Beautifully Broken Control

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Beautifully Broken Control Page 19

by Catherine Cowles


  I’d tried to restrict Kennedy to the living room and her bedroom, with one brief hour on the back deck yesterday. But I knew she was getting antsy. “Sure.” I pushed to my feet and reached out a hand to her. She paused for the briefest of moments before slipping her palm into mine. I pulled her to her feet. “Go slow, okay?”

  “I’m not going to try and run a marathon. Just go to the backyard.”

  “All right, smartass.”

  Her lips tipped into a small grin, but she said nothing. The late-afternoon air was pretty much perfect, and I kept Kennedy’s hand in mine as I led her down the steps, across the grass, and onto the dock. I told myself it was in case she lost her footing, but even I didn’t believe the lie. Her hand felt too good to let go of. Too warm and vital and real.

  Kennedy slowly eased herself down onto the dock. The movement was a bit jerky, and I didn’t miss the twist of pain on her face. I wanted to bundle her up and carry her back inside, but it wasn’t what she wanted. She needed this right now, and it was within my power to give it to her.

  She stared out at the sun lowering in the sky, just beginning to paint the horizon with different colors. “It does hurt me that you know.”

  That truth was more of a blow than I thought it would be. That I’d caused her pain. That she wanted to hide from me when I wanted to know everything about her.

  “I just—I—” She let out a long breath. “I want to be known by who I am now. Not who I once was.”

  I laid my hand next to hers on the dock, just my pinky overlapping with hers. I knew she didn’t want my embrace in this moment, but I needed to touch her, to have that point of contact. “I think most people feel that way. But we can’t erase our pasts. They make us who we are. And, often, it’s the ugly parts that lead to the most beauty.”

  “But is the beauty worth all that pain and suffering? And not for me. I would take the pain of losing my family, of knowing the destruction my father caused, over and over again if it meant getting to who I am today. I like that person. But it’s not worth the suffering of all those innocent people.”

  I pressed my palms into the rough wood of the dock, the bite of pain from the planks a welcome distraction. “It’s almost never our choice, though. I know it wasn’t yours. That choice was taken away from you.”

  Kennedy tipped her face towards the sun, closing her eyes for a brief moment. “Jensen said the same thing.”

  “You told her?” I didn’t want to admit to the flare of jealousy that had taken root in my gut.

  “She deserved to know who was working for her, who was living in her space. She deserved the truth. The opportunity to ask me to leave if she wanted to.”

  I blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what Kennedy had just said. “You thought she’d ask you to leave?”

  Kenz turned back to me. “I thought it was a possibility. Come on, Cain, can you honestly tell me if you’d found out the truth about me before you came into the Kettle that first time, that you wouldn’t have encouraged her to kick me to the curb?”

  I winced. She wasn’t wrong, but it was only because I would’ve been looking at it through the wrong filter. Because I looked at everything that way. Identify the potential threat. But Kennedy was showing me that some things were more important. “But I would’ve been wrong. And I would’ve missed out on knowing one of the most incredible women I’ve ever met.”

  Kennedy scoffed. “The most incredible thief, you mean.”

  “Oh, bullshit. You haven’t stolen a damn thing in your life.”

  “You’re wrong.” The fire blazed in her eyes now. “Every five-course meal, five-star vacation, every single thing I was ever given by that man was stolen from someone else.”

  All of the puzzle pieces slipped into place. “You’re punishing yourself.”

  Kennedy reared back as if I’d struck her. “What are you talking about?”

  “Kenz, you work yourself to the bone and have almost nothing to show for it. You never allow yourself a single luxury, not even a damn bottle of Perrier, and give everything you can away.” I pushed on when Kennedy opened her mouth to argue. “Anna told me what you did for that little girl at your dance studio who couldn’t afford classes anymore. I have no idea how you even afford to eat.”

  “I have plenty to show for how hard I work. It might not be private planes and million-dollar mansions, but it’s better than that to me. It’s having self-worth for maybe the first time in my life.”

