The Need Boxset

by K. I. Lynn

  I gape at him for a few moments. “So . . . You do know.”

  “Of course I do.”

  I feel betrayed. Plotted against. “And you let him? Where the hell is my big brother protector?” There's more than just indignation in my voice; I know he can hear how much this is hurting me right now.

  Ryan just twitches, and for a second, I almost convince myself this is as hard for him as it is for me. “I just want my little sister to be happy and the only person I've ever seen truly do that for you is him. Since you were seven.”

  He means well, I tell myself, even as I sit here shaking my head in denial at his words. “He's also the only person that's ever destroyed me. Did you know that? When you asked me who was the motherfucker that broke my heart, it was him.” I might as well put it all on the table at this point.

  If Ryan thinks he's doing the right thing by siding with Brayden, he needs to know how wrong he is.

  “He's already paid for that.”

  A huge lump slides into my throat. Has he? I want to ask. How could he? Does no one understand how many years of heartbreak Brayden's put me through? “He doesn't just get to change his mind now. Not after everything. Doesn't anyone understand that?”

  “I do, Kira. That's why I made him pay.”

  That surprises me. Even so, I'm so wounded inside that my bitterness doesn't leave any room for understanding on my end. According to my pain, my brother is taking the side of the man that broke me, and it burns. “Oh yeah?” I ask bitterly. “And how did you make him pay?”

  “I've busted up his face a few times now.”

  My mind has a hard time accepting that. It's not because it was Ryan that delivered the blows, but who he gave them to. Never in a million years did I ever imagine Ryan physically attacking Brayden.

  All of the anger I felt toward Ryan drains out of me, leaving me with my only constant companion—the rage Brayden left. I curl my arms around myself. “I'll never be able to forgive him.”

  “You're miserable, Kira.”

  “It's his fault.”

  “He needs to try to fix it.”

  “Stop taking his side,” I whisper, tightening my arms.

  “I'm not. I'm taking both your sides.”

  “I don't want him to try to fix it!”

  “You won't be okay any other way,” he shoots back. “I know you're hurt. Angry . . . Stubborn. But let him try. If, after he does, he still fucks up, or you still can't forgive him, I'll get him out of your life myself.”

  I want Brayden out of my life now, but I can tell that letting Ryan know that won't do any good. “I hate him.”

  “I know. Let's see if he can change that.”

  “He won't,” I vow quietly as I physically struggle to hold myself together.

  I don't care what anyone says. I deserve better than what Brayden can offer me.

  And, one day, I'm going to find it.

  April 18, 2014

  Kira's 18th birthday

  Cattle.

  An obstacle course of living, breathing bodies.

  A never-ending wall of unnecessary observers.

  All of this goes through my head as I stand here and watch everyone milling about. I would give anything to get rid of all these people.

  I don’t care how; I just want them gone.

  It doesn’t matter if they leave of their own volition. I wouldn’t care if half of them just happened to drop dead right now.

  I know almost everyone here.

  An homage to my dwindling state of mind, I guess.

  Did I say dwindling? My bad. I meant decimated. I'm actually contemplating finding a way to cause some kind of disaster to send all these people scrambling away from this house.

  Those are not the hallmarks of a normal man.

  But they're all in my way. Potential witnesses to what I plan to do to one woman, and I am not capable of dealing with their intrusion today.

  They shouldn't be here.

  They're here for her.

  My girl.

  Every male in this place is in full peacock mode: dressed in what they believe is their best, drenched in cologne. They're here to get laid. Any hot girl will do. But in the back of most of their minds, I know there's that vague, foolish hope.

  Kira's finally legal. Most of the douchebags here have been trying to get a piece of her even before today. Now they believe nothing's holding them, or her, back.

  They think now's the time to convince her to give them a chance.

  Adversaries by choice. All of them. They have no fucking clue what they're doing to themselves by choosing to stand in my way. The violence I'm biting back every time I see one of them with that hopeful expression, looking around.

