Never Tied Down (The Never Duet #2)

by Anie Michaels

  When we’d pulled into the viewpoint we’d been the only car there, but nothing was stopping anyone else from driving up. The thrill of someone coming upon us fucking each other against the car not only shot new, hot blood directly to my cock, but it also made my hackles rise. I didn’t want anyone else to see my Kalli while she was experiencing ecstasy—just me. I wanted to be the only one to give it to her and the only one to see her face as I did it.

  Public sex was a thrill and sounded good in theory, but I knew I’d never forgive myself if we were ever caught. I hated to do it, but I pulled my mouth from the sensitive skin of her neck and looked her in the eyes as I gripped the back of her neck.

  “I’d like nothing more than to take you right here, baby, but I’m not going to let anyone else see what’s mine. But when we get home, I’m gonna do all the dirty things running through my mind to you and make you sorry you teased me out here.”

  She smiled and winked. “I’m not teasing. If you wanted me out here, I’d let you take me.”

  A growl escaped me and I kissed her again, hard, but then I turned and walked away, adjusting myself as I crossed in front of the car. I climbed in and she had on a grin that was both infuriating and adorable. Her smile said she knew she’d gotten to me, knew I was seconds away from throwing out my reservations and taking her up against the side of a car in the middle of a parking lot on the side of a highway.

  “You’re going to pay for that later,” I said, starting the engine.

  “I’m looking forward to it,” she said sweetly, still looking at her phone. “Okay, more questions.”

  I rubbed my hand over my face, still trying to calm down and get rid of the pressure in my pants.

  “What’s your favorite flower?”

  Well, that’s one way to make an erection go away.

  “My favorite flower?” I repeated, pulling back onto the highway and turning on my lights, as the sunlight was fading quickly.

  “Yeah,” she replied, laughing.

  “Babe, I don’t have a favorite flower.”

  “Really?” She sounded sincere. “You don’t like any flower at all?”

  I thought about her question a little harder because it seemed like it was weirdly important to her that I liked a particular flower. I searched through my memories, trying to come up with a time when I’d appreciated a flower at all. Suddenly, I had it.

  “Okay, well, this is going to sound weird, but Pops’ mom lived in a retirement community after my granddad passed away. She had her own little manufactured home, but everyone who lived there was old. Anyway, she spent her days in her rose garden. Every time we visited, she would take Halah and I out in her backyard and show us all the different kinds of roses she had. There must have been twenty different kinds, at least. I was only a kid, and I wanted to be inside playing my Game Boy, but I do remember the way her backyard smelled of roses. And every time I smell that scent, I think of my grandma.”

  “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” Kalli said, her voice high-pitched and sickly sweet.

  “Hey, you asked. That’s the only opinion I have about flowers at all. Roses smell good.”

  “It’s still cute. You’re adorable.”

  Yep. Erection gone.

  “Well, I love peonies,” she added.

  “Noted. I’ll remember that when I inevitably fuck up and need to send you apology flowers.”

  Kalli let out a sharp laugh. “You don’t have to send me flowers ever again, babe. I think you hit your flowers quota for life.” She gave another laugh and then thumbed her phone again. I was left completely confused.

  “What do you mean? I haven’t sent you that many flowers. Just a few times when you wouldn’t talk to me after what happened at Lego Land.”

  “What about all those flowers you sent to my house after Marcus died?”

  All the coherent thoughts tumbled out of my head at the same time—it was completely empty. I had no idea how to respond. Someone had obviously sent her flowers and for whatever reason, she assumed they were from me.

  “Kalli, I’m sorry, but I didn’t send you those. After Marcus died, you told me to go away, to leave you alone, so that’s what I did. Looking back, I wish I had sent you some flowers, but it wasn’t me.” I turned and looked at her and then reached my hand out for hers when I saw the expression on her face. It was a mixture of confusion and fear.

  “The neighbor lady who lives across the street said flowers came every week.”

