Kane

by Davis, Jen

  “No. There’s no need. You and I can catch up later. Maybe have lunch tomorrow.”

  She paused. “It really can’t wait. Dad, I need to talk to you about the money—”

  “I’ll wire it to your account before close of business,” he said sharply. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m really not feeling well.”

  He disconnected before she could say another word.

  If he was sending the money, it was one less thing to worry about, but she still needed to tell Kane what she’d heard. And she needed to do it fast.

  ***

  Kane

  Brick held up the closet door with hinges hovering over the holes in the frame while Kane knelt down and screwed them in place. Work on the house was moving much faster with a five-man crew. Brick’s strength and construction know-how helped him do the work of two guys, and Cy’s Army buddy was slowly getting up to speed.

  He was glad to have the distraction of work. He was plagued by memories of holding Mandy’s hand at the restaurant, the need in her eyes. He’d shake his thoughts away only to replace them with questions about how he could fix the club and save his brothers from disaster. No answers had presented themselves.

  He grunted as he leaned into the drill. “Any word when Will’s coming back to work?” If anyone would have the skinny, it would be Brick. His fiancé was Will’s sister, after all.

  Brick’s deep voice carried over the electronic whir in his ears. “Probably the first of the new year. The doctors say he’s on track, but the bullet collapsed his lung. He was a lot worse off than I was.” Brick seemed to be no worse for wear after the shot he took to the shoulder. Meanwhile, the guy who pulled the trigger—one of Sucre’s thugs—was resting permanently, six feet under.

  It was no loss. From what he understood, Tre Lowry had been every bit the stain on humanity his boss had been. With the bottom hinge secure, he stood to screw in the top. “Have you spent any time with the new guy?”

  “Evan?” Brick shook his head. “Poor dude is really fucked up. Cy says an IED caused all those burns. Fucking brutal.”

  Brutal barely scratched the surface. Cy’s friend had thick, ropey scars along the left side of his body. They covered his jawline and his neck as well as the top of his left hand. It was hard to tell where else the burns extended beneath his clothes.

  He had never heard Evan speak. It wasn’t clear if the guy couldn’t talk or if he just chose not to. Neither would surprise him. Though to be fair, he hadn’t worked with the man very much. Cy and Matt were showing him the ropes, which had to be interesting since none of the men were what anyone would call talkers.

  “How’s it coming, you guys?”

  Speaking of talkers.

  Robby grinned as he hugged his ever-present clipboard to his chest.

  Brick gave his arm a gentle tap over the long-sleeved Oxford. “Almost finished with the doors. We only have one left. Master closet.” He gestured at the remaining door, leaning against the wall.

  Robby canted his head, his brown bangs falling into his eyes. “Xander says we need to be done here before the end of the month so we can get started on the new development. You think we’re gonna make it?”

  “No sweat.” Brick lifted one shoulder. “All the bones are in place. Cabinet guys are coming tomorrow. Electricians and plumbers are putting in their fixtures at the beginning of next week. We’ll be done by Christmas.”

  Robby bounced on the balls of his feet. “You’ll be in your new house by then, right?”

  “Yep. We close next week. Which reminds me, Olivia wanted me to invite all of you to the new place to have Christmas dinner with us. She—we—want—” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then shook his head ruefully. “We want to celebrate with our family.”

  Kane warmed at Brick’s reluctant admission. Celebrating Christmas with family would be a first for him too.

  Robby was out-and-out beaming. “Of course, we’ll be there, right Kane?”

  “Sure, kid.” He chuckled.

  Brick shot Robby a sly look. “Why don’t you go extend the invitation to Matt and the other guys?”

  Robby’s cheeks pinked, but he wasted no time bounding out the door in search of the object of his affection.

  “You know Matt’s going to figure it out someday, and when he rejects your boy, it’s going to break his heart.” Robby was really growing on him, and he found the idea of his heartbreak…unsettling.

