Kestrel

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Kestrel Page 18

by A. M. Hargrove


  Leaning forward, I draw her nipple into my mouth and tug on it with my teeth. Her gasp is loud, but the moan that follows is even more so. My fingers sink into the silky flesh of her hips as I hold her steady. She’s like a soft rose petal to touch—velvety smooth and so strokable. So hot and sweet that I can’t get enough of her—I could run my hands all over her twenty-four-seven and never tire of feeling that satin beneath my hands. Her long slender fingers clutch my shoulders and when her head falls back, I seriously rethink that thing about only touching. I can hardly believe that this angel—because she truly is one—is here with me, naked and willing, and all I have to do is say the word and she’s mine. And right now, I want to bury my dick into her hot wet pussy so much I can almost taste it. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pull her as close as I can. It’s her neck I need to taste now. Her scent is in my blood, winding its way into my brain, branding me. How did this happen? How did I go from thinking she looked like a nun to not being able to keep my hands off her?

  “Angel, look at me.”

  Her lids flutter open and with her lips slightly parted, I know I’m a dead man.

  “Kiss me. Like you did the first day we met.”

  “But …”

  “No buts, angel. Give me your mouth. All of it.”

  And she does. Tentatively at first. Because she’s afraid I may possibly reject her like I did that one time? I’ll put her mind at ease about that. I kiss her back like I’m tasting the most perfect delicacy in the world. And then I realize I am. She’s sweet; she’s tangy; she’s salty; she everything I love in a kiss. Soft and engaging. Not controlling but not shy. Her hands drift up to my face, and then her fingers plunge into my hair. She nips my tongue with her teeth and deepens the kiss until we both moan. I fall back onto the couch, taking her with me, and we make out like two teenagers.

  “You kiss like an angel, too. I’m glad I chose that name for you.”

  She laughs. “Did we just make out?”

  My chest rumbles. “Yeah, I think we did. Did my beard scratch you?”

  “I love your scruff. It’s sexy.”

  “Your chin is terribly pink. Chafed, perhaps?”

  “I’ll survive. I’ve never really made out with a boy before.”

  “A boy? Is that what I am?”

  Giggles erupt out of her. “No, you are definitely a man. A very handsome man at that.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Seriously?”

  Looking down at her neck again, mainly to avoid her knowing eyes, I say, “I’ve been with a lot of women, but never like this. I’ve never told a woman the things I’m telling you. My looks are something I take for granted. They’re what I was doled out at birth. I look at Kolson and think he’s the one with the looks. I’m too brooding looking. Too stern.”

  “Wanna know what I think?”

  “Hell yes. I’ve told you what I think about you. Fair play, I’d say.”

  “Kolson is very handsome. But you—you’re a notch above him. It’s your eyes. They’re startling. The first time I saw you I felt you could see all the way into my soul. The contrast of your black hair and green eyes is—what did you call me? Oh yeah, perfectly beautiful. Did you know I sometimes watch you when you sleep? I like to gaze at you, because there are so many things about you that I miss when you’re awake. Like the way your lashes brush the tops of your cheekbones. You have the longest lashes I’ve ever seen. And the way the creases on your face disappear, like all your troubles are gone. And I like to stare at your sexy body, especially your ass, if the covers have slipped off. There’s not a thing about you I would change because you’re flawless. That’s what you are, Kestrel.”

  “I’m honored you would think that. Thank you, angel. But I’m far from flawless.”

  “No, it’s the truth.” She lifts my hand and kisses it. “So, how many girls have you made out with?”

  Laughing, I say, “None. Well, before tonight that is. With my life the way it was, that was never a possibility.”

  She looks at me like I’m trying to sell her the Brooklyn Bridge. “I find that hard to believe. You probably had girls chasing you everywhere.”

  “Angel, they were afraid of my father. There was no chasing, trust me.”

  “What about when you were in college?”

  “Yeah, college. I bounced around a lot. Started out at Harvard.”

  “Harvard?”

  “Hard to believe, isn’t it?” I ask.

  “Not at all.”

  I laugh. “Of course it is. I am the opposite of the preppie Harvard type, which is why I didn’t last long.”

  “Then where?”

  “Rutgers. Langston was pissed over that one. It wasn’t good enough for a Hart. But he didn’t have to be pissed for too long. I was expelled after one semester. It seems I wasn’t integrating too well. I got into a lot of fights. And I mean a lot. It probably had something to do with letting out my frustrations. Unfortunately, I took them out in the wrong places at the wrong times.”

  “And no girls?”

  “Oh, there were girls. I stayed clear of them, though. You have to remember I was awkward around them. I never learned how to interact with them.”

  “So then what?”

  “How is it I’m telling you my life’s story in one sitting?”

  She shrugs. “I have that effect on people.”

  “Oh, you have an effect all right.” My gaze drops down and hers follows. Then her cheeks turn pink. I brush my thumb back and forth over the crest of her cheek, saying, “I love it when this happens. I can feel the heat here.”

