Shifting positions, his foot hit a lump in the covers. He rolled onto his back. What the hell was wrong with his bedding? He ran his foot over the spot. Before he had a chance to inspect it further, McKenna rolled over and threw her leg over his waist. She used his chest as a pillow. The lump underneath the comforter was driving him insane. A low moan slipped from McKenna’s lips. Fuck it. He didn’t need to fix the covers. There was a hot woman in his arms. Not to mention, as hard as his dick was, there was no way in hell he would be able to sleep anyhow.
* * * * *
The bed shifted near his head. Kurt came awake with a start. Blinking in surprise, he stared up at the woman standing on the bed. She was straddling his head. With one foot firmly planted on either side of him, McKenna scribbled on the sticky notes on the wall. Between her leaning forward and his angle from below, he could see straight up her shirt. She was wearing a black lace bra. There was also a smallish tattoo on her ribs. He couldn’t make out what it was. Still, the view was good. Incredible didn’t begin to describe McKenna’s body. With soft curves and breasts that would overflow in his hands, she was delicious. Kurt would’ve given anything to see inside her mind. He imagined thousands of flashes of brilliance firing all at once. Every single one of them led to the same place—sexual pleasure. Unable to stand another moment without touching her, he snagged her legs. In a move normally reserved for the cage, he flipped her off her feet and rolled her beneath him in one fluid motion. A high-pitched giggle rent the air.
Holding both her wrists high above her head with one hand, he pinned her lower body to the mattress by straddling her hips. Her blue eyes lit up. A flush covered her skin. His apartment had never seen happiness before. He wondered if it would catch fire even as he used his free hand to shove the hem of her shirt upward. McKenna’s laughter died on a squeak. Determination drove him. He needed to know or he wouldn’t be able to sleep again.
“What the—”
“It’s a never-ending circle,” he said cutting off her question as he exposed the tattoo. Tilting his head to the side, he read the words out loud. “While I was dreaming I lost.” He studied it a moment longer. Written in a perfect circle, only the person who wore a never-ending saying knew exactly which way it was meant to be read. “Or is it, I lost while I was dreaming?”
The happiness had left her eyes. “Does it matter?”
No. He didn’t suppose it did. Either way, it meant the same thing. “What did you lose?”
She didn’t answer. “I’ll let you know what mine means if you tell me.”
“Really?” In one word, McKenna sang the entire “liar, liar, pants on fire” song. Carefully, so he wouldn’t squash her, Kurt sat back on his heels and pulled his shirt over his head. Her gaze locked on his chest. Ah, there was the lust she’d not shown before now. He watched as she absorbed the sight of his body. While he waited for her to notice what he intended her to see, he pondered over a possible permanent limp. She kept him hard. Sucking in a breath, he called on every ounce of self-control when McKenna traced the ridges in his abdomen. He knew the exact moment she finally spotted his endless circle tattoo. Her fingers froze. With the massive amount of markings on his torso, he’d known it would take her a minute to work it out.
“Trapped in a prison without bars,” she read aloud. She met his gaze. “I’d love to be imprisoned inside your head. It’s full of music, foreign languages, and blinding intellect. From here, it looks beautiful.”
She left him speechless. There wasn’t another person in the world like her. He was sure of it. A thousand confessions raced to the tip of his tongue. He wanted to tell her all about how his mind wasn’t the least bit attractive. It was obsessive. His psyche didn’t hold him prisoner. He purposely barred himself away while locking others out. Otherwise, he was too much of everything for anyone to handle. None of those details passed his lips. Instead, he asked again, “What did you lose?”
“Everything.” Taking advantage of his shocked haze, she wiggled out of his hold. “I’m starving. Can you take me back to the bookstore?”
Her words snapped him out his thoughts. His gaze shot to the clock. Four p.m. He’d slept the whole day. When was the last time he’d slept more than three hours at one time? Kurt couldn’t remember. It had been years. McKenna was standing by the door waiting.
