All the Pretty Poses

by M. Leighton

  I’m filled with a mixture of rage and disgust for what Kennedy’s father had done to her. It churns in my gut and burns through my veins. But I also feel an overwhelming sense of guilt. Kennedy needed a decent person in her life, not another shitty man who would ultimately hurt her in another way.

  She looks down at my shirt, fiddling with one of the buttons as she laughs, a hollow, heartbreaking sound. “Yeah, I used to think that you could save me from him. From life. From sadness and pain. But then I realized that no one could. That no one would. There was no Superman waiting to rescue me. I realized that if I was going to survive, I’d have to rescue myself. I couldn’t wait around for anyone else to do it.”

  I release Kennedy and roll off the bed to my feet. I drag my fingers through my hair, feeling like I might burst into furious flames at any moment.

  I pace the floor, at loose ends, not knowing what to do with my fists or my anger, not knowing how to deal with this new information. I’m so caught up in my own head, so deafened by the sound of my rapid pulse in my ears that I barely hear her quiet words when she speaks.

  “I know. It’s disgusting. I couldn’t even go to his funeral, I felt so dirty.”

  “Disgusting? It’s…it’s…” Words escape me. Then a thought occurs to me and I whirl to face her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Kennedy is sitting up in bed, her hair wild around her head, her eyes wide and tortured. “I didn’t want you to feel differently about me. I was afraid of what you’d think.”

  Her words are like a battle axe to the chest. “What kind of a monster did you think I was?”

  Her smile is small, but it is belied by the shimmer of tears in her big green eyes. “I didn’t think you were a monster. I loved you. I didn’t want you to know. It was as simple as that.”

  “But Kennedy, you’d been abused! If I’d known, I would’ve taken better care. I would’ve been gentler. I would’ve…”

  “You were gentle. You did take care. There was nothing I would’ve wanted you to do differently. You were wonderful. It was everything I wanted it to be until...”

  In my head, I finish her thought. “Right up until I disappeared.”

  I see the hurt before she drops her eyes to watch her hands where they’re toying with the hem of her shirt. She doesn’t have to confirm it. I know I’m right. And I honestly don’t think I’d feel more like a monster if I’d killed somebody. I might as well have killed Kennedy. By leaving her, I sentenced her to a childhood where she was at the mercy of another kind of monster. And, without me, she had nowhere to run, no one to help her. She trusted me when she couldn’t trust anyone else, gave me the only thing she had to give, and I shit all over it.

  My throat feels tight as I try to explain, knowing that nothing I say will ever change what happened, ever make a bit of difference. But I’m desperate to make her see… “My father came to get me that night. He’d pulled some strings and gotten me into Oxford for the fall semester. Said I was the oldest, the one who had to carry on the family name, the one who had to provide security for my brothers. He said it was my last chance to make my mother proud. He knew that if nothing else he’d said would make me go, that would. He knew she hated me. Maybe he even knew why. But I know he knew I’d do anything to finally get just one little bit of love from her. Just the tiniest bit of approval.” I turn to face Kennedy, sitting like a damaged angel in a bed of pain. “Not that any of that matters now. It doesn’t change the fact that I was weak. I never wanted to grow up to be like my father and he knew it. But that manipulative bastard outsmarted me and I grew up just like him anyway.”

  “You’re not like your father, Reese.”

  “How can you say that?” I ask in angry disbelief. “After the way I treated you, how can you say that? Look what I’ve become.”

  “You always treated me well, Reese. Like just a girl. A girl worth spending time with. But if you feel that way, if you’re unhappy with what you’ve become then change it. You’re the only one who can.”

  I feel fingers of hopelessness wrapping my soul in their icy grip. “I am what I am, Kennedy. Like it or not, this is it. This is who I turned out to be.”

  “Then be happy with that. Regret will eat you alive if you let it. The only choice we have is to do the best we can and move on.”

  “Is that what you did? You moved on? Learned to hate me?”