  “It’s because I’m embarrassed.”

  “Why? I’m the one with the hard on.”

  “I know that, but I’m a little shy is all.”

  “And it’s very endearing. I’m not used to shy. I’m finding I like it.”

  She purses her lips and pauses briefly. Then she blurts, “Tell me about the women in your past.”

  It takes a lot to leave me speechless, but she has accomplished that quite nicely. “Wow. Wasn’t expecting that.”

  “Sorry. You don’t have to tell me anything. I was curious because you say how you never hung out with girls in high school or college, yet you told me you’ve been with dozens of women. It doesn’t add up.”

  “No, it wouldn’t to you. Remember what I told you when I called you angel for the first time?”

  “I do. You said that I was pure, sweet, and kind.”

  “The women I spent my time with were the polar opposite of that. Some were high end call girls. Others were as close to that as you could get. They were with me for one thing only. They got what they wanted and so did I. Afterward we went our separate ways.”

  She’s as silent as I’ve ever seen her; who can blame her? I just explained to her that I’ve had sex with the sleaziest of the sleazy. And here she is, the most wholesome, honorable person I’ve ever met.

  It’s a question I hate to ask, but one that I must. “Are you sorry you asked or are you sorry you ever met me?”

  “Neither. I’m puzzling you out. On the one hand, I get why you’re afraid to be in a relationship. Fear is a compelling reason. On the other hand, one would think you would crave it.”

  “Hmm. I do. A lot. I crave touch, human contact. I crave so many things I can’t even name them all. When I was that kid locked in the dark, I would tell myself that one day my mom would swoop into the room, open the shades, and let the sunshine in. Then she’d wrap me in her arms and carry me away from that terrible place. When that didn’t happen, my hopes and dreams began to diminish until it got to the point that the only thing I wanted was a blanket to keep warm. I learned to survive on very little. That’s what I’m doing now. Even though I crave things, I’ve learned it’s easiest to go without them.”

  “But you don’t have to. That’s what I don’t understand.”

  I pull her on top of me and thread my fingers into her hair. It’s smoother now, with soft waves framing her face. “I’l
l tell you a story. After all that shit went down with my father, I decided to get away for a while. So after the dust settled, I went for a hike.”

  Her brow furrows, so I massage it with my thumbs.

  “A hike?” she asks.

  Grinning, I say, “Yeah. I hiked part of the Appalachian Trail. I was gone for over two months. During that time, I reflected on the path my life had taken and where it would go next. It was there I realized I needed a change and made the final decision to come here. I had been tossing it around in my head for a few months, but after about a month on the trail of being completely alone, I knew I needed to separate from my family. If I didn’t, I would never straighten out my life. As much as I hated my father, I was also tethered to him. And as strange as this sounds, when he died, I was lost. Yes, I was ecstatic, but I was lost. He led me around like a stupid dog all those years, and now what was I to do? The time on the trail gave me my answers. I also learned about myself. I’m a jerk and an ass. But I’ve changed since I’ve returned. I’ve made a conscious effort to be kinder to people. The one thing I want the most is not to become the man my father was. In order to do that, I needed to make some changes and I’m working on that. I love my family. They are the most important people in my world, but I won’t ever become the person I need to be if I stay dependent upon them. Being away taught me so much about independence and the kind of a person I want to be, need to be, so that’s why I’m here. Not only to help my brother, but to help myself.”

  She’s been still as stone the whole time I’ve been talking. Now she says very quietly, so that I have to strain to hear her, “I was afraid of you the first time we met.”

  “I’m not a very warm person, so I imagine you were. But you were so brave to propose that deal.”

  “It wasn’t bravery. It was sheer exigency. I was at the end of the road. All my options were exhausted. Selling was my last recourse. No one knew of Ells’ room. I never breathed of word of it to anyone—not even my closest friends. So when you were standing there, the idea formed in my mind and the more it took root, I knew I had to run with it. Bravery had nothing to do with it. And then I was so humiliated.” She covers her face with her hands.

  Pulling them away I say, “I’m sorry I made you feel that way.” And I am. “Extremely so. And ashamed. I should have acted more like a gentleman. You took me by surprise.”

  “It wasn’t surprise, Kestrel. You didn’t want me at all. Not like you do now. I can tell the difference. Something changed between us.”

  “Yes. That night in your lab. You were so passionate about what you do. It was so damn sexy, it almost killed me not to kiss you. Even in your lab coat and those goggles you had on, I was aroused.”

  “Hmm. I’ll have to remember that.” She yawns and doesn’t bother to cover her mouth. It’s oddly charming. She looks like a little kid and I chuckle.

  “Come on, angel, time to get you in bed.”

  “Yeah, I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  “Maybe, but none of them ever stayed the night.”

  A beaming grin spreads across her face. “Really? You’re not just saying that, are you?”

