Keegan (Wounded Hero Book 1)

by Marysol James

  “You – what?” she squeaked.

  “I said put those hot little lips together and listen.”

  She did as she was told.

  “Third, I truly don’t care what you did to pay the bills in L.A. I do care about your crappy childhood and I definitely care about you buildin’ a whole new life all over again. I told you that I can’t take your journey for you, but I can walk next to you and hold your hand while you take it. That ain’t changed for me, sugar.”

  She stared at him, tears in her eyes. He could tell that she was struggling to believe him, struggling to have some faith in someone. Keegan knew that for Trish – someone who’d had the childhood that she’d had, someone who’d come out of her corner fighting like hell when many others would have waved the white flag of surrender – letting her guard down and letting someone else in would be one of the hardest damn things to ask her to do.

  “Finally, I’m real sorry that you’re afraid of bein’ recognized,” he said. “That must be hard to live with and I can now see some stuff in a different light, like why you looked around the restaurant last night like you were tryin’ to hide. I hate that you’re ashamed or embarrassed about choices you’ve made, but I’m the same way, God knows, just for different reasons. I think everyone feels that way about somethin’. So I’m really pissed that you think that just because you were in porn, you think that I’m – what? Gonna judge you? Reject you? Throw you out of my house?”

  “Yes,” she muttered. “I thought – I don’t think I’m good enough for you.”

  “And you’re fuckin’ wrong,” he said. “You’re beautiful, funny, sweet and good-hearted – and one hell of a dancer and baking assistant.”

  Trish laughed now. “Yeah?”

  “Hell, yeah.” He approached her now, carefully reached out to trace the curve of her lips. “I told you that honesty is the sexiest fuckin’ thing that I can think of.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “You’ve told me that twice before.”

  “And now I’m tellin’ you one more time: when you’re honest with me, it’s the ultimate turn-on. I ain’t expectin’ you to tell me everythin’ about your life all in one go, and I get that we both still have stuff that we’re keepin’ to ourselves, but the fact that you’re honest is the biggest reason that I’m with you. I can only imagine how hard it must have been for you to tell me the truth about your parents and about L.A., but you’ve got guts, baby, through and through. Don’t ever be afraid to tell me the truth about you because when you do, you’re bein’ honest. That unflinchin’, beautiful honesty, that’s why I keep comin’ back to you and spendin’ time with you.”

  “It is?”

  “It is.” He gave her a slow, sexy grin. “I mean, the packagin’ ain’t bad at all, that’s for damn sure – but I’m way more interested in what’s goin’ on inside all that gorgeousness. I’m into you, Trish and the fact that you’ve had one hell of a hard life makes me sad for the kid that you were, and so proud of the woman that you’ve become. That you’re still becomin’.”

  “You are?”

  “I am. You’ve pulled a whole new damn life out of the wreckage of a past one. I know a little bit about doin’ that, but I did it with lots of help. You did it on your own. You think I don’t find that amazin’?”

  “I didn’t –” Her voice broke. “I never thought about it that way.”

  “Well start thinkin’ about it that way, baby, ‘cause that’s the way that it is. No more droppin’ truths on me and then takin’ off.” He glared down at her and her heart jumped: God, he was so damn sexy when he was glowering like this. “Now, are you leavin’ or are you stayin’?”

  “I’m – I’m staying.”

  “Good. ‘Cause we gotta finish the topping for this cake and then put it in the fridge for about ninety minutes to bind together properly. Then we can eat it.”

  “We have to wait that long?” she whined jokingly. “I want some nooooow.”

  “Yep we wait, but it’ll be worth it, believe me.”

  “I believe you,” she said as she followed him back to the kitchen. “Oh, by the way… Meredith made me promise to bring some cake back, though.”

  “They’ll be plenty to satisfy her sweet tooth.” He nodded at the golden-brown scraps. “OK so throw some of those into the food processor and grind ‘em up until they look like sand.”

