Queen of Men: King Maker Series Book 2
Page 15
“We?”
“Stop deflecting,” he said.
“And the makeup…” I trailed off, remembering the TV image of Kalen with the heiress. I’d only caught the briefest of views, but it wasn’t something I could forget. Her hair had been black. “The woman in the pictures. Is that why you were with her?”
Silently, I pleaded for that to be true.
“No. I wasn’t lying when I said I was giving you space,” he admitted.
Then it all made sense. “I’ll look like her, so when I’m going into your apartment people won’t expect it to be me.”
Something snapped inside me. The thought of another woman in his space making love to him killed a part of me. My fist connected with his chest before I let him have it with my words. “You bastard. A couple days after your declaration of love, you took her to your bed.”
He stilled my beating fist, makeup falling from the open bag to the ground. “She cares,” he said, but the she to whom he was referring was me.
“I don’t,” I answered, pulling my hands free, picked up the spilled makeup and then shoved the purse into his chest.
“I’ll drive to the airport in the morning and catch a flight to Chicago.”
I didn’t think I could afford to pay cash for a last-minute flight. But I did have an emergency credit card I hadn’t used.
“Whoever it is will follow you.”
“It doesn’t matter. Isn’t that the point, to draw them away from my family?” I spat.
“Fine. We leave together.” He shoved the purse back at me. “You and all that fuckable red hair will leave, and if someone is watching they’ll take the bait. But when you get to the airport, you’ll find one of those family bathrooms tucked away somewhere and change your appearance.”
“No,” I declared. “I’m not running scared.”
“Then I’ll follow you wherever you go.”
“What about your son?” I said, checkmating him.
He stopped for a moment, probably taking stock of what I’d said.
“He’s protected,” he said finally. “But know this, lass. For no other woman would I leave him. Only for you.”
Though I still didn’t allow myself to believe him, I took the purse because he wasn’t going to let me go without it.
“I have to go check on my sister Mary,” I said.
“I’m coming.”
I shook my head. “I’ll go to Vi’s and have Steven walk with me. She’s not that far. You can watch me from the porch if you want.”
He said nothing but followed me outside. The moon was hidden, so it was true dark. Still, there was a vague shape of my sister’s house off in the distance.
“Goodnight,” I said and glanced over at Turner’s door.
I wondered how much he’d heard. Then again, it wasn’t like he had a TV or radio to drown out our conversation. So all of it, I assumed.
Before I could get off the porch, Kalen said, “You could always come back and we could finish what we started before.”
An invisible yes neon sign lit up in the vicinity of my crotch area, but I didn’t stop, knowing I would likely give in to his offer.
Twenty-Nine
Self-preservation was high on my “to-do” list. I found myself jogging most of the way to my sister’s house.
When I entered, she sat alone in the kitchen.
“Where’s Steven?” I asked.
She pointed toward their room. “He’s asleep. Fire or not, there is work to be done in the morning.”
I nodded.
A faint hint of a smile grew on one side of her face. “So he’s the guy?” She waited for me to answer. “The visitor?”
I sighed. “He’s the guy.”
“Well damn, Bailey.”
My eyes widened. I’d never heard my sister say one foul word.
She waved me off. “Don’t act like you’ve never said it. Besides, he’s handsome.”
That was an understatement.
“Two good-looking guys. What are you going to do?”
“Leave and you should come with me,” I said.
“You’re leaving with Kalen—Jeremy? Whatever his name is.”
I ignored that and got right to the point.
“I’m pretty sure the fire is my fault.”
It was her turn to look shocked. “The trouble in New York.”
“Yes. I don’t want anything worse to happen. And Father suggested you go with me.”
Her jaw stayed unhinged. “What, and leave Steven?”
“If Steven loves you and has nothing to hide, he’ll go with you. You don’t belong here any more than I do.”
Everything Father had said made sense.
“And what would we do there?” she asked dryly.
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know about Steven, but you can bake.”
“Yeah, like that’s hard.”
She had no idea.
“I can’t bake,” I said.
“You can if you put some effort into it.”
I shook my head. “I’m not going to argue with you. You can make a life there. Father’s offered to pay for you to go to baking school or cooking school, whatever they call it.”
“No fooling?”
My head rocked side to side.
Hers did the opposite. “I’m not going anywhere.”
My vision narrowed. “What?”
“Not without talking to my husband.”
I couldn’t blame her for that.
“I get it, but I can’t stay,” I pleaded. “I’m leaving in the morning.”
“I’m not going without Steven,” she said firmly and stood. “Thank you for talking with Father. Though I may not love it, I do like my life here.”
I smiled at her, and she turned and went into her bedroom. I’d forgotten to ask about Mary. If she wasn’t staying here, she most likely was staying with one of her friends.
According to my father’s wishes, I was to make peace. With little time left, I wasn’t sure that was possible. It was too late to call on her.
I sat at the table and closed my eyes. Before Kalen had shown up at the dance, I had settled with my decision. Or was I settling?