  “Why would I do that? I’ve never let a woman sleep in my bed. I would meet them at her place or a hotel. Even though I slept with a lot of women, I had standards. I was always protected and never did they come to my place.”

  “Were you safe? I mean I guess I should’ve asked this before we had sex, but condoms aren’t one hundred percent failsafe.”

  “I know. And yeah, I would get tested every month when I was the most active. You’re the first person I’ve been with since I went hiking. I was tested before I left.”

  Relief washes over her like a spring rain as I watch the lines disappear from her face.

  I tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Angel, I wouldn’t have slept with you if I hadn’t been sure. I would never have dared to sully your purity with my darkness.”

  Her lips briefly press mine, and then she says, “Take me to bed, Kestrel. I want to wrap myself around you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Carter

  Complex. That’s what Kestrel is. He is a man who is layered with an intricate mesh grid and every time he tells me something, my mind reels with the information he gives. That he has withstood so much in his twenty-nine years and isn’t a broken, crumbling mess is beyond my comprehension. Yes, I have had my share of woes. But if I were to stack mine next to his, I think his would be greater. Though the loss of a child is a terrible thing, I was raised with the true love of a family surrounding me. He never had that. And he also experienced loss—the loss of his birth mother. Left to withstand torture and abuse at such an early age, it’s a wonder he didn’t grow up to have a host of mental disorders. Every time I peel back one layer of the mesh, I find something else that breaks my heart. The urge to comfort him is so strong, but I don’t know where to start.

  He is so off the mark about himself. He doesn’t see what others do. At the core of all those layers is a man with a giant heart who wants to do the right thing and is trying to make that happen. The strength of character he possesses is phenomenal.

  “What are you thinking about? What has you so bothered that your brow is so creased?” he asks.

  “I’m thinking about you.”

  “Ah. I see. I’m sure to crease anybody’s brow.”

  “Yes, you are. But not in the way you’re imagining.”

  His head tilts as he stares at me. Intensely. He’s analyzing me. I stand there and don’t flinch. “What do you mean?” he finally asks.

  “You see yourself all wrong. You’re enigmatic, yes, but you’re so many things that most people would kill to be. You walk into a room and the world stops spinning. Everyone notices you. You own the room—you infuse it. People want to be like you, Kestrel. You command, yet you do it in a non-controlling way. It’s a talent most people don’t have. You’re a leader. You don’t notice it because you’re working the crowd. But I noticed it. You don’t give yourself credit for any of this.”

  Total silence greets me. He only keeps staring at me.

  “I’m not trying to flatter or bullshit you. And none of this has anything to do with your looks. You have a keen wit and you’re sharply intelligent. And don’t try to get out of those. I may be naive in many things, but I do recognize intelligence in others. Question. How many languages do you speak, other than Latin?”

  The slight widening of his lids lets me know I’ve hit a mark.

  “Five.”

  “Which ones?”

  “French, Spanish, Italian, Mandarin, and English, of course.”

  “Mandarin?”

  “That was Langston. He was certain the Chinese would become a major player in the international economy so he demanded we learn Mandarin. He was right about it, as he was about many business things.”

  “Which is why you have a ton of money.”

  He grabs my hands and says, “Carter, I can teach you.”

  “Mandarin?”

  He laughs. “Not that. How to make money. With the money you’re getting from both sales, let me show you how to invest and let it earn for you. It was always a game for Kolson and me, and we got really good at it. I’ll teach you the dos and the don’ts and set you up right.”

  “Sure. I’d like that.”

  “With that kind of start up money, you’ll never have to worry about it again. With the four million from the house and the other three from the lot, you’ll be set for life. I’m talking set as in you would never have to work a day in your life again.”

  “But I want to work.”

  He grabs my hands and says, “That’s not the point. Work becomes your hobby—your true love. It’s not a necessity anymore. Make sense? And that’s when you really soar. And angel, you’re going to soar. I know you will.”

  “So will you, Kestrel.”

  “I’ve soared more since I’ve met you than I have in my entire life.” Then he kisses me and I want to
stay this way forever.

  We ultimately make it to bed, curled around each other, and I let out a tiny giggle.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “We only talked and never really touched. Or had sex.”

  “Mmm. But we’re touching now. And I love to feel you all up against me.”

  “Yes.”

  His fingers lace with mine and we fall asleep together.

  ***

  The next couple of weeks pass and Kestrel and I see each other for quick meals and occasionally we spend the night together. He travels a lot, setting up business deals, and I’m so excited about work, I find myself at the lab until nine or ten at night. Thanksgiving looms ahead and StrongMeds takes over my life. But my joy is so great because of what is happening with my research that I’m okay with it. Winston Miles comes with two of the leading scientists, Drs. Ling and Korchov, and we complete the final paperwork for filing the patents on the processes I am using. Dr. Ling also agrees that we need to search for a way to protect the engineered cell from lysis. That’s what I’m working on now, with the assistance of another scientist from StrongMeds. It’s all I can think about because we are so close to this amazing breakthrough.

 

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