Nailed Down

by Chelle Bliss

  “Hold on. Wait a second. You want to…” She wouldn’t listen and kept a death grip on the railing, putting her forehead against the metal as she took quick, uneven breaths. “Kit…”

  “I know I’m a coward. I know it. Jess was right. I’m a chicken. I know, Kane, you don’t have to… But…God!” She straightened, turning her back on the landing and the stretch of forest around us as she glared at me. “This was an intensely bad idea.”

  “If you don’t do this, you’re gonna regret it.”

  Kit knew I was right. She understood that I was pushing, that I was only trying to help do the thing she wanted. It was written on her features—the disappointment mixed up with the fear. So, I kept pushing, hating the way her fear, her wild, manic worry, twisted up something inside my chest. I’d do any damn thing she wanted, and I knew, no matter what she said, this was the thing she wanted. This was an item she had to tick off her bucket list.

  “Kane, I’m scared.”

  Those three words did me in. Something shifted inside my head and pushed aside the worry I had over letting Kit see anything in me that would make her think our friendship wasn’t enough for me. I’d admit to myself and no one else that I felt something old and primitive for her, something I hadn’t been able to shake for five years. But damn if I’d let even that get in the way of keeping her safe. More than anything, I wanted to take that fear out of her eyes.

  “I got you,” I told her, motioning to the kid running the zip line. “We’ll go tandem.”

  “That’ll cost extra,” he tried, but I stopped his explanation with a quick glare. “Your choice, man.”

  And it was. I knew it. Even if there was a loud, bitchy voice in my head telling me not to get too close, telling me strapping myself to her was an epic level of dumb, I tuned it out. Kit needed me to take the worry from her, and I’d damn well do that.

  But I hadn’t expected her to be behind me. I hadn’t expected her to wrap her legs around my waist and her arms over my chest. I damn sure didn’t expect the heat from her panting mouth to move between my shoulder blades as she buried her face against my back.

  “Go on three,” the kid said, tapping my shoulder. He nodded at my thumbs-up and then started the countdown.

  “One…”

  “Kit, you gotta give me a little room to breathe here.” But Kit didn’t budge.

  In fact, when the kid shouted, “Two,” her grip got tighter and her nails sank into my chest.

  “Come on, don’t be a chicken…”

  “Three!”

  There was a small tug, and then we pushed off the landing. Kit pressed tighter against me, ankles locked, pussy warm against my back.

  “Fuck,” I muttered and, of course, she managed to hear that.

  “What? What’s wrong? What is it?” Her voice was loud, panicked, and she was breathing like she’d just run a marathon. “Kane, what’s wrong?”

  I couldn’t admit a damn thing to her. What the hell was I supposed to say? Oh, nothing, Kit Kat. I just like the way you feel wrapped around me, that hot little pussy of yours warming my skin? She’d claw my eyes out.

  “Nothing,” I finally said. “Except you’re missing all this.” I slipped my hand over hers, smoothing my thumb against her skin, hoping it would calm her a little because she was missing something remarkable. The trees sped by, shooting out a rainbow of greens and browns, like some sort of Technicolor cascade right out of a painting. The only thing that made that mad riot of colors look pale and simple was the arch of Mount Rainier straight ahead of us. We careened toward it; those peaks and streaks of white from the snowcaps were brilliant against the midday sun. All the beauty mingled with the sweet sensation of Kit wrapped around me, and I felt a little punch-drunk.

  “Fuck’s sake, Kit, open your damn eyes and trust that I won’t let anything happen to you!”

  My shouting got her attention, and I felt the slide of her cheek, then her chin against my back. The warmth from her open mouth moved up my back to my shoulder, and the vise grip on my chest went a little slack.

  “Oh,” she said, though I could barely make out the word. I glanced over my shoulder, squinting as I watched her profile. She looked around us, to the landscape and forest below, then to the mountain as she turned her head. She was beautiful. So fucking beautiful, and in that instant, I realized there was no way in hell I could push down what I felt for her. There’d be no gullet deep enough, no part of my brain dark enough to keep the light and color of Kit dim.

