Finding Kyler (The Kennedy Boys #1)

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Finding Kyler (The Kennedy Boys #1) Page 9

by Siobhan Davis


  His fingers creep under her dress, and she gasps. “Touch me, Ky. Do it, now.” That’s less of a request and more of an order. Kyler obeys without argument, and her moaning picks up pace.

  My clothes are welded to my skin, and my breathing is labored as I continue to watch. It’s wrong on so many different levels, but it’s as if I’m under some kind of perverted spell. His hypnotic eyes have entrapped me, and I can’t find the key to release myself.

  His hand moves faster under her dress, while his eyes stay fixated on me. This whole scenario is sick, depraved, but also grossly fascinating.

  I’ve become a Peeping Tom.

  And. It’s. Turning. Me. On.

  She’s pleading with him now.

  Oh, dear God. What is wrong with me? What has Kyler turned me into? Bile travels up my throat, and a line of sweat drips down the gap in between my breasts. I ache down below.

  Kyler’s eyes haven’t left mine. Not once. And he hasn’t kissed her on the lips either. I find that a bit strange.

  “I know you want me. Tell me you want me.”

  He eyeballs me as the words leave his mouth.

  A layer of ice smothers me, extinguishing the fire.

  He isn’t speaking to her.

  Looking directly at me, he smirks knowingly.

  No, that sentiment most definitely isn’t directed at Addison.

  Those words are meant for me.

  Chapter Eleven

  The fog immediately clears in my head, and I stagger away, stumbling all over the place as if I’ve downed a hundred vodka shots. I need to get out of here, and pronto.

  Kicking off my shoes, I take off in a sprint, running back down the path, away from this insanity. My whole body is trembling and crying out in need.

  A shrill snap to my left grabs my attention. The dark-haired girl—the housekeeper and gardener’s daughter—is cowering behind a tree. What did Keaton say her name was again? I rack my fuzzy brain until it comes to me. “Lana?” I call out.

  Startled eyes meet mine before she turns on her heel and takes off. “Wait!” I run after her, bristling as my feet move off the smooth stone path and hit the rougher terrain of the forest. Ignoring the prickling, stabbing pain underfoot, I give chase. But she’s damn fast, and I lose her almost straightaway. Cursing, I turn back around and start backtracking. It’d be just my luck to get lost out here. Spying the lit path up ahead, I charge toward it with purpose, not looking where I’m going. Tripping over a fallen log, I groan as I face plant the ground. A stinging pain tears at my foot, and I release a string of obscenities. Pushing off the ground, I sit up and inspect my injured foot. There’s a shallow gash across the bridge of my foot, clustered with dirt and debris.

  “Super,” I mutter to myself as I spot the rip in one knee. Not only have I made a total ass of myself in front of my dickhead cousin, but now I’ve injured myself and ruined my favorite jeans. Way to go, Faye.

  I’m limping down the path when a bulky, dark form steps out from behind the trees directly in front of me. Shock skitters through me. With my heart crashing against my ribcage, I emit a loud scream. Jeremy places a hand over my mouth. “Relax, Ireland. You’ll wake up half the neighborhood. Either that or give yourself a coronary.” He grins.

  I slap his hand away. “Jayzus! You scared the hell out of me. Didn’t your mum ever tell you not to jump out in front of girls in the middle of the night?”

  “My mom always told me to be a gentleman. I saw you wandering off by yourself, so I came to offer my services.” He holds out a beefy arm.

  I try to quell the rampant pounding of my heart. “Thank you, but I’m grand.”

  He chuckles. “You’re too cute.” I narrow my eyes. “Although,” he adds, pressing his mouth close to my ear. “There’s nothing cute about how you look right now.” He steps back, drawing his gaze up and down my body. A prickly sensation crawls over my skin. And I’m not talking about the good kind. “That’s all sex kitten,” he murmurs, gesticulating with his hands. “We should go out.”

  I stare at him, slack-jawed, and he chuckles again.

  “On a date,” he adds, mistaking my expression for confusion. “You do have dates in Ireland, don’t you?” He says Ireland in a real nasally tone of voice which grates on my nerves.

