“I thought of you,” she whispered brokenly. “On my knees, I thought of you and I wished—I wished I could be with you that way. That I could be worthy of being someone you’d touch.” She licked her lips. “Someone you’d make love to.”
“Don’t say that,” Ren snarled. “Don’t even think it. You’re beautiful and vibrant. So fucking courageous.” His body shook with rage at Salim for breaking McKenna down like she was then. “I’m not a nice person, McKenna. Don’t let the kind words fool you. Don’t mistake me for someone you can aspire to see a future with. I’m not the kind you need in your life.”
“Yet here you are.” She met his gaze, unflinching. “In my life when I need you most.”
“I’m here now.” He pressed his forehead to hers, brushed his lips over her nose. “When I find what I’m looking for, I’ll be gone. Know this. Please.” He didn’t stick around, not since he’d snuck out at nineteen. He didn’t put down roots, so there was less chance of having them uprooted.
McKenna nodded at his words, and Ren moved away after taking one last whiff of her natural scent. He got to his feet and held out a hand. “Let me feed you.”
Chapter Seven
Breakfast was a silent affair, finished quickly before Ren ran off using the excuse he had to check on some leads with his brother. McKenna nodded at him, her eyes tracking his departure while her gut clenched.
He didn’t sound like he was lying, but she couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help thinking back to the night before, the tape, and what he must think of her. She knew what she thought of her. Nothing good, nothing complimentary. The time had come though, with or without Ren’s help, to do something. To act. To stop sitting idly by, scared of making waves in the shallow pond she was drowning in.
Long after her backdoor closed behind Ren, McKenna sat on her couch, staring off into space. She searched her brain for any way out, nothing she hadn’t done over a hundred times before, but she tried harder than ever. Nothing.
She heaved a weary sigh and put down her empty food container. Nothing. She knew nothing about how Salim lived, besides where his apartment was and how he liked her positioned in bed. She’d tried, God knew she’d tried, looking for dirt, but he’d been good at keeping her ignorant of any dealing. She could pick out the men he brought around in a lineup or out in public, but she didn’t know names and had nothing on them beyond maybe rough sex and cheating on spouses.
That Salim was good.
He handled his business right. She'd been the fool who’d spent all that time on her back for him, and she had nothing but the memories to show for her troubles.
Her cell phone went off. She took one look at the caller ID and her heart plummeted to the floor.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Lacey, it’s Dr. Morrow. How are you?”
The low cadence in the doctor’s voice didn’t help McKenna relax any. The doc didn’t call except to give updates, and since McKenna had seen her not even two days prior, she shouldn’t be calling. “Dr. Morrow, I’m fine. How is my mother?”
“I’m afraid she’s had another seizure.” Dr. Morrow cleared her throat. “In fact, it was a series of them late last night and into this morning.”
“What? Why?” McKenna jumped to her feet and ran to the bedroom, yanking clothes from drawers. “What’s happening?” Her voice trembled, the fear icing her skin. Tears burned her eyes.
“Her condition is deteriorating. Rapidly.”
“What does that mean?” She pulled on a pair of faded jeans then sank onto the bed. “How do we fix it? Is it money?” she rushed on. “I’ve got money, so that’s not a problem.” Not if she continued as she’d been.
“No, money is not the issue.” Dr. Morrow sighed. “Why don’t you come over here and we’ll discuss it in person?”
There was something left unsaid. McKenna felt it. “What aren’t you saying?”
After a brief hesitation the doctor spoke. “Ms. Lacey—McKenna—we’ve had to put your mother in a medically induced coma to deal with the swelling in her brain. Please, come to the office, and we’ll talk further.”
McKenna hung up and slapped a hand over her mouth, stifling the scream as she slid from the bed to the floor.