  “Putting me back to work, huh?” she said pertly, feeling relaxed and happy again. “Making me earn my keep?”

  “Nah, darlin’. You’ve more than earned your keep in this life. This is just about makin’ a honey cake.”

  **

  Twenty minutes later, Keegan slid the cake carefully into the fridge. He shut the door and looked over at Trish, who was leaning on the wiped-down and spotless island.

  “OK,” he said. “That’s done. Cake in ninety minutes or so.”

  “That’s sooo long,” she said plaintively. “What are we going to do for a whole hour-and-a-half to distract me from honey cake?”

  “Huh.” He cocked his dark head at her, nailed her in place with those eyes. “I dunno. You got any suggestions?”

  “Well.” She smiled at him and his heart squeezed at her luminous beauty, all blonde and purple. “I guess it has to be something sweet, right? To take the place of the cake that I can’t have yet?”

  “You mean a substitute?” he asked, totally amused and charmed by her. “Like what?”

  “I dunno,” she echoed his words. “You’re the sweet stuff expert, honey cake. Surprise me.”

  “Oh, I can do that, sugar.”

  Without another word, he crossed the kitchen in three long strides. She gave a little squeal as he took her in his arms and kissed her, bending her backwards as he did. Her hair brushed the counter space behind her and she gasped when he lifted her clear off the floor and set her down on the island. Without any thought at all, her legs opened to make room for Keegan as he pushed against her, pushed well into her space.

  He lifted his mouth from hers and muttered, “This OK with you, baby?”

  “Yes,” she whispered back, the word hot against his skin. “Definitely OK.”

  His left hand cupped the back of her neck now, his strong forearm running the length of her slim back and supporting her trembling frame, his right hand slipping between her splayed legs. Trish held her breath – it was like her body just forgot to keep sucking in air – as his large fingers stroked her right knee, then slowly moved up her leg.

  “How ‘bout this?” he breathed softly, his hand reaching the apex of her thighs. “Is this OK?”

  “Yes,” she said, the word coming out on a moan as she arched, pressing herself into his touch. “Oh God… yes.”

  “You sure now?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “OK,” he murmured. “So I’ll just carry on then?”

  “That’d be best, I think.”

  “Do you now?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “As you wish, darlin’. Carryin’ on.”

  “Less talking,” Trish said pertly. “More carrying on.”

  “So it’s gonna be like that, huh?” Keegan tightened his grip on her neck, reminding her who was in charge now, and lowered his mouth close to hers – close enough for her to feel his breath brushing her skin, but not touching her. “How 'bout this, baby: you stay quiet until I say so. Not one more word or sound, or I stop touchin’ you here and now. Clear?”

  Trish nodded frantically and sucked in air like a drowning woman as those thick fingers slid up and under the waistband of her jeans. Staying quiet wasn’t really in her nature, but she’d sooner jump naked into a pit of live venomous snakes than do anything to make him move away from her. She’d beg except that would require talking and that was out – so she hoped that her body was doing the begging for her.

  When his lips finally finally met hers, Trish sighed, just a tiny sound on a soft breath, then she found herself hoping and praying that he didn’t consider that a sound or a reason to s
top what he was doing… because good Lord above, the man’s kisses were simultaneously the most sinful and purest things that she’d ever known in the whole of her damn life.

  His lips were molten, silken heat and she melted under them, just gave up the fight, the game, the ghost. Not that she’d done much resisting or playing hard-to-get or dying. Now, though? Now she might combust from absolute pleasure and blow away in the wind, because she was seconds away from meltdown – and he hadn’t even taken her clothes off yet.

  Please take my clothes off, Keegan.

  As if he’d heard her, suddenly his hands were everywhere. Tearing at material, undoing buttons, lifting her shirt over her head, shucking her jeans down and off, kicking them across the kitchen floor, peeling off her socks. And there Trish sat – a tumbled, tousled mess on the kitchen counter – in nothing but a sky-blue bra and panties.