“Give me a minute.” After a quick trip to the bathroom, he yanked his shirt back on and grabbed a jacket. “What time does the bookstore close?”
McKenna followed him outside. “Six. Why?”
“Since I’m taking you to dinner, I need to know how much time I have.”
An adorable frown touched her face as he opened the car door for her. “What does dinner have to do with the bookstore?”
“You left your laptop there,” he reminded her.
“No. I didn’t.”
He was sure she had. He’d watched her do so but he didn’t argue until he slid behind the wheel. It was too cold to stand outside debating the matter.
“Seriously?” he asked the moment his ass hit the seat. “I was standing right there when you handed it to the girl working behind the counter.”
Her expression cleared. “You’ll think this is crazy.”
“I doubt it.” He saw his death in her eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest, staring straight ahead. It took him a minute to realize she didn’t intend to say more. “It was a joke, McKenna. I know you’re not crazy.”
“I don’t expect you to lie to me to be my friend,” she muttered, sounding the same as a petulant child. “I’d planned to say, I forgot you didn’t know I own G. Richards’ and I live in an apartment above the store. Christy, the girl who was working this morning, is the manager. She took my laptop upstairs for me.”
Her explanation cleared up a thousand questions rattling around in his brain, except one. “Why would that cause me to question your sanity?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shrug. “It’s as if I’ve known you forever. I forgot for a moment you don’t know everything there is to know about me.”
Okay. Now he felt like shit. She’d been intent on saying something nice and he’d ruined it. He’d find a way to make it up to her. “I assumed a place named G. Richards’ would be owned by a guy named G. Richards.”
“It was. He died. Now it’s mine.”
Her voice sounded tight. Since changing the subject hadn’t helped, he chose to hold his silence and hope he survived the remainder of the evening.
* * * * *
Dinner went well. Kurt honestly believed he was making headway with McKenna until he tried to walk her to her door. She was having none of it. She gave him her cell phone number as if hoping it would be enough to make him go away. He wasn’t backing down.
“I only want to see you safely inside.” When she silently held his gaze, unmoving, he added. “Scout’s honor.”
She snorted but opened her door. “As if you were ever a boy scout.”
“I was, actually,” he muttered to himself as he climbed from the car. She didn’t wait for him. Taking the stairs two at a time, he caught up with her halfway to the top of the metal staircase.
Glancing over her shoulder at him, she flashed a grin. “I really do have a Taser in my purse.”
“Duly noted,” he said, unable to mask his dry tone and causing McKenna to chuckle.
“It wasn’t a threat. I was pointing out it wasn’t necessary for you to try to keep me safe. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.”
“Humor me, okay? I’m doing this for my peace of mind, not yours.”
When she began digging through her handbag, he wondered if she’d changed her mind about zapping him. Thankfully, she pulled out a set of keys instead. When she pushed open the door, the color yellow assaulted Kurt’s senses. Ninety-five percent of the walls, as far as he could see, were plastered in sticky notes. It was almost blinding. Even though he didn’t doubt there was a system to her madness, he couldn’t see it. The musical sound of McKe
nna’s laughter gave him the strength needed to tear his gaze away from the sight. Her eyes danced with humor.
“If you could see how horrified you look right now.” She shook her head.
He tried rearranging his features. “I’m sorry.” He snapped his teeth together, cutting off any further apology when she laughed harder.
“It’s fine. Let your OCD flag fly. I’m not offended nor do I have any intention of changing. It’s best you soak it all in now if you plan on becoming a regular visitor.”
Choosing to take the statement as an invitation, he jumped on it. “I’m definitely coming back and I’m not horrified. It’s not necessary for me to organize everyone’s life, only mine.”
“Hmm,” she said, showing her obvious disbelief. “Oh good,” she added, distracted by something across the room. “Christy didn’t forget my laptop.”