Both men would be desirable to any woman. Handsome and sensual. Even though they were different, they possessed some of the same qualities.
My love for Turner had stood the test of time. He was solid. Someone I could trust who would never do anything to break my heart.
Everything with Kalen was new and exciting. It was akin to the budding of first love. It held mysteries still left to unravel.
Still, I grew certain of what I was going to do.
A thunderous boom and a flash of lightning pierced the night. A second later, the sound of an assaulting rain drowned out everything else. I sat there for a few minutes before deciding to head to bed.
Just as I got to my feet, the door opened, letting in a fierce wind and blowing rain. I was caught in the blast, my face dotted with raindrops.
A sloshing mass of a wet man stepped through the door, pitch blackness behind him. I looked toward my sister’s closed door and heard no movement in the short silence.
The figure glanced in that direction before turning intense eyes on me. My sister was fine. I was the one in danger.
He stomped forward, the storm masking the noise of his footsteps. I backed up, unwilling to be in a defenseless position when he faced me not a foot away.
His beautiful face was plastered with wet hair. I was unable to stop my hand from pushing the limp strands from his face. I cupped his cheek and stared at my expression in the pools of his eyes that danced in the light of the fire. He leaned into my touch.
Silently, I felt his determination for me to choose him. It broke the wall I’d erected around my emotions and carefully hidden heart.
The rain that dripped down my face mixed with tears as I accepted what was to come next. I stepped into him slowly. When we were flush, I stood on my toes and kissed first one cheek then the other.
My fingers moved from his face down the hard plains of his chest and down to the top of his pants. I tugged the offending article of clothing free of them. Droplets of water sprang out, and I managed with his help to get his shirt over his head.
His hands reached around my neck and began to undo the buttons at my back. When he finished, he parted the fabric, separating it to my shoulders, freeing my arms. I stood exposed in a manufactured bra from the waist up as my skirt clung obstinately to my hips.
Next, I managed to undo the front flat of his pants. With one good push, they fell with the speed of gravity to hit the floor, creating a puddle of fabric and water. At the same time, his cock sprang free, giving little doubt that his intention matched mine.
His hand reached back up to my neck and his fingertips glided down my back, to pop the clasp on my bra with expertise. Letting my arms hang at my sides, it fell to my feet. I shivered as much from the coolness of his damp fingers as the touch itself. He pushed my dress and my underwear down as one. They hit the floor with a silent splat.
As a unit we took two steps back away from the clothing that had confined us moments before. His lips touched mine as our bodies melded together and he continued to dance us back to the rug in front of the fire.
My hands went to his shoulders and pressed down, letting him know my objective. He surprised me by lifting me up. Hands urged me up to wrap my legs around his waist, trapping his rock-hard cock against my core to create delicious pressure.
My orgasm was so close it could be counted down beginning with “T minus ten” for liftoff and we hadn’t really begun yet.
Too much sexual tension had been building that needed release.
Unfortunately for me, we hadn’t ended up against the wall, which had become a favorite position of mine. Instead, he knelt with me still wrapped around him.
When my back met the rough tread of the rug, I barely registered it. My arms wove around his neck, drawing him in for a real kiss, the prelude to everything to come. He tongue fucked me with all the promise of what was to come. I relaxed my legs, giving him room to push inside me in the most exquisite way.
He had different ideas. He trailed a line of hot kisses down my neck to my collarbone, only to continue to a breast. He suckled it and I bit my tongue, knowing we were not alone in the house.
The idea of us getting caught only heightened every sensation as I arched my back off the floor. He paid homage to the other breast, eliciting the same response. When his hands trailed down my sides, along with more kissing and licking, I squirmed with the oncoming penetrating sensations.
Pay dirt happened when he played tic-tac-toe down the center of my body. First was the capturing of my clit with his lips and a gentle nip with his teeth. Then his tongue thrust inside me, making me rise up on my elbows to look down at him. When his tongue flicked a little lower, my head fell back, nearly cracking the floor. His fingers moved inside my core while his tongue continued to tease an area I wasn’t sure I’d make available to anyone else. I couldn’t think very well past the pleasure.
His thumb teased that entrance, and my body grew wetter still. His tongue moved back as if eager to lap up all I had to offer. Just when I was about to call out and beg him to fill me with his length, I held in a moan as I rode out my orgasm. His fingers worked in and out, drawing out my release.
When I could no longer hold myself up to watch this magnificent man’s magic, he rose up. Muscles corded with his movement as he crawled to place the head of his shaft at my opening. Slowly, he pushed inside me.
My cry was stifled by his kiss. Thankfully, the storm outside continued to rage on and provided the cover we needed. But neither one of us seemed to care that my sister or her husband could walk in on us.
I tasted my orgasm on his tongue and that strangely wound me up again. I rocked my hips, urging him forward, but he took his time. His eyes were closed tight and our kissing stopped, as he seemed to be holding back as if memorizing this moment.