A coma. Her mother was in a coma. Tears poured. The palm over her mouth didn’t contain her sobs, and they echoed in the quiet room, loud and ragged. She cried until she couldn’t, until her head and chest hurt and her lashes clumped together. Until she had nothing left. Even then, she couldn’t stay there, on the floor, weeping. Feeling sorry for herself. She had to get up, finish getting dressed, and go deal with her mother’s doctor. She was all her mother had and McKenna, who’d once considered her mother to be her savior, had no one.
****
Hours later, the consensus was the same and the diagnosis beyond grim. Her mother’s brain was soup. The only thing keeping her alive was machines. For how long depended entirely on McKenna.
Everyone expected her to have the answers, to know what to do and when. The patient’s daughter, that was her title, and as the daughter, she got to make the choice whether her mother lived with machines or died. She’d have to make the choice, pull the plug, as they say. End her mother’s life.
She stood in that sterile place and stared down at the still body, so pale, and felt so lost. Her mother was still there. McKenna still saw her. Still saw the vibrant woman with the gift, the mysterious ability to make people fall in love with her. She’d been beyond smooth, a pro at zeroing in on whatever people wanted to know, wanted to hear, and giving it to them. She’d been there, always, at McKenna’s side. Teaching her. Yes, it was always a con, and yes, it wasn’t the most healthy or conventional way to grow up, to raise a child, but McKenna didn’t know anything different.
She hadn’t known anything else. She’d loved her mother, loved knowing that she was the only one in on whatever her mother was up to. She was always in on the secrets.
The memories, they remained, and McKenna wasn’t ready—she doubted she’d ever be—to make a decision. She left the place with a heavy heart, sorrow slowing her footsteps as she got back into the cab and gave the driver her address. On the way back she stared at the dark screen of her phone. She’d sent Salim a text telling him what was going on, but of course she didn’t hear back, and she wouldn’t, not unless he wanted her body.
She’d never felt as alone as she did then, never felt so insignificant. She took a look at her life and saw nothing good, nothing decent. Everything was unraveling fast, slipping through her fingers like water. There was nothing, no one around to hold on to.
Back in her house she crawled into bed, sank under the covers, and used them to blot her tears as they flowed. She’d take this moment, feel sorry for herself. Then she’d get back on her feet. How, she didn’t know yet, but that didn’t matter. She was entitled to shed the tears, but not for long. No way was she going to roll over.
A hand at her shoulder yanked her awake. McKenna jerked upright and blinked at Ren. He frowned down at her.
“What’s wrong?”
She licked her lips, darting her gaze from his face. “What makes you think anything is wrong?”
He touched her chin, brushed knuckles over her cheek. “You’ve been crying. Why?”
She stared up at him, at his concerned expression, and almost lost it again. She wanted to talk to him, share her secrets with him. She wanted to believe he’d help lessen her load, but she couldn’t go there right then. She couldn’t take that leap right then. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”
His gaze bored into her, deep, as if searching for the words she dared not speak. She made sure he got nothing, locking it all up inside, and finally he nodded. “I came to say good-bye.”
“Good-bye?” she asked softly. When he didn’t offer anything else, she dug for more. “Where are you going?”
“I’ve found the person I’ve been looking for. At least, I think so.” He moved away from her to pace the length of the bedroom. “
Either way, my brother and I leave tomorrow to go check it out. In a matter of hours we may know for sure.” His eye had gone bright, hope and fear and caution, all spilling over.
McKenna gripped the edged of the blanket and offered him a soft smile she hoped didn’t shake too badly. He was off then to find the woman he’d been searching for for so long. He’d said it wasn’t personal, all business, but McKenna didn’t think she quite believed that. She must be some kind of woman to pull that kind of loyalty and dedication from someone as stand-offish as Ren. She could question him about her, the woman, but she didn’t know if he’d tell her the truth, confess to what he felt for the missing person. She also didn’t think she could stand it if he did give her the truth.
“This is it then?” she asked into the quiet. “You break into my life, turn everything upside down, and you leave?” Her voice rose on the last word, shrill and quivering. She swallowed when he stopped mid-pace and stared her down, nostrils flaring.
