Reforming Kent: A Stand-Alone Angsty Bad Boy Romance (The Kennedy Boys Book 10)

by Siobhan Davis

  ***

  “Kent.” Presley rolls over in the bed later that night, curling into my side.

  I put my book down, giving her my undivided attention. “Yes, babe?”

  She rests her soft hands on my chest. “Thank you for everything.”

  I sweep hair back off her face. “You don’t have to thank me. I love you, and I’m here for you.” I want to add always, but that’s subjective. She could still kick my ass to the curb, and I wouldn’t fight her because I deserve it. I can spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to her, and it still won’t be enough. I know that.

  “I know I’ve shut myself off, and I’m so grateful you let me be, but I’m going to try harder. I don’t want to wallow in grief, not when I’ve been doing well finally confronting it. The best way I can honor Tillie and Chris is to live my best life.” She chews on the corner of her mouth, her finger idly drawing circles on my chest. “Just be patient with me,” she says, staring straight into my eyes. “Because I can’t promise I won’t have more bad days. But I’m ready to live again.”

  I kiss her lips. “I can be patient for as long as you need me to be, and there is no rush. Rafe said you can take as much time as you need. Why don’t you wait until you’ve spoken with Jenna?” I relayed Imogen’s message earlier, and she is attending an appointment with Presley on Wednesday morning.

  She nods before propping up on one elbow, smiling at me with a certain glint in her eye. Her hair cascades over one shoulder with the motion, and she slides one leg over mine. My dick springs to life at that small touch because my body has missed the hell out of her. “I just need one other thing,” she purrs, her voice dropping an octave. Her hand moves from my chest, down along my abs, and her fingers explore all the dips and curves of my stomach. My cock is a solid block of wood behind my sleep pants now, and there’s no way she’s not noticed because it’s jutting up proud and tall, almost saluting her.

  “Anything,” I croak, trying to temper my excitement in case I’m reading the signals wrong.

  Leaning down, she licks at the seam of my lips, and precum seeps from my erection. “Make love to me,” she whispers before claiming my lips in a soft but passionate kiss.

  My fingers wind through her hair until I reach the nape of her neck. Holding her in place, I return her kisses, exploring her mouth with my tongue in a slow, unhurried fashion. If she needs me to make love to her, I will show her I’m capable of slowing things down and worshiping her like the goddess she is.

  We undress one another in between kisses, and our hands explore our bodies as if it’s the first time we’ve done this. In a way, I suppose it is because I’ve never been this gentle with her. Rolling her onto her back, I hover over her as I adore every inch of her skin with my fingers, my lips, and my tongue. Nudging her thighs apart, I lick her slit in slow, tantalizing sweeps of my tongue, my fingers tenderly probing the heat between her legs while my thumb gently rubs that sensitive bundle of nerves. I keep my eyes on her face as I continue loving her, drowning in awe when she comes apart before me, her juices coating my fingers and my tongue.

  She sits up, pulling me up to her so she can kiss me and taste herself on my lips. Then she rolls a condom over my straining cock while stroking every inch of my body in soft caresses that imprint on my heart.

  We reposition ourselves so we’re lying flat on the bed with her underneath me. We maintain eye contact as I push inside her at a leisurely pace, taking my time inching into her warmth. Our hands intertwine above her head as I start moving. I deliberately slow my thrusts, moving in and out of her with infinite care, in a way I have never experienced before.

  I feel everything.

  The worshipful way her tight walls hug my dick as I glide in and out of her body.

  The warmth of her fingers pressed against mine.

  The softness of her lips as our mouths fuse together while our bodies rock in perfect sync.

  An outpouring of love so strong as we stare at one another like this is the only thing that matters. This intense connection that pumps blood through my veins keeps my heart beating and fills my soul with everything that is good and light.

  “Kent,” she whispers, tears filling her eyes.

  “I know, baby.” I lean down and kiss her, savoring every second of our joining, committing every moment of this to memory because I never want to forget what this feels like.

