Unbalanced

by Parkerson, Charity

  “I’m sorry.”

  He had no idea how much she regretted missing out. She wanted to cry over the thought of how much her body needed his.

  He gripped the arms of her chair, leaning in. “Don’t worry over it. I’ll be here the moment I get off. Until then, I want you picturing all the naughty stuff I’ll do to you.” He touched his lips to hers. “And I’ll come up with a list of demands,” he added as he opened his mouth over hers. The cinnamon flavor that was uniquely Kurt coated her tongue. There were thousands of things she wanted to say and do. Instead, she did her best to make him understand with a single kiss. Her every emotion was so strong she couldn’t believe he could stand under the weight of them once she threw them his way.

  His lips clung to her skin. “Think of me.”

  As if she had a choice.

  * * * * *

  He should quit this place. It was a thought that grew a little more with each day. The thrill of the hunt disappeared the moment he’d met McKenna. She made him realize what he’d been missing. It was her. The more he thought things over, the more certain he became. He was turning in his two-week notice.

  “Why are you hiding back here by yourself?”

  Kurt’s heart slammed against the wall of his chest. He never allowed anyone to sneak up on him. There wasn’t any denying Patrick had managed it.

  “Slow night,” Kurt answered, pasting on his smoothest of smiles. He might have been caught unawares but he didn’t have to show it.

  “Good. Then you have time for me.”

  Fuck. “Of course.” Straightening away from the wall, Kurt pulled the security pass from his back pocket. “I apologize for causing you to seek me out. It’s not like me to ignore my duties,” he said, intent on brushing past him and attempting to scan his pass. Before he could reach the keypad, Patrick pressed his palm against the brick, blocking his path. Kurt released an inner sigh.

  “You misunderstand.”

  No. He really didn’t. Most people were smart enough to realize Kurt didn’t come back for seconds. Unfortunately, the five-foot-ten male whose clear-blue eyes had tempted him once had clearly not gotten the memo.

  “I’m not known for my depth.”

  Patrick smirked. “I beg to differ. You’re known far and wide for how deep you’re willing to go.” He let the words hang between them for a second before adding, “As a matter of fact, the last time we were out here, you told me in great detail exactly how far you’d take me into your throat.”

  If Kurt was honest with himself, he’d known this night would come. This side of Patrick was what had attracted Kurt in the first place. He’d known it was there, simmering under the surface waiting for release. Well, here it was.

  “And have you been envisioning it?” Kurt wanted to kick his own ass the moment the question fell from his lips. Even he didn’t know where he was going with this. It was a move to stall until he thought of something better.

  “Every night.”

  It was Kurt’s turn to smirk. “Was I good?”

  “Very. It’s time you proved it.”

  Before Kurt had a chance to respond, Patrick closed the gap between them, touching his lips to Kurt’s. It didn’t seem to matter that he was unresponsive. Patrick simply traveled from his lips to his throat. In his shock, Kurt threw his hands up in surrender. He didn’t know who he was attempting to show that he wasn’t touching the man in any way since they were alone. It didn’t matter. He didn’t want there to be any misunderstanding.

  “Whoa. Sorry to interrupt.”

  At the dryly spoken words, Patrick sprang away from Kurt, flushing. His embarrassment over getting busted kissing another man had nothing on Kurt’s horror over who’d caught them. The expression McKenna wore was one of cold indifference but her eyes…

  Kurt waved his card in front of the keypad, disengaging the lock. Patrick disappeared inside without a backward glance.

  “It wasn’t what it looked like.”

  He couldn’t count high enough to describe the number of times he’d heard that lame-ass line. Never once had it passed his lips before now. Even he wanted to roll his eyes. Seriously? He couldn’t think of anything better? It was cold enough that Kurt could see his breath. McKenna wasn’t wearing a coat. Her bare arms bugged him. It made her seem all the more vulnerable.

  “It’s one thing to be stupid and a whole other to know it. Either way, I’m not enjoying it. Turns out, Gray was right all along.”

