by Jen Davis
He sported a black left eye and a shadowed right cheek. He stooped over a little and clutched his ribs as he shuffled in.
She slid under his arm and allowed him to use her for support as he lurched slowly to the sofa. “What happened?” she breathed. “Did you get jumped?”
He ran his hand through his unbound hair. “In a manner of speaking. The guys in the club did this.”
She gasped. “Not because of me?”
“No. It had nothing to do with you.” He patted her leg lightly. “It was club business.”
Oh no. This was not a road they were going down. “Club business,” she repeated carefully. “So basically, what you’re saying is…it’s none of my business.”
His lips thinned.
“I mean, it’s okay to spend the night in your bed. Hell, I can even let myself in your apartment. But I can’t know why you can barely walk, because it’s club business, and I’m only—what’s it called—an old lady.” She shook her head ruefully. “As if I could forget how much respect the title affords.”
Her face flamed with anger. After everything she’d been through in the past twenty-four hours, she felt like someone had pulled her guts out and stomped all over them. All she wanted, all she needed, was to get back inside the little bubble she and Kane had created at his apartment. Only, she knew her wish was unrealistic.
He rubbed his eyes. “It’s not like that.”
She took a deep breath, forcing her raging emotions into check. “Okay.” Deep breath in. Deep breath out. “Tell me what happened.”
His mouth opened, then closed again, indecision dancing across his features.
This was it. The moment of truth. The moment where she would know how tight the club had him in its grip.
A minute passed. Two. Her chest squeezed painfully, and she sank deeper into the cushions of the sofa and closed her eyes. “Just go.” Despite her nap, she was so tired. Maybe she could sleep right here. Sleep until all of this went away.
She was so sure he wasn’t going to answer. When he did, his voice made her jump. “My brother and my father are leading the club into making a major mistake.”
Her eyes flew open.
Kane had his head in his hands. “They’re going to get someone killed.” He looked up, seeking her eyes. “I defied them. I refused an order after the club voted.” He gestured to his face. “This was my punishment.”
Gasping, she sprang forward, examining his injuries with new eyes. “Your own friends did this to you…because you disagreed with them?”
He nodded. “I know how it sounds, but it is club business, and I’m not supposed to talk about it. I also know I don’t really belong there. Not because of the beat-down, but I don’t know. I thought maybe I could make a difference, turn the club into something better or at least keep it from getting worse, but I was living a fantasy. I can’t save anyone who doesn’t want to save themselves.”
Carefully, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “Oh, Kane, I’m sorry.” She really was. Not because he realized he didn’t belong in a motorcycle gang, but because it hurt him to admit it. She was sorry, too, if it meant he had to mourn his friends.
“I’m going to talk to the guys about patching out. It’s going to suck. I’ll probably lose them all. No way around it.” He sounded so desolate.
She wanted so much to find the right words, but she knew how unforgiving their code was. He’d told her himself, years before. “You won’t lose me,” she said gently, and his muscles locked beneath her hands. “You’ll never lose me again, Kane. I’m yours, as long as you want me.”
He held his body rigid for a moment, his eyes blinking rapidly. “Are you sure?” He cleared his throat. “Because I’m not sure my heart can survive breaking again, baby. The last time damn near killed me.”
“You won’t lose me. We need to be honest with each other, though. I ruined things before by thinking I was protecting you. It was the wrong call. We could have faced it together. We’ll do better this time. We’ll learn from my mistake.”
In the somber silence, his stomach let out a growl so loud she could have heard it in the next room. The tips of his ears turned red, and he chuckled self-consciously. “Sorry. Guess I haven’t eaten in a while.”
The reminder about food made her own stomach answer the call with a growl of its own. “How about I make us some dinner?”
He lifted his eyebrows. “You’re offering to cook? The woman who put a boiled egg in the microwave and made it explode?”
“A lot of time has passed since then,” she said primly. “Plus, I took some cooking classes a few years back. You may be surprised to discover what I can do in the kitchen these days.”
“To the contrary.” His face relaxed into a genuine smile. “I’m not surprised by anything you’re able to accomplish. You have it in you to take over the world someday.”
“I don’t need the whole world. Only you, Mike, and the company.” She stood and offered him her hand. “Let’s start with conquering the kitchen.”
He allowed her to lead him to the sink where they both washed their hands. “Okay, Iron Chef, what do we have on the menu?”
She opened the refrigerator door and surveyed the contents. “I’ve got some leftover grilled chicken.” Stepping over to the pantry, she stooped down to examine one of the lower shelves, then triumphantly pulled out a can of artichoke hearts. “Oh, yeah, I know just the thing. If we work together, it can be ready in ten minutes.”
With her goal in sight, she piled ingredients onto the counter: green onions, mushrooms, olive oil, and feta. Then, she turned on a pot of water to boil. “Cutting board is in the drawer in front of you, Hale. Those green onions aren’t going to chop themselves.”
With a small salute, he got to work, chopping the vegetables, while she melted some butter in a pan. Soon, the kitchen filled with the savory scent of sautéed mushrooms.