“That’s the way it has to be.” His pitched-low voice rumbled over her skin, a slow-moving quake that settled in her center, wetting her panties, and setting her clit to throbbing.
She moved her legs restlessly under the covers. “Fine.” She lifted her chin slightly, attempting to portray confidence while her eyes stung and her body burned. Didn’t it serve her right? Wanting things she could never have from a man she could never have? She flung away the blanket and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Under his heavy scrutiny, she got up and brushed the hair away from her face.
“Thanks for everything, Ren.” She didn’t hold his knowing gaze for more than a second, but it was enough. Enough to confirm what she already knew; she wanted that son of a bitch. She wanted him around. Wanted him to stay. For her. With her. “You know the way out.” She ducked past him, headed for the bathroom, but he grabbed her elbow. Held her still.
“McKenna.”
She froze. Her name on his lips was a tortured sound. She bit her lip, keeping her head straight ahead, unseeing. She didn’t want to look at him because she’d likely break. At the very least, she’d bend, low enough to beg for more. Just a little bit. Only a little bit more.
The rough scrape of his calloused fingers against her skin made her shiver, made her want to lean into him and demand a stronger touch, a tighter hold on her body. A hold similar to the one he already had on her heart.
Fuck.
“Kenna.” She hadn’t noticed him move, but suddenly his heat was all around her, his moist breath on her nape rustling the hair there. “I keep forgetting you’re not mine,” he murmured at her ear. “I keep forgetting I can’t claim you. You look at me with those big brown eyes and I forget.” He inhaled. His fingers on her elbow tightened. “I forget I can’t give you what you need.”
A sound spilled from her parted lips. A cry? A laugh? “What do you think I need?” she whispered without looking at him. “Tell me, Ren. What do I need?”
“More.” His hand slid from her elbow, up her arm. “You need more. I don’t have it to give.”
“Then give me whatever you’ve got.” She spun around, fisting the front of his shirt. “Give me whatever you’ve got,” she repeated. “I want it, Ren.” She did. She’d take anything. Anything.
His eye flashed, a burning that seemed to reach out and singe her. Color spread over his cheekbones, deepening the scar on his face. “One night.”
Oh Christ. She felt her body melting, coming apart under that look in his eye. Too hot, not hot enough. His hand moved from her shoulder to her throat, grasping her there and yanking her forward.
“One night, Kenna.”
Her lashes fluttered, her eyelids threatening to close. “All night.”
He took her mouth in a harsh claiming. All-consuming. She opened for him, fingers sinking into his shirt, holding on as her knees buckled. Ren’s tongue thrust deep, taking her over. His hold on her throat didn’t let up. In fact, he held her tighter there. She didn’t mind, but she should. He’d leave marks, and she couldn’t afford them.
His free hand traversed her front, knuckles brushing her nipples through the flimsy cut-off T-shirt before he delved farther down, past her stomach and belly button. She moaned into his mouth, fighting for breath yet refusing to part from him. His fingers snuck under the waistband of her panties and he cupped her.
She arched for him. Parted her thighs to grant him better access to the core of her ache. Her need. He brushed her clit and she moaned. Loud and hungry, that sound. A finger touched her swollen bud. Moisture flowed from her. Then he pushed two fingers inside.
She tore her mouth away and screamed. So fucking good, those fingers. Scraping against her walls, making her quiver and contract. She got wetter.
Ren grunted against her lips. “So fucking wet, Kenna.” He shifted, moved his mouth to her neck. “Want to get at that pussy, eat you right.” His teeth scraped the length of her neck. She bucked, her sex spasming.
“Fuck, yeah.” He worked her, spreading her with three fingers while his thumb pressed on her clit, the blunt scrape of his nail an added pain she loved.
She just held on to him, rising on tiptoes and sinking down on the fingers he used to fuck her out of her mind. “Ren.” His name trembled on her lips. She licked them. Then his mouth was back on hers, tongue pushing in, teeth clicking, nipping.
He twisted the fingers inside her, knuckles pressing at something that made her cry out. He swallowed the sound and did it again. McKenna dug her nails into his shoulders.
