The Underground: The Complete Series

by Snow, Jenika

  “Fucking hell, Tristan.” He cupped her cheek, and she let go of his softening shaft.

  They stared at each other for several long minutes. There was so much she wanted to tell him. The expression he held spoke of his own emotions, ones that she hoped he would share. But all too quickly he put a wall around himself. He took a step back and zipped up his jeans. Grabbing her clothes, she dressed and stared at him.

  She watched his retreating back disappear into the kitchen. For a second all she could do was stand there, wondering what the hell had happened. When she entered the kitchen, Kash had his hands braced on the counter and his head down low.

  “I’m not okay with this.” Even she could hear the coldness in her voice. He turned around slowly and pegged her with his intense emerald-green stare.

  “I want to tell you things about myself that will put everything in its rightful place. You need to know who and what I truly am. Then maybe you can see getting involved with me is the worst possible mistake.”

  She felt her face heat. “Maybe you should have thought about all this before you fucked me, twice.” She was immensely pleased when she saw him visibly flinch at her crude language. Two could play at this game. He walked over to the table, sat down, and stared at her, waiting for her to do the same. When she was seated across from him, she waited patiently for him to start.

  “Do you know why I told you what I did the night we were intimate?”

  She didn’t bother responding because she knew damn well he’d continue no matter what she said.

  “I didn’t tell you those things because I don’t care for you. I told you because I do care about you.” He ran a hand over the back of his head before he continued. “I come from a broken, abusive family. I grew up in New York, lived in poverty, and had to learn to defend myself at a very young age. The ones fighting against me at first were my own drunken parents. Drugs and fists were a constant companion in my life. They were there when I woke up and when I went to bed. The scars go far deeper than my skin.”

  Tristan let her gaze travel over his tattooed body. Was that why there was so much ink covering his flesh? Was he hiding scars from the world? As if he saw her appraising him, he cleared his throat.

  “This one was from my father when I was eight.” He ran his finger along his bulging bicep. A thick patch of tribal art concealed whatever he was trying to show her. “This one was from a tequila bottle my mother broke over me when I didn’t respond to one of her questions fast enough.” His ran his finger along his pec. Again she saw nothing but dark ink. “This one and this one”—he gestured to his left side and abdomen—“are from a knife one of the neighborhood bullies tried to gut me with.”

  She couldn’t help stifling the gasp that spilled forth. Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them slide out. She didn’t want to make this any worse for him. He was taking a big leap of faith opening up to her like this, and she didn’t want him to think she felt sorry for him.

  He gave her a reassuring smile. “As I got a little older, it was the thugs in my neighborhood who felt the need to torment me.” He watched her with an unrelenting gaze, as if what he said should have scared her away by now.

  She wasn’t going anywhere.

  “I got my ass beat every day, up until I started filling into my body. The older and bigger I got, the less people fucked with me. In my early twenties I started getting into alley fights for a little extra cash. A man, Stephen, approached me one day and offered me a chance to get out of the slums and make something of myself. He told me when he was finished with me my name would be known, feared even.” He chuckled but it was humorless. “I was young, impressionable, and believed everything he said without thought.” He leaned back in his seat, watching her.

  Maybe he was giving her a minute to really understand what he’d said. She would have thanked him if she could have found her voice.

  “He took me away from all the drugs and violence that had been constant in my life thus far. He became like a father figure to me, showing me how to channel my anger into solid, direct hits that would never let me down.” His voice conveyed so much emotion it was like a physical touch. “He taught me that the only way to get what I wanted was to fight for it, because nothing in life was worth anything if you didn’t have to throw a couple punches in order to keep it.” He was silent for a suspended moment. “Under Stephen’s command I was a ruthless man, Tristan.” He held her gaze for a long moment, maybe trying to let her know without words what he was saying. But she felt them as if they were her own. “I held nothing back when I got into those cages. The blood and fear I extracted from those men fueled me into the monster I am today. I’m good at what I do, and it’s all I know.”

  “Kash,” she whispered his name.

  “I don’t know how to love you like you deserve.” He took her hand in his again and stared into her eyes. “I’m not ashamed to admit that there isn’t anything to me but that. I am a worthless son of a bitch that has nothing but darkness to offer you.”

  Everything around her seemed to cave in. Her anger, her feelings for him … everything vanished for that one moment as she let what he’d said sink in.

  “I am no different than the thugs I grew up around. The only difference is I make money hurting people. It’s hard for me to push my feelings for you aside because they’re just too strong—too real. I don’t want to ruin you.”

  There was angst in his eyes, and all she wanted to do was comfort him. His hard shell made sense now, but she had also seen a softer side to him, one that maybe he didn’t even realize he had. How could she make him understand that there was more to him than just a couple of fists?

  She wanted to ask about Stephen more, but she knew Kash had closed up that part of himself again. Maybe Kash had finally found the father he deserved, or maybe this man was just using him as a pawn? She would never know for sure, at least not while Kash still held her at arm’s length.