  For her.

  I swallow each acrid wave of aggravation, letting it build in the pit of my stomach. With a single curl of my fist, it morphs into something else. Aggression. But I don't unleash it yet. No. I'm letting it grow ridiculously strong, waiting to see if he will be stupid enough to show his face here tonight.

  None of these fuckers know why I'm truly here, but I silently dare them to get in the way of me finally taking what's mine.

  Especially him. Austin.

  I itch to wreck him, lay into him until my knuckles are torn again. This time, I'll break everything in his body beyond the point of proper healing. Then, after I'm covered in all of his blood, I'll head straight for my girl.

  Lies. I don't want even that part of him near her. I'll clean up first.

  The sea of bodies parts and moves, people shifting around in that ancient flow of revelry. Some mingle. Others flirt. Others dance to the pounding music, their bodies grinding in a perfect, clothed mimicry of sex.

  Where's Ryan? Why the hell did he allow Kira's friends to throw this party for her?

  I stand outside, in the shadows, near the periphery of the fence. The smell of weed and cigarette smoke drifts my way.

  I doubt weed's the only drug being used at this party.

  Why did Sonia and my father decide to go away during Kira's birthday weekend? No one can convince me that they didn't know something like this would happen.

  There's probably people having sex in every guestroom and open bathroom in the house.

  I know how these parties go. I'm a bona fide veteran of this shit. It's not that Kira doesn't deserve a party, it's that I can't handle the thought of her in this environment without everyone knowing she's spoken for.

  She's prey. Vulnerable. Enticing.

  I'm not the only hunter here, stalking her tonight.

  I slam back the rest of my beer and text Ryan. Where the hell are you?

  Somewhere I won't be there to witness whatever the hell is gonna happen between you and my sister.

  Does that mean you're not here?

  What do you think?

  What the fuck man?

  You wanted this. Consider yourself lucky I decided to not get in the way. Don't let her drink or do drugs bro. I'll break your damn nose next time.

  Like I need the fucking reminder of the two sessions when his fist collided with my face. I’m not letting her near any of that shit. I want Kira sober and fully aware of what’s happening when I’m finally inside her.

  Leaning against the side of the house, I continue to watch. It’s unusually warm for this time of year, so there’s almost as many people mingling by the pool as I can see inside the house. I feel ancient. Like a sentry that's been standing guard for too damn long. Always watching. Always waiting.

  Always wanting from afar, barely afforded a little nibble of her, when all I want is to fucking eat every inch.

  Fuck this shit. I’m not waiting anymore. I've waited long enough, and it's turned me into a mentally unstable, violent asshole, ruled by my cock's blue-ball craving for her pussy.

  I straighten—

  My gaze lands on her. Air rushes out of my lungs.

  The first thing I see is her hair, falling down her back, caressing the top of her plump, round ass.

  M
y brow tightens. That dress is way too short considering the weather. Too many eyes are locked on those sexy, toned legs as she moves around.

  Within a matter of seconds, she’s surrounded, mindless bodies being led by nothing but their cocks flanking her on all sides. I can almost hear the vapid, low hisses of every jealous female in this place.

  What the fuckers surrounding her don’t get is that she’s already spoken for.

  I pop my jaw and pull my phone back out of my pocket. I wonder if they realize that they’re all asking to die.

  Kira’s phone is in her hand, and I see it light up from where I’m standing. She looks down at it and tenses.

  Good. Now she knows I’m here.

  Can she feel it? The purpose that’s pounding loudly through my veins? There’s only one way this night is ending. My body knows it, and I know that deep down hers does, too.

  She excuses herself from the crowd of imbeciles vying for her attention and walks toward a quieter area of the backyard. They all turn to watch her go, unable to tear their motherfucking eyes off my girl.

  Those fucks can all want her; only I’m going to get her.

  Why are you here?

  Why? Don’t you want me here?

  No. I don’t. So leave.