  I gripped the edge of the dock, trying to keep my temper in check. “I’m fucking thrilled you’ve found that, but is it worth putting yourself at risk? Not even having health insurance? No backup, nothing?”

  “It’s worth everything!” She screamed the words so loudly, it left her chest heaving. “I could barely look at myself in the mirror for an entire year after it happened. Couldn’t bear the sight of my own face. My family hated me, those who’d invested with my father hated anyone associated with my family name, strangers on the street probably wouldn’t have spit on me if I was on fire.” She sucked in air. “I live with so much guilt. The only way it quiets down is when I give more than I take. When I give, and when I’m grateful.”

  God, I knew what it was like to live with guilt, to try and battle that five-ton monster that never seemed to leave you alone. I just had different coping mechanisms than Kennedy. My drug of choice was pushing myself to the point of exhaustion at the gym or work or wherever else I could find that release. So, who was I to judge how Kennedy operated? We were both just trying to cope, to hold on to the little bit of control we could.

  “I get it. More than you know, I get it.” I couldn’t hold back from her any longer. It was as if her soul called to mine in a song only the two of us could recognize. A broken siren’s song. And it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard.

  I slipped my hand under the fall of Kennedy’s hair, sliding my palm up the side of her neck, tipping her head back so I could take her mouth. The move wasn’t as gentle as it should’ve been, but it wasn’t as rough as I wanted it to be either, it was caught somewhere in the middle, just like we were caught between the past and the present.

  Her lips parted on a small gasp, and my tongue slipped in, gliding, teasing, testing, waiting for any hint that she wanted me to stop. It never came.

  29

  Kennedy

  I wanted to commit his taste, his feel to memory. The bite of lime from his earlier drink. The warmth of his tongue teasing mine. The pressure of it all. The hint of desperation. Of need. I didn’t want to forget a single thing.

  He pulled back then rested his forehead against mine, the only sound that of his breathing and my own heartbeat hammering against my chest. I could feel the battle that warred inside him in how he gripped my neck, how he occasionally forced himself to loosen his hold. But I didn’t want that. I wanted him to hold me tighter. I wanted that wildness he tried to lock away.

  I tilted my mouth to his, nipping his bottom lip. Cain groaned. “Take me to bed.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Kenz. The way I’m feeling right now, I could hurt you. You’re just starting to recover and—”

  I pressed a single finger to his lips. “You won’t hurt me. I want this. Do you want to touch me?” I trailed that finger from his lips down the column of his neck and let it dip into the opening of his shirt. I unbuttoned the first button.

  Cain hissed out a breath. “You’re a temptress. You know that? From the second I laid eyes on you, I knew you could undo me.” In a move that took me by surprise, he jumped to his feet, pulling me up with him. My legs wrapped around his waist as he picked me up. The small twinge in my ribs barely registered. He began striding towards the house.

  “I can walk, you know.”

  Cain didn’t meet my gaze. He was singularly focused now. “But then I wouldn’t have your body pressed against mine.”

  That was a good enough argument for me. He jogged up the stairs, pulling the door open and letting it slam beh
ind him. His strides were long, powerful, and the friction they caused had my core tightening. “Hurry,” I breathed.

  His pace quickened. Soon, we were in his room, in front of his massive bed. He slowly lowered me to the floor. My center pressed against the bulge in his shorts as he did so. I couldn’t hold in my moan.

  Cain let out a curse, quickly pulling off his shirt. I took in the sea of bronze skin over tightly honed muscle. So smooth, so tempting. I let a finger trail over his pec, down to the ridges of his stomach. “Off.” He uttered the single word as he pulled my t-shirt over my head. He sucked in a sharp breath. “No bra? You’ve been walking around my house all day with no bra?”

  I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me. “We weren’t going anywhere.”

  He shook his head and cupped my breasts, his thumbs running over my nipples, circling, teasing. They beaded under his touch. Tightened almost to the point of pain. “You’re perfect.”