  Brick shrugged. “We can’t help who we fall for, man. You know as well as I do.”

  “You can shove your fortune cookie wisdom right up your ass.” He grimaced at the knowing expression on Brick’s face.

  “What?” his friend asked innocently. “I can’t help it if you can relate to the idea of carrying a torch for someone. Even when it’s a bad idea.” Brick rubbed at his jaw thoughtfully. “On a totally unrelated note, have you seen Amanda Griffin around lately?’

  “Fuck you, brother.” There was no heat in his curse, only grim acceptance. Brick saw right through his protests about Mandy, but it seemed everyone else did too. “Does everybody know?”

  Taking a sip of the Gatorade he had pulled from the ice chest near the wall, Brick looked up at the ceiling, clearly weighing his words. He swallowed, then sighed. “Yeah. But nobody is judging you about it. We’ve all got soft spots that hurt when you poke ‘em. She’s yours. No shame there.”

  Kane’s phone buzzed, saving him from having to find an answer.

  “Speak of the devil,” he murmured.

  A text lit his screen.

  I need to talk to you. It’s important. Meet me at my apartment.

  -A

  No address, but then again, he knew exactly where she lived. He knew what kind of car she drove. What men she attended events with, splashed across the online society pages. Not that he ever Googled her.

  He shoved his phone back in his pocket. “I’ve got to go. You cool to finish up here?”

  “Yeah. No problem.” Brick grabbed his arm, then let it go. “You call me if you need anything.”

  He was out the door and on his bike before he realized he hadn’t even answered his friend. Mandy called, he came running. She was his soft-spot all right.

  His first love. His only love.

  The only woman who made his heart race, his blood boil.

  Even after all these years, he still treasured the memories of every kiss, every touch, and the promise of a future they never ended up having.

  ***

  13 years ago

  July

  Kane flitted a nervous glance around the room he’d rented at the Hampton Inn. It was nicer than anywhere he’d ever slept before, and he’d skipped lunch every day for a month to save up the money to pay for it.

  No doubt Mandy had slept in better places. Hell, her room at her dad’s house was probably classier than this, but deep down he knew she wouldn’t care. She’d never judged him for how much money he had or what he could spend on her. Still, he wanted to give her the best of everything. She deserved all the finest things, and one day, when he was a successful investment banker, he’d give them all to her.

  Tonight, he’d have to settle for the king-sized bed he had covered in rose petals, soft music from a playlist on his iPod, and a bottle of white zinfandel. He didn’t know anything about wine, but the lady at the store had told him it was good.

  “Can I open my eyes now?” Mandy squeezed his hand, pulling him back into the moment.

  He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers, breathing in the subtle smell of lavender. She hummed softly against him.

  Taking a step back, he moved out of her line of sight. “Yes.”

  Her eyes flew open, and she took in the scene. She blinked rapidly.

  Dread pooled in his stomach.

  Had he read her wrong? Was it too soon?

  Obviously, she had to have some idea where they were when he’d led her through the lobby and into the elevator, even with her eyes closed, but still, maybe his attempts a
t a romantic set-up were a bust. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, sweetheart. I would be happy to just spend the night with you in my arms.” The sad thing was, he meant every word.

  “Are you kidding? This is perfect. I love it.” She bit her bottom lip. “Did you bring—”

  “Condoms?” He grinned. “Two boxes.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “My, aren’t we ambitious? What happened to just spending the night with me in your arms?”

  His smile dimmed. “Of course. I mean—”

  Mandy’s laugh was husky as she closed the distance between them. “I’m teasing you.” She kissed his throat, right above the neckline of his T-shirt, and he shivered beneath the soft press of her lips. “I want to make love with you.” Her hands traveled up the outside of his arms. “I’ve been thinking about it for weeks.”

  With one kiss and a feather-light touch, she already had his dick standing at full attention. “Weeks?” he croaked.