  Whoa. That was a lot of flowers. Who would send someone flowers once a week? And how could she have no idea who sent them? “Didn’t they come with cards or anything?”

  “Yeah,” she breathed, her voice faint as her hand coming up to cover her mouth with spread fingers. “The lady across the street handed me a stack of cards, but I assumed they were from you and I didn’t open them.” She looked over at me. “That was before I moved to LA. I was still in so much pain, I didn’t want to hurt anymore, so I didn’t read them. I knew it would wreck me.”

  “Babe, I’m sorry, but they weren’t from me. I’d tell you if they were.”

  “Then who sent me flowers once a week for months? Riot, I’m a little creeped out.”

  I could feel her trembling and I had no words to calm her. Honestly, I agreed it was a little weird, but I wasn’t about to let anything happen to Kalli. I didn’t care who sent her those flowers, they wouldn’t be getting anywhere near her without facing me first.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Devastation

  Kalli

  I’d tried not to panic in the car, tried to let the way Riot’s thumb was rubbing softly against the back of my hand soothe me. I forced myself to take in deep breaths and let them out slowly. I closed my eyes and listened to the way the tires crackled against the pavement of the highway. All of that only went so far to calm me down. I kept picturing bouquets of flowers sitting on my doorstep with cryptic messages, someone lurking in the darkness between houses, watching my house, waiting for me to come home and receive them.

  The more I thought about it, however, the more I convinced myself that whoever was sending the flowers hadn’t actually been watching me or my house. Otherwise they would have known I wasn’t there and that my neighbor was the one taking the flowers. If the intention was to make me uncomfortable, they hadn’t succeeded—until now.

  We’d had such a wonderful holiday getaway, aside from my panic attack. But even that brought on a sort of cathartic release in a way. I’d been forced to let my closest friends see what I was dealing with, and in some strange way, it made dealing with it easier. Riot and I were closer than ever, and a three-day drive down the west coast had been absolutely perfect until I brought up flowers. Stupid flowers.

  Finally, Riot parked at my apartment, shut the car off, and turned toward me. “You’ve got the cards from the flowers in there, right?” I nodded. “Okay, I’d like to read them first. I don’t want you panicking about it, no matter who they’re from.”

  I thought his concern was sweet, and I loved him even more for wanting to spare me from any more grief, but not looking at the cards would drive me crazy.

  “How about we look at them together? I don’t think I’ll be able to sit by and let you take care of it.”

  “Okay, but if you start to get upset I’m taking them away.”

  “All right.” Relationships were about compromise, right? I knew he was only trying to protect me. I couldn’t fault him for that.

  He held my hand all the way up to my door then insisted on opening it himself. He followed me back to the bedroom area of my studio apartment and I went straight to my jewelry box. Where else would a girl keep a stack of notes she thought were from the love of her life? My neighbor had placed a rubber band around the stack of cards, and when I pulled it off I noticed my hands were trembling. I sat down on the edge of my bed, Riot taking a seat so close our thighs were touching, and I pulled the top card off the stack.

  I flipped it over and ripped
open the seal, sliding the tiny card out, holding my breath all the while.

  Kalli,

  I wish there was some other way to contact you, but all I can find is your address. I hope you’re doing well, although I suspect you aren’t. I know I have no right to hear from you, but please consider reaching out. I’d love nothing more than to talk to you.

  Sincerely,

  Kevin

  “Who the hell is Kevin?” Riot asked, his voice instantly cold and harsh. It matched what I was feeling on the inside. However, in addition to the cold harshness, I was also feeling immediate anger, raging anger at that. I was enraged. Absolutely aflame with anger. This flame, however, was empty, cold, and dangerous. My fingers tightened around the paper of the card and it started crumpling in my hand. My heart was thundering in my chest and all I could feel was its echo throughout my body. “Kalli? Who is this Kevin guy?”

  “Kevin is my father.”

  As it turned out, the cards were not stacked in any particular order. They also didn’t have dates on them. So, after I’d opened them all, read them all, cursed my father’s name, then read them again, I only had a general idea of the timeline. The early ones were easy to spot, the first one being the most obvious.