  I wasn’t. No one was. But I would take that look in his eyes anytime I could get it. One that said he’d never seen anything as beautiful as what lay before him. He sank to his knees, his hands going to my waist. Cain bent forward, trailing his lips lightly along the healing bruises of my side. My body shuddered slightly, but I didn’t say a word. The gesture was so tender, I couldn’t.

  Cain’s fingers slipped into the sides of my sweats, hooking them and my panties, and slowly, oh so slowly, pulling them down. His knuckles skimmed the sides of my legs, sending goosebumps skittering across my skin. He released the material to the floor, guiding one leg to step out and then the other.

  He turned back to me, his face level with the most intimate part of me, but I didn’t squirm or try to hide. This man knew it all now, all the ugly parts of my past, and he wanted me anyway. I wasn’t going to shy away.

  Cain’s hands gripped my thighs. “You’re bare.”

  I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. “Dance. I had to be. Leotards don’t exactly hide much.”

  He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to my pubic bone. “I think I’m going to have to come to one of these dance classes.” Another kiss just a breath lower. “Or maybe I can convince you to give me my own private performance.” Lower still, he inhaled deeply. “You smell so fucking good.”

  Somewhere deep inside me spasmed at his words. Without warning, his tongue flicked out, delving in and circling my clit. I had to grab Cain’s shoulders to steady myself. Sensations rolled through me, waves of tension, and sparks of pleasure. His mouth latched on to the bundle of nerves, and he sucked deep. “Cain.” The word came out as a half-whisper, half-moan.

  It only spurred him on. He alternated sucking with quick flicks using the end of his tongue. I needed more. That something extra to push me over the edge. I needed him. “More.” I couldn’t put my thoughts to words, could only get out that single plea.

  “I’ve got you.” Cain slipped a finger inside me, and I wanted to weep. He stroked me from within, driving me higher and higher until I thought I might burst. His lips latched on to my clit, and when the slightest hint of his teeth grazed those nerves, I went spiraling. My knees began to buckle, but Cain held me up with a single arm, pressing me to his face, wringing every last ounce of pleasure from my body.

  I couldn’t control the shudders, didn’t want to stifle the electric pulses that danced through my muscles. As they eased, Cain lowered me to the bed, his fingers slipping out of me. I watched as he sucked them clean, his eyes flaring. “Never tasted anything so sweet.”

  I lifted a leg, my toes pulling at his shorts. “Off.” I wasn’t nearly done. I wanted to know what it felt like to have him moving inside me. To experience the dance that would be uniquely ours. The way our bodies came together.

  Cain shucked his shorts, his cock springing free and jutting out. He was breathtaking. Just the sight of it had saliva pooling in my mouth. He strode to his nightstand, pulling out a small foil packet. He tore it with his teeth, rolling the rubber over the tip and down his shaft. I’d never thought the sight of putting on a condom could be such a turn-on.

  Cain paused, looking pained. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Trust me, you won’t.” I had enough endorphins running through my system to fight off any pain.

  He studied my face carefully, then sank to the mattress, rolling me on top of him. He lifted me so that I was straddling him, hovering just above where I wanted to be. “Ride me.”

  I wiggled my hips so he would loosen his hold, Cain got the message. I lowered myself, slowly taking him in. Each minuscule movement, stretching and creating a delicious pressure. I moaned as I took all of him. Cain cursed, his hands going back to my hips. I began to rock, small, testing movements that stoked the embers within me back to life.

  I rolled my hips and sucked in a breath as he hit a spot inside me that no one had ever touched before. Cain’s grip on me tightened. “Are you okay?”

  My teeth sank into my bottom lip, and I nodded. I was so much better than okay. I picked up a new rhythm, and Cain’s hips rose to meet me, each of our bodies speaking without words, telling the other what we wanted, what we needed.

  The end of each thrust caused contact that teased my clit, that spike of sensation tightening the cord within me a little tighter each time. Cain’s strokes grew deeper. How, I didn’t know. Hitting that spot inside with each thrust. “Dig deep, baby. Find it. Find it with me.”

