“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Katelyn managed a level voice. “If you just want this to be a beer, why did you come after me?”
Kian’s eyes locked onto her face. He stared hard at her, until a shiver crawled up her spine, up into her neck. He spoke so calmly, so matter of fact, that his words were all the more horrible for it. “My wife and my son were killed in a car accident four years ago. I was driving. I survived. Had a couple cuts, that was it. The other guy was at fault, but it was still me, if you catch my drift. I couldn’t be a cop after that. I couldn’t be much of anything at all. I sold the house. Got rid of everything I owned. Lit out of Tampa and came to Miami for a fresh start. Drawing was always a passion. I had ink in spots that were easily covered up. I never needed someone to teach me. I got a kit and taught myself. Practiced on fruit and those willing to sacrifice a piece of their skin for a free tattoo. Fortunately what I was doing was better than most of the shit artists in this city. I got good really fast. Opened my own shop, hired some people. And here I am.”
“Here you are,” Katelyn said softly. Not soft enough for Kian not to hear. He let out a cold chuckle, lifted his beer to his lips and slammed the rest back. His pint glass hit the table so hard that it rattled. “I’m so… sorry,” she stammered, aware that it was not enough. No words would ever be enough to erase his pain. Her heart ached so fiercely it stole her breath.
“I don’t ever talk about that shit. Ever. You’re the first person I’ve told.” His throat moved up and down wildly as he tried to compose himself. It was only the sorrow burning in his eyes that told her he was at all affected. His face remained, for the most part, impassive. “And what about you? What shit life brought you here to this city? I already know about your douche bag of an ex-husband. I’ll bet your story didn’t start with him.”
“No,” she admitted carefully. Her eyes fell to her hands, which rested on the tabletop. “I grew up in London. My mom raised my sister and I, she was a year older. She was a single mom. She did the best she could, I guess. She was always bouncing around from one guy to the next. I guess she craved what we couldn’t give her. Some kind of fulfillment. Love that a child never quite makes up for not having. Anyway, I worked hard, did some correspondence classes and that, so I could graduate early and move out at the same time my sister did. We found this tiny flat and she was working so we could afford it. I actually was able to get student loans to take this online interior design course. I was working as a waitress during the day and doing the course at night. I made it through. I was really good at it so it took me only half the amount of time it usually takes people. I was doing pretty good for myself, getting my name out there, starting to have regular clients and regular work and then, I met John and- yah. You already know how that ended up. I followed him over here, to Chicago. It didn’t take me long to realize the guy I fell in love with wasn’t who I married.” Her stomach knotted and she was glad to be done with the bitter words.
They were both silent for a long while and luckily their waitress brought Kian another pint, without him having to ask, to break up the long pause.
“So, we’re both fucked up. We both came here to escape a past that couldn’t be escaped or forgotten.”
“I might have been trying to get away from John, but I knew I’d never forget. That wasn’t the point of leaving.”
“No? Why not go back to London then?”
Katelyn hedged. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “I suppose I like the weather here. I already had my Green Card. Moving would have just been a lot of work. I thought that I had a better chance of being able to support myself here. Miami seemed like a beautiful city. I’d always wanted to see it. I might still go back to London eventually, but it’s expensive. Cramped.”
Kian nodded slowly. Both of them sat there, neither of them knowing what to say. He raised his glass and swallowed his beer at an astonishing rate. When he thumped his glass back down and locked his gaze back to hers, Katelyn was astounded at the way he could shut down his pain. There was nothing in his eyes, nothing he was willing to reveal, at any rate.
“So… now you know. Now you know why I say I’m fucked up. Why you should stay away. I’m not the kind of guy who is tender and sensitive. I’m not the family kind anymore. I’m not willing to take a chance on that again. No, that’s not right. I just can’t. I’m broken in ways that will never be put back together.”
Those eyes, so black, so sad, so unreadable, burned her heart. She understood what it was he was trying so hard to say without actually uttering the words. He’d tried to drive her away. He was probably still trying. And yet, here she was, sitting across from him, sharing tales of woe, her heart aching for the mistakes she’d made and the hand life so unfairly dealt him.
“Let’s go,” she said impulsively. “I’ll drive us back home.”
One dark brow raised in question, but the rest of Kian’s face remained stoic. She realized, with a start, that he’d learned that from his time as a cop. It was the face he probably used to interrogate people. Try as she might, it was nearly impossible to imagine him on the other side of the law when he looked the way he did now, black t-shirt straining over layers of muscle and ink blackened skin, ripped jeans. His usual leather jacket was missing, but probably not far. He’d likely run out of his shop without it.
“Home?” He said the word like he didn’t know what it truly meant. “To which house?” he finally added.
“To… to mine,” she whispered in a strangled voice. She couldn’t look at him any longer. “You might try and drive me away, but you’re not going to succeed. I’ve tried to keep myself away and I’ve failed.”
Kian’s hand shot out and gripped hers on the tabletop. He applied so much pressure it was almost painful. Her eyes shot up in alarm. His touch burned her and his eyes glowed with an almost feral light.
“I’m not the kind of man you can save.”