  “Oh God,” she said, sounding amazed. “Kane…”

  The ride took minutes, maybe, but I prayed it would last forever. Being there with Kit, having her body pressed against mine, watching that awed expression over her face, how the fear left in segments, from fright to worry to dread that shifted and blinked out of her eyes. Then came the calm, the swell of wonder and a bunch of other things I wasn’t poetic enough to describe. I only knew that she’d never looked more beautiful to me. Not with a shit-ton of makeup on her face or her sporting some designer gown the studio made her squeeze into that one time she’d agreed to make an appearance at the Emmys.

  Right then, with Kit watching the majesty around us, I knew I loved her. And I knew, as we slowed to a stop, as she jumped and squealed when the workers released her from the harness, when she went straight at me when I got the harness off, I just knew there wasn’t anyone else I wanted but Kit Carlyle.

  “Kane, thank you,” she said, hugging me tightly, tugging my face down between her fingers before she kissed my cheek. “Thank you so much.”

  Yep. I was well and truly fucked.

  Lucky’s was packed by the time we left the mountain. Kit hadn’t taken a breath the entire time we drove back in my truck, jabbering away about the adrenaline rush and the mountain and how she thought the world “went by in a fucking whirl,” as she put it.

  We’d spent an hour at the bar, drinking our way through three beers each, and now Kit was on to some fruity pink drink she swore was the best thing she’d put in her mouth. It took fucking effort not to make a comment on that one.

  “To the bucket list,” she said, offering that pink drink toward my half-empty Guinness for yet another toast. This made the fourth one in the past two hours. “And to Jess.” Kit went a little quiet then, and those hummingbird eyelashes of hers went to work. “My cousin. For pushing me to do this shit.” She sipped, then seemed to think of something and pulled the glass away from her mouth. “And to you, Kane. For making me do it!”

  I laughed, eyes wide as she downed the drink in one swallow. “Shit, you’re drunk,” I said, laughing.

  Kit shrugged, dancing in her spot on her stool. “Oh, I love this song.” She lifted her arms, and the hem of her shirt tugged up. I had to force my gaze around the bar, then back into my glass. “Kane, dance with me. Come on.” She had one foot on the floor and the other still resting on the stool. “I love Prince. This is so much better than the Sinead O’Connor version. Come on.”

  I was about to say no. I didn’t fucking dance, no matter who asked, but Kit stumbled, and I caught her. That low plead in her voice made me swallow back the moan that threatened to leave my mouth. And then, the asshole on the stool next to us stood, stepping to Kit’s side.

  “Come on, darlin’. I’ll dance with you.” I knew this guy. At least, I’d seen him around. The jackass had gotten drunk three weeks ago, and Crystal had thrown him out on his ass. I’d also seen him working around the bar this entire night, getting turned down by nearly every woman in the place before he settled on the stool near our side of the bar.

  “The lady asked me,” I told him, standing up. He didn’t put up much of a fight, stepping back to look up at me before he shrugged and walked away. I took Kit’s hand, ignoring how good it felt in mine, before I slammed down the rest of my beer and led her to the dance floor.

  “Mmm,” Kit said, the vibration of her voice moving against my chest as she rested against me. She was a good foot shorter than me and I had to lean down,
but the awkward position didn’t bother me.

  “It’s a good song,” I told her, not caring if anyone except Kit could see how close I held her or how I tried to subtly inhale the scent of her hair as we danced.

  “It’s the best.” She straightened, stretching her arms over my shoulders, eyelids heavy, smile lazy and a little ridiculous. “Prince…he was the best.”

  “Agreed,” I said, watching her lashes as she blinked, amazed how they were so long that they fell to the curve of her cheeks. Her face was smooth, lineless, but there was the smallest scar along her bottom lip. I’d never been this close to her, had never once noticed that scar, but didn’t want to mention it. Not when she curled closer to me, my name slurring a little when she spoke it.