  I sucked in a breath as I arched my back, seeking, searching. I found it. My walls clamped down around him as my body shuddered. As Cain thrust up, so damn deep, I knew it was a claim. I rode out the waves of trembles and sparks of pleasure, not wanting to miss a thing. And Cain rode it out with me until I stilled, collapsing onto his chest, heaving.

  His fingertips trailed up and down the ridges of my spine. I relaxed into him. “Not sure I’ll ever recover from that.”

  Cain chuckled, the action causing my core to tighten. “Fuck. You’re going to kill me, woman.”

  I laughed. “It’d be a hell of a way to go, though.”

  “That it would.” He pressed his lips to my temple. “I have to get rid of this condom.” Cain eased me off him, and I rolled to my back, wincing a bit at the loss of him.

  Cain was back in a matter of seconds, pulling back the covers and ushering me under. As soon as I obeyed, he pulled me to him so that I was lying on my unbruised side, head resting on his pec. “Do you feel okay?”

  I let out a bark of laughter. “I feel like a noodle.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “Oh, it is definitely a good thing.”

  Cain ran his hands through my hair. “Glad to hear it.” He paused for a moment. “This changes things. You know that, right?”

  “How so?”

  The smooth strokes of his fingers through my hair took a stutter-step. “This thing between us, we’re going to explore it.”

  I tilted my head back so I could see Cain’s face, those beautiful, storm-blue eyes. “Are we now?”

  “We are.”

  My lips twitched. “Is that your way of asking me to be your girlfriend? Are we going steady?”

  Cain scowled. “I’m not fifteen.”

  “Aw, shucks. I was hoping for your Varsity letterman’s jacket.”

  Cain shook his head. “Do I need to fuck you again? You have entirely too much sass for someone who just had two orgasms.”

  I grinned. “Give a girl a second to catch her breath, would you?” I laid my head back on his chest. “Did you play sports in high school?”

  Cain’s body locked under mine as his hand froze in my hair. The fingers began moving again. “Nope. Not really an organized sports kind of person.”

  “What kind of person were you?”

  The tension in Cain’s muscles wasn’t going away. “Just not into a lot of group activities.”

  Something about this was all wrong. It wasn’t like I was asking for state secrets, just a glimpse of who Cain had been at fifteen. I risked a push. “What were you
into, then?”

  “Nothing, really. Just your average high school guy stuff, I guess.”

  It was a brush-off, and I knew it. I had laid myself bare for this man. Physically, emotionally. And he couldn’t even tell me what his hobbies were. As my mind ran through the time I’d known him, I realized something. Cain only shared personal tidbits on his terms. What I knew about him would barely fill two pages in a notebook.

  He knew everything about me, but I knew almost nothing about him. But, somehow, it felt like my soul recognized his. Was that a lie? My brain tricking itself because there was burning chemistry between us?

  No. I knew him. Enough of him, anyway. I’d seen the kindness in him when he played with Lizzie. The generosity of his spirit in everything he gave away. The protectiveness in how he cared for the people who were important to him. I knew the important things. But I’d thought I knew the important things about people in my life before. People I loved. And in a blink of an eye, they’d turned into strangers capable of destroying everything we held between us.

  30

  Cain

  Kennedy let out a little moan as she stretched, her perfect backside pressing against me. “Careful,” I warned, palming a breast in my hand. “You might not be ready for what that action could bring.”

  She turned her head to look up at me, her eyes executing a slow, sleepy blink. “Morning.”

  “Morning, baby.” I swept my lips across hers, but she pulled back. I scowled.

  “Morning breath.”

  I didn’t give a fuck about morning breath. I wanted her lips. Having a taste of her had only made the cravings worse. I dove in, taking her mouth with no apologies. Slipping my tongue inside, stroking, teasing, demanding. When I released Kennedy, she looked a little dazed. “How’s that for morning breath?”

  She grinned. “I guess I don’t mind it so much, after all.”

  “Good.” I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “What do you want to do today? More Murder, She Wrote, or are you going to cheat your way to victory in Monopoly again?”

 

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