  The thought of her hating me is appalling, but I know it’s a very real possibility, just like I know that I can’t change the past.

  “I don’t hate you, Reese.”

  “You should.”

  “No, I shouldn’t. You’re right. We were both just stupid kids. I expected you to be my hero, but that wasn’t fair. I shouldn’t have put that on you. I needed to learn to be my own hero, because in the end, people can only hurt you if you let them.”

  “So now you keep everyone at arm’s length so they can’t get close enough to hurt you.”

  “Don’t judge, Reese. You do the same thing.”

  I don’t answer her. Maybe she has a point.

  The need to heal her, to make up for all the pain I caused her, to give her happiness in place of all the heartache wells in my chest like a hot spring. Maybe it’s man’s instinct to protect the weaker sex. Maybe it’s the residue of the love I had for a girl a long time ago. Maybe it’s something more. Who the hell knows? But it’s there.

  I have a few weeks to show her some goodness in life before we part ways, a few weeks to put to bed old flames. To exorcise old demons.

  I walk to the side of the bed nearest her, stopping to stare down into the face that’s even more beautiful than I remember. More beautiful than it was yesterday.

  “Let me make it up to you.”

  She starts shaking her head immediately. “No, Reese. That’s not what I wanted. That’s not why I told you.”

  “I don’t care. I want to. All you have to do is let me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX- Kennedy

  A small part of my brain is wondering if this whole scenario is even real. I just spilled my guts to the guy who broke my heart and shattered my world all those years ago. And he just gave me a little peek into his. And now he’s offering…what? I don’t really know.

  More importantly, I can’t believe I’m considering it. But the truth is, I never stopped loving Reese. Like scars and bad memories, some things never go away.

  “Even if I wanted to, I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can,” Reese insists, dropping down onto the bed beside me. “You can be with me. You can let me be with you. You can let me give you the happiness that you deserve.”

  My heart thrills at what he’s suggesting, even though I know he doesn’t have forever in mind. I’m not sure I’d trust him to give it to me at this point anyway. But he’s offering me right now.

  Only…

  “Reese, I work for you. Can’t you understand that it feels…dirty? Like I’m a…a…prostitute? Like you’re paying me to…”

  That heart-stopping smile that has haunted me for years spreads across his mouth, bearing the edges of his straight, white teeth. It’s lopsided and sexy and it turns my stomach to mush.

  “Oh, I won’t be paying you for that. You’ll be off the clock for anything more…intimate.” As if he senses my hesitation, he adds, “If you decide that’s what you want, that is.”

  He’s already giving in a little. A day ago, he wouldn’t have left it at if. He would’ve said when.

  “But Reese—”

  “But nothing,” he interrupts urgently. “Please, Kennedy. Do this with me. Don’t make me beg.” His eyes search mine until a teasing light enters them again. “Unless that’s what you’re into.”

  I can’t help but smile. “God! Reese!” I exclaim, slapping his arm. He flinches like I hit him with a taser.

  “Okay, so you’re into the rough stuff. I can do that, too.”

  I laugh outright this time, rolling my eyes at his melodrama.

  “I don’t know. I just…�
�

  Reese takes my hand and brings it to his mouth, rubbing his lips across my knuckles as he watches me over the top of them. “Then let me show you. Just give me a chance. I can give you some of the best weeks of your life. Trust me.”

  It’s my turn to flinch as he touches my one raw nerve. “I don’t trust anybody.”

  “But you can trust me. I’m not the boy I once was, Kennedy. I’ll give you nothing but the truth. Nothing.”

  I bite my lip nervously, one reservation still preventing me from diving headlong into everything that Reese is offering.

  He must sense my reluctance. “What?” he asks. “What is it?”

  “I don’t want to be another of your cruise flings, Reese.”

  “You’re not. You could never be.”

  I raise my eyes to meet his. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Then do it anyway and let me prove it to you. You’re nothing like them and nothing I’ve said or done should tell you otherwise.”

