Nightshade

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Nightshade Page 12

by Molly McAdams


  Because I hadn’t been able to explain my need for him earlier. The way I’d craved him. The way I’d felt like I’d crumble without him.

  Now I wondered if I knew.

  I wondered if it was possible for someone like me to fall in love. I wondered if I was. Or if I already had.

  I never thought I’d love someone. I’d never wanted to.

  But the feeling of rightness that swept through me at the thought of loving the assassin holding me both excited and terrified me.

  But as terrifying as the thought of loving someone was, it didn’t compare to the terror of what would happen to Kieran for being the man that I’d fallen in love with.

  Because there was a man who thought he owned me.

  And he didn’t share.

  I stopped dead in my tracks when I opened the door to my room after my run the next morning.

  I don’t think anything had ever shocked me as much as the sight before me.

  I was hard in a fucking instant.

  Jessica was sitting on top of my dresser. Back straight. Legs crossed. No makeup. Obsidian eyes focused on the mini blade she was attempting to roll between her knuckles.

  Jesus Christ.

  The knob was still firm in my grasp, and I was sure if I stood there any longer, I would crush it.

  The sound of the door shutting might as well have been a gun going off from the way she jumped, a curse slipping from her mouth as the blade fell into her lap.

  “Damn it,” she hissed again as she unfolded her legs carefully.

  I was in front of her without realizing I’d even moved. Grabbing the knife and chucking it onto the bed as I inspected the two-inch slash down her thigh.

  “You surprised me,” she murmured as she tried to bat my hands away.

  I grabbed both of her hands in one of mine and swiped at the thin line of blood beginning to well on her skin to make sure it was only a surface cut. “I know the feeling.”

  My eyes darted to her face in time to see her cheeks redden then moved to her hands. A drop of blood had fallen from her finger to my hand, and another small bead was building. Otherwise, she was fine.

  I brought her hand to my mouth and sucked on the cut finger, trying to ignore her sharp inhale and the way her toes curled against the edge of the dresser.

  I gave the tip of her finger a little bite and turned toward the bathroom to get an alcohol wipe, but stopped when she asked, “What if I had a disease?”

  “You would’ve told me,” I said confidently.

  Her eyes were hooded and filled with heat when I returned, her cheeks still flushed as she bit her bottom lip to hold back a smile.

  When I pushed her legs apart to clean the blood and cut, the shirt she was wearing shifted up higher than it had before, giving me a glimpse of what was underneath.

  Nothing.

  “Jesus,” I said under my breath and groaned when she spread her legs wider. “What are you doing, Jessica?”

  “Saying thank you.” Her tone sounded innocent enough, but her head was tilted with challenge.

  I stepped back when she gripped the hem of the shirt to lift it higher so I could see where she was bare and ready for me.

  “Kieran.”

  I forced my stare to hers, my teeth clenching when she lifted her chin and pointed to her eyes.

  “Watch here.”

  Her mouth opened as a stuttered exhale fell from her lips, her eyes fluttering shut for a few seconds. And even though I forced myself to watch nothing but her eyes, I could see the way her body bowed forward before falling gently against the wall again.

  My body was strung so tight I was shaking from the effort it took to stay there. To not look down. To not take her.

  Dark, heated eyes met mine again. Her expression lit with amusement, but there wasn’t a hint of her darkness.

  She was enjoying this.

  I wanted her to. I wanted her to learn to enjoy this.

  And I wanted her to enjoy thinking she could torture me before I had her screaming my name later.

  I removed my shirt and kicked off my shoes, owning the pride that surged through me when her eyes widened as they raked over my body.

  When she looked at me again, her expression was open. Inviting. Challenging.

  I took a step forward, forcing myself to take my time studying her body. The need in her eyes. The natural pout of her full lips. The way her chest rose and fell unevenly. The way her hips moved in the faintest rocking motion on the dresser.

  And down.

  She sat there, legs wide and fingers spreading herself. The fingers of her free hand circled her clit and dropped to her entrance—once . . . twice—then traveled slowly to her clit to circle teasingly.

  I was so damn hard I was going to get off just watching her.

  I dropped my running shorts and gripped my throbbing dick in my hand, pumping in time with what she was doing to herself. Her teeth tortured her bottom lip as her fingers moved faster and faster, her legs moving restlessly as her excited stare bounced from my face to what my hand was doing.

  I stepped up so my legs were pressed to the dresser and nearly came when I brushed against her.

  “Please,” she whispered, a shudder rolling through her body. “Oh God, please.”

  I leaned forward to press my hand to the wall, clenching my jaw to keep the darkness away as the tip of my cock brushed against her again and again.

  As soon as her body began vibrating and her mouth fell open with a muted cry, I pumped harder and faster until I found my own release, spilling my cum where she was spreading herself for me.

  Her body was trembling, her chest moving roughly as she watched me. Her eyes were hooded, but worry swiftly sparked in them.

  “Move,” she whispered through her rough breaths. Her tone both gentle and commanding.

  When nothing happened, she gripped my shaking hand and tried to move it away from the wall. It didn’t budge. With a lazy nod, she closed her legs and turned on the dresser until she was facing the wall.