Kane hummed a song she didn’t recognize while he opened the can of artichoke hearts. The whole thing felt so simple and domestic, like this was their kitchen, and they’d cooked together a million times. Like they had done it before, and it was a given they would do it again. And again. And again.
But would they really? With her father and Nathan and the club all wanting to tear them apart?
He looked up and caught her watching him, but he didn’t call her on it. “You want these in the pan with the other stuff?”
The knot of emotion building in her chest kept her from answering aloud, but her smile and nod were enough. He stepped in beside her at the range and dumped in the drained contents. His nearness was almost a physical caress.
She leaned into him, and he kissed the top of her head. Oh yeah, she could get used to this. “Grab the chicken,” she murmured. “We need to add some too.” Pouring some angel hair into the now bubbling water, she tried to quiet her swelling feelings for the man currently taking up all the air in the room. Though she failed miserably, it wasn’t in her to regret it. The way she felt about Kane was like sunshine warming her from the inside out.
Within five minutes, they’d drained the pasta and tossed it with the chicken, vegetables, and a dressing of olive oil, lemon, and Greek seasoning. He eyed the feta cheese as she carried it to the table. He always used to call it the stinky stuff.
“Don’t worry.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll keep it on the side.”
They ate in companionable silence the first few minutes, their mutual hunger keeping their attention on the food in front of them. It wasn’t until her plate was clean, Amanda took a sip of her wine and leaned back into the chair.
“Dinner was amazing,” Kane announced as he wiped his face with a napkin. “Whoever gave you cooking lessons deserves some kind of medal.”
She balled up her own napkin and tossed it at his head. It flew past his ear as he evaded the projectile. “I like cooking. The class was originally only something to pass the time, but it ended up being more than just another distraction. I needed a lot of those at fi
rst.”
“I get it.” He tried the wine and wrinkled his nose before returning his glass to the table. “My distractions were a little less…constructive…but I did the same thing.”
“You know what I miss?”
“The amazing sex?”
She searched for another napkin to throw but came up empty. “Dancing with you.” One of her favorite memories was Charlie’s Fourth of July party, where they ended the night dancing under the stars to an old Journey song.
“A problem we can easily fix.” He got up and bowed slightly. “May I have this dance?”
Amanda bit her lip. She had the entire album on her phone. With a few swipes of her finger, the opening strains of “Lights” drifted from her small, mounted speakers.
His eyes closed briefly as he took in the music. “You remembered.”
She took his hand. “I’ll never forget.”
Stepping into his arms felt like going back in time. She was reliving one of her best memories, but now it was even better. It meant more because this time she knew to savor it. Even if they only had this night, she would treasure every second. Resting her head on his chest, she breathed in his familiar scent. She reveled in the feel of his strong arms around her.
They didn’t do much more than sway; they never had, but it was a thousand times more satisfying than the perfect waltz her father’s connections loved to show off at their fancy Christmas parties. When he started singing into her hair, she wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor.
As the song ended and another ballad began, she lifted her head.
His eyes were fathomless. “I want to dance with you for the rest of my life.”
When he leaned down to capture her lips, it was so much more than a mere kiss. It was a reassurance, a promise, a claiming.
What started as a gentle brush of his mouth intensified in seconds. His tongue slid in her mouth, and she answered with all the longing and passion she’d suppressed for years. It was perfect, yet she was greedy for more. Nothing would be enough. Forever with this man would not be enough.
She broke the kiss only long enough to lead him to her bedroom. Immediately, she went to work on his clothes, pulling his shirt over his head. This time, she allowed herself the luxury of touching his beautiful skin. Her fingertips ran up his arms, over his wide shoulders, and down over his chest to his puckering nipples.
He held himself still while she explored him, his body pulled taut as a bowstring.
She could see in his face, the exact moment he let himself go, his gaze reflecting hunger and heat.
He had her shirt off in seconds as she worked her pajama pants to the floor. In two strides, he backed her up to her bed and climbed on top of her, blanketing her body with his.
The weight of him felt different, heavier, but she would have known the feel of him anywhere. The way he kissed her neck, the way he worshipped her collarbone as he worked his way down to her breast. He’d refined his technique a little, but it was still classic Kane.
Her hands moved over him with urgent desperation. She needed his pants off, his thick cock driving into her body. The foreplay was sweet torture.
Lifting his hips, he gave her access to the button of his jeans, and once his fly was open, he tugged them down and kicked them off before returning to his ministrations.
He licked and sucked at one nipple while rolling and twisting the other between his fingers. His dick pushed insistently against the thin barrier of her panties.
She groaned and lifted her hips to meet his thrusts. The pressure and the friction only drove her need higher. “Kane, please.”
His head dipped lower, giving her a clear picture where he was going. Yes. Finally, she would feel him where her need pulsed so desperately. But when his face was just inches from her panties, he didn’t take them off as she’d hoped.
Instead, she felt his hot breath over the silky, damp material. Her body quaked as he slid his finger around the elastic, directly inside her. Her muscles clenched around him, grateful for the invasion, but still needy for more.