  “Mm-hmm.” Her delicate hands slid over his shoulders, then her fingers moved down to trace his collarbone. “I want to see you.” She pulled on his shirt. “Take this off.”

  Like a randy schoolboy, he couldn’t move fast enough. He scrambled to pull his T-shirt over his head. His nipples pebbled in the chilled air-conditioned room.

  Mandy’s fingers moved straight to them, gliding over their peaks in small, circular movements. Her eyes flashed as she watched her hands glide down his torso, over the trail of hair beneath his navel, to the buckle of his belt.

  “I want to see everything,” she whispered. Her gaze flashed up to his.

  Was she asking permission?

  He gave it to her with a quick jerk of his head.

  His Mandy didn’t waste one second. She had his belt unbuckled and his fly open in a heartbeat. Tugging his pants down to his thighs, she freed his erection, and it strained to get closer to her.

  She tilted her head as she surveyed his eager cock. “I’m not sure it’s going to fit.”

  Mandy was always so self-confident, so poised and perfect, it was easy to forget she was a virgin. No, not to forget her virginity, but to forget she might be nervous or unsure. God knew, if she ever was, she never showed it.

  She stepped toward him, taking his shaft in her hands. “I’ve dreamed about it. What it would be like to feel you inside me.” She put her lips against his ear. “I ordered a dildo online.”

  His dick jumped, and suddenly his mind was filled with the filthiest images imaginable of her pleasuring herself with his name on her lips.

  “It’s supposed to look like the real thing.” Her tongue grazed his lobe; her breath was hot and damp. “But it’s not like yours. You feel different in my hands.” She squeezed him. “Show me how different you feel between my legs.”

  “You play dirty,” he growled, then kicked off his shoes and tossed the rest of his clothing onto the floor. He palmed her between her legs and squeezed over the thick denim of her jeans.

  She closed her eyes long enough to moan softly.

  “You like it, huh?” He rubbed roughly over her pussy, and her breath shuddered. She looked like a fucking goddess with her eyes glazed and mouth slightly open in pleasure.

  If he didn’t get inside her soon, he was going to come right here in front of the mini-fridge and microwave.

  He tore at the button of her jeans, and she scrambled to help him get her undressed. He needed her too much to have any finesse.

  Thank God, she seemed every bit as hungry for him.

  She lunged toward him, their mouths crashing together, tongues sliding over each other in frantic motion. They’d kissed dozens of times in the three months they’d been together, but this was different. This kiss consumed him.

  His arms around her waist pulled her closer; the feel of her skin against his electrified him. It was everything, and still not enough. Fueled by adrenaline and need, he lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around him. Their mouths still locked together, he carried her the short distance to the bed and lowered her body to the soft petals he’d scattered with care.

  The last thing he wanted to do was to pull back, but he hadn’t seen her yet. Not really. And goddamn, she was a revelation.

  Her porcelain skin…her tight peach nipples…and the smooth, perfect surface of bare skin between her legs. His mouth watered.

  “Kane,” she whispered. “Please.”

  He wanted to do everything. Touch her everywhere. He didn’t even know where to begin.

  She rubbed her thighs together restlessly.

  Never mind. He knew exactly where to begin.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said hoarsely. Climbing onto the bed, he pulled those perfect, pale thighs apart and zeroed in straight to the place where he wanted to be the most.

  She tried to bring her knees together, but he wouldn’t be denied. He pulled them apart again and brought his mouth to the heart of her sex. The scent of her arousal intoxicated him. He flattened his tongue and swept it up between her glistening pink lips.

  She squirmed beneath him, but he slid his arms under her thighs and clamped his hands over her hips to keep her still. And open to him.

  He had to taste more of her. He licked over her slit again. And again. Each time, he drove his tongue deeper. Her taste consumed him as she grew wetter against his mouth. One of his hands released her hip to tease at her opening.

  Mandy lifted her hips in a wordless plea, and he gave her what she wanted. He plunged his middle finger inside of her as his tongue swirled her clit.