  “Kane.” She said my name like it was something that felt good on her tongue, each syllable a tease I couldn’t help loving. “Thank you, Kane.” Then Kit blinked, her movements slowing, and I followed her, barely moving my feet as the song went on. I was too caught up in the way she let her tongue slide against her bottom lip, how she opened her eyes, and there was no drunken tease in the smile that shook as she watched me. “Thank you,” she purred, and I stopped moving altogether, struck dumb by how slowly Kit’s thumb moved against my bottom lip, how she pressed close, eyelids shutting as she whispered “Thank you” again.

  And then, with the entire bar laughing and drinking around us, with my heart pounding like a drumline on play-off night, my friend Kit stretched up to her toes and pulled my face down, my mouth to hers, as she stole my breath with one long, slow, perfectly wet kiss.

  5

  Kit

  “Fuck,” he said as he thrust forward, sliding his long, hard cock deeper inside me. “Wanted this, wanted you for a long damn time.” He filled me completely, stealing my breath as well as my ability to speak.

  If I’d spent too much time thinking about what was happening, I wouldn’t have been underneath Kane and about to have the most earth-shattering orgasm of my life.

  “Me too,” I admitted and locked my ankles behind his ass, holding his body to mine. I could’ve stayed like that forever. Our bodies moved together in a perfect sensual dance with no sounds other than our breathy moans and our skin slapping together.

  He reared back, hovering above me and stared down with hungry eyes. “So. Fucking. Good.” I wasn’t sure if he was talking about sex or what this meant for our relationship.

  I closed my eyes, forgetting the flurry of feelings building inside me and dug my fingernails into his skin, almost piercing the soft flesh to get at his hardness underneath.

  Every muscle in my body quaked as he pummeled me time and time again. In and out. In and out. Each thrust becoming more laser focused as if he knew just the right spot to hit.

  “Kit.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” I mumbled with my eyes closed and my head tipped back, enjoying every minute of my little fantasy.

  “What do you want me to do with this?”

  My eyes flew open, going wide as they met the confused gaze of Dale. “Huh?” I scrambled out of my chair and ran my palm over the patch of exposed skin just above my breasts. “What?”

  “This beam.” He motioned with his head toward the fireplace as he swatted at the sawdust on the sleeves of his flannel shirt. “You never told me which stain you want me to use. I want to get that in place before lunch.”

  “Oh…um.” My fingers worked the edge of my V-neck, fumbling with the material while I tried to get my mind from where it had been and back to where it was supposed to be. “Mahogany,” I blurted out because it was the only thing I could think of after Dale caught me off guard.

  He turned his head, giving me a sideways glance. “You okay?”

  I gave him a big smile, totally terrified that he could read my mind and every dirty thought that had just gone through it. “Just perfect.”

  Dale took a step forward and lowered his head. “You sure?”

  “Yeah.” I wanted to ask why, but I didn’t want to know if I was that easy to read. I glanced around, ready to change the subject before I said something I’d regret. “Where’s Kane?”

  “He stormed out of here ’bout ten minutes ago. He’s grumpier than normal today. Who the hell pissed in his Wheaties?”

  “You know Kane.” I grabbed my design folder off the table and was ready to head for the door because I wasn’t in the sharing mood, and I knew Dale would ask something else I wasn’t ready to answer. “I better go find him.”

  “Mahogany. You sure about that?”

  “Totally,” I shot over my shoulder before stepping outside, leaving Dale and everyone else inside. Everyone except Kane.

  His profile was unmistakable and stopped me dead in my tracks. He leaned on his truck with his hands hanging over the bed, staring at the ground and looking like he was talking to himself.

  More times than I cared to admit, I replayed the moment our lips touched last night. The way he wrapped his arms around my back after I took him by surprise and held me against his rock-hard body. Time seemed to evaporate, and the music in the bar slowed along with our movements.