  Little, little liar. I look up. The lights around the pool bounce off her skin. She’s still watching her phone, waiting for my reply. Belying her statement about wanting me to leave.

  Maybe it’s wrong that I’m here tonight of all nights, that I’m not letting her celebrate her eighteenth birthday the way that she wants to.

  I don’t give a fuck.

  I’m sick from fighting this shit. Sick from years of denying myself something that my body needs to survive. I’m not going anywhere without you, Kitty.

  Across the backyard, even though it’s nighttime, I catch a glimpse of the angry pout on her face.

  I want to bite that bottom lip.

  Suck on it.

  Rub the tip of my dick across it and demand that she suck the ache right out of me.

  I told you to leave.

  From where I’m standing, it doesn’t seem like you really want me to leave.

  I see her eyes widen. Her head shoots up, her hair flowing across her shoulders as she looks around.

  Searching for me.

  She won't find me. Not yet. I'm still hidden in the shadow on the side of the house. Her eyes flicker in my direction and pause, as if she can feel me standing here. My body throbs, my lower abs clenching. I breathe in deeply, trying to leash my impulses a little longer.

  My phone vibrates.

  I do want you to leave. As in: NOW.

  Prove it.

  How, asshole?

  Look me right in the eye and tell me you don't want me here. What I don't tell her is that by the time she's close enough to stare me in the eyes, I'll have my hands on her.

  Fine, dickhead. Meet me inside.

  Wait. Not exactly what I had in mind. No. My plan is to grab her and take her with me, back to the hotel room I rented for us tonight.

  Frustrated, hornier than a fucking demon, I storm around the side of the house, heading toward the front. I'm not going through the backyard. The less people see me, the better. Less people to suspect who Kira's really with once I take her away.

  Licking my lips, I imagine my fist wrapped around her hair, using the hold to my advantage. I can almost imagine the exact feel of her silky, wet cunt sucking on my length, the utter bliss. I'm going to finally have her, all that sweet skin bared for my tongue.

  Fuck. I want my tongue inside her as bad as I want it to be my cock.

  I take the front steps two at a time. A few people hanging outside on the porch turn to watch me go by. I ignore them all. One of the girls by the door smiles at me, biting on her lip while wrapping her hair around one finger. I barely spare her a glance.

  Not interested.

  I take out my phone as I walk through the front door, about to text Kira one more time.

  There, on her way up the stairs, is my girl.

  She makes it up to the landing on the second floor. The skirt of her black and light pink dress flares. I catch a glimpse of the matching lace booty shorts she's wearing—black with a light pink string laced to the back.

  Every muscle in my body contracts. A wave of brutal energy ripples through me.

  My temper flares.

  No one's allowed to see those panties but me.

  Swallowing heavily, I take off, more determined than ever. So possessed that I hear how hard my steps slam against the stairs.

  Kira didn't know I'd be here today. So who the hell did she decide to wear those sexy little panties for? I want to scream out the question to her. I almost do so, too, but stop myself when I pass another group of people standing on the second floor landing.

  More fucking witnesses. Beautiful.

  Seething, I text her. Who are you wearing those panties for? I dare her to say Austin. I dare her.

  She's halfway down the hall when she gets my text. Her head shoots up after reading it, her hands trembling around her phone. She turns to search me out.

  I'm already here.

  “I asked you a question,” I hiss into her ear, pressing my body hard into her back and moving her forward. I don't stop until I have her inside the first door I see.

  My room.

  Thank fuck it's empty.

  Kira pulls herself out of my arms, spinning around, all that beautiful hair swirling over her shoulders. “You fucking asshole.” She stumbles backwards away from me, her chest heaving inside the lace black top of her dress. “You really don't give a damn about what I want—”

  “I know what you want, baby. I'm right here. Take me.” I step toward her.

  She slaps me.

  I grab her arm and yank her closer.

  She slaps me again, harder this time.

  Squeezing down on both her arms, I bring her face to face, our noses brushing.