  “I know what a date is, and thanks, but no thanks.” I move to sidestep him, but he blocks my path.

  His smile loses its sheen. “No need to be hasty. Sleep on it.” When he moves aside, I release the breath I’d been holding. “I’ll call you.” Taking my hand without permission, he presses it to his lips. “Sweet dreams, hot stuff.” He winks as he retreats, heading back in the direction of the party.

  Sleazy wanker.

  I hobble back to the house, chastising myself for my stupidity the entire time.

  When I reach my room, I tap out a quick text to Keaton in case he’s looking for me. I fill the bath and soak for ages, only getting out when the water has turned completely cold and my skin has started to resemble an eighty-year-old woman’s.

  After dressing in the silky sleep shorts and camisole-type top Courtney provided, I turn on my lamp and prop up on the bed to properly inspect the damage to my foot. The gash is clean now but still sore to the touch.

  Hushed voices trickle in through the open window, and I immediately perk up. Scooting off the bed, I crouch down and tentatively peek under the lip of the curtain. Kyler and Kalvin are out by the pool, and judging by their stance, they are arguing over something. I strain my ears to pick up their conversation.

  “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” Kalvin hisses, grabbing Kyler by the elbow.

  “Butt out. It’s nothing to do with you” is the snarky retort. Kyler shoves Kalvin’s arm away.

  “You’re seriously fucked in the head.”

  “That’s rich, coming from you. You bone any female with a pulse,” Kyler growls.

  “This isn’t about me. Man, she’s going to stomp all over your heart a second time. And you’ll be a fucking demon to live with again.”

  I’m unsure how that would be any different from now.

  “I know what I’m doing, and it’s not what it seems,” Kyler protests.

  “I understand the need for vengeance, I do, but she destroyed you last time. Don’t give her that power again.”

  “It’s not the same now,” Kyler snaps. “She means nothing to me. Less than nothing.” He batters his forearms.

  Huh, could’ve fooled me. I’m presuming they’re discussing Addison—you know, the same girl he was pleasuring in the woods not even an hour ago.

  Kalvin exhales heavily. “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into. She’s got to be playing some angle. If it turns sour, the fallout won’t impact you alone, either.”

  “She wouldn’t dream of going after any of my brothers.”

  Kalvin stiffens imperceptibly. “I’m not talking about us. I saw him watching Faye all night. Oh, he was clever about it, but I know that look. He’s set his sights on her. If you do this, you’ll only encourage him.”

  The hair on the back of my neck prickles. What the heck? Is he talking about Jeremy?

  Kyler rubs his chin, deep in thought. “Are you sure?”

  Kalvin nods.

  Kyler curses. “I won’t let that happen. Thanks for the heads-up.”

  Kalvin scrutinizes his face. “You like her, Faye, don’t you?”

  My breath hitches in my throat as I wait for his reply.

  He shrugs. “Not in the way you’re insinuating. She’s part of this family now, or at least that’s the perception we need to portray. To the outside world, she’s one of us.”

  That’s hardly a ringing endorsement. Well, don’t go doing me any favors, buddy.

  Kalvin leans against the side of a deck chair. “Uh-huh.”

  “What’s tha
t supposed to mean?” Kyler growls.

  “I’ve seen you. You’re hot for her. Admit your weakness.” A smug grin settles on his face.

  Kyler runs his hands through his hair, and my breath snakes out in noisy, cloudy puffs. “You’re an ass. She’s our cousin.”

  It’s not exactly a denial.

  “What the fuck has that got to do with anything?” Kalvin is incredulous.

  “We’re family, butthead. That’s what.”

  “There’s no law against it, and it’s not like we all grew up together. If you met in a club and you were attracted to her, you wouldn’t think twice about going for it. Why should this be any different?”

  “Not everyone would share your liberal view,” Ky says, rubbing the side of his face.

  “Hey, if you’re worried what others would think, you could always keep her as your dirty little secret. Man, that’d be superhot!”