  Forever.

  “I love you,” she says as tears spill out of her eyes.

  “I love you too,” I whisper, my vision turning blurry.

  “God, this is everything,” she whimpers as we continue gently thrusting against one another, content to wallow in these languid, heavenly sensations without frantically chasing that ultimate high.

  “You’re everything, Pres.” I squeeze her fingers. “And things are going to be fine because you and I are meant to be together. We were meant to spend our lives together, and I am going to do everything to make sure that happens.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Presley

  “Are you sure you’re okay to come back so soon?” Ford asks me on Thursday when I show up at five for my shift.

  I dart forward, kissing his cheek. “I’m good. Thank you for caring. It means a lot to me.”

  “You’re my friend. Of course, I care.”

  “I’m lucky I have you and Mo and Kent and his family.” I truly am because the people I’ve had to rely on in the past have been a small group. Now Chris is gone, and Clay is AWOL, and my anger has transformed to worry that something has happened to him. “Hey,” I add before he leaves the bar. “Could you do me a favor? Could you ask around about Clay? I haven’t heard from him in months, and I’m worried.”

  He rubs the back of his head, averting his eyes, and I stalk toward him, forcing his face to mine. “Out with it.”

  “I asked around after Chris, you know…”

  I nod because it’s still hard to say the word.

  “I knew you’d need Clay. He’s still on business in New York.” A muscle clenches in his jaw.

  “Your intel is legit?” He nods, and my anger returns full steam. “I am so freaking mad at him. I can’t believe he hasn’t called me back and that he didn’t show up for Chris.” It’s unforgivable. I don’t care they hadn’t spoken in recent times. For years, it was just the three of us, and Chris deserved better.

  “Word on the street is they are brokering this big alliance with some notorious New York gang and Clay is The Vipers’ main negotiator. I’m sure he would’ve been here if he could.”

  I plant my hands on my hips, narrowing my eyes. “Is that what you really think?”

  He sighs. “You know it’s not. I just don’t want to upset you.”

  “I appreciate the gesture, but I’m already pissed at him.”

  “I’m pissed on your behalf. He’s the closest thing you have to a fucking brother, and he couldn’t find five fucking minutes to call you? He’s got to know how this would affect you. He’d better have a real good fucking explanation for abandoning you.”

  “Wow, that’s a lot of fucks. You’re really mad.”

  “I am. If anyone fucks with you, they have me to answer to.”

  I hug him, my heart bursting with love for my friend.

  “Don’t let Kennedy hear you say that,” Mo teases, emerging from the staff room. We indulge in a quick hug. “He considers it his job now.”

  “I never thought I’d say this, but I like him,” Ford says, smiling at me. “He really cares about you.”

  “He does, and I feel the same way about him,” I admit.

  “Then why won’t you move in with him?” Mo asks. “Officially,” she adds, using little air quotes. “I mean, you already have a key, and you practically live there most of the time, and his place is fucking huge and so beautiful. Girl, if it was me, I’d have been moved in the very next day.”

  “I have my reasons.” Although, they seem less important now. I wanted to hold on to my apartment to assert m
y independence, but Mo is right. I stay with Kent most nights, and now that I’ve asked Rafe if I can cut my shifts in half, because I want to focus on growing my side business, it doesn’t make sense to hold on to my place.

  Plus, if I’m honest, my apartment reminds me too much of Chris, and he’s gone now. It’s time to leave the past in the past and move forward. Kent promised he would go to therapy and get clean, and I intend to follow up on that now. I know he pushed it aside to take care of me, but I need to nudge him in the right direction, and moving in should give him that extra incentive to confront his fears and deal with it.

  I still don’t have the facts, but I know enough to know this will not be easy for Kent. I want to be there, every step of the way, to support him and help him do this. I can’t do that if I’m nearly an hour away.

  “Earth to Presley baby,” Mo says, clicking her fingers in my face. She’s taken to calling me that lately, loving to tease me about my boyfriend.

