by K. L. Kreig
“A baby?” I realize I’m repeating everything Richard is telling me, but god damn. I am in total disbelief over everything that’s happened in the last ten minutes. When I try to meet Killian’s eyes, this time, he looks away.
I am blown the fuck away right now. Killian cheated on Maverick with her sister? He’s expecting a baby? With Jillian? And now he’s going to marry her?
Fucking hell.
I have a thousand unnamed feelings rushing through my body right now. So many I can’t catch them all, but the one I do latch on to as it spins by is fury. Hot, raging fury.
That cheating bastard. Regardless of whether I wanted to acknowledge it or not, Maverick is in love with Killian and he just threw her away like she didn’t matter.
He cheated on her.
With. Her. Sister.
Mother. Fucker.
I walked down the hallway just minutes ago ready to let him have everything I’ve ever wanted because that’s what Maverick wants. And even though it isn’t me, I want her to have everything her heart desires.
But he doesn’t deserve her.
He obviously never has.
“Congratulations, Killian. That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.” That brings him back. And we hold each other’s eyes for what feels like a full unbroken minute. His anger matches mine. “I’ll get to work on those documents right away, Richard.”
I walk out of that meeting, those muddled emotions now untwining. The rage is still raw and fiery. I want to shake my father. I want to demand he tell me just what the hell he thinks he was doing stealing from his best friend and why he’s now making criminals out of all of us.
But more than anything I want to punch Killian’s fucking face in because this will absolutely crush Maverick. The last thing I want is to see her hurt by anyone but especially by this. Betrayed by her lover and her own sister? Jesus Christ. I can’t even fathom. No one deserves that.
Along with anger, though, I feel a whole host of other things.
Heartbreak.
Disbelief.
Grief.
Shame.
Gratitude.
But most of all…hope. Hope: A new breath. A fresh start. A prayer that was answered at the very moment I decided to throw in the towel.
Could this be a new chance for me? For us? With Killian no longer available, is it possible I can get her to see me as more than just her best friend?
I don’t know, but I’m sure as hell gonna try because as much as this will crush her, I have been handed a gift and I am not squandering it. I’ll be there to comfort Maverick, to get her through what I’m sure will be the worst time of her life, but hope that my chance with her is not entirely lost is already ballooning up.
I’ll give her time. Of course I’ll give her all the time she needs to put her shattered heart back together, but then I’m going in. And I’m not going to give up until she’s in the safety of both my arms and my heart.
I will never hurt her like Killian. Never.
It’s been two weeks since Kael left Dusty Falls to start his new job. Two weeks apart. Two weeks of uncertainty, our future in limbo. Two weeks, and I still have no idea what I’m going to do.
Caught red-handed, Kael and Killian stood in that shadowed alleyway and divulged their whole sordid, un-fucking-believable story. About the lies, the deceit, the illegal and immoral acts they both participated in. In some sick way, I understand why they both did it, but facts are facts.
And the facts are: Kael lied to me. He deceived me for years. He confessed he knew about Killian and my sister all this time. Even drew up a prenup. He knew how devastated I was about that wedding, yet he still said nothing. I don’t know how to forgive him for that. All I’ve been doing is soul-searching, but there are no cut-and-dry answers to be found. My trust is stripped. I don’t know how to tape it back together.
Everyone who is supposed to love me lied to me. Kael, Killian, my father. Even Jillian. Killian confessed that Jilly also knew about the embezzlement, so she lied, too. Even my mother was in on it. The only innocent in this whole scandal is Eilish Shepard. Both Kael and Killian assure me she doesn’t know a thing. I believe them. They’ve both risked jail time to protect their father. It’s not a stretch to think they’d go to the ends of the earth to do the same for their mother.
“Hey, did I interrupt?” I ask when she answers.
“Uh, no.” MaryLou’s heavy breathing on the other end is a dead giveaway. The only exercise she gets is bedroom aerobics.
“Why’d you even answer the phone? Go back to making babies.”