  He didn’t understand anything she was saying. Not that she intended to give him time to decipher her words, it seemed. He was staring at the empty space where she’d been standing a full five seconds after she walked away.

  *

  It had taken McKenna twenty minutes to decide she wouldn’t get a single word written after Kurt left. The look on his face when she’d refused to go with him kept intruding. He’d seemed so unhappy. Damn, she was such an idiot. All the times Gray accused her of secretly wishing for a bad boy while promising that type would only hurt her came crashing back. It hadn’t been true then and it wasn’t the truth now. She didn’t want a bad boy. She’d craved Kurt.

  “Hold up. McKenna, don’t leave it like this. Talk to me. Please?”

  McKenna’s heart twisted. Why couldn’t he let her go? It wasn’t as if he cared about her in any way. At the door of her Camry, she spun and unleashed her fury. “What, Kurt? What do you want to hear?”

  He looked desperate. She’d fallen for it too many times already. “I want you to say you believe I didn’t instigate anything. He came on to me.”

  A wry smile pulled at her lips. She was incapable of holding it back. “But I don’t. Believe you, that is,” she admitted. “From the moment we met, I knew I was being fed bullshit at every turn. I told myself it didn’t matter. You’re sexy as sin. I’d be okay if you weren’t really interested in keeping me. You’re amazing in every way. I could live with only having part of you. What could it hurt, right?” A derisive snort escaped her. “The thing is, out of the two of us, I’m the bigger liar. Turns out, it does matter. I do want all of you and this does hurt. A lot.” If he responded, she didn’t hear it. Her mind turned inward. Memories suffocated her. “I guess I had this coming. Karma is a patient bitch, it seems.”

  McKenna’s eyes focused on Kurt. Her brain refused. She could see his mouth moving but not a hint of sound reached her ears. Even though he was trying to talk to her, she got into the car, closing the door on his words. She’d survive this the way she did everything, by shutting down.

  Chapter Five

  How the man didn’t feel McKenna’s stare prickling at his skin was beyond her. It took her a good ten minutes to decide he was indeed the same man from the match against Kurt. His size and muscular jawline were unique but she didn’t take it as a given. Considering Vegas’ high population, there was every probability there could be more than one man with his build. It wasn’t until something outside the window caught his eye and he turned to look that she became certain. The muscles in his jaw flexed. He’d worn the same expression that night.

  “May I join you?”

  He didn’t seem surprised by her request. More than likely, he had strange women approach him on a daily basis. He eyed her for a moment before responding.

  “Have we met? You look familiar.”

  Unsure of what the odds were of him remembering her from the Warehouse District, she weighed her words before deciding on the truth. “I was with Kurt the night you were injured.” She motioned toward his arm before realizing how ridiculous the move had been. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know which part of him had been damaged.

  He waved for her to have a seat. He waited until she settled before asking any more questions.

  “How did you find me?”

  His inquiry confused her. “Are you in the witness protection program?”

  The hint of a smile touched his lips. “No.”

  “Then your question is irrational.” She flashed a grin to take the sting out of her word
s. “As it happens, I was sitting over there when you walked in.” She pointed at the booth where her laptop still sat.

  He didn’t look. “I didn’t notice.”

  “People usually don’t.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “I’m certain I am the expert in this case.”

  He didn’t argue again. “You’ve been crying.”

  “I don’t sleep.” It wasn’t a lie. She didn’t sleep but she wouldn’t admit to shedding a single tear. Tears meant she cared for the state of her heart. She did not. It had died with Gray.

  “Miss Jones.” Asher’s voice broke into their conversation, saving her from responding. He wore a friendly smile. Even broken, her inner girl sighed.

  She responded without thought. “It’s Ms. Richards, actually. Jones is my pen name.”

  “Ms. Richards, then. It’s nice to see you again.”