  Kalli,

  I just heard about your brother and I am so very sorry. I wish things were different and that I could be there for you at this trying time, but I know you’re in good hands. I think of you often and wish, every day, I’d made better choices all those years ago.

  Sincerely,

  Kevin

  He knew I was in good hands. Huh. That was interesting. I was in good hands, but those were the hands of people who’d known me less than two years. They weren’t family. I’d just lost my last piece of my family. Well, except Nancy. But Nancy had been just as broken as I was.

  I was so angry at him. Angrier than I had been in a long while. He had no right to weasel his way into my life, especially not when I was defenseless.

  Despite my anger, I was silent as I read the cards. That seemed to be the hardest part for Riot. He sat on the bed, next to me, reading the cards over my shoulder, asking me time and again if I was all right, but I couldn’t answer him right away. I didn’t know if I was all right. I couldn’t fathom anything right then besides devastation.

  Kalli,

  I know you’re going through a lot, but I can’t sit by anymore not knowing if you’re all right. Please, call me. 619-555-8652.

  Sincerely,

  Kevin

  I read that particular note over and over again, wondering why he’d been able to go for more than twenty years without knowing if I was okay, but all of a sudden he’d been desperate for information. I closed my eyes, tossed the card on the floor, pulled up my knees, and rolled to my side. It wasn’t even a full second before Riot’s firm warm body was behind mine, cocooning me, his arms wrapping tightly around me.

  “He can’t ignore me for most of my life and then decide, all of a sudden, to care,” I whispered. “It’s not fair.” A different sort of panic was coming over me. I wasn’t anxious, but I could feel the eruption of emotion coming and anticipating it was causing just as much panic.

  “I know, baby,” he whispered into my ear. But he didn’t. His parents had been there from the start. Both of them. He’d never had to wonder why his father didn’t love him enough to stick around. Never had to spend nights in bed thinking about the fact that his father felt tied down by him, felt like he wasn’t free anymore. Suddenly, it was all too much.

  A strangled sob broke free from me, and I cried out. Again, in less than a second, Riot had turned me so I faced him, and his arms brought me close, holding me to him, allowing me to cry into his chest. I didn’t need him to understand my pain, I only needed him to be there for me. That’s all I’d ever need from him, just his presence. That was also the one thing I was afraid to lose the most. I’d always been afraid I was broken like my father. Afraid that no matter what, I’d never be able to stick around for someone I loved. Afraid I’d fall in love, maybe even have a child, and then realize I wasn’t built to love that way.

  But I knew, so very deep down on the inside, I’d never leave Riot, and I couldn’t imagine ever not being there for our future children. That realization, that level of love I had for Riot, only made the lack of love my father had for me hurt all that much more. Every soft touch of Riot’s hand, every tiny display of physical affection, made me wonder why my father hadn’t loved me enough.

  As best I could, I’d dealt with my father’s absence when I was younger. I’d spent countless nights wondering where he was, who he was with, what kind of life he was leading that was better than the one he’d had with my mother and me. Growing up without a father sucked. It scarred me on a level no one would ever understand. But the scar was leftover from a wound that had healed. I had lived, Mom and I had moved on, and we’d managed to build a pretty good life. Kevin coming to me years later and trying to make contact with me, well, that was just the same as opening up old wounds. He’d lost all rights to know how I was doing on my seventh birthday when he’d left and not looked back.

  “I don’t know what to do with all these feelings,” I cried, completely lost in what seemed to be a bottomless pit of anger, fear, sadness, and loss.

  “Just cry it out, Kal. Give them to me. I’ll take care of it.”

  If I hadn’t already been sobbing, his words would have thrown me over into the abyss. There had been a time in my life where I’d convinced myself I didn’t deserve the kind of love Riot gave me. I’d told myself I wasn’t worthy of that kind of selfless, all-encompassing love. And perhaps I wasn’t. Maybe that was the secret to it all. If I knew I was lucky to have him, maybe I’d never take him for granted. I never wanted him to feel anything like what I was experiencing in that moment. I never wanted him to wonder why I hadn’t cared enough about him.