  Reaching up, she sinks her nails into my biceps, clawing at me through the leather jacket I'm wearing.

  Her tongue peeks out and wets those juicy lips. Lips I remember so damn well. I’ve been haunted by the feel of them for way too long. Raising one hand, I cup her jaw and run my thumb across them, groaning at the feel of her wet heat. Tightening my hand around her jaw, I lean down, until our mouths are right there. So close I can taste her breath.

  “I hate you,” she spits, lips brushing mine.

  I nip her top lip. “And I love you.”

  “Excuse me?” She gasps.

  Tilting my head, I take her mouth, sliding my tongue past her plump lips. The fight leaves her almost instantly, her body melting into mine. Her little tongue seduces mine with drugging sweeps that leave my cock pounding to every beat of my heart.

  Her body tenses out of nowhere, her anger reawakening with a blast that I feel all over. I moan desperately. Kira bites me, growling like an angry kitten with her fury, and I taste blood. “Fuck, yes, baby.” I can barely breathe. “Hurt me if you have to, but don't stop. Give it to me.”

  She pounds on my chest with her small fists. “Hate you. I hate you so fucking much.” Her nails rake down my chest, searing my abs.

  I arch into her and fist her hair so I can lean my forehead against hers. Staring into her eyes, I grit out, “And I told you: I. Love. You.”

  Agony flashes in her eyes. A small dry sob leaves her parted, luscious lips.

  Wrapping my arms around her, I bring her in even tighter, knowing that she can feel my heart thundering. “I do, Kira. I fucking love you. It's pathetic how much.”

  She opens her mouth, no doubt to refute me again.

  I don't let her.

  Kissing her, I let one hand slide down the curve of her back, under the pink skirt of her dress to squeeze her perfectly round ass. The lace of her panties tickles the palm of my hand.

  “Now, admit you wore these for me.” Skin against skin under the teasing, flimsy material that I want to rip off her.<
br />
  “That’s bullshit.” Her voice is low, breath growing heavier with each exhale.

  “Then tell me who.” Sweet, slick pussy lips are a fucking furnace against my fingertips. She’s wet already, but it isn’t a surprise—I always make my girl wet.

  “Why? So you can . . . fuck . . . beat them up?”

  “Yes.” My hips arch forward, pressing my cock into her. I let out a groan, loving the way her eyes flutter at the sound, and tense my neck as I try to keep my shit together. “You’re mine, and all the fuckers need to know you’re off limits.”

  I find it, my spot, the first place I ever marked her, and press my lips against the skin. Sucking, biting, showing them all that she’s taken.

  Mine.

  My fingers are being pushed into her, not some dipshit’s. A high-pitched moan next to my ear sends shivers down my back, pulsing through my balls, making my dick jump. Small hands curl into my jacket, moving up my shoulders until they grip onto my hair, pulling me from her neck.

  “I wore them because they match my dress,” she hisses, eyes rolling as my fingers pump into her.

  My lips twitch into a smile. So stubborn.

  So delicious.

  I turn us around and lead her back into the closed door, pumping my fingers shallowly into her the whole time.

  Her back meets the door.

  I fall to my knees before her, not even thinking of doing it when I stick my fingers into my mouth. Her taste—fuck. I thrust my hips into the air, the tip of my cock wet against my boxers.

  Kira's back arches along the wall.

  Growling around my fingers, I slap my free hand around her thigh, locking down tight in case she even thinks of going anywhere.

  “Let me go,” she whispers.

  It's just my hand, around her thigh—she can break my hold if she really wants to. Break free with a simple, easy step if she would even try. But I know what she really means with that statement, what she's really asking me.

  I slide my fingers out of my mouth and latch onto her thighs with both hands. Tilting my head to look up at her, I whisper back, “Never.” My thumbs slide along her inner thighs, the heat of her beckoning.

  Torment flashes across her features in a moment of vulnerability that leaves me weak.