  “You’re right.” I grin at her, pulling my cell out of my purse. “I’m doing it. I’m going to officially move in.

  Kent

  Nerves fire at me as I stand outside Mrs. Douglas’s brownstone, wondering if I should have found a therapist by myself. I asked Selena to meet me here at a time when her mom, Sandrine, wouldn’t be at home because I need privacy for this conversation. I could’ve asked her to meet me at my apartment, but I didn’t want to risk one of my brothers showing up. I’m nowhere near ready to explain things to my family. Besides, Sel had a meeting in the city today, so this location works better. Before I knock on the door, my cell vibrates with a new message. I open it up, and my smile grows wider as I read Presley’s message.

  “Good news?” Selena asks, and I almost drop my cell.

  My heart careens around my chest in sudden panic. “Shit, Sel. You’re like a freaking ghost. I never even heard you open the door.”

  She smiles, stepping aside to let me enter her family home.

  “It’s good to see you so happy,” she says, closing the door behind me. “You deserve it so much.”

  “Presley just agreed to move in with me,” I tell her, needing to share the good news with someone.

  Little lines pucker her brow. “I thought she was already living with you?”

  I follow her into the large living room, sinking onto one of the couches. “Mostly, but she still has stuff at her place, and she still stayed there some nights. Now, it’s official, and she’s agreed to fully move in. She’s just given notice to her landlord.”

  Selena sits on the couch across from me, with only the coffee table separating us. A tray with a large glass jug, two glasses, some cookies, and fresh fruit rests atop the table. “That’s great.” Selena’s genuine smile confirms what I already know. Keanu’s wife is naturally sweet and compassionate, and it’s the simple things that make her happy. Like her cranky-ass brother-in-law finding a strong, courageous, gorgeous woman to put up with said cranky ass. “I adore her, and she’s perfect for you.”

  “She really likes you too.” I love that Presley gets along with my family but especially Selena and Eva because they are both special to me.

  “So, why did you want to meet?” she asks, getting straight to it.

  My stomach dips to my feet as nerves flood my system again. Sitting up straighter, I wipe my clammy hands down the front of my pants. I came straight here from work, so I’m still in my suit.

  Selena pours homemade lemonade into two glasses while she waits patiently for me to explain why I asked to meet her alone, in her mother’s house, and not to breathe a word to anyone, especially not my brother—her husband. It’s a tall order, because those two tell each other everything, but I think, instinctually, she knows I need this, and she didn’t argue, readily agreeing to meet me.

  “I want to speak to a therapist, and I thought you might be able to help me with that.” Selena and Keanu are setting up a massive facility that provides a wide range of support services to victims of sexual abuse, and she has vast contacts in this area. I could’ve Googled it, but I would rather see someone who is personally recommended, and there is no one I trust more than Selena.

  She nods, removing a card I hadn’t noticed resting on the arm of the couch until now. She passes it to me. “Denise is my therapist. She’s wonderful, and I think you will like her.” I take the card, looking down at the words. “She doesn’t have a conventional setup, which was important for my recovery, and I get a sense it will be important for yours too.”

  Everything locks up inside me, and my hand shakes. I gulp over the lump in my throat as I lift my head, looking at Selena, seeing nothing but compassion and understanding. “You know?” I croak, fighting the panic swirling inside me.

  “I’ve suspected.” She gets up, coming over to sit beside me. She peers deep into my eyes as she takes my hand in hers. “I see the signs because of what I’ve lived through. I thought, several times, of asking you outright, but I know better than anyone that you can’t force someone to confront things until they are ready. I will never ask you to tell me anything, Kent, but I want you to know I am here if you ever need me to listen. If I can help in any way, you only have to ask.” Tears cling to her lashes. “I see your pain, and it reminds me of my own.”

  “Please tell me it gets easier,” I whisper, clutching her soft hand.