  Suddenly, and maybe it was the lack of love from my father staring me in the face, but my love for Riot had never been clearer to me or more tangible. It filled the hole that had been gaping most of my life.

  “I love you,” I cried into the stubble under his chin, my hands coming to pull his neck closer to me, wanting to smell his scent, feel his heartbeat through the thin skin there. The panic was still there, but now I was panicking that I’d never be able to show him how I loved him, to apologize for pushing him away like I had. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  I was exactly like my dad. I had run away. I had left him behind. It had been months, not years, and I hadn’t abandoned a child, but I’d let Riot love me, then I’d taken that love away. I was just as bad as Kevin.

  “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, baby,” he said quietly, rocking me back and forth, his hand running down the back of my head, smoothing down my hair.

  “I’m just like him.”

  My face was quickly brought level with his, his eyes searching mine, his hands gripping my face with gentle fierceness.

  “You are nothing like him, Kalli,” he said in a deep, gravelly voice. “I never want to hear you say something like that again. He’s a coward. A man who abandoned his child and the woman who gave him that child. He was selfish and a poor excuse for a man.” His eyes grew darker, darting back and forth between mine. “He left because he didn’t want to take responsibility for his family. You are nothing like him.”

  I couldn’t respond, couldn’t find any words to argue with him, even though I was sure he was wrong. He had to be. I was a runner.

  “You’ve spent the last chunk of your life caring for your brother, the most selfless thing I’ve ever witnessed. And you didn’t leave me, Kal. I know that’s what you’re thinking.” He pressed his mouth to my forehead. “People respond to grief in a million different ways and your reaction was perfectly acceptable. You’ll never have to apologize to me for that. What your father did was inexcusable.”

  Without thinking much about it, I pressed my lips to his. My cheeks were wet from tears, my hands trembling from adrenal
ine, and my chest was heaving from the ragged breaths I was taking in, but all I wanted to feel was his lips pressed against mine. I loved him with everything I was, and I wanted to feel that love.

  “Please,” I whispered against his lips, pressing my body up against his. He kissed me back, his lips and teeth gently tugging on my mouth, but I could feel his hesitation. “I need you,” I said, this time moving my mouth over his cheek and down his jaw. “Make me feel something besides this emptiness.”

  Those words brought him over the edge with me. Suddenly I was beneath him, one of his hands on my face, the other sliding around my waist. I arched up into him, my hands running through his hair, gripping the strands, holding his mouth to mine.

  His hand slid up under the hem of my shirt, grazing over my breast, and I suddenly needed to be bare with him, to have nothing covering me except him. I reached down and tugged off my shirt, throwing it on the floor beside the bed. I was frantic. I reached for my leggings, starting to pull them down my thighs, when his hands covered mine.

  “There’s no hurry, baby. I’ve got you. Let me make you feel good.”

  And with those words I gave my body over to Riot. I let him lead me, let him set the pace, let him put my mind at ease.

  He straddled my thighs, both his hands on my stomach, then slid them up slowly. He gripped the cups of my bra and pulled both down, exposing my breasts. He palmed one of them, but bent low to take the other in his mouth. I arched again, offering him everything. As my back lifted off the bed, his hands snaked around and unlatched my bra, pulling it down my shoulders, then his mouth returned to my breast, sucking and pulling.

  He rolled off me, keeping one thigh draped over my leg, his mouth still working my nipple, and his other hand snaked down my front, slipping into the waistband of my leggings. I immediately flexed my hips, trying to give him the access he needed, wanting desperately to feel him. When his fingers slipped into my folds I gasped at the contact. As he dipped into me, he groaned. His sounds made goose bumps pop up all over my skin; the feeling of his voice vibrating against my sensitive nipple was dangerously erotic.