  “Do you not see what I see?” He didn’t respond. “I see a man who is sweet, thoughtful, and caring. I also see one who isn’t afraid of anything and that stood up for himself when no one else would. That doesn’t make you a bad person. That makes you a survivor.” She didn’t need to mention that beating a person’s face in to get a paycheck wasn’t what he had to do because he thought that was all he deserved.

  The thought of him as a little boy, being abused and tormented, pulled at her heart. She wished she’d been there to hold him, take care of him.

  He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “There is so much goodness in you.” He smoothed his thumb over the back of her hand as he held her gaze. “I know who and what I am.” He pulled his hand away and stood. She did the same.

  “Please.” She didn’t say anything else because she honestly didn’t know what to say. Her hand was extended in front of her, as if she could will him not to go. “Please, Kash, please don’t go.” He cared for her. He’d said as much. Even though he may not feel comfortable with his feelings, they were still there.

  She meant something to him.

  ****

  This was it, the moment that Kash knew he could no longer avoid. He needed to tell Tristan everything, needed her to know who he really was and why he was no good for her. She was everything good and sweet in the world, and he was the grime and trash that littered the street.

  Maybe if he laid himself out there, showed her what kind of life he had, how he had lived, she would realize that nothing could happen between them—even if he desperately wanted her. Only her.

  He took a deep breath, not knowing where to start. Why wasn’t he just leaving? Why wasn’t he packing his shit and getting the hell away from her? It would solve both of their problems, but he would be left feeling like a bastard and a coward. The one making this hard on everyone was him. He knew that.

  “Please, Kash, please talk to me. I’m here. Don’t go.”

  His feelings for her amplified tenfold. No one had ever given a shit about him, not really.
They’d acted like he’d meant something to them, but in the end he was just a paycheck. Tristan, on the other hand, looked at him like he was the world, like she could actually save him. He knew better, of course, but he found that he wanted to change for her, that he wanted to be that man she so desperately deserved.

  In her eyes he could see the pleading, could see the longing for him to just open the fuck up and tell her how he really felt. He knew that his growing emotions were like nothing he had ever felt for a woman before. Hell, they were like nothing he had ever felt for any person.

  Kash didn’t know love, had never been in love, but he knew that if he was capable of loving someone, it was her. Only her.

  21

  Kash took a step toward her but then stopped. An expression of anguish passed over his face. When he lifted his hand and placed it against her cheek, she couldn’t help but lean into his touch.

  “I don’t know how to be any other way, Tristan. I don’t know how to be the man you deserve.”

  She couldn’t help it. Tears pricked her eyes. “I only need you, Kash.”

  He crushed her body to his and ran his lips down her neck. He murmured incoherent things, and although Tristan couldn’t understand any of it, she knew they were words of endearment.

  How long had he gone through life alone? Was there ever a time that he had someone to care for him, to hold him? She would give that to him, all of it, for as long as he would accept it. It was then, as his lips were pressed against her pulse and his hands kept her body tight against his, that she knew there was no denying her feelings.

  Tristan cared for him so deeply that she knew it had to be love.

  It is love.

  She’d never loved anyone before, and the feelings swirling around inside of her were too strong—too consuming—to deny as being anything else. At that moment it didn’t matter what he did for a living. It didn’t matter what type of background he had. It was just her and Kash, a man and a woman, living in that one moment.

  “Tristan.” He sighed her name and brought his mouth to hers. The kiss started off slow but soon picked up in intensity. Strong lips, forceful tongue, Kash knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it. She loved both sides of him, loved how one person would create these hurricane-like emotions within her.

  Her breasts were pressed tightly against his chest, and her hands gripped the hard planes of his back. He slowly moved his hands down to cup the cheeks of her ass and brought her pelvis flush with his. The feel of his cock, hard and insistent against her, had her moaning against his eager mouth. He was ready for her again, and she was more than willing to give all of herself over.

  When she felt him start to lift her, she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. A strangled groan escaped him as she ground her pussy against his erection. The next thing she realized, he was moving.

  His mouth never left hers as he took the stairs quickly and then entered her bedroom, the door slamming shut behind him. When her back met the mattress, all she could think about was getting naked and feeling him move inside of her. It didn’t matter that they’d just been intimate moments before. The arousal and feelings swirling inside of her made it seem like she hadn’t seen him in ages, like she couldn’t get enough.

  He broke the kiss and took a step back. Even in the darkened room she could see his expression. Painful arousal.

  “Strip for me, Tristan.”

  A soft cry left her as his dark words penetrated her lust-filled mind. She started to quickly undress, but he stopped her with a firm shake of his head.

  “Nice and slow, baby. Strip for me and make me ache to see what you are hiding beneath all that material.”

  She did as he asked, not even daring to disobey. When she was nude beneath his gaze, he went for his zipper. He hadn’t buckled his belt after they’d been together on the couch, so his fingers made quick work of the material and metal. The next few minutes were agonizingly slow for her as she watched all his hard flesh being revealed. When he was nude and his cock jutted forward from his body, he made his way toward her.

