Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
SIOBHAN DAVIS
www.siobhandavis.com
Note From The Author
You should only read this novel if you have already read Finding Kyler, Losing Kyler, and Keeping Kyler. If you haven’t read these books yet, this novella will spoil the story for you.
Dedication
For my lovely sister-in-law, Sinead Davis. Thanks for suggesting I write this! I’m hugely grateful for your constant support and encouragement.
Table of Contents
Note From The Author
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Bonus Content From Finding Kyler
Bonus Content From Losing Kyler
Loving Kalvin
Loving Kalvin Sample
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Saving Brad
Exclusive Advance Sample From Saving Brad
About The Author
Glossary Of Irish Words And Phrases
Books By Siobhan Davis
Copyright
Chapter One
Faye
“Well? What do you think? Will I do?” I spin around on my strappy stilettos, facing Ky as I show off the uber-short cream and gold mini-dress that hugs my body like a second skin. For the second year in a row, Ireland is experiencing an unforeseen Indian summer that is playing havoc with my thick hair, so I’ve pinned it up into a messy-on-purpose bun with longish strands curled and framing my face. My makeup is pristine, my eyes smoky and rimmed in lashings of thick black liner thanks to my friend Rachel. She’s the makeup magician, the style queen, the reason I’m currently feeling like a million dollars.
Between Rach and Alex, I’ve had no choice but to embrace my inner femininity, surprising myself in the process because I don’t detest getting dolled up like I used to. In fact, since Ky and I became a couple, I’ve been dressing up more. Not because I want to look good for him—although, naturally I do—but mainly because I feel like I’ve finally grown into my body, embraced my sexuality, and I’m confident in my own skin.
Strong, warm hands grip my waist as Ky tugs me toward him, his eyes darkening with lust. “You look hot, sexy as all hell.” He leans in to kiss me, but I wiggle out of his embrace.
“Nuh-uh.” I shake my head, sending him a stern look. “Our guests will be arriving any minute now, and I know what’ll happen if I let you kiss me.” We can scarcely keep our hands off one another, and it’s borderline worrisome. To crave someone as much as I crave him doesn’t seem normal. Or not the normal I’m used to.
“Babe.” His eyes gleam with wicked intent. “Let’s cancel the party and start our own private one. I want you all to myself.” His tongue darts out, licking his full lips, and it’s like an injection of liquid lust straight through my veins.
I curse under my breath. “Ky. You’ve had me all to yourself these last two weeks.” It’s the truth. Apart from hanging with my besties a few times, we’ve spent every single second of every minute of every day of our vacation together. And it’s truly been like a piece of heaven on Earth. We can’t get enough of one another, and I love it. But we’ve only one week until the rest of the family lands on Irish soil, and I want to make the most of it.
Starting with this party.
I’ve missed my extended group of friends, and it’ll be good to catch up with old school buddies. Besides, I promised myself before I returned home that I would make new memories in this house so that I’m not accosted with overwhelming grief and sadness every time I step over the threshold.
Ky has been helping with that. A blush creeps up my neck and across my cheeks as I remember all the ways he’s been helping me. I quietly laugh to myself.
This party will work wonders too. This house needs to be filled with laughter and music and the sounds of many voices.
Ky smirks, recognizing where my mind has gone. He takes a step toward me, and I take a step back. “I have been monopolizing you, haven’t I?” He cocks his head to the side as he continues advancing like a predator with sole focus. I back up some more until my spine meets the solid wall behind me. Pressing his body against mine, he places his hands on either side of my head and leans into my face. His warm, intoxicating breath blows over my skin, and a familiar ache starts building inside me. It’s ridiculous how much I’m attracted to him and how powerless I am to resist. “I’ve had you on the stairs, in the shower, on the kitchen counter, on the couch, against the wall outside, in your—”
“Oh my God! Enough!” I shriek, attempting to compose myself. One of us needs to stay focused. A difficult task when my legs have turned to jelly and my body is already trembling with need. “Is there a point to this?”
Quick as a flash, his hand juts out, and he swats the entire contents lining the top of my dressing table onto the floor. My jaw slackens as he grips my hips, lifting me fluidly onto the wooden tabletop. He inches the hem of my dress up, and my legs automatically open for him, like the Red Sea parting for Moses. There’s no point even attempting to fight it.
He presses a slew of drugging kisses along my jawline as he loosens the button on his jeans. “I haven’t had you here, and we have enough time.” A devilish expression is etched on his face. “Unless you’re not interested.” His hand stalls on his jeans as he straightens up, challenging me with his eyes.
As if.
I growl, fisting a hand in his shirt and pulling him toward me. “Asshole.”
He chuckles. “You can’t resist me any more than I can resist you.”