  Nearly thirty seconds passed before I sucked in a shuddering breath and wrapped my arm around her waist to pull her closer to me.

  It’d taken Lily years to know what I needed. Years of me forcing her to turn around before she’d started doing it on her own. And even then, she’d fought it because she hadn’t understood. She’d wondered why I wouldn’t give her what she needed when it was something that could’ve killed her.

  And Jessica knew.

  In just over a week.

  I pulled Jessica off the dresser, keeping her in my arms as I strode to the bathroom and turned on the shower.

  “I shouldn’t have done that,” I murmured against her head once I had her standing on her own feet. My arms wrapped possessively around her. The harsh spray beating down on me.

  She tilted her head back and to the side, exposing her neck to me. “I had it handled.”

  “It was dangerous,” I unnecessarily reminded her as my mouth skimmed her skin.

  “I like danger.”

  I bit down on her skin at her reminder, my hands flexing on her hips when she gasped. “Not that kind of danger.”

  I released her slowly, dragging my hands across her water-slicked skin before turning to grab the soap. She shampooed her hair while I washed, her inky eyes watching every movement I made with passionate interest.

  When she reached for the bar, I took her hand and pulled her into me.

  My eyes searched hers for long seconds. Taking in every feature like it was new now that she didn’t have her mask on. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

  Her face fell as though I’d just said the worst thing in the world to her. She nodded, the action slow. And just when I was about to ask what I’d done, she asked, “Would you want me if I wasn’t?”

  The pent-up breath rushed from my lungs and I tipped her chin so she’d look at me. “I didn’t want you because of the way you look. Because you use it to your advantage. I couldn’t stay away from you because of
who you are beneath all that chaos. Doesn’t change the fact that you are beautiful.”

  The corners of her mouth tilted up and blood rushed to her cheeks.

  She leaned up to press her lips to mine, laughing against them when I said, “Especially when you’re not trying to be invincible.”

  She turned so her back was to me and relaxed into my hands, moving with me as I took my time washing her body. By the time I had my hand between her legs, washing away what remained from our time at the dresser, I was hard again.

  I gripped her hips, the muscles in my arms straining to keep her there when I wanted to bury myself inside her. She lifted onto her toes and reached back to thread her fingers through my hair. Her body arched and moans escaped her throat when my dick slid against the crease of her ass.

  “Jessica,” I growled in warning.

  It was the only warning I could muster before I repeated our first night and sent her spiraling into a shell again.

  She tilted her head to press her lips to my jaw and breathed, “Tell me how you want me.”

  Fuck me.

  I wanted to get her out of this shower, bend her over the counter, and then sink into her and fuck her until she was screaming my name.

  I wanted to gather her wet hair in my hand and make her arch back so she’d watch all of it in the mirror.

  I wanted to make her come until her legs gave out.

  My hips rocked forward as involuntarily as the groan that sounded deep in my chest.

  The spaced-out look in her eyes from the other night tore through my mind until it was all I could see.

  I dropped my head to stare at the ceiling for a few seconds, blew out a calming breath, and reached behind me to shut off the water.

  Looking at her, I dropped a soft kiss on her forehead. “I don’t have a condom. And you’d regret letting me do what I want.”

  “I won’t get pregnant,” she said softly.

  “I know.”

  Her eyes narrowed with curiosity and wonder. “How?”

  “You would’ve told me.”

  “You said that earlier.” She twisted her upper body and leaned into my arms, letting me hold her.

  Content to be like this. Not pushing what I couldn’t give her.

  “How are you so sure I would tell you those things? How are you so sure I’m telling you the truth?”

  “The girl I first met? The girl who stole my wallet and knife and laughed like nothing in the world touched her? She comes from the same place my darkness does. And she lies. The girl who’s been in my bed the last few days? She’s different, and she tells me things she doesn’t tell anyone else. She tells me everything I need to know.”

  Even with the drops of water dotting Jessica’s face, I saw the tears well in her eyes and race down her cheeks.

  With a subtle nod, she asked, “Then why have you been using condoms?”

  My jaw locked, and my chest felt tight in a way I couldn’t understand.

  I couldn’t understand the possession I felt with the girl in my arms.

  I couldn’t understand the pain that came with wanting her.

  I couldn’t understand the jealousy.

  I’d just met her. She’d just come laughing and dancing into my life like an unpredictable twister. But I’d never been more aware of how much I needed someone.

  “Because you’re still fucking other men.”

  She blinked quickly then forced out a breath of a laugh. “Right. Almost forgot that one.” Tapping her middle finger to her temple, she rolled her eyes. “Silly me to forget about the other cocks in my life.” She pulled away from me and was almost out of the walk-in shower when I put my hand to her chest and shoved her against the marble wall.

  Her ebony eyes lit with that excitement that made my blood boil.

  “Angry?” she asked in that fucking taunting tone. “I wanna see how angry you can get, baby.”

  I pressed my forehead to hers and slid my hand up her throat until my thumb was brushing over her lips. “You wanna be dark, Jessica? Let’s be dark.”

  My breaths came slower until they were almost nonexistent. I could feel my hand trembling where it stayed, just below her jaw. But I fought with everything I had to keep it from taking over. I needed to watch her eyes.