  She moaned, and it only pushed him harder. A second finger joined the first, and as he fucked her with his hand, she met every thrust with a swivel of her hips. He replaced his tongue with the flat of his thumb and let her ride out her own pleasure until he felt her walls pulsing beneath his hand.

  Heart pounding, he grabbed one of the foil packets he’d stocked on the nightstand and ripped it open. He rolled on the condom and was inside her so fast, her pussy was still contracting around him. “Fuck,” he gritted out. Nothing had ever felt so good.

  He tried to move slowly. He really did, but she was so wet and hot, and her hands gripped his ass, urging him to drive into her faster. Harder.

  When the orgasm finally crashed over him, an electric current of pleasure shot through his body. He went rigid. His toes fucking curled, and it was the most singularly perfect moment of his entire life.

  Mandy released the hold she had on his cheeks, and he rolled to his back, keeping her in the cage of his arms.

  Only then did his actions catch up with him. He’d intended to take things slowly. To take her virginity gently and with care. He was the worst kind of asshole.

  He ran his hand over her beautiful red hair. “Are you okay? Was I too rough?”

  She sniffed.

  Shit. Was she crying?

  She sniffed again, and it turned into a giggle.

  Wait. Was she—“Are you laughing?”

  Her giggles gave way to full-on laughter.

  He sat up. “Are you seriously laughing at me right now?”

  “No.” She stopped laughing, but a wide smile still lit her face as she faced him. “I’m laughing because I’m happy.” Her soft, smooth hand caressed his cheek. “I’m laughing because this was perfect. You are perfect.”

  She leaned toward him, touching her forehead to his. “I’m happy, Kane. And I love you.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Kane

  Mandy’s condo was part of a five-story building on the very edge of downtown. The exterior was rust colored on the bottom floor, but the color yielded to a shade more like sand above the second level. At least half of the façade was glass, though.

  Mandy always did like a sunny day. She probably kept the shades open all the time.

  How many times had he looked at her to find her eyes closed, head tilted back, absorbing the sunlight? But those images were from another life. Another version of her, which had probably been dead for years, if it had ever rea
lly existed in the first place.

  He shut down the memories of a fall afternoon at the corn maze where they’d intentionally gotten lost for hours. The Mandy with the bright eyes and open heart wasn’t the one who had summoned him here.

  The doorman shot him an appraising look, and Kane steeled himself for an argument. Even a child could see he didn’t belong in a place like this.

  “Mr. Hale?” the man asked smoothly, then opened the door without waiting for an answer.

  He blinked, standing frozen for a moment before stepping over the threshold. The buttoned-up older man escorted him to the elevator and waved an electronic keycard over a sensor at the elevator. The doors parted immediately.

  “Fourth floor,” the doorman said solemnly. “Second door to your right, sir.”

  What the hell? Was he supposed to tip this guy? His experience with doormen was admittedly limited.

  When the man gestured him into the lift with a blank expression on his face, he took it as an answer and stepped inside. As the doors closed in front of him, the shiny metal reflected his image back to him. Strands of his dark hair had escaped his low ponytail and fell into his face. His beard was getting long, hanging at least an inch or two below his chin; it was scraggly, in no way shaped, and it did nothing to mask the shiny scar bisecting his left cheek.

  He diverted his eyes, knowing exactly what others would see. Shitkickers on his feet, jeans, and T-shirt covered by an unbuttoned heavy flannel, the sleeves rolled to his elbow to reveal a portion of the tattoos climbing both arms.

  Mandy had obviously warned the doorman, or the poor old bastard would have probably had a heart attack when he approached the building. It was a reaction he was used to, at least among civilized folks.

  A dainty chime sounded when he reached Mandy’s floor. The doors opened soundlessly to reveal a relatively short hallway with hardwood floors. There were only three doors on either side. Smooth beige walls filled the space between them.