Following the line of her gaze, he spotted the device sitting on a glass-top table. Two envelopes, carefully set on their side, leaned against it. A single rose with a tiny pink card tied to it sat on top of the computer. Picking up the letters first, McKenna eyed them for a moment before tossing them in a nearby wastebasket.
A flash of humor ran through him. “Do you always throw away your mail unopened? That’s how people get their identity stolen.”
She shrugged. “I have a filing system.”
He shook his head. “You’ll end up on the news one of these days.”
“As long as they don’t use my driver’s license photo,” she said, sounding as if she was only half listening as she tugged the note loose from the flower. She read it aloud. “You remind me of a rose, soft and beautiful. Yet, you’re strong and vibrant. Truly, you stand out above the rest.” She paused, seeming to muse over the words before sighing. “Well. They’re totally wrong but sweet nonetheless.”
Kurt shook his head again, unable to do anything else. He wanted to argue, if only to give him a reason to stay. He’d given his word.
“I saw you safely inside, as promised. Thank you for spending the day with me.”
*
He seemed so nervous McKenna half expected Kurt would start wiping sweaty palms on his jeans at any moment. It went against his character.
“I enjoyed myself.”
His uncertain expression disappeared at her admission. “I did too. Maybe next time you’re tied to my bed it will be under different circumstances.”
There was the Kurt she’d come to expect. “Most likely not, I’m better unbound.” Somehow, she managed to maintain her bland tone. Inside, she couldn’t believe she’d said such a thing aloud. The wicked glint in his eyes was worth every ounce of mortification. McKenna barely restrained herself from pressing a hand to her stomach to quell the growing desire. He made her want…everything.
His gaze swept over her body. Her nipples hardened. A shiver of yearning went through her. She deserved an award for keeping up an act of disinterest all day. The phantom pressure of his lips and his taste still lingered on her mouth.
“Damn. I’m regretting the whole scout’s honor thing,” he said more to himself. He returned to holding her stare. “Good night, McKenna.”
The way he said her name caused her heart to race. She imagined he sounded the same on the edge of orgasm. He turned to leave.
“Good night, Kurt.”
Lust burned in his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder and his lips curled into a mocking grin. He didn’t say a word. There wasn’t a need. The breathless note in her voice had given her away. He wouldn’t stay. She almost hated herself in that moment as she watched him walk away. Making a show of it, he turned the lock on the doorknob before pulling it closed behind him. Even though she knew he wasn’t coming back, her feet refused to budge. She was on fire. Electricity still filled the air even with him gone. Her body knew what a man such as Kurt could do for it. It ached for him. Her phone dinged. Tearing her gaze away from the wooden surface Kurt had set between them, McKenna searched for her phone. When she found it, she sucked a breath in at the waiting text.
I told you I’d walk you inside and nothing more. However, I have to go on record as saying it almost killed me. Without that promise to protect you, I would’ve enjoyed every second of peeling off your clothes. The sound you made in the back of your throat when I said good night made my dick harden instantly. I want to hear it again while I’m buried inside you. Sleep on it.
Her mind raced. She’d made a noise? She didn’t recall but also didn’t doubt it. Sleep on it? As if she could rest with him crowding her brain. Her fingers hovered over the phone, debating. In the end, she decided simple was best.
Good night.