  The second the laughter disappeared in them, I slammed my free hand into the wall, pushed away from her, and moved into my bathroom, a vicious roar exploding from my chest as everything went so fucking dark.

  The next thing I knew I was pacing the length of my bedroom. Water still beading my skin. Shorts on. Chest heaving. Knife in hand.

  Jessica was in one of my plain white shirts, leaning against the doorframe leading into the bathroom, watching me with a curious expression.

  I forced myself to stop pacing and faced her with my trembling arms crossed over my chest. “Did I hurt you?”

  “Of course not.” She gestured to me. “You were gone before I even knew you were moving.”

  “In the shower, Jessica. The wall,” I said through clenched teeth. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No. How could that have hurt?” When I didn’t answer, she asked, “Don’t you remember?”

  I remembered forcing her back. I remembered everything in the shower. I remember not being able to stop once I’d started.

  “You slowed me right before I landed against the wall. I barely felt it.”

  I ran my hands through my hair and down my face, hating myself and hating the knife in my hand. “I’m so damn sorry.”

  “For what?” she asked, suddenly at my side. “For making my demons go away when I told you I could fight them myself?” She smirked and pressed her mouth to my shoulder. “I knew what you were doing.”

  I hooked my arm around her waist to pull her closer and buried my head in her neck. “Jessica, for my sanity, I need you to hear me. If I wanted a whore, I’d go find one. If I thought of you as one, I’d treat you like one.”

  She gripped my hair, forcing me to look into her sad eyes. “My fractured mind will understand that when you understand you don’t have to apologize every time your darkness creeps through.”

  My chest moved with a grim laugh. “Never.”

  Her eyebrows lifted in reply.

  She moved from my side to stand in front of me, her head tilted and her lips sought mine. The soft curves of her back were pressed close to every hard part of me when I brushed my mouth across hers, eliciting a contented sigh from her.

  I teased her tongue with mine, the movement slowing when I realized something.

  “You came into the room with me and grabbed one of my shirts when I was like that?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Don’t say that like I don’t know how to sneak past you.”

  I dropped my head, a frustrated laugh climbing up my throat.

  This girl.

  “Fucking chaos.”

  I grasped her chin to tilt her head back farther, the blade resting evenly along her jaw as I devoured the girl who was trying to drive me insane.

  I trailed my other hand over her waist and down her stomach, swallowing her needy moan when I stopped just before the juncture of her thighs.

  My heart slowed.

  My eyes opened and focused on the wall in front of me.

  The kiss slowed until my lips were hovering over hers.

  I dropped the knife slowly until it was resting under her heavy breasts.

  And I waited.

  “Kier—”

  “Don’t.”

  Her chest hitched a second before I flung the knife to the side.

  The door to my bedroom opened half a second before the knife hit the doorframe.

  “Jesus fuck, you fuck. Why do you always . . .?” Beck’s already wide eyes grew as he looked from me to the girl in my arms. “Jess?”

  Shit.

  “Jess?”

  Beck didn’t seem to care about the knife sticking out from the doorframe at eye level, less than an inch from where he stood. All he could do was stare at me
with a look like I’d hurt him . . . worse than ever before.

  A part of me ached, knowing I’d hurt him. He’d been the only constant person in my life besides Momma.

  The only person who had cared. Even if for a little while.

  But at the same time, he’d wrecked everything by not seeing anything.

  The line between wanting to apologize for his hurt and not caring at all drifted back and forth until I wasn’t sure which was greater.

  At least Kieran had enough sense to move his hand higher on my stomach before Beck had opened the door.

  Beck finally blinked to look away from me, but his wounded expression turned to anger as he set his glare on Kieran. “Need to talk to you.”

  “Not a good time.”

  “I can fucking see that,” Beck growled. “Still need to talk to you.”

  Kieran only gripped me tighter. “She’s not leaving.”

  Beck rocked back a step, as if Kieran’s claim had just shaken his world. His hands fisted and unfurled over and over again before he stepped into the room and slammed the door behind him. “Fine.”

  He charged into the room like a bull, his eyes on the floor and his chest heaving as he headed in the direction of the closest surface that wasn’t the bed.

  The dresser.

  We hadn’t cleaned that.

  I made a soft noise of protest, but Kieran curled his fingers against my stomach to stop me.

  The touch was gentle and possessive. Seductive and commanding.

  It made my belly flood with heat and my knees weaken.

  “Don’t sit there,” Kieran warned in a low tone.

  Beck stopped just before he sat down, his face burning red as he straightened with a painful slowness.

  With a pleading look at me and a murderous glare at Kieran, he asked, “Where can I sit?”

  Kieran’s hand slid to my waist to pull me toward the bed, out of Beck’s way, and nodded toward the chair in the corner of the room.

  When Beck passed by, I heard him breathe, “Fuck you.”

  Kieran nodded, taking the insult, but didn’t say a word. “What’s going on?”

  Beck ran his hands over his beard a few times before he ground out, “Conor’s losing it. He’s scared. It’s wearing on him. We’ve gotta find the guy Mickey hired.”

 

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