When the tip of him hit the end of me, there was a confusing moment between pleasure and pain. He pulled back, not as slow, but not fast either, before he moved back in. It was like he was being careful, but I didn’t want or need that. I bucked my hips a couple of times before his eyes opened wide and he began moving in earnest. Rolling his hips, he dragged the tip of himself against that spot deep inside that made me thrash.
Although his pace had picked up, I was in need of something faster and harder. I met his thrust, trying to force his pace when he finally broke and gave me what I wanted. He thrust in me with purpose, hard and deep, hard and deep, his eyes colored in the amber light from the fire that crackled beside us. I came again, and it seemed to last a lifetime. Just when the waves that crested over me began to subside, he came in a guttural thrust.
When he went limp on top of me, it was only a moment before he rolled so we lay side by side. Still inside me, he kissed me with a sweetness that didn’t match the furious lovemaking seconds before.
But there in his arms, I finally found the peace that had evaded me for days.
When I woke, he was on his back with me tucked at his side. He’d covered us with the afghan from the couch, but I still shivered. The fire had burned down to nearly embers, leaving a distinct chill in the air. I got up to get a blanket from the room I’d been using. I snagged the first piece of clothing I came across, his still damp shirt. But without much light, I didn’t want to search and be caught naked.
After grabbing the blanket, I draped it over him before listening at my sister’s door. The faint sounds of breathing could be heard. I wasn’t sure of the time, as the sky was still dark, due to night or cloud cover, I wasn’t sure.
I crept back over to the man who had loved me in ways I would never forget. I stared at him a second longer before peeling off his soggy shirt. I began to dress, putting on my bra and panties, then my dress before adding another log and kindling to the dying fire.
Then I picked up his clothes and draped them over the side of a chair nearest to the hearth to help dry them. He hadn’t stirred, whereas I felt restless.
I struggled with what I’d done. I didn’t regret it, only the fallout to come. I walked out the back. The rain had ended sometime in the night. It was very cold and the reality I needed. Snow was falling lightly as the midnight sky began to lighten to a storm cloud day as the sun began its appearance on the horizon.
I thought about the man inside and my tears burned hot paths down my face. My tears weren’t only for him. I cried for the other man who would never forgive me when he found out what I’d done. Whereas I’d wanted so badly to stay in that bubble in time and not face the truth of the day.
The need he’d come to me with couldn’t only be answered with a choice. Any choice had the potential of breaking me, but I made it anyway. I hoped we’d all be able to live with that decision. There was no forgiveness for this transgression.
My steps made lasting impressions in the new fallen snow. A gentle breeze moved what was left of the unharvested cornfield to sway as if in a dance. The sounds that played through the abandoned stalks left to feed the animals were its own melody. It sang of love and loss, no right or wrong.
When the rays of the day fully emerged from its slumbering, penetrating the heavy clouds, light created a beam across the fields. I turned to go face the song of betrayal that awaited me.
A swishing sound had me looking back.
Thirty
Kalen
Everything was wet as I stared around the room. I’d walked in and found the house empty. Bailey was gone and the door to her room had its own mind when it broke free of my hand and banged open as I searched for her.
Turner walked in minutes later, all innocent. I asked in a volume that could wake the dead, “Where is she?”
“Huh?” he said with utter confusion.
My mind raced with possibilities I didn’t want to consider. I checked my rage and said again, “Where is Bailey?’
“I don’t know?” he uttered, sounding puzzled.
Had he said, she changed her mind, she’s not leaving with you, I might have pummeled him. We both looked at the wet clothes spread out on a chair and the lass’ bonnet left near a pile of blankets near the fire. Neither of us acknowledged the fact, though there weren’t many possibilities for how Bailey had spent her night.
Having never been in love before, the tightness in my chest first made me think heart attack. It may have been out of the norm for someone my age, but not impossible.
“Did she leave?” Turner asked, disappointment etched on his face.
“Or did she just run?” From the both of us, I thought.
I’d told the lass I’d loved her and asked her if she’d understood. Though I’d done it in Gaelic, maybe somehow she had.
“It’s early, but maybe she went to help with morning chores at her parents’ house.”
I shook my head. “No, she knew we had to leave this morning.” Then I just said it. “She must have run,” I whispered the words, but he’d heard them anyway.
“No, she promised she wouldn’t,” he said but didn’t look convinced.
“But that’s what she does,” I said. “She ran from you, she ran from Scott, and then she ran from me.”
I watched him as he put the pieces together. “We need to check if her car is still here.”
No other words were needed. There was still an undercurrent of unease. We practically ran to the other side of the community to the security station. My daily workout sessions had paid off. I was barely breathing heavy when we came to the brick building to find my sports car and another.
“That’s her car.” He looked over at mine. “You know she’s not impressed by money,” he declared before heading inside the building that was the only halfway modern-looking one in this whole compound. I followed after I patted my side to find I’d left my bag at Turner’s.
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