  “But Reese—”

  “Look, you sleep on it. Just give me tomorrow. And by the end of the day, you won’t even want to say ‘no’.”

  I’m tired of arguing, tired of trying to fight it. Tired of trying to fight this, fight him. “Okay,” I agree, relief loosening every taut muscle in my body. I don’t think I was fully aware of how very hard it has been to feign indifference to Reese, to pretend that I want nothing to do with him.

  His smile is brilliant and I have the sudden urge to reach over and drag him down on top of me.

  Reese gives me some sort of pleased man-growl kind of thing as he leans in toward me. Slowly. Closer and closer. I don’t move away. I just watch his luminous eyes draw near, letting myself get lost in them. For just a moment.

  “God, I can’t wait for morning,” he says, his lips so close to mine, I can feel his warm breath fanning them. But Reese doesn’t kiss me. As much as I want him to, he brushes his mouth over my cheek then nuzzles it before pulling away. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a beautiful day.”

  I nod as Reese rises and walks toward the door. When he’s half out in the hallway, he stops and looks back at me. He smiles again and winks before he disappears, closing the door behind him.

  ********

  I’m awakened by the tickle of lips and the light scratch of short scruff as someone kisses the curve of my neck. The warmth that floods my body has nothing to do with the heat radiating from the hard, masculine form at my back.

  I open my bleary eyes to glance at the bedside clock. Not even 6:00 AM yet. “Don’t you sleep?”

  “Not when this is waiting for me in the next room. Do you feel like working out?”

  I take a moment to do a quick self-assessment. No nausea, no lightheadedness, and the boat seems to be more stable this morning. “Yeah, I think I do.”

  “Good,” Reese says, biting my earlobe and then smacking my butt through the covers before he scoots off the bed. “I brought you some tantalizing clothes to wear. I’ll give you a minute to change and then we’ll go.”

  “Wait, I’ll need some things from my room,” I tell him, leaning up onto my elbow.

  “I brought your toiletries. Anything else?” Reese looks awfully proud of himself.

  “I…uh…I guess not.”

  “Five minutes,” he says, opening the door. Before he exits, he glances back at me, his lagoon-colored eyes twinkling. “Unless you need some help getting dressed. In that case—”

  “No, I don’t,” I tell him, trying not to smile. “I’ll be out in five minutes.”

  I can hear his dejected sigh all the way across the room before he shuts the door, muttering, “I don’t know why you’d turn down a perfectly good offer of help.”

  I shake my head as I crawl from the warmth of the plush duvet and head for the en-suite bathroom. My guts are a jittery mess knowing that Reese is waiting for me and that today he’s going to be turning up the charm (and likely the heat) big time.

  For one heartbeat, the bitter skeptic in me starts to speak up, but I smother her with my happiness until I don’t hear her at all anymore. Five minutes later, I’m opening the stateroom door to find Reese leaning up against the wall, arms and ankles crossed, waiting for me.

  His eyes rake me from head to toe, taking in the skintight leggings and snug cap-sleeved tee that he brought me. I stop and let him look his fill. Then, since I’m feeling happy and plucky, I decide to give him the same treatment.

  I start at Reese’s white sneakers, working my way up the loose black running pants that hang just right on his slim hips to the flat stomach that’s so perfectly defined beneath his dark purple fitted tank top. His well-developed pecs are clearly discernible beneath the fabric, his wide shoulders and muscular arms left open to my roving gaze.

  When I skim his tanned throat and reach his face, his expression has turned from playful to fiery. His eyes are dark and his jaw is clenched. “I should warn you,” he says softly, pushing away from the wall and walking to within an inch of me. He stops, looming over me until I have to crane my neck to maintain eye contact. “If you do that again, I’ll haul your perfect little ass back into that room and give you the spanking you deserve for teasing me like that. Got it?”

  A thrill races along my nerve endings, bringing my skin to tingling life at his nearness. “Got it.”

  “Wanna try it again and see if I’m telling the truth?”

