by Nashoda Rose
“Savvy.” His expression softened, and he ran his hand over my head to the nape of my neck. “Did I wake you?”
“No.” I reached up and placed my hand on his heated chest. “Do you do this often?”
His brows furrowed and it contradicted his half smile. “When I can’t sleep.”
I stepped into him, chin tilted up and my other hand curling around his forearm. “You’re beautiful fighting.”
His jaw clenched. “It’s not fighting, Savvy. It’s working out.”
But it was fighting. He fought something. I saw it in his expression. His body. In every hit. I just didn’t know what he was fighting. His father? Himself? Or something else?
What worried me was that he still hid behind the wall and I didn’t know if I was strong enough to get through to the other side.
But how could I expect him to give me that part of him when I was holding back? In order to have all of him, I had to give him all of me and risk the pain of getting hurt again.
And as he held me in his arms, the sun a soft glow on the side of his face, the week-old scruff along his jaw and a bead of sweat dripping down his temple, I knew there was no walking away from him.
He was worth the risk.
The hidden. The complicated. The man who had demons behind the captivating green eyes, but within the depths also lived a man who cared. Who protected. Who made my heart skip a beat and my breath stop.
He leaned forward and kissed me, his fingers fisting in my hair. I sagged into him, my bare skin instantly damp and heated by his. No matter how amazing it felt in his embrace, he was still tense in his arms. His touch.
Whatever kept him awake and made him hit the bag still lingered.
He pulled back. “Going to shower, baby.”
He didn’t ask me to join him, and I saw the conflict on his face as he continued to battle whatever was bothering him. Releasing my hair, he stepped back, but I moved with him.
“Killian?” His brows lifted. “Don’t go.” I slid my hand down to the sparse hairs on his pelvis then lower to his workout shorts where his cock was already erect.
“Let me shower first.”
I shook my head. “No. I want you here. Right now.” Against his bag. Where I suspected a lot of his demons lived. I wanted him to think of me when he punched the bag instead of whatever hunted him.
His eyes flicked to his bag chained to a steel beam.
Neither of us said anything, and I waited to see if he’d let me in enough to do this.
“Stay here.” He strode into the kitchen, and I heard a drawer open and shut and then he walked back with what looked like rope dangling from his hand. My heart skipped a beat and belly thunked, but it was a good thunk. An excited thunk.
“Give me your wrists,” he said, stopping in front of me.
There was no hesitation as I held them out in front of me. He was deliberate and methodical as he tied my wrists together with the rope like he knew exactly what he was doing. Like he’d done this before.
“You’ve done this before?”
“The ropes, yes,” he said without looking at me. Something was wrong. He was being cold and avoiding my eyes.
“Killian?”
“Raise your arms above your head,” he ordered.
“Killian?” I repeated as I did as he requested. He reached the chain and threaded the end of the rope through a link, and I felt the tautness on my wrists. “Are you going to look at me?”
His chest was against mine as he knotted the rope, so my arms were hitched above my head and my back was against the hard leather of the bag.
“Killian. Look at me.” I said, but he still didn’t. “See me.” Because whatever he saw now wasn’t me. It was too precise and unemotional. Something had shifted from the bag to him tying me up. “Killian,” I whispered. “Please.”
His arms lowered and his hands glided down my arms to my waist where his fingers spanned them. His eyes were closed, and his lips pressed firmly together.
“Does this remind you of someone else?” I asked.
His eyes snapped open. “There is no one else.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
He clenched his jaw. “Jesus, Savvy. You. It’s you. It’s this. You asking me to do this. You knowing what I need when I’m supposed to be the one giving you what you need.” He bowed his head, and I wished I could hold him. Touch him.
“What I need is you.” I waited until his head lifted and our eyes locked. “Just you and whatever comes with you. The hurt. The pain. The anger. The sweet and the caring. All of you.”
My sex tweaked because the look in his eyes was heated and possessive. He reached for me, and my breath hitched, and goose bumps popped before he even made contact.
And when he did make contact, it was his thumb tracing the plump surface of my lower lip then to my chin, neck, collarbone and to the crevice between my breasts. His eyes followed his caress until he stopped at my belly button. “You don’t know all of me.”
“I know,” I replied.
He nodded, then his finger continued its path to my sex, and I sucked in a lungful of air as he slipped into the wetness. “Never have I been with someone. Not like you.”
Lowering his head, his lips a breath away from mine, he inserted his finger up inside me at the same time as his mouth took mine.
Warmth invaded, and the chain clanked as I yanked on the rope. The hard leather of the bag swayed into my back and pushed me closer to him. He groaned and grabbed me around the waist, deepening the kiss.
Having the weight of the bag at my back and him at my front, both pressing into me, was cathartic. Unable to get away. Not wanting to, but being vulnerable to him… it was erotic and overwhelming and intense.
It was trusting him completely. A giving of myself, letting go and surrendering to him.
He broke away and yanked off his shorts then checked my wrists and rope before he hitched me up in his arms. He used one hand to position his cock and the other to hold my ass.
I wrapped my legs around him. “Hard, Killian. I want you to fuck me like when you hit the bag.”