That’s when he fastened his mouth over her clit. He sucked at her straight through her panties, and her body almost came off the bed. It was amazing; it was masterful; it was pure fucking torture. “Stop teasing me,” she cried.
He looked up, his dark eyes hooded. “You always liked my mouth on you before.”
“Later,” she pleaded, reaching blindly for her nightstand. When her hand found the foil packet she was looking for, she held it out to him. “I want all of you. Don’t make us wait any more.”
With a growl, he ripped the side of her panties, revealing her to him completely. “Just one taste,” he gritted, before delving back between her legs. His tongue swept a path over her core up to her now-aching clit. Then he pulled the condom from her hand and covered himself with practiced ease.
Before she could dwell on how many times he’d done the same with countless other women, he plunged inside her with one stroke. As wet and wanting as she was, her body offered no resistance. She cried out with the rightness of it.
For a moment, Kane’s eyes went hooded. He stopped moving entirely, his dick seated fully inside of her. “You’re perfect,” he whispered. Then his body let loose.
His hips pistoned, and he drove inside her with an almost frenzied pace. It was unmeasured, unrefined, and his lack of control only drove her higher. His hands touched her everywhere, as if he was starving, and she was a feast. But the best part, along with his recklessness and needfulness, came reverence and worship. He never stopped telling her how beautiful she was, how good she felt, how his dreams were coming true.
The last exaltation drove her to the edge. His weren’t the only dreams coming true. Kane was here, in her bed, and though he hadn’t said the words, he loved her. She knew it in her bones. With the gift of the knowledge in her heart, and his thumb working in tandem with his dick between her legs, her body crested in a shattering release.
His orgasm followed a heartbeat behind with a roar of her name. He didn’t pull out when he was done but levered the top half of his body onto his elbows and gazed into her eyes. His stare never wavered as his heavy breaths slowed into their natural rhythm. Finally, he rolled to his back, pulling her into his arms.
There was no need to talk for a while. She lay in the comfort of his embrace, listening to his heart beat in his chest. She never wanted to move.
He spoke first. “I told myself it wasn’t as good as I remembered.” He shifted slightly so he could pet her hair. “I convinced myself I’d built you up in my head so much, no one else could ever compete. I mean, if it was really perfect with you, how could I—what chance did I have to ever be happy again?”
His words could have come from her own mouth. For years, she’d tried to lie to herself too. “It’s so good because we were always supposed to be together. Anyone else, in my life at least, was only a placeholder. For a while, I pretended they were you. Eventually, it just hurt more, so I tried to pretend you never existed.” She kissed his warm skin beneath her cheek. “Which was an even bigger failure. In the end, I was going through the motions, but really I’d just given up.”
“Is that what you were doing with the guy who hurt you? Going through the motions?” He kept his voice tightly controlled.
She didn’t want to talk about Nathan, but she had promised him honesty barely a couple of hours ago, and she’d meant what she said. “Nathan was a business arrangement with my father.” Wow, it sounded even worse when she said it out loud. “I asked my father for a loan to help out with the company. He offered me the money free and clear if I would be Nathan’s armpiece for six months.”
“Why?”
She sighed. “Because he’s politically connected, and my father wants to be governor. Because my father wanted to get an opening into Nathan’s good graces. Because I needed the money, and I didn’t care if it made me a whore. Like I said, I’d given up, at least on finding someone I could love. And with Nathan, there was
really no chance I’d develop any feelings. It almost made it easier for him to be such a dick; I never felt guilty for the fact I didn’t love him. Who could love someone like him?”
From the corner of her eye, she watched him ball his fist and let it go. “Did he hurt you? When you were together?”
She shifted. “A little. Sometimes. Which is why I told my father I didn’t want anything more to do with him. My six months was up at Thanksgiving. But my dad tried to change the deal; he made me promise to give him four more weeks or he’d withhold the money. I said yes, but I never saw Nathan again until the night I broke up with him. The night you came here and kissed me.”
“He was the person on the phone.”
It wasn’t a question, but she answered him anyway. “Yes. I went there to end things for good, and he saw the beard-burns on my face. It went downhill from there.”
Kane sat up, pulling her with him. “He hurt you that night? Because of me?”
“He wanted to. But I knew it might happen, so I brought a gun.” She couldn’t hold his gaze, dropping her eyes to her lap. “I think he’s been stalking me ever since. I’m hoping the beat-down he got from Evan Ryan takes him down a notch or two.”
“Not good enough.” His eyes burned with fury. “I want to rip his fucking head off.”
She shook her head. “He’ll be waiting for it. You’ll only end up in jail, and I refuse to lose you again, especially because of him. I’m going to clean up my own mess and do it the legal way. I’m going to file a restraining order.”
His fingers found her chin and tilted her face back up. “This is not your fault.”
It was sweet of him to say so. “I don’t know if I agree with you. I opened the door. Nobody forced me. I’m ashamed I let him into my life, but I can’t blame anyone but myself.”
“Blame him. Only a bottom-feeding pussy puts his hands on a woman in anger.”
“Oh, I do, but what I meant—”
“And your father—”