  Those amazing silver eyes took her in now, bore through her, held Trish transfixed and frozen in place and time and utterly whole. Christ, the way that he stared at her made her forget to damn breathe, and she just prayed that she didn’t pass out before he finally touched her where she so desperately needed to be touched.

  “So.” He cocked his head slightly to one side, shamelessly devouring her trembling curves in pretty blue lace. “I was thinkin’.”

  She nodded for him to continue, biting her full lip to stop any words from accidentally spilling out.

  “How do you feel about bein’ my tastin’ platter?”

  She blinked at him and he grinned at her mute confusion.

  “What I mean is…” He slid his massive arms around her, lifted her up and off the counter as if she weighed no more than a cotton puff. “How do you feel about lyin’ right here on the floor while I drizzle honey on you, then use my tongue to follow where it goes?”

  Immediately, Trish went limp with desire, right there in mid-air. Keegan’s grinned widened, loving how he could hear her body talking to him, hear her desire, clear and strong as a bell. But still, he had to be sure.

  “I need you to tell me ‘yes’ in words, baby,” he rasped, his hands under her thighs. “Let me hear that it’s OK with you.”

  “Yes,” she whispered against his mouth, the word ragged and rough, like it was being torn out of her. “Yes, please. Keegan… please.”

  “Enthusiastic consent is the hottest thing ever,” he commented as he lowered her to her bare feet. “Now you get down there for me.”

  Without a word, Trish sank to the floor like every bone in her body had disintegrated. He crouched down beside her, retrieved her jeans and shirt, and balled them up. Then oh-so-gently, he pushed her back so her head was pillowed on her clothes – and she was helplessly prone on his gleaming kitchen floor with nothing more than a bit of lace separating him from her nipples and pussy.

  “Now,” Keegan told her, running a possessive finger over her cheek. “No more talkin’ unless somethin’ feels wrong and you need me to stop. Am I bein’ clear?”

  Trish nodded again.

  “That’s my girl,” he whispered, then paused. “I was also thinkin’…”

  She gazed up at her, her eyes a stormy, dusky, begging purple.

  “How do you feel about bein’ blindfolded?”

  Her sharp intake of breath could have been an awesome ‘bring it on!’ reaction – or it could have been abject fear. Anxious, hoping that he hadn’t freaked her out, Keegan peered at her. When he saw the lust bright and beautiful on her face, he relaxed; her desire was so powerful, it was physical.

  “So is that a yes?,” he asked. “A clear, firm, definite yes?”

  Trish nodded, her hair falling across her face at the vehemence of the motion. He laughed – it was low, dark, harsh – but his hands were gentle as he smoothed her hair back. The contrast of rough and tender made her knees even more weak, and she was nothing but grateful that she was flat on her back.

  “OK, then.” Keegan stood up again in a fluid, strong movement. Yet again, Trish admired his physical grace; yet again, she had to remind herself that he had a prosthesis under those well-worn jeans. “You wait here for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

  She watched him leave the kitchen, heard him in what must have been his bedroom at the end of the hall. She took a calming, steadying breath, grateful to have a few seconds to herself to get her spinning head straight.

  Something was going to happen here. Trish wasn’t totally sure what it was going to be, but frankly, she was ready for anything and everything. All she wanted was to be close to this man, to touch him, feel his weight on her, kiss him until the dawn broke tomorrow.

  This is going to be amazing. I know it.

  Then Keegan was back and he was on the floor next to her and it suddenly occurred to her that he was kneeling down, kneeling on both knees without even a wobble, and she was astonished all over again at what he could do with a leg that wasn’t fully flesh and blood.

  He held out a tie to show her, and she recognized it as the one that he’d worn to Nick and Mia’s wedding. She nodded once more, then shut her eyes as the dark material came towards her. Keegan tied it around her head, adjusted it a bit.