She was very aware that she was playing with fire, but hell, at the moment she wanted to be burned. “I’m not trying to save you.”
“No? It sure feels that way.”
“I wasn’t talking about salvation.”
Kian scrubbed his free hand over his face. “That’s funny. Ironic, I guess, because that’s sure what it felt like the other night.”
Katelyn had the distinct, uncomfortable feeling that he hadn’t meant to admit as much. His lips pressed together in a thin, hard line. The heat of awareness, of animal hunger, of a want and a need that felt so utterly right, spread over her, capturing her body in a tight, unrelenting hold.
She tugged her hand out of Kian’s grip, drug in her purse and produced her keys. When she looked up at him, her eyes focused on his face fearlessly and her words were unfaltering. “When I said home I meant your place. I don’t know what we found the other night, but I know I want more. And if it’s salvation is it the worst thing in the world?”
Kian’s throat bobbed hard. He shocked her when he let out a low chuckle. It was heated and filled with the thick, sexual tension that suddenly flared between them. “No. Not when it seems like we both need it so damn bad.”
Chapter 17
The Light
Katelyn
The first time they’d had each other, it hadn’t been slow. It had been wild and driven, heated. It had been dark. It wasn’t dark this time. It was the middle of the afternoon and there they stood, again in Kian’s bedroom, their clothes in a tangled pile on the floor, the soft light seeping through the blinds playing over her pale skin, illuminating the black ink on his.
She couldn’t remember a time she’d ever been so bold. She wanted him to look at her. To see her. To explore her and leave her trembling and untouched. She wanted him to taste her, to drive her into madness. Almost as badly as she wanted to do it to him.
The golden glow in the room glinted off the fine web of lines at the corners of Kian’s eyes and lips. They could have been put there, those tiny etched crevices, by smiling or laughter, but she k
new they weren’t. They were etched there by grief, by being forced to walk the hardest road of all, a road in which your child went before you. A road in which you don’t get to grow old with your partner, a road in which all that should have been yours has been savagely ripped away.
He met her gaze and his eyes filled with sudden understanding. She felt odd, standing there unclothed, having such dark thoughts. “It might not be the best time to tell you this,” he said in a voice that could have been called tender. “But I’m tired of being alone. So very tired of the emptiness of this house, of my life, of my heart.”
“Kian, I…” I what? How was she supposed to finish that statement? I want to be there for you? I want to be your everything? It’s not natural to feel this way after so short a time, but I do. Like we were made for each other despite everything. “I want you just as you are,” she finally whispered. It could have been pathetic, that statement, but she could tell from the glow in his black eyes that he was moved.
“I want you… I want to teach you how incredible you are. I want to show you… how much is possible.”
She blushed violently. “I bet you say that to all the girls.” Her attempt at a joke fell awkwardly flat until Kian cleared his throat.
“You’re the only one I’ve been with… since it happened. The accident. You’re the only woman I have ever wanted. I tried so hard to keep you away. To keep you from touching me, seeing me, who I really am, and now… you’re here. You’re here- with me.” He had to force the last words out.
Katelyn felt perilously close to tears. She wanted to weep for his pain and her pain and the redemption she found in his arms. In how much they both needed each other and how it had come so close to not happening. How it might not happen still. No, she wouldn’t let him push her away this time. This time, she was here, as he said.
She’d imagined, that the second time they did this, if there ever was another time, they would explore each other in slow, erotic, sensual exploration. They would touch and lick, kiss and caress. She imagined, like a fool, that the fires of their first encounter would have dimmed and somehow they could be slower, sweeter.
How wrong she was. They both stepped forward at the same time, wild heat springing to life between them. Sparks flared and flames shot off as though they were gasoline and oxygen, feeding the passionate flames that blossomed in their souls.
Kian’s hands encircled her waist. He gently pushed her towards his bed and she went without complaint. She loved the heat of his skin, the press of his muscular chest against the tips of her breasts, the way his cock brushed her thigh, her stomach, pressing into her as he did. Most of all she loved the spice of his natural scent, the heady male scent that was a mixture of so many natural and emotional components.
They reached the bed and Kian bent his head. His lips were just a fraction from hers. So close, so very close. His hand fell away from her waist and stroked lower, running the length of her thigh in a gloriously sensual caress. Her breath hitched as a flood of feeling swept over her.
She curled her own hand around one of his massive biceps. The skin was sleek, so soft over that rock hard muscle below. Katelyn stared at the black swirls for a second, appreciating them in the full light of the room before Kian’s lips crashed over hers and her eyes slammed shut.
The half moan, half whimper that escaped her lips was captured by the force of Kian’s kiss. He sipped at her mouth, licked at her lips, bit her bottom lip gently until she parted for him, gave him everything.
His hand, his amazing hand, which had been temporarily forgotten in the searing heat of his mouth, trailed up her thigh and didn’t stop until he found her core, soaking wet, aching, pulsing for his touch. Her hips ground into his hand while his thumb and index finger worked her. He stayed away from her clit, skimming over it in a way that drove her out of her skin with frustration. When he found her entrance and one finger, slick with her own juices, slid inside, she couldn’t stop her hips from bucking wildly, from grinding into him. She loved the way he filled her, the way he moved his finger back and forth while he caressed the rest of her, skimming over her clit over and over.