  “It does, but it never fully leaves you, Kent, and it takes a lot of hard work to come through to the other side. But you can compartmentalize it, and you have a solid foundation, a family who loves you, and I believe you are strong enough to deal with it and move forward with your life.” She pauses for a second. “Does Presley know?”

  “Not the details.”

  “To truly, fully confront your fears and move on, you need to tell those you love what happened. When the time is right and you feel strong enough to do it.”

  Panic jumps up and bites me on the ass. “My family can’t know!” It’s one thing to consider telling the girl I love, but my family is way more complicated than that. If she has said anything to my brother, I will die. Pressure sits on my chest, constricting my air supply, and I tug at my tie, loosening my collar, struggling to draw enough air into my lungs.

  “Kent.” She palms one side of my face. “Breathe deeply.” She breathes in and out with me, nice and slow, until I’ve regained my composure. “I haven’t said one word to Keanu,” she adds, knowing what I need to hear. “You know we don’t keep secrets from one another, but I would never breach your trust with something like this. Anyway, up until now, I only had suspicions.” She chews on the corner of her lip, looking unsure.

  “What?”

  “I think Keaton and Keanu have begun to suspect.”

  That shouldn’t surprise me. “Keaton asked me outright a few weeks before the wedding, but I deflected. I should’ve known he would speak to Keanu about it.”

  “Keanu never mentioned it to me. I think he’s concerned it will upset me, but I overheard them talking. I know how scary it is, Kent, and it’s not for me to tell you what to do, but if you were to tell anyone in your family, it should be your triplets.” A single tear seeps from the corner of her eye. “It’s why you reacted so strongly to Keaton and Austen,” she quietly says.

  I nod. “I’m a shitty brother.”

  “No. It’s not your fault, and you’re taking the first step to make things right. I’m proud of you.”

  “You shouldn’t be.” I automatically think of what I did to Presley.

  “I just have one more thing I’d like to say.” She withdraws her hand, lifting my glass and giving it to me, urging me to drink. I guzzle the sweet, refreshing drink while she composes her words.

  “It’s wonderful you have Presley, and I’m sure she is more than willing to support you, but you’ve got to do the heavy lifting by yourself, Kent. I stood behind your brother for years, letting him shelter me, and it was only when I stood on my own two feet and took active steps in my recovery that I began to heal. I’m not saying that is
what you are doing, or will do, but make sure you are not hiding behind her because it will only complicate things and delay your recovery. You have been on your own dealing with this, so I’m glad you have Presley now. You will need her, so don’t push her away. Let her support you, but don’t let her become your crutch or your enabler.”

  I’m sitting in my car at the curb outside Sandrine’s townhouse ten minutes later, tossing the therapist’s card back and forth between my fingers. Selena said Denise knows she might be receiving a call and I can call her anytime because she doesn’t keep regular office hours. Selena’s reassuring words and Presley’s commitment have bolstered my courage, so I stop acting like a pussy and dial her number.

  A few hours later, I’m walking toward Ramshackle with a massive bouquet of flowers in one hand and a palmful of hope in the other. I did it. I called Denise and made an appointment for tomorrow after work. I’m terrified. Like really fucking scared. But I also feel weirdly elated. It feels good to be taking back control of my life, and though I know I have tough times ahead, I feel ready to face the challenges head-on.

  Bugger scoffs at me when I appear in the doorway, and I flip him the bird. The bar isn’t that busy for a Thursday night, and I fight a smirk as I stroll across the room. Imogen said the female clientele has been disappearing in droves since word got out about Presley and I being together, and I wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t a tiny bit smug about that.

  Presley is chatting to some dude at the bar, and she looks angry. She is the only one behind the counter because Ford’s shift ended when hers started. Imogen is out on the floor, taking orders at one of the booths, so no one is watching the altercation between my girl and the mystery dude. I can only see his back since he’s straining across the counter, waving his hands around as he appeals to her. He’s tall and broad, wearing a black leather jacket with some snake emblem on the back. It’s too dark to read the words, but it looks like a gang affiliation jacket.