  “You as well. Of course, I’m always happy to see someone who smells as good as you. It brightens my day.” She added a wink to let him know she was playing. It was also an attempt to hide her surprise. He remembered her name. Of course, she remembered his too but she—unfortunately—never forgot anything. Sliding out of the booth, she motioned for Asher to take her seat. “I’ll leave the two of you alone. Maybe say hi next time you’re in,” she said, directing her final words at Brian. He tilted his head to the side assessing her but she didn’t wait for his response. Trailing away, she wondered if he’d bother or why she had.

  All of ten minutes passed when a flower appeared at her elbow. She flashed Christy a grateful smile for handling its delivery before absently reading the card. “Some people believe tulips are a common flower, forgetting how many travelers flock to Holland to see them in full bloom. You are a tulip. Even as many adore you, you’re an overlooked treasure. As it happens, I find tulips fascinating.”

  McKenna thought tulips were a bit bland. She loved this one. “Ms. Richards.”

  McKenna glanced up to find Brian hovering at the edge of her table. “It’s McKenna.”

  He bit down on his bottom lip, obviously attempting to hide his amusement. “Do you meet anyone without correcting them?”

  “Not if they call me by the right name on the first try. Would you like to join me?” Accepting her offer, he settled his elbows on the table and leaned forward. Someone had raised him to look people in the eye, she surmised. It was a strong quality. She closed her laptop, showing him the same courtesy.

  “So, McKenna Richards with the pen name Jones, are you the owner of this establishment?”

  “Do you intend to file a complaint?”

  A dimple appeared at the corner of his mouth. “No, ma’am.”

  He possessed an entire arsenal of manners.

  “Then yes, I am. How’s the arm?”

  He stretched out the limb and flexed his fingers. Her eyes locked on the way his muscles flexed. “It’s still weak. I’m working on it.”

  “I’ve never seen as many professional fighters in my life as I have the past few months. My theory is someone planted a sexy bush in the parking lot of my store and yes, I did say that,” she added before he could point it out.

  Instead of poking fun at her terminology, he eyed her questioningly. “I don’t know about a sexy bush but you are right across the street from No Rival.”

  “The name does sound familiar.”

  Brian snorted. “It should. It’s the most famous MMA training center in the United States. Even if you don’t follow the sport, you’d be hard-pressed to miss ever hearing about it, since it’s owned by the US heavyweight champion. They’ve also helped produce some of the world’s top fighters. You’ve probably been tripping over them on a daily basis for years.”

  “Interesting,” McKenna mused. His maroon t-shirt strained against the muscles in his arms and chest, complementing his mocha skin. Why were women weak? “I’ve noticed there are several regular customers who possess more than their fair share of perfectly symmetrical features.” It was the politest way she could think of describing the panty dampening muscular men who walked through the door each day. They gave her inspiration to keep writing. He eyed her carefully. A slow grin spread across his face.

  “Oh. Ha. You’re fucking with me.”

  He was intelligent. She liked it. “Yes. I’m sorry. It’s a habit I have a difficult time beating into submission. I’m aware of No Rival.” Before he could comment, she asked, “Do you plan to sue Kurt?”

  Her rapid change of topics didn’t seem to faze him nor did he attempt to misunderstand. “Even if it were an option, I wouldn’t. I chose to face-off against one of the most vicious fighters in Vegas. It was a calculated risk.”

  “Huh.” McKenna wasn’t sure what she’d wanted him to say. It’s not as if she hoped for anything to happen to Kurt. On the other hand, if Asher wasn’t meeting Brian for business then it sort of pissed her off. Rhys had been nice to her. He’d not once called her crazy even after she’d asked to sniff Asher’s skin. Was everyone she met a cheat?

  “Rhys would kill me. Not to mention, Asher loves him.” Was he a mind reader? “I didn’t say a word.”

  “Actually, you did.”

  Fuck.

  “Heard that too.”

  McKenna closed her eyes in horror. “I swear I’m not crazy. That’s a lie,” she amended immediately.

  Brian released a low chuckle. It set her at ease faster than any words could have. “Why the pen name?”