Kian broke away and rasped, almost painfully, in her ear. “Is this enough for you or do you want my cock?”
The way he said it sounded filthy, dirty in a way that made her whole body pulse with anticipation. “Yes,” she forced out, amazed she could get even one coherent word together. His finger moved inside of her again, stealing her ability to concentrate.
“Good, because I want to be inside of you so badly it aches.”
Chapter 18
The Greatest Risk
Kian
It was true. He did ache. All over. His entire body screamed for release. He wanted to throw Katelyn down on his bed, spread her legs open and taste her beautiful pussy. He wanted to suckle those beautiful breasts with the pink nipples, peaked so hard they were probably painful. He wanted to lick and taste every single inch of her skin.
Except he wasn’t going to do that. Yet. No, he had one single thread remaining on the frayed rope that held his self-control together. If he so much as tasted her, touched her anywhere, he was going to lose it. He needed to be inside of her in a way that made him frantic, half crazed, like a man possessed.
It scared the shit out of him, but it was also oddly freeing; as if by binding him to her, she’d done something to his burden weary, grief heavy soul. He’d tried to chase her away. It hadn’t worked. He’d opened himself up, confessed, albeit briefly, his darkest secrets, his greatest guilt and his rawest pain. And she was still there. She’d said she wasn’t trying to save him, but she already had and he knew it.
And that scared the hell out of him too. Being with her, opening himself up again, it was the greatest risk he ever could have taken.
It’s a risk I can’t not take. She’s been with me from the first time I opened my eyes and saw her face. I knew that she was made to be mine. My angel. My redemption. My second chance.
“Then do it. Put your cock inside of me. I want to feel you. I need you to fill me.”
Her words, whispered in a heady, husky breath, slayed him. He moved fast, every single muscle in his body begging for relief from the agony that held them captive. He turned Katelyn so she was facing the bed. He guided her gently, swiftly, bending her from the waist. She obeyed neatly, putting her palms face down on the bed.
He groaned at the sight of her beautiful, round ass. Her pussy glistened, swollen and pink and so very ready for him.
He didn’t go slowly or gently. Neither of them needed that. It wasn’t what either of them wanted. She cried out as he entered her, sliding in easily because they were both soaking wet. Katelyn whimpered and from behind her, he watched her hands turn into tiny little fists, gripping the white duvet on his bed.
He pulled out slowly, waited, torturing her, torturing them both. Katelyn’s mewling plea of disappointment nearly set him off. She wriggled her hips, pleading with him, begging for him to fill her. When he did they both groaned. She writhed against him, her inner muscles gripping him tight with every long stroke. He pulsed inside of her, teasing her gently, but also giving himself a chance to breathe, to compose himself, to wait for her.
Katelyn was all hot, wild need, a pillar of fire in his arms. She writhed against him, taking her own pleasure, creating her own rhythm. He gave her everything she wanted, thrusting in time to her grinding. When he couldn’t take it anymore, her delicious movements, her glorious slick tightness, the sight of him sinking into her body over and over again, he reached around and applied the sweetest pressure to her clit.
As he knew she would, she came in a panting, liquid rush. Her inner muscles gripped his cock tight as she shook and trembled in his arms. She didn’t make a sound, didn’t gasp for air or cry out. It was all the more erotic for the way he felt her come. He held fast to her hips, her trembles shaking into his fingers, vibrating up his arms.
It only took one more thrust and he was finished. He longed to b
ury himself inside of her, to come in hot bursts, to fill her up, but he didn’t dare. He was playing with fire as it was, and he assumed, that because she let him, she must know it was safe. She must be on some form of contraceptive, but he wasn’t taking chances.
He pulled out, though it nearly killed him. He shuddered hard, soundlessly also, as he came on her back and her hips. His cock kicked hard and violent tremors shook him.
When it was over, he grabbed his underwear, not the sexiest thing he’d ever done, and cleaned himself off of her. She waited, patiently, not at all shy over what they’d just done- in broad daylight.
When Katelyn turned, her eyes silently begged him, beckoned him. She wanted him to hold her. She wanted him in his bed, with her, their limbs tangled once more, sweetly, his warms wrapped around her, their souls becoming one.
He couldn’t have done it even a few weeks ago. He’d turned her away because he feared that intimacy most of all.
It shocked both of them when he moved over the head of the bed and slowly peeled back the blankets and sheets. Katelyn’s gaze met his. Her eyes held all the warm sweetness in the world, a look that reached right down into him and gripped his soul. That look, the emotion in her eyes, the tender warmth that held so much feeling, it was all he needed. It was all he’d been trying to find for years, everything he feared, everything that had the power to change his life and who he was.
He should have ran, should have pushed her away, should have crawled back into his shell of safety and protection, but he didn’t. Instead he crawled into that bed and welcomed her into his arms, into his soul, into a heart so withered it almost wasn’t there at all. By some miracle, she’d brought him back, changed him, loved him even, in that small, far too early, far too soon, way. Yes, he should have ran, but he didn’t.
Chapter 19
Betrayal
Katelyn
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