“I’m not—” Crack.
“Did he just slap your ass?”
“Knock it off,” she yells in a loud whisper. Larry chuckles and MaryLou squeals.
“We’ll talk in the morning,” I tell her. I need to get off the phone before I hear moans or the hum of a vibe in the background.
I’m getting ready to hang up when she says, “Larry can wait. I’ll be over in ten.”
I sigh. Do I want her to leave her husband with blue balls? Selfishly, yes. But I’m also not even sure why I’m calling. I’m talked out. I’m thought out. I’m all emotioned out. There’s nothing left to do but make a decision. One I can’t seem to make. The taste of betrayal is bitter and hard to get rid of.
I glance out my kitchen window, staring into the dark night. “Nah. I’m not even home. I’m driving around.”
“You sure, Mavricky? We can meet somewhere.”
“No. Forget it. See you in the morning.”
“Okay. If you’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
We hang up. I stand there for a few minutes, thinking that I should be in bed. It’s close to ten and I have to be up at four in the morning. But the emptiness of this house and my heart is weighing on me so heavy, I feel as if I’m drowning under its oppression.
Scooping up my keys from the counter, I find myself in my car, driving purposefully through town. Then, parked in a familiar grassy place, I make a phone call and wait, while I reminisce on a night I have no business replaying, waiting for someone I have no business waiting for…
“We shouldn’t be here.”
“This is exactly where we should be,” I tell him quietly. We’ve been zigzagging around us too long. It’s time. I scoot across the bench seat until you couldn’t fit a piece of paper between us.
“Someone could see us.”
“There’s not another car in the whole park,” I retort. “And besides, it’s dark and we’re so far back from the road no one will see.”
“Maverick,” he hisses when my hand goes to the growing bulge in his jeans. I grip it. I stroke it. I get wet between my legs and my mouth waters. I start to draw down the zipper, the metal teeth separating to reveal a cock so big it looks shrink-wrapped in his black briefs.
I don’t look at him, instead keeping my attention focused on the prize begging to be released. I want to, though. I want to look into his eyes as I take his cock in my hand, in my mouth. I want to see them haze over with his want for me as he swells and explodes. But I don’t. Because if I do, my fear is he’ll stop this. And I’m tired of stopping. Tonight he’s going to be mine. If I have my way, he’ll be mine forever.
His breaths have picked up now. They’re quick and shallow. His head thuds softly against his headrest. He’s not stopping me, so I keep going. I slip my hand inside the elastic band of his underwear and boldly slide the briefs down over his hardness until it stands tall and proud.
“God,” I mutter.
“Fuuuuck,” he breathes at the same time when I wrap my fingers around him.
He’s thick and huge and a heavy vein runs the length of his underside. I trace it from the base and his dick jumps in my hand. When I reach the tip that looks like the top of a mushroom, I swipe my thumb over the glistening bead of wetness leaking out.
“Maverick, Jesus Christ.” His hand fists in my hair. He yanks my head back and slams his mouth onto mine. He shoves his tongue ins
ide, sweeping in long, demanding strokes. He bites my bottom lip until it hurts so fucking good I’m moaning his name. He takes and takes, dominating me in the way I’ve always imagined. Then he holds me still, his savage eyes drilling into me. “Put my cock in your mouth.”
I want that. I do, but damn, I’ve waited nearly twenty-three years for him. For this. “I want to feel you inside me.”
“And I will be inside you, Small Fry, but I need to sink inside that mouth first. I’ve fantasized a thousand times over the years of you sucking me off. Don’t make me beg.”
God. His confession. It dances all over my skin, chills joining the party. The side of my lip twitches in play. “I think I might like to hear you beg for once.”
His eyes hold fast to mine and he whispers a simple plea I’ll never, ever forget. I’ll always remember the way his lips pressed together when he said it. I’ll hear the gravelly, eager vibration of his voice when I drift off to sleep at night. And the way I feel everything he’s feeling for me when he sincerely utters, “Please,” will be branded on my soul for life.