  “Go for it then.” Kyler’s gaze gravitates to my window, and his eyes narrow slightly. I duck down, silently cursing. Please let him not have seen me spying on him for a second time tonight. The earlier incident was bad enough. My heart is thundering in my chest, growing in intensity the longer the silence outside extends.

  “What?” Kalvin asks.

  Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit! I slam my palm into my forehead as I slump to the ground.

  “Nothing,” Kyler mumbles before adding, “Are you interested in her?”

  “I’m not.”

  “So that wasn’t you playing footsie with her under the table the other day?”

  “Ha!” Kalvin straightens up. “I knew it! You’re jealous!”

  “Don’t be stupid. Of course, I’m not. I told you, I’m not interested in Faye or any girl for that matter. Girls fuck with your head. I’m done with relationships and all that shit.”

  “Sure. That’s why you’re sharing all those hot and heavy looks with her. Because you’re not interested.” Kalvin’s mocking attitude is obvious in the extreme.

  So, it wasn’t my imagination, or one-sided, from the sounds of it. That shouldn’t cause my heart to spike into coronary-inducing territory, but it does. A quiver of excitement races through me, and I shudder.

  “Shut the fuck up.” Annoyance slips into Kyler’s tone.

  I hear a loud slap. “She’s hot, smart, snarky, and funny. She’s perfect for you. You should totally tap that.”

  “Cut it out, Kal,” Kyler growls. “You’re making something out of nothing, and you heard what Dad said. Faye’s off limits, so don’t go getting any ideas.”

  James has warned them to stay away from me? Was that really necessary?

  “All the more reason to go there,” he retorts.

  I roll my eyes as I stretch up slowly and peek at them again. They both have their backs to my window now.

  Kyler grabs Kalvin into a headlock, mussing up his hair. “So, that’s why you’re doing it? Dad should’ve known better than to bait you.”

  “Asshat!” Kalvin extracts himself and hammers his fist into Kyler’s arm. Laughing and pushing one another, they wander out of sight.

  I’m padding quietly to the kitchen, lost in thought, pondering all I’ve heard. Kyler didn’t confirm or deny Kalvin’s statement, and I hate the well of hope that springs up inside me. This thing with Kyler is ridiculous, and he’s right about the cousin aspect. I’ve plenty of other stuff to sort through, so guys should be the last thing on my mind.

  The problem is, I’ve struggled to evict Kyler from my head since that first meeting.

  It is like he hypnotized me the minute we met.

  Or maybe it’s the American air turning my brain doolally.

  I’m in the dark, foraging in the kitchen presses when that same intense sensation washes over me.

  “You’d make a lousy spy.”

  I slap a hand over my chest as I shriek for the second time tonight.

  Kyler lounges against the counter with a customary blank expression on his face.

  “You scared the crap out of me.”

  “What are you doing sneaking around in the dark?”

  “I’m looking for a first aid kit. I need a plaster.”

  His brow furrows. “A what?”

  “A plaster.” I shoot him an “Are ya dumb look.”

  He still looks confused.

  “For my foot. I hurt it on the way home.” I point at the aforementioned injury.

  The corners of his mouth kick up. “You mean a Band-Aid?”

  “Whatever. We call them plasters,” I mumble as he stalks toward me. My pulse, predictably, kicks into high alert. He stretches over me, and his body presses in closer with the movement. I close my eyes as I breathe in the musky, woodsy scent of him. Heat rolls off his sculpted body in hypnotic waves. I press my hands behind my back to quell the urge to touch him.

  “Hop up.”

  I blink my eyes open, staring up at him. “Wh … what?”

  His hands land briefly on my hips, scorching my skin through my thin pajamas. Quick as a flash, he lifts me up, placing my arse on the counter. “May I?”

  Mad, jumbled thoughts rush through my head, and a splash of color paints my cheeks.