  “Spread your legs.” He was between her thighs, pushing her thighs apart so that he could fit his wide shoulders between them. “You smell so sweet.”

  Tristan felt self-conscious, even after everything they had done together. Already she felt like she could climax. His voice, the image of him naked, all of it plus more had her on a razor’s edge. He closed his mouth against her, sucking at her flesh, licking her hole, bringing her closer to the pleasure she desperately sought. Her body didn’t care that she’d gotten off already.

  It was a greedy bitch that wanted more, so much more.

  “Please, Kash. Oh God, please.”

  “What do you want, baby? Tell me what you need.” His words were muffled against her flesh.

  The vibrations from his voice sent needles of desire straight to her clit. “Please fuck me. Put it inside of me.” Her choice of words was crude at best, but she was too far gone to give a shit. The only thing she cared about was feeling him shove all those hard inches into her and fuck her roughly.

  He grunted against her soaking-wet flesh and then suctioned his mouth onto her clit. Tristan arched her back and cried out as she came. As the tremors slowly left and she was somewhat conscious of what was going on around her, she glanced down at Kash. He watched her from between her legs, his tongue still stroking her slit, prolonging the pleasure.

  He teased her pussy hole with a thick finger before dipping it inside of her. Her legs fell all the way open of their own accord as he started to fuck her with the digit. Another one was added, and then another, until he was thrusting three fingers into her sensitive body. She was close again, so close that if he just sucked her clit a little harder, she would go off.

  He didn’t give her time to beg, though.

  He slipped the fingers from her body, and she was embarrassed that her pussy greedily sucked at the digits, refusing to let them go. With the light from the streetlamps casting a soft glow through the window, she could see her wetness glistening off his mouth and those three digits.

  Breath coming in short pants, he brought them to his mouth and sucked her juices off. The sight was highly erotic and caused a gush of moisture to leave her. He chuckled deeply when he noticed her reaction to him and then bent his head to lick her clean.

  “I’m going to fuck you again, Tristan.” He crawled up her body until they were face-to-face. She could feel the hot length of him press against her cleft and lifted her ass to rub against him. He growled low in his throat.

  “Watch it, baby. I’m barely holding on to my control as it is.” He pushed back from her so that he could look between her legs. He gripped the base of his shaft and aligned it with the opening of her pussy. In one swift move he buried himself deep within her.

  The pleasure-pain was bittersweet, and she had to grip the sheets beneath her to keep from bringing him closer. Her pussy was already deliciously sore, but she didn’t care. Having him inside of her again heightened the pleasure. Tristan cried out in ecstasy as her body quaked. Just the feel of him sliding into her had made her come.

  Slow, steady strokes were not what she was after, but before she could protest, he started to move. Hard and fast, Kash was like a machine as he pistoned in and out of her body. The sting of pain from his powerful thrusts coupled with the pleasure of another mounting orgasm had her thrashing her head on the pillow. He cupped her breasts, his fingers pinching and tugging at her nipples. The ache he caused had her pushing her chest into his seeking hands, needing more.

  He was skillful, masterful, everything Tristan feared, loved, and hated. He knew just the right amount of pressure, knew just the right amount of depth to send her closer and closer to Elysium.

  “Yes, more, Kash.”

  He responded with a growl against her neck. His hips pressed faster, harder. His fingers tugged to the point of pain. When she didn’t think she could take any more, she shoved her face against the crook of his a
rm and bit his firm flesh as she cried out in ecstasy. His gasp of surprise fueled her pleasure even higher. The taste of blood slipped across her tongue, but she was too far gone to pay it any heed.

  “I knew you’d respond like this.” His hot breath coasted against her ear, sending shivers skating down her spine. “Your body was made for me, Tristan. You’re so tight, hot, wet.” Another deep, primal growl and she whimpered in response. “I’ll never get enough, never.” He thrust into her once, twice, and on the third time he stilled and groaned deeply.

  Everything around her dimmed in comparison to that one moment. She felt him grow thicker inside of her as he filled her with his seed. The repercussions of such an irresponsible act weren’t lost on her, but she didn’t want to think about that right now or any other time. This was the man she loved, the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

  22

  Tristan let her fingers run along the ridges of Kash’s abdomen. His breathing was even and slow, and she knew their intense bout of sex had worn him out. She was exhausted herself, but a lot of things ran through her mind. It had been several weeks since the night he’d confessed his life to her. It was as if he still kept a part of himself distant from her. With each passing day, she was finding it harder and harder to keep her emotions in check.

  Already she knew her feelings for him went way beyond infatuation. She loved him without a doubt. Tristan kept this revelation to herself because she didn’t know how he’d feel, how he’d react.

  There were times when he looked into her eyes and she felt how much he cared for her, how much he wanted to express those emotions, but then something would intrude on that moment and he’d close himself off, put that wall back in place. The perpetual crease between his eyes, as if he was always deep in thought, tugged at her heart. How many times had she wanted to run the pad of her finger between his eyes and smooth the skin?