  I never would’ve kissed him if it hadn’t been for the alcohol that buzzed through my system and totally fucked with my common sense. Sure, I’d thought about what it would’ve been like to kiss Kane. He was beautiful, rugged, the right kind of man who’d make sure a woman he was with was taken care of in every possible way. I’d imagined Kane and me kissing, touching, at least a hundred times, but I never thought I’d actually do it.

  The pink drink tipped me over the edge and stripped me of all rational comprehension. The adrenaline from the zip line hadn’t worn off either, and the combination was like a one-two punch of stupid.

  The way we danced, close and slow, didn’t help make things clearer. Add kissing Kane to the mix, and it was the cherry on the proverbial sundae.

  “Kit,” he called out across the yard while I seemed to be frozen on the front porch, gawking at him like a complete weirdo. “You need me?”

  I almost choked on my own spit when he asked that, but I played it off as best I could. “Nope. Good. Don’t need a thing.”

  Kane raised an eyebrow and tilted his head because he knew my bullshit meter was off the charts. The man knew me better than anyone. Clearing my throat, I clutched the design folder tightly against my chest, trying to throw up my “Kane will not affect me” shield. “I thought we could go over the plans for this afternoon.”

  In typically smooth fashion, he pushed off the truck and strutted toward me like something out of a wet dream. My mouth watered as he moved toward me. His well-defined, thick arms swayed with each step, and he caught my gaze, which lingered a little longer than I anticipated.

  “You okay?” he asked, standing in front of me with the same look Dale had given me.

  Get your shit together, Kit.

  I blinked, shaking all thoughts from my head, and managed a tight smile. “Perfect. I was just thinking about how much we still have to do to get this place ready.”

  “Don’t worry, Kit,” he said, and my eyes followed his lips, watching his tongue as it swept across his bottom lip. “I’ll make shit happen.”

  “So…” I stalled for a moment because my mind went all kinds of places it shouldn’t have gone. No matter how good it was, the kiss was a mistake, a line I crossed that I knew neither one of us was ready for. But the pink drink…enough said. I was just about to pull the paperwork from the folder on the kitchen island when my stomach rumbled, filling the silence.

  His eyes dipped, lingering on my chest for just a second before they landed on my noisy stomach. “Wanna talk about it over lunch?”

  “Yes,” I said quickly because soon my stomach wasn’t going to be the only thing making a fool out of me.

  I never had this much trouble concentrating around Kane. Years we’d worked together without issue. One kiss, the best kiss I’d ever had, but still…it only took one kiss to turn it all upside down and alter everything we were and probab
ly would be as we moved forward.

  “How about the little joint by the river?”

  “Mmm,” I moaned softly, and Kane’s eyes dropped to my mouth just like mine did to his.

  Kane’s lips parted as he sucked in a quick breath, but he recovered and motioned toward his pickup. “Hop in. We’ll be back before the crew’s done with their lunch.”

  I couldn’t argue. I was hungry, and the guys still had to take their lunch. It would be well over an hour before anything much got done, and I loved the little café near the river. Kane and I had eaten hundreds of meals with each other over the years. Not once had any of our meals been awkward or abnormal.

  But then, we’d never kissed before either.

  Kane sat across from me, leaning back in the booth as I fumbled with the silverware after we’d ordered and couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eyes. “I’ve been thinking.”

  “About?”

  “Well.” My mouth suddenly went dry, and I couldn’t say another word with my tongue practically glued to the back of my lips. Grabbing the water glass, I finally let my eyes wander to his as I gulped it down, not stopping until the contents were half gone.

  He crooked an eyebrow, watching me closely, but didn’t say a word. That was Kane. The strong, silent type, typically unreadable to most, but never me. But as I sat across from him, trying to avoid the conversation of last night, I couldn’t think of anything else.

  “Oh. My. God,” a waitress said as she approached our table. Her gaze moved from me to Kane, sweeping across his upper body and soaking in every morsel of his rock-hard goodness. “Betty, it’s them.”

  “Hey.” I smiled, not unused to the attention of fans, especially in small little towns like this.

  Kane’s jaw tightened, but he somehow managed a tight, yet friendly smile. “How’s it going?”