Tossing the phone aside, she headed for the shower. She’d forgotten to turn off her bedroom light again. It lit her path enough that she didn’t bother switching on the one inside the bathroom. This man could get under her skin. The memory of the way the muscles flexed in his back when he’d climbed off the bed earlier flashed across her mind. This time, she did press her hand against her stomach. Her gaze turned inward even as she twisted the handles to create the perfect water temperature. The scrape of his tongue stud brought her hand from her stomach to her lips. Her panties dampened even further. Peeling off her clothes, she hissed as her bra scraped along her tender nipples. As she stepped beneath the stream of water, the warm contact caused her to bite back a moan. Cupping her breasts, she squeezed, hoping to relieve some of the pressure. It was inevitable. Succumbing to desire, her hand slid lower. At the first brush of her wet folds, she tilted her head back, holding her breath. She moved slow, teasing herself. Smearing her juices over her clit, her hips moved in time with each stroke. Clenching her ass, she rotated between pumping her finger inside her channel and circling the sensitized nub. His face was there, in the forefront of her mind as the pressure built. His name fell from her lips as the tingle exploded into pulsations. She locked her knees and clenched her back teeth against the waves rolling through her. Inexplicably, the hot press of tears spilled over her lashes. Kurt was the first man she’d wanted since Gray’s death. She hated herself a little for it.
Chapter Three
Too few people appreciate the loveliness of a lily. It brings a burst of color in the spring when everything else around it still holds the dreariness of wintertime. You are the lily, a bright light in an otherwise bleak world.
“Awww,” McKenna drawled after reading the note twice. She liked this one better than the rose. She touched the lily to her nose. To her, all flowers smelled the same with the exception of honeysuckle, which was why it was the only one she’d ever described in her stories. Kurt wasn’t the type of man who would send her something sweet. From him, she would get a titillating surprise. He’d send a feather, she decided, along with the promise of stimulation and destruction.
“Ah, I see you got my gift.”
At the sound of Kurt’s voice, McKenna hid a grin. A shiver of anticipation ran through her. The memory of his taste filled her mind. “It’s not from you,” she stated without looking up from her notes. “You would never send such a cliché gift.”
He chuckled. The sound caused her nipples to harden. The legs of the chair screeched across the tile as he sat down opposite her. She really wanted to look.
“I might.”
She gave in to temptation. A black stocking cap covered his head and a pair of sunglasses rested on top of it. Thankfully, his muscular arms and chest were hidden from view by his wool coat. A naughty half-smile lingered on his lips. His green eyes twinkled, causing her to dampen her panties. There was a bruise across his cheekbone. She wanted to know but she wouldn’t ask. “You don’t seem concerned it might have come from someone I’m in a relationship with.”
His gaze never left hers. “Concern implies it would matter. It does not, in fact, trouble me in the least.”
The words hurt more than expected. Even though she never intended to act upon any desires, she enjoyed pretending he wanted her. Reality rarely lived up to fantasy. She shouldn’t have
looked at him. Glancing back down, she focused on the world she’d created for herself. Luke’s character had begun to resemble Kurt somewhere along the way. The imitation of Kurt was the safer choice. She wanted to throw her notebook in the trash.
“Why?”
McKenna groaned as she met his stare once more. “Damn. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
“I read book two last night.”
That was it. He didn’t say anything more and she’d be damned if she asked his opinion.
“And?” Fuck. Was that her voice she heard? Apparently her willpower and brain weren’t on the same page today.
“I got hit in the face.”
His illogical statements fascinated her in spite of her best efforts. As much as she wanted to tell him to go away, she couldn’t.
“Full-contact reading,” she mused aloud. “Patent it. I think you’re on to something.”
He shook his head. The expression he wore spoke volumes about his questions on her sanity. “You’re staring at me. I was explaining the bruise. I got hit in the face.”
“This is staring.” She dipped her chin and fixed her eyes on him, unblinking. “Or this,” she added, turning her face slightly away and watching him from the corner of her eye. When he smiled, she snorted. “Why would anyone hit you, especially in the face? Isn’t such a thing illegal?”
“I imagine the fact I hit him first might have influenced his decision.”
“Actually, I meant it should be illegal to harm such a work of art. Did you punch him last?”
He gave her a short nod. “I did. Would you like to go with me tonight?”
The fact their conversation made absolutely no sense didn’t compute at all in McKenna’s decision to continue it. At some point she’d set her elbows on the table and leaned even closer to him. It was only disturbing because she didn’t remember doing it. He was like a magnet, drawing her in.
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