  “So the perverts who send me videos of themselves masturbating won’t show up at my door.”

  He didn’t miss a beat. “I hate it when that happens. Why were you crying?”

  “I caught Kurt with someone else. I really don’t sleep,” she added in case he thought she’d been lying earlier.

  “I don’t either. Want to stay awake together?” A line appeared between his eyebrows. “I didn’t intend to sound as if I’m asking you to have to sex. This conversation went differently inside my head.”

  “I didn’t take it that way. I’ve been propositioned. It sounds more like this.” She deepened her voice. “Hey baby you look tired. My face is real comfy. Why don’t you have a seat.”

  A rumble of laughter came from Brian’s chest. He had gorgeous, white teeth and sweet, chocolate-colored eyes. Being in his company was peaceful. Her throat tightened without warning. The backs of her eyes stung with unshed tears. Brian’s smile faded away.

  “My mother passed away last week. Asher is, was her attorney.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” she responded automatically, thankful for something else to think about than her problems.

  “She’d been fighting a long time. It was almost a relief.”

  “No. It wasn’t.”

  “No. It wasn’t,” he agreed with a bitter smile. “But it’s what everyone expects me to say.”

  McKenna nodded. “When my husband died, the asinine comments were almost as hard to swallow as his death. He’s in a better place now. The mortician did a great job. He looks like he’s sleeping. You have to be strong. It’s what he would’ve wanted. Nobody knew Gray the way I did. That’s not what he would’ve expected out of me. It was emotional blackmail to keep me from doing what I really wanted.”

  A wry smile twisted Brian’s lips. “Scream? Rant? Break shit?”

  “All of the above. You should do those things.”

  “I already have,” he admitted. “Now, I want to forget, if only for a little while, or be someone else entirely.”

  It was the same as looking in a mirror for McKenna. “I’d be delighted to spend a night of no monkey-sex in your company. Do you drink?”

  “Not often.”

  It was settled. “Awesome. You should start. I’ll drive.”

  Brian pushed his chair away from the table. “I’m in.”

  * * * * *

  Sweat dripped from his face. It was a rare occasion but Kurt was about to lose. He could feel it in the air. His heart wasn’t in it tonight and his opponent kne
w it. He swiped at his cheek. A flash of red told the real story. He was bleeding. The phantom smell of burning flesh assailed his senses. A roar began inside his head. Now wasn’t the time for this shit. Another blow landed against his jawline. It snapped his head back. The room spun. He went down to one knee. Unwilling to give up, Kurt shot back to his feet. It caused the room to tilt on its axis. His back hit the mat. In the distance, as if through a tunnel, he could hear a bell chiming. Even as he was pulled to his feet and helped from the mat, everything seemed muted. Reality had lost its edge.

  It wasn’t until someone patted his shoulder Kurt realized he’d been staring at the locker across from his for longer than he cared to admit after getting dressed.

  “Everyone loses one every now and again.”

  Kurt glanced over at the baldheaded guy who was attempting to reassure him. The man thought Kurt cared. Huh. Perhaps there were people out there who did. How much longer could he go on?

  Baldy flashed him a conspiratorial smile. “I hear that guy whose arm you snapped is done for.” He released a dry laugh, as if someone losing their dream was humorous. What an asshat. Who was this guy?

  “They say he was good and even Rhys Collier expected him to eventually take the title. Guess it won’t be happening now.” He chortled. The sound ran down Kurt’s spine, snapping his last nerve. Without a thought, his fist snaked out. It landed in the center of Baldy’s face. He went down and didn’t get up. Kurt stepped over him, catching the shocked gaze of the only witness. He’d fought him once but couldn’t remember his name. It was Josh or Greg. Something along those lines. One of those four letter names.

  Kurt shrugged as he walked past on his way to the door. “He owes me money.”

  The other guy’s blue Mohawk moved in time with his nod. “Gotta do what you gotta do.”

  Yep. If the men in this place understood one thing, it was paying in blood for a debt.