My hand replaces his as I yank his jeans and boxers down in one swift movement. “What have you done to me?” I ask, my voice coming out low and seductive. Taking him in my hand, I fondle him in firm, confident strokes, licking my lips in anticipation.
A strangled sound emits from his throat as he pushes my flimsy, lacy thong to one side, thrusting two fingers inside me. I gasp, already soaking wet for him, and my strokes become quicker. “The same thing you’ve done to me,” he confirms before crashing his mouth atop mine. His kiss consumes me, and, even though we’ve kissed, like, a million times, each time he kisses me, it feels like the first time. Tingling sensations ignite my entire body, and I arch toward him, needy and hungry. No measure of time with Ky will be long enough to satisfy the unerring craving I have for him. My body comes alive at his touch, and I hope it never stops.
I guide him toward me, stretching my legs out wider as he enters me in one fast thrust. Now that we’re exclusive, and I’m on the pill, we don’t bother with condoms anymore. We discussed it at length, making the decision together. We’re in this forever, and I can’t see any
reason not to take this next step. We trust each other, and there is no greater feeling than the love of my life buried deep inside me with nothing separating us.
I close my eyes, taking a moment to truly feel him. And it’s not just the physical connection. When we’re together like this, it’s as if our souls are entwined. And even though we’re as close as two people can get, I still crave more. I never knew it could be like this. That I could feel so much love in my heart for a boy. That I could feel so complete. He is everything to me. Everything I didn’t realize I wanted or needed until he was in my life. Embedded so deep into every facet of my existence that sometimes I almost forget where I start and he ends.
But I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I love him as deeply as he loves me, and I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he’s my forever.
I whimper into his mouth as he starts moving, my legs wrapping around his waist like an octopus. His tongue darts out, seeking entry, and I open my lips, allowing him to explore me as I explore him. The dressing table rattles and wobbles underneath me, but I’m barely conscious of the noise as Ky pounds into me, harder and faster, and I’m rapidly spinning out of control. I dig my nails into his shoulder and suck on his lower lip, dragging it between my teeth.
“I fucking love you,” he cries, thrusting deeper. “You undo me, Faye.”
“I forever you” is all I can manage to get out in between moans. Our kissing grows more frantic, and I plunder his mouth as desire ignites the fire inside me. The crescendo gaining momentum inside me is reaching epic proportions, and I’m close to the edge. The dressing table screeches as the back of it slaps against the wall, but Ky doesn’t stop, thrusting over and over until I scream, crying out his name as waves of pure bliss rock my body. He grunts and roars my name as his own release arrives, and we cling to each other, bodies heaving, heart rates elevated, panting and gasping for air. “Ho. Lee. Shit. Ky.” I lower my quivering legs to the floor and he leans in, placing a feather-soft kiss on my lips, at complete odds with the way he just devoured my body.
“It gets me every time, baby.” He drags a hand through his silky dark hair, attempting to tame it. “I only have to look at you and I get hard. I’ll never get enough, Faye. Never.”
I don’t need convincing. We’ve been going at it like rabbits since we arrived here, and my attraction to him is every bit as potent as his is to me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. No one has ever rocked my world like Ky has. Not a day goes by where I don’t thank my lucky stars for bringing him to me. I snake my arms around his neck. “I hope not because I’m never letting you go.”
He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “That’s music to my ears, babe.” I rest my head on his shoulder, and his arms envelop me in a hug. We stay like that for a couple of minutes, and a wave of contentment washes over me. Everything has always felt right with the world once Ky is by my side.
“I’ll get a towel. Stay here,” he says after a bit, kissing my forehead as he eases out of our embrace. I don’t move while he leaves my bedroom to retrieve a washcloth from the bathroom. When he returns, he cleans me up, helping me fix my underwear and my dress.
I survey the wreckage on the floor and the new skid marks on the wall where the dresser scraped against the paint with a knowing smile. We’re definitely making new memories. Not sure my parents would wholeheartedly approve, but I like to think they’d be happy I’m in a good place in my life. That I have the love and support of a good guy.
Ky is helping me put everything back on the dresser when the doorbell chimes. “Can you get that while I fix my hair and makeup?”
He frowns at me. “You look perfect.”
I roll my eyes. Men. Rachel would take one look at the state of me and know what just happened, freaking over the mess I’ve made of her hair and makeup job. I give him a gentle shove toward the door. “Go. I’ll be two minutes. Entertain the masses until then.”
When I emerge a few minutes later, I find my man in the center of the living room surrounded by a bunch of my school friends. Every girl is staring up at him with glazed eyes. I quietly snicker as I approach them, sliding my arm around his waist. “Hey, thanks so much for coming.”
Reluctantly, they drag their gaze away from the hot Kennedy boy by my side, taking turns to hug me. More and more guests arrive, and I’m separated from Ky as I rush to get everyone settled with drinks. Soon the small living room is crammed with bodies. Jill—my other bestie—sets up the sound system with her boyfriend, Sam, in the corner of the room, and the crowd hollers as kickass rhythmic beats pump out.