His brows lowered for a second. “Savvy,” he growled and then he kissed me again, as he pushed his cock deep inside.
But he didn’t move.
Instead, he kissed me while I curled my hands around the rope, using it as leverage to hold my body up. But I didn’t need to. Killian’s arms held me.
And he’d never let me go. I just wasn’t sure if that was literal or not. But right now it didn’t matter.
“I tried, baby. Fuck, I tried, but I couldn’t.”
“Tried?”
His cock pulsed inside me and my body throbbed with need, but I didn’t move as he rested his forehead against my chin. “Sex.”
My chest tightened and heart pounded. He couldn’t be saying what I think he was saying. “Killian? I don’t understand.”
He lifted his head and his eyes met mine. Those ice green eyes that reminded me of the Popsicles my dad and I ate on the porch.
“I’ve been with a lot of women. Mostly play. Bondage. But other things at the BDSM club. Two girls at once, fuck, it was easier when it was two girls, but I never fucked them. Never did my cock go inside them. You’re the first, Savvy.” My eyes widened and I gasped. “I tried once after you left. But I couldn’t do it. All I saw was you.”
“Killian.” My insides melted in a heat of… what? Love. Did I love Killian?
He briefly kissed my quivering lips. “I didn’t want to ruin the image of being inside you. So, I kept that for myself.”
Oh, God. A tear escaped and rolled down my cheek. He saw it and kissed it away.
“Now that I have you and the image is real… fuck, I can’t let you go again.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Killian.”
He groaned and tilted his hips. His cock sank deeper and I closed my eyes.
Then there were no more words as he fucked me against the bag. With each thrust, the bag moved away and
then swayed back into me.
It was hard. Fast. And just when I thought my wrists couldn’t take it anymore, he reached up and yanked on the loose end and the rope released.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. He met my fierce need with his own as he carried me to bed then lowered me, his lips never leaving mine.
Then Killian made love to me.
It wasn’t wild and raw. But with each thrust, each touch, each kiss, it was the building of something more. Something neither of us could get back. Parts of us, maybe.
My mind spun with his words repeating over and over in my head. And in some ways, it hurt because I’d been with other men. I’d thought I was going to spend my life with David. I’d had a plan.
If he hadn’t cheated on me, if I hadn’t needed a job so desperately, I may have never gone to Killian. God, to think I’d have missed this.
Afterward, we lay in one another’s arms for a long time. My cheek on his chest and his arm over me as he gently caressed my back.
I traced one of the tattoos on his side as I spoke. “Ms. Evert, my last foster mother, asked me once what was so important about the orchid. I guess she wondered why I wanted to save it because I’d had it for a year as I went from foster home to foster home and it had never bloomed. It was kind of pathetic looking, actually.” His caressing stilled, and he tilted his chin to look at me as I did him. “I told her about you. How you fought. What you said to me. How you found me at the underground fight and saved me from getting caught. Then at the cemetery. Even what you told me about your dad.” He didn’t say anything. “She was the only person I told about your kiss that day. You know what she asked me? If I’d be sad if the orchid died.
“I told her the orchid was home.” His arm tightened around me. “At the time, it was. It was what came with me to each foster home, and when I looked at it, even as pathetic as it was, I smiled.” I trailed my fingers along his torso. “I told her I’d never let it go and she said you must be someone really special.
“I remember thinking about you when it bloomed and wishing you could see how beautiful the orchid became. Ms. Evert wanted me to put it in a nicer pot, but I liked the cracked pink one. It was you, Killian. The orchid. The pot. Damaged and hurt, but fighting to survive. And I guess I thought if I looked after it, you’d be okay.”
He kissed me on the top of the head. “Fuck, baby.”
I sat up so I could look at him. “I’ve always wanted a home. Somewhere I could settle and decorate and make memories. You know, like notches in the tree outside marking the kids as they grow. I’ve always wanted lots of kids.” His brows lifted at that. “Well, at least two so they could protect one another.” His body tightened and a darkness blanketed the brilliant green in his eyes. “I know you don’t want kids, Killian.”
He sat up, taking me with him, then lifted me so I straddled his waist, his hands on my hips. “I don’t. And, Savvy, no matter how much I want you, I can’t give you that.”
I nodded, my chest tight as I tried to hold back the tears. Because I didn’t know where that left us except on different paths.
He inhaled a ragged breath and his gaze held mine, tortured and pained. “I had a brother.” I tried to conceal my reaction, but my body stiffened and eyes widened. “In Ireland. Emmitt. He was a year and a half younger than me. A really good kid, and I swear he had your good bits scattered all through him, Savvy. There wasn’t a mean molecule in his body even when he had a reason to be mad at the world.” He closed his eyes, tilting his head back to rest on the headboard. “But not Emmitt. He accepted who he was and accepted everyone else and who they were.”
I sought out his hands, linked our fingers together and rested them on my thighs. He squeezed, and I knew this was really hard for him to talk about, but he was giving me this. A part of him.