He guides my head to his lap. His moves are slow and gentle and he keeps his hand wound around my hair as I grip him tighter in anticipation.
I don’t tease. I go in with purpose. I wrap my lips around his girth and push my way downward until he’s as far as I can take him. I drag back up, working my tongue against his velvety flesh. I do this over and over again, working him into a frenzy. Until I’m drawing those moans and entreaties from his lips I’ve been dying to hear my whole life. He stiffens. The muscles in his thighs harden. I know he’s seconds from releasing down my throat when he uses my hair as leverage, yanking me off.
“Wha—”
A fiery kiss ashes that thought. His hands start tearing at my blouse. It’s over my head. My bra is off. He’s ravenous, sucking at my neck, my nipples, and down my quivering belly while he works my shorts and panties down my legs until I’m completely naked. He rids himself of his own shirt and has a condom rolled over his hard length before I can count to five. His own shorts are in a pool under his feet, along with his briefs, and then, with my back against the leather seat, he’s hovering over me, gloriously bare. I run my hands all over him, loving the feel of his muscles bunching and flexing as I pass over them. God in heaven, he’s gorgeous.
“The first time I come with you, it will be together,” he tells me passionately as he works his dick between my wet folds and starts to push inside.
This is happening. This is really happening.
“Oh shit, Killian.” My eyes want to roll in my head as he works his way in. I want to weep with how fantastic he feels stretching my tight tissues until he fits as if we were made just for this. But I don’t do either. We stay locked on each other, neither of us able to break away.
“Goddamn, you feel good. So good, Maverick. So wet, so tight. So…fuck.” His voice is strained, contradicting his movements. He’s slow and purposeful, lighting each nerve ending on fire as he inches in and out at a frustrating pace. I can tell he’s holding back. I can tell because his body is shaking with the effort.
“Fuck me. Hard.” I want him to let go. Take me. Possess me.
His dark gaze widens a second before he drives back in, his hips slapping roughly against mine, making me gasp and want more. But instead of moving he holds himself still. “I’m not fucking you, Maverick.”
“But—”
Cupping my cheeks, he puts a thumb over my mouth. His sweet words make me cry. “I’m going to make love to you slowly, Small Fry. I’ve waited too long to take you like it’s a meaningless act. This means more to me than you can possibly know. I’m going to worship your body, love your heart, own your soul, and make sure you remember this night for the rest of your life.”
It’s not possible to ever forget, I want to say. Instead, “I love you, Killian,” breaks through along with a small sob. I’ve never felt as loved as I do right now. Or as happy.
He presses his lips to mine, kissing me as slow as he makes love to me. “I love you, Maverick. I have always loved you.”
“You okay?” he asks, sliding inside my car. The door shuts with a resounding click and the moment it does, I feel his presence suck up the entire space in my small vehicle. My stomach flips over a couple of times. I begin to breathe a little harder.
“Yeah,” I reply, now positively short on breath.
He stares, trying to figure out why I’ve called him. Why I asked him to come. Why we’re here, of all places.
What are you doing, Maverick?
“I need some air.”
I hop out, not bothering to see if he’s followed. I walk around the front of my car and lean against the hood. It’s still warm to the touch. It didn’t take him long to get here. I listen to the crickets stroke their legs together, along with the smooth rush of the river not far away.
Killian steps beside me, careful to leave an appropriate amount of space, whatever that is. A state away may not even be appropriate enough.
“How’s the new job?”
“I don’t know. He’s giving me space.” We’ve texted a few times, but other than one short talk we had a few nights ago, which may have prompted me to come here tonight, I haven’t talked to Kael since he left. I spent Saturday night at MaryLou’s and waited to go home on Sunday until I knew Kael had left for the cities. I also haven’t seen or spoken to Killian since that night.
“What am I doing here, Maverick?”
I don’t know. I don’t fucking know. “I didn’t know who else to call.”