  “All right?” he asked, his hands cradling her face. “Too tight?”

  She shook her head.

  “OK then. Carryin’ on.”

  Right away, she noticed how different he sounded. From second one up at Open Skies, she’d found Keegan’s voice sexy as all-hell, but listening to it in the dark was an entirely new experience. It was low and husky and rough – and beneath his words, she heard his molten, simmering desire.

  Desire for me.

  “So you relax for a minute, baby.” She heard him stand up and move to the kitchen island. “Let me grab some stuff I’m gonna need to torment you with mercilessly.”

  Trish nodded even as her breath stopped dead in her chest at the word torment. She heard a cabinet door open, heard a drawer slide in and out, found these sounds a welcome distraction from what was about to happen – and then she wondered why she was so apprehensive.

  She wanted this. She did.

  So… why the tension in her mind?

  Stupid fucking question. It’s because of Dragon, naturally, because of what he and his sleazy buddy did to me that night. But Keegan isn’t those guys – and this is my choice.

  He’s not going to hurt me. I know that.

  Feeling much better at having articulated her fears, even silently and just to herself, Trish relaxed. And as she did, she started to think about what was going to happen here. She was going to be lying down, blind and defenseless, and let this gorgeous specimen of maleness slather her in honey and then feast on her. She was going to open up to him, let him in. She was going to both give and take from him: take what he gave her and in return, give to him without question.

  She was going to trust Keegan. Really, really trust him.

  She hadn’t trusted a man in a long time; maybe she’d never fully and completely trusted one before this very moment.

  Well. No time like the present.

  She both heard and felt Keegan beside her: for a brief second, she was astonished at the heat of him. She suddenly knew that this man had the power to warm her inside and out, like a campfire under the stars, and she found comfort in that. Trish knew that he was dangerous and wild – but safe and soothing too. He was something else and right here and right now, he was hers.

  He sat down in front of her slowly and she instinctively knew that he was giving her lots of time to know where he was, to relax into the strangeness of her blind vulnerability. He opened his legs, gently tugged her between them in a slow movement. Without a single thought or breath of hesitation, Trish wriggled closer to him, her thighs splayed wide, barely caring now that she was almost naked in front of a fully-clothed ex-special ops trained killer. She wanted to be naked with Keegan – utterly and fearlessly open in body and heart and soul.

  She wanted to tell him everything. And right now, here on this kitchen floor, blindfolded an
d in her underwear and surrounded by the aroma of honey and cinnamon, she knew that one day she would tell him all of it. Every shameful, awful, scalding detail.

  But not now. Not today.

  “Know what, darlin’?” he asked.

  She shook her head in response, tucked her bare toes under his legs.

  “You are hands-down the most beautiful creature that I’ve ever seen.” He paused and she knew that he was staring at her, just drinking her in as she lay there at his mercy and his pleasure. She felt those silver eyes lingering, stripping her naked, seeing further and deeper than her skin. “And you’re all mine.”

  Trish bit her lip to stop a moan from escaping. What this man did to her with words alone was a revelation. As a woman who’d made a living being anything but subtle or cerebral, where everything was in-your-face demanding and physical and sexual, the understanding that words alone could be a serious, huge turn-on was all the more bittersweet for having been discovered later in her life. Trish had never known that she could be faint and feverish with lust without even being touched, but dear Lord above, she knew it now.

  “Open that cute little mouth for me,” he said and when she did, he gently rubbed his finger on her lower lip. The sweet taste surprised and overwhelmed Trish’s senses, made her almost dizzy with want. Immediately, she closed her mouth around him, sucking the honey off him. She was greedy and hungry and suddenly, the sexual tension inside of her was roaring and raging beyond control, and she didn’t care even a little bit. “And you have permission to talk now, darlin’. You need to tell me how you’re doin’.”

  How she was doing? That was easy: she wanted him, whatever he was willing to give her, wanted it damn yesterday.