say anything. I’m not that much of a pussy. But I’d be lying to myself if I said she didn’t make me see things differently. I mean, fuck, even the sky is that much brighter with her around. The bad doesn’t feel so bad. My shit is still there but I’m not suffocating in it. She’s my breathing room, that gap of clean air that stops me drowning in my own misery. No, I never wanted a girlfriend, and I took one look at her and knew I couldn’t—shouldn’t—go there, but I need her now. I need her with me, beside me, showing me the light. I need what only she can offer me—peace.

  Idly, I brush my thumb across her thigh.

  Please don’t leave me.

  “You know,” she says, yawning a little and distracting me, “You’re actually pretty sweet.”

  I snort. “I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”

  She laughs and rolls herself on top of me, sitting up. “I mean once you get behind all the dark, grumpy glaring, obviously.”

  “I’ve never been grumpy,” I say, watching her as she stretches. She’s completely naked and sitting right on my dick. I can’t deal with this girl, she incapacitates me. My hands grip her hips automatically, craving the feel of her.

  “Yes, you have.” She chews on her lip as her hips move, her pussy grinding against me, “Especially in a morning.”

  “I don’t seem to have that problem this morning,” I smirk.

  She smirks right back, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. “Apparently not.”

  Slowly, she moves back, keeping her eyes on me. I watch as they darken, the lust in them swirling with something deeper, something unknown. I know I should stop her, tell her she doesn’t need to do what I know she’s about to, but I can’t. My own lust is leading me now, and when
her tongue flicks along the tip of my cock, all coherent thinking is lost. This girl, my girl, is a goddamn vixen, and I had no fucking idea.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  I can’t help my quick grin when Layton flushes at my mom’s question.

  “Yeah, Ma, out like a light,” I press a kiss against her cheek, “Go sit down. I’ll bring the coffee over.”

  “Breakfast is already on the table, so just bring the pot.”

  She heads in the direction of the table, leading Layton behind her. I watch them as they talk, giggling together in that way women do. Layton is talking about the store and the stuff she makes, and Mom is asking her what kind of fabric she uses and other stuff. How are they so chipper in the morning? Who can be bothered to have a conversation so early? I follow them to the table and attempt to tune them out as they continue, but it’s no use. They’re into it now, and I know my ma. She isn’t about to let up anytime soon. I glance at Layton, can see the light in her eyes as she talks comfortably with Mom, and inside I smile. It’s just so fucking good to see her looking something other than scared shitless when it comes to her new business, so good to see her smile and relax. I’m going to do everything I can to keep her that way.

  After breakfast with Mom, we leave and head back to our apartments. Layton is itching for a shower, and clean clothes, and I have some work to get done at the shop. I drop her off at our building and then make the drive to work.

  It’s a couple of hours later when I’m interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on the half-rolled shutter. Mildly annoyed, I climb from the pit and head over. It’s not unusual to have people call in like this, especially lately, but I normally have Layton here to deal with it for me. But she’s at the store today and so I won’t see her until tonight. I really need to talk her into quitting the store too, and just being here full time with me.

  I look over the guy leaning against the desk at the front of the shop as I approach. He’s suited in pinstripes, with leather boots crossed at the ankles and mean eyes looking right at me. I almost smirk. He looks like some kind of extra in a Snoop Dogg video.