  He leans in ever so slightly, his chest brushing mine, my nipples hardening in response. He’s teasing me and, for some reason, it’s making me feel light and playful rather than defensive. Light and playful and daring. I arch my back the tiniest bit, rubbing my breasts against him in an almost imperceptible way. In exotic dancing, I learned all sorts of subtle ways to move my body to titillate and entice. I’ve just never used them on a man up close before.

  “Holy shit, woman. You didn’t tell me you liked to play with fire,” he growls.

  “What would be the fun in warning you?” I ask with a grin.

  “I’m gonna count to three. One…two…”

  Before he can get to three, I slide out from between him and the wall and, with a tiny squeal, move quickly down the hall. When I glance back over my shoulder, his eyes are glued to my butt. Giving it an extra little swing, I turn my head and smile.

  Reese might be right. This might be the best few weeks of my life.

  Until it’s over.

  ********

  When we reach the gym, it’s empty. “I guess we beat Brian this morning,” I say as Reese opens the door for me.

  “Nope. He won’t be working you out anymore,” he admits, making his way to the stereo to turn on the music.

  “What? Why?”

  He doesn’t answer until he’s finished and back standing right in front of me. “Because. I told him I’d do it.”

  “Do you even know what you’re doing?” I ask, feeling the twitter of butterflies in my belly.

  “I’ve watched every single thing he’s done to you until I can’t watch it one more time. I don’t want to see any hands on you unless they’re mine.”

  “Brian’s hardly—” I stop myself before I accidentally spill Brian’s secret.

  “I don’t care if he’s gay or straight. I don’t like it.”

  I have to hide my pleased smile. “Then you’d better make this worth my while,” I taunt.

  Reese says nothing, merely raises one dark brow as he takes my hand and leads me to the mats on the floor. “Let’s start with stretching.”

  As I lie down on the floor at Reese’s feet, the heavy, sensual thump of Closer by Nine Inch Nails drifts into the room, bouncing off the walls and enveloping me in the tension that buzzes between us. His eyes are locked on mine as he spreads his legs in front of me and takes my foot in his hand. Still watching me, he runs his palm up my calf to the back of my knee, bending it as he leans down and in toward me, pressing my thigh slowly toward my chest. He eases up and then leans in again, pushing a little harder and extending my st
retch in a long, languorous pulse.

  The words to the song are resonating in my head and Reese’s touch is resonating through my body as he reaches down to spread his hands over my hips, stabilizing them as he tucks his shoulder under my knee and presses harder. I feel the sting of the stretch in my butt, but I feel the throb of something else more toward my center. The throb of something deeper. Something hotter.

  “Can you feel that?” he asks, his voice a low rumble.

  I’m practically panting already. “Yes. I can feel that perfectly.”

  “Mmmm, good. Let’s do the other side.” Reese releases my left leg and shifts to give the right the same treatment. When he eases in and gives me that first deep pulse, he grunts and warmth gushes through me.

  As he nears the end of my right leg stretch, I feel my heart start to race. If he follows Brian’s routine, I know what’s coming next. Sure enough, Reese doesn’t release my leg; he straightens it, running his palm down the inside of my thigh as he scoots into the center of my body to stretch my groin.

  Automatically, I lift my other leg and Reese presses a hand to the low inside of it as well, pushing outward, causing my legs to fall out into a split. He leans in, using a small portion of his body weight to exert pressure. Reese runs his hands up the insides of my legs to my ankles to hold them out straight as he eases forward against me to keep my stretch.

  Oh, god!

  I curl my fingers into tight fists where they rest at my sides. I want to beg him to kiss me and touch me, but I won’t. I squeeze my eyes shut, not because it hurts, but because I can feel his belly rubbing between my legs.

  “Look at me,” Reese commands gruffly.

  I do as he asks. The expression on his face is a mirror, reflecting everything that I’m feeling on the inside.

  “Reese…”

  He leans in even closer, his body grazing the flattened V of my spread legs. I can barely hear him when he whispers, “Are your panties wet?”

  “No,” I say automatically.