Rach is on door duty, and soon the whole house is packed to capacity with bodies lining the passageway, filling the living room and kitchen. Everyone wants to hear about my life in America, and I haven’t had a second to even catch my breath. Every so often, I steal a glimpse at Ky, and he seems to be enjoying himself. I don’t miss the numerous admiring glances my ex-schoolmates throw his way, but I don’t care. I’m secure in his love. They can ogle him all they want, but, at the end of the day, he’s mine and I’m his, and nothing or no one will ever come between us again.
“It’s like a sauna in here,” Rach complains, arriving in the kitchen, fanning her face with her hand.
“I know, but I’ve opened all the windows, and there isn’t anything else I can do. We are not equipped for this kind of climate.”
“We should’ve had the party at my house.” She pours a large gin and tonic into a glass, dumping some ice and basil leaves on top. “We’ve got state-of-the-art air conditioning.” There’s an edge to her tone that I can’t decipher. Rach’s parents won the lottery about ten months ago, and her life has transformed. They moved out of their small terraced three-bed house into a sprawling mansion on the outskirts of town. My eyes had been out on stalks when she invited us over for lunch the first week we were here. Sporting ten en suite bedrooms, four large reception rooms, a kitchen I’d happily trade a limb for, an indoor swimming pool, sauna, gym, cinema, and outdoor tennis courts, it gives the Kennedy house in Wellesley a run for its money.
“Probably, but I kinda wanted to have it here anyway.”
Her look softens as she takes a sip of her drink. “I understand. How have things been?”
“Good.” I try to fight my blush, but nothing gets past Rach’s sharp observational skills.
She sniggers. “Good for you. I’m glad you’re happy.”
“I am. I mean, I still miss my parents, and there are times when a memory surges to the forefront of my mind and I’m unbelievably sad and overcome with grief, but I know they’d want me to be happy, to move on with my life.”
“Have you visited the graveyard yet?”
I swallow the painful lump in my throat as I nod. “I’ve been a couple of times. Ky is coming with me tomorrow.” The previous times I visited I asked him to wait outside, but now I want him to meet my parents.
“I’m glad you have him. He’s good for you.”
“He is. I’m so happy.” I pour a glass of wine as I smile over Rach’s head at a couple of guys I know. “What about you? Any man on the scene?”
She shakes her head. “Nah. You know me.” She takes a big glug of her drink. I’ve known Rachel since I was thirteen, and she’s never had a steady boyfriend. I don’t understand it. She’s drop-dead-gorgeous, and dudes are falling all over her, but she knocks each and every one back. I can’t understand how she’d rather hook up and indulge in one-night stands rather than find someone she cares about. Not that I’m judging. If guys can do it, then so can girls, and it doesn’t mean that Rachel is a slut, because she isn’t. She’s still picky over who she hooks up with.
“Why not?” I pin her with a serious look.
“Why not what?” Jill asks, materializing in the kitchen sans Sam. She takes the chilled bottle of wine from the fridge and pours herself a large glass.
“I’m just
asking Rach why she isn’t going out with anyone.”
“Don’t bother,” Jill drawls. “You won’t get an honest answer out of that one.” She sends a pointed look at Rach, and Rach scowls at her.
“Don’t judge what you don’t know!” Rach hisses.
I don’t know what the hell has happened with these two since I left Ireland, but there’s definite friction, and it’s evident every time I’ve been in their company. It makes me sad. We were thick as thieves during our teenage years, and I thought our bond of friendship would never die. Jill first alluded to this when the girls visited me in Massachusetts last November, and I felt instantly guilty, sure my absence in their lives had somehow contributed to the situation, but since I’ve been back in Ireland, I’ve realized it’s more than that. I hate that there’s a wedge between them.
“No one is judging you, Rach,” I say softly, trying to defuse the awkward atmosphere. “I just want you to be happy.”
“Happiness is an illusion.” She drains her G&T and begins preparing another one. Jill’s brows knit together as she looks at me. “Or a luxury I cannot afford.”
I place my hand on her arm. “I wish you’d tell us.”
She shrugs, keeping her eyes fixed on the counter. “There’s nothing to tell.” Jill shakes her head sadly. I know she’s worried about her, but her patience is wearing thin. It’s obvious something is up with Rach, but she doesn’t seem predisposed to share. While I can bide my time until she’s ready to open up, Jill is increasingly frustrated at what she feels is a deception on Rach’s part. She doesn’t understand why Rach can’t just tell her what’s wrong, and it’s tearing them apart.
The Irish Getaway: A Kennedy Boys Optional Short Novel (The Kennedy Boys) Page 1