“He even accepted my dad, although he didn’t always like him, but not for what he did to him, but for how he treated me. Emmitt had Tourette’s and our dad thought my brother could control the spontaneous blinking, but of course, he couldn’t. He’d make him practice in front of the mirror for hours which only made it worse. But it was football where my brother found his place. His freedom. God, he was so good at it and was going to go far and my dad knew it. Everyone did. He was a natural, and it’s where he was happiest, with a ball between his feet.”
Tears streamed down my cheeks. I knew where this was going wasn’t good and it pained me to hear his voice crack as he spoke.
“He was teased all the time. Bullied constantly by kids in school. Kids on the other football teams. I tried… fuck, I tried to protect him from it. I was his brother. I was supposed to protect him.”
He swallowed as if he were having trouble getting the words out. “I was kissing some chick. That’s why he walked home alone so I could stay late in class with the girl.” He released one of my hands and ran it down his face before he rubbed the inner corners of his eyes. “I found him on my way home later. He was face down in the river. Dead.”
I choked back the sob, biting my lip so hard I tasted blood.
“A few days later, three kids confessed that they’d chased him through the fields, throwing sheep dung at him. It was raining, and he slipped on the wooden bridge and fell through the rope rungs into the river. They took off instead of helping him. The fall didn’t kill him. The coroner said he was likely unconscious and drowned.”
I reached up and stroked the side of his face, unable to say anything. It had to be over fifteen years ago, and from his expression, it was like it happened yesterday. He carried so much guilt and pain with him.
For something he wasn’t responsible for. “You fought the bullies in school because of Emmitt.”
He nodded.
Oh, God. He blamed himself, and it was his way to try and ease the guilt. No wonder he’d been so angry all the time, and why I never saw him with any girls. “What happened to the kids?”
He shrugged. “Nothing. It was deemed an accident. A year later my dad moved us to Toronto.”
Sorry, wasn’t enough for losing someone. No words were. “Your brother, he sounds like an incredible person. I wish I’d met him.”
“Me too, Savvy.” He lifted me off his lap and climbed out of bed, then offered his hand. “Shower.” He was closing the subject. “Then we’ll go for breakfast before you go to the hospital.”
“Okay.”
I was volunteering and then working at the club. He’d yet to mention me working there, but I was pretty sure it was on his mind. And I was pretty sure he wasn’t happy about it.
I wanted to ask him more about Emmitt, about what happened to his mom, about the animosity between him and his father. Had it stemmed from Emmitt’s death? But it wasn’t the time, and I didn’t want to push him.
“Are you with the band today?” I asked as he led me into the bathroom.
“Yeah, we’re working on a new song for the album. I don’t know if I’ll be at Compass, but Luke or Roman will be there if I’m not.”
I stopped before he reached into the shower to turn on the water, and he turned to look at me. “Thank you, Killian. For sharing Emmitt with me.”
He pulled me into his arms and while holding my chin, he kissed me.
It was a drunk butterfly kiss. A kiss that went from the tip of my toes to the top of my head. A kiss that gave me the piece of him he’d kept from me.
Killian Kane had let me in.
I smiled when I read the text from Savvy.
When are you coming?
Fuck, I liked that. I liked that she missed me and it had only been eight hours since she left my bed. I’d dropped her off at the apartment then went to Logan’s to record for the day. She was going to work on her résumé which made me fuckin’ happy. I’d tried again to give her money to open her own studio, but Savvy had simply laughed.
I’d spanked her ass then fucked her from behind.
She was at Avalanche with Frankie and the girls from Compass celebrating Bree’s breakup wit
h her boyfriend. I guessed that was a good thing.
I typed back.
On my way, baby.
“You’re serious about her,” Logan said.
Eme was out of town for a couple days at a horse clinic she was giving, so Logan had decided to come with me to Avalanche.
“Yeah.” For three weeks, I’d woken to her scent as I held her in my arms. Fuck, getting this chance with her… it was all I’d ever wanted and didn’t think I’d get. And now the images I’d carried with me were real. “Always have been. Just couldn’t get there. But this shit with my dad… I can’t have it touch her.” I dragged my hand over my head. “What you went through with Emily… Christ, I don’t know how you both survived it. My father doesn’t come close to yours, but if he touches her… I don’t know what I’d do. Fuckin’ kill him and end up in jail.”
“We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen, Kite. What Eme went through because of me… fuck, it will haunt me for the rest of my days. It killed me. Every fuckin’ day it killed me. But nothing wins against love. It wins every single fuckin’ time.”
“He’s losing his horses,” I said. “Emily said the SPCA is doing a thorough investigation.”
The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals had removed another horse, Faith, from his stable. Emily had the mare at her and Logan’s farm along with TK, my informant. He was more than happy to leave my dad’s stable and now worked for her; she was teaching him her way to be with horses. A natural way.
Word was my father was giving up polo and his horses were for sale. I thought I’d feel happy about the fact he was crumbling, but it was more of a relief for the horses. There wasn’t the satisfaction I’d expected to feel that he was scrambling to keep his nightclubs alive. Because the fact was, I no longer cared. All I cared about was Savvy, and I wanted this to end. To walk away from the club business. Forget my father.
“You have Shield on her?” Logan asked as Luke pulled up to the pub.
“Roman is at her apartment when she’s there, but she’s at my place most of the time.”