Ren lifted his mouth from hers. “Want to feel you come around my fingers, feel that cunt melt all around me.” He removed his digits and she whimpered at the loss.
“Ren.” God, her pussy contracted, searching for something. The emptiness, she hated it. “Please.”
He watched her hungrily. “You were right.” He brought his cream-soaked fingers to his lips and sucked on them. “You’re fucking tight, Kenna.”
She panted. Even more juices spilled from her. She liked the way he talked, like he meant every word. Like he couldn’t, wouldn’t ever get enough.
“I want to feel you around me,” he rumbled. “Want to feel your tight pussy squeeze me, choke me to fucking death.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Please.”
He licked his lips and stepped back. “Edge of the bed. Ass in the air.”
Her legs didn’t work right. She had to try twice before she found herself moving forward. Once she reached the bed, she dropped facedown, hanging half on, half off. Squeezing her eyelids shut, she fisted the sheet and waited.
“Spread.”
She did.
A hand slid over the inside of her right thigh.
“Raise it up.” His words came out as harsh commands, demanding nothing she wasn’t willing to give.
She bent her knees and tipped her ass higher, anticipation locking the breath in her lungs. Behind her, Ren cupped her ass then she felt his breath, hot at the base of her spine. McKenna undulated, needy sounds filling the room. He tugged down her panties. Something fell next to her head. She opened her eyes and saw it was the tiny scrap of red lace.
“You smell so fucking good.” Fingers sank into her ass cheeks, spreading her, exposing her to him. “Damn it, Kenna.” A slight tremor ran from his fingertips to her core. “Look at you, you’re perfection down here.”
He used the fingers from one hand to spread the outer lips of her pussy. She couldn’t help the low keening sound she made, or the clenching of her hole to his touch.
“Pink and soft,” he spoke in reverence. “And dripping for me.” He dragged his flattened tongue over her, from right before her ass to her clit.
“Oh. Oh God.” She bucked then pushed back onto his face. “Ren, please.” She wanted all of him. She’d come out of her skin if he kept up with the tease, if he continued with the slow. She wanted him hard and fast, wanted to scream and lose her mind with it.
Fingers pushed into her. Two. Three. Then his tongue followed. Kenna rocked with him, r
iding the rhythm of his fingers, fighting to take his tongue deeper into her. She wanted him to eat her up. She wanted it like the last time when she came undone riding his face.
The pleasure burned her good, had her flying. Words and sounds left her mouth, this she knew, but she didn’t hear them, couldn’t decipher anything over the blood rushing through her veins.
His tongue moved from her hole to her clit, where he tugged on her, worrying the hardened nub while Kenna writhed. He grunted and the vibrations lit her clit afire.
“Oh God!” She lifted her ass and Ren moved with her, never releasing her, his fingers still working her, teeth scraping over her clit bringing her pain until his tongue smoothed over her and took away the hurt, turning it mind-blowing pleasure.
Then abruptly the fingers in her cunt disappeared and returned at her back entrance, circling her rosebud, dipping in.
“Fuck! Fuck!” She bit down on the pillow, torn between wanting to beg for mercy, for him to let up on the pleasure, or give her more. Of everything. One slick finger breached the ring of muscle, slow going. She held her breath, the muscles in her thighs burning, the ache in her ass indescribable. Ren’s mouth closed over her clit. He sucked, pulling hard.
She cried out, nearly pitched forward, and the finger in her anus sank deeper, deeper inside.
“Ren, fuck. Too much.”
He made a sound on her aroused flesh that had her clawing the mattress. He sank all the way into her, and she let out a breath only to have it catch when he began moving. Steady. He fucked her ass and she burned. There and all over.
His mouth left her. Two digits pushed into her cunt.
“Look at you,” he said against her ass. “Slick and tight, ass strangling me while I dig out your cunt. I’m gonna fuck you like that, in your ass, before the night is over.”
Coming Undone Page 7