  His brows nudge up, and he looks like he’s fighting a smile. “Let me see your foot,” he clarifies, and I relax a smidge. I stretch my leg out, and he dips his head. I flinch when his warm fingers gently prod the damaged area on my foot. Ripping a Band-Aid open with his teeth, he carefully seals it over one side of the wound. He adds two more and presses down softly to ensure they have adhered to my skin. A flurry of tingles zips up and down my legs, sending a deluge of heat flooding between my legs. I discreetly press my thighs together.

  Kyler traces the curve of my foot with the pad of his thumb, creating delicious tremors all over. An electric current charges the space between us as his hand clasps around my ankle, and he starts moving firmly up my leg. His skin is callused but not unpleasant to the touch. My breath hitches, and I can scarcely hear over the blood thrumming in my ears. My chest heaves up and down, and my nipples jut out through the flimsy camisole. His fingers sweep over my skin, and I bite down hard on my lip to cage my whimpering sigh of approval. Reaching the hem of my shorts, he stops, his fingers hovering so close to where I’d like them.

  Gradually, he lifts his head, looking at me through glazed, hooded eyes. His gaze tracks languidly over my body, and he notices my obvious arousal. I gulp, and blood rushes to the surface of my skin, heating me all over.

  A flare of desire sparks in his eyes, and he pushes my thighs apart. Stepping between my legs, he presses the length of his body against mine. I’m rooted to the spot, unable to move or even breathe as every inch of his hard, solid body brushes against mine. His breath is labored as he lowers his head toward mine. His eyes land on my lips with undisguised hunger.

  I’m parched, and he’s the only drink I need. I lick my dry lips, and his eyes follow the movement with possessive intensity. My heart is barely contained in my chest, and I’m half-expecting it to take flight any second now.

  Angling his head farther, he tilts downward, moving steadily in the direction of my mouth. My heart starts galloping in my chest.

  At the last second, he changes course, putting his lips against my ear. “You were turned on earlier watching me and Addison.”

  It’s not a question. More a statement of fact. One I’m not going to acknowledge in any shape or form.

  “You’re turned on now,” he adds in a sultry voice. A tiny whimper escapes my mouth as his warm breath turns me into a pile of liquefied goo.

  So are you. I think it but I can’t say it. I’m incapable of forming words right now.

  He skims a hand across my cheek, leaving a fiery trail in his path. I squirm on the counter, more aroused than I’ve ever been in my life, and he’s barely even touching me.

  Kyl
er has seduction down to an art form, if this is any indication.

  He aims for my mouth again, and I stop breathing for a second. His eyes are blazing with need as he pins me in place. He runs the tip of his finger across my lips and I part for him. As his mouth lines up with mine, there’s only a minuscule gap between us. He peers deep into my eyes, and his lust-fueled glazed look no doubt mirrors my own.

  Anticipation has my body locked up tight.

  Suddenly, his lips curl into a sneer and he snickers.

  The moment is gone. The heat in my veins extinguishes.

  He steps back, creating space between us.

  Disappointment wars with rage and humiliation inside me.

  “You and me,” he says, gesturing between us. “I know you want it. You’re practically begging for it, but hell will freeze over before I touch you like that.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The urge to flee is riding me hard. Humiliation scalds my skin, but I’m not letting him see he’s gotten to me. “Actually, we’re on the same page.” I slither down the counter away from him. “Because I don’t touch wankers with shit for brains.” I push off the counter, plastering the most venomous look on my face as I give him a derisory once-over. “I wouldn’t lower myself.”

  “We both know that’s bullshit, but you continue lying to yourself, baby. Whatever makes you feel better.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Wouldn’t you love to?” He casts a final derogatory look over his shoulder as he saunters out of the room.

  Tears prick my eyes but I blink them away. I will not be reduced to tears by that fuckwit. The other day, I thought I saw a more tender side to him, but I was clearly mistaken. He is the sum of how he appears, and that’s not a compliment. My tears quickly transform, and I’m seething now. Beyond angry. Who does he think he is to treat me like this? Pumped full of self-righteous indignation, I storm after him, prepared to give him a piece of my mind.

  Charging into the lobby, I slam face-first into someone and stumble back, crashing to the ground for the second time tonight. Jeez, can this day please be over with?

 

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