His exhale is heavy as he reaches for my hand. His fingers curl over mine. They feel warm. Reassuring. I shouldn’t let him touch me. I should be with Kael right now. In Saint Paul working things out between us. I should be anywhere but here. Secluded. In the dark of Harbor Park, alone with a man I still care too much about, in the exact same spot we consummated our relationship.
Stupidity at its finest, right here.
“MaryLou busy?”
“Yes,” I answer quietly. She’s fucking her husband Fifty-Shades style trying to get the little swimmers to latch on to her elusive eggs. She’s probably inverted as we speak.
His question is expected and thick with anxiety. “How do I make things right between us, Small Fry?”
Hmm. I wish I knew.
From where we’re perched, we have a perfect view of the Swinging Bridge, one of the oldest suspension bridges in Iowa. I spent a lot of time in this park. On that bridge. Most of my friends refused to cross it when they were little because the sway scared them. The more people on the bridge, the more sway. But not me. I craved the freedom I felt when I was swinging from side to side, even if it was subtle. Now as an adult, when I cross that bridge, it doesn’t hold near the allure it used to when I was little. It seems small and functional, not imposing and potentially life ending.
“Do you remember when Kael and I jumped off suicide cliff?” Suicide cliff is just on the other side of the Swinging Bridge. It’s the only way to get to the high cliffs that tower above the Keg River about forty feet.
Killian chuckles lowly. “Yeah, I remember.”
He was livid. Threatened to take me over his knee and spank my ass red if I jumped. Little did he know that only fueled my fire. I was just thirteen at the time. Kael was sixteen. Killian eighteen. It was one of the last things I did with Killian before he left for college that August.
“You were so mad.”
He’s quiet for quite a few beats. His hand leaves mine as he crosses one arm over the other. “I still had nightmares of you drowning, Maverick. Of pushing air into your water-filled lungs. That horrifying shade of blue on your lips. Of how stiff your limbs were. Christ, if I had it my way, you’d never have even taken a bath again.”
I laugh, but he doesn’t. I turn my head to study his profile. He’s dead serious. I never stopped to think about how my near death affected him. The gravity of that day hits me hard. “I’m sorry, Killian. I had no idea.”
�
��Fuck, if Kael hadn’t insisted we go that way, then…” He lets that little newsflash hang. I never, ever knew that. I didn’t know how they stumbled across me that day. I’m stunned to learn that although Killian may have pulled me from the water, Kael was ultimately responsible for saving me. I wonder why he never mentioned it?
I’m stuck in that memory until Killian’s comment brings me back to him, “You’re always so fucking stubborn. About everything. But thank God you were. I’m convinced that’s the only reason you didn’t die that day.”
I flash a smile, his backhanded compliment making my blood heat. “Like knows like I guess.”
He fights a smile. He loses. When he slides his eyes my way, my breath catches. He’s still as beautiful in the moonlight tonight as he was the night he told me he loved me. The night he made good on his promise and we shattered together. The same night he stole all of me, some parts of which he still has.
Suddenly I feel overwhelmingly sad.
“Will you tell me why?”
That panty-melting smile drops like it’s hot. “Why what, Maverick?” He pretends he doesn’t know what I’m asking, but he does.
I decide this is it. If he doesn’t tell me this time, I’m not asking again. I’ll go to my grave never understanding why a night of whispered promises ended up the broken mess it is today.
Maybe this is why I called. Maybe this is what I need so I can saw through the last vestiges of that cord. Maybe I need this before I can fix what’s wrong with Kael and me. I decide, either way, tonight is my closure.
“Why did you cheat on me with Jillian? Why didn’t you love me enough?”
His muscles tighten. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. He drags in a huge lungful air. He turns away from me to stare into the darkness ahead. It’s the same thing he’s done every time I’ve asked. I count the seconds as they go by until I get to 120.
Do you know how agonizingly long it can take 120 seconds to pass? Torturously, endlessly slow. So slow, in fact, you feel each crack in your heart as it keeps time with the ticks of the second hand.
Well…that’s that.