Kira struggled to hold the ledge. He was entirely in her now, stretching her, filling her completely. Then he withdrew and the void was unbearable. With each penetration, he claimed her fully. The power and momentum built and she was taken to a new place as the entire world fell away. The driving force between her legs consumed her. His power pushed her to a frenzied state once more. She gripped the wet ledge more tightly; he lifted her off the ground with each thrust. Water cascaded down around them. His moaning was deep and guttural now. She felt him tighten his grip. He’s so close. His ragged state fuels her. She was overtaken by his relentless assault and surrendered into a shattering orgasm. Her release sent spasms around his thick cock, and instantly his body went rigid as his fervent need was satisfied. He contracted and shuddered, coming apart inside her. Leaning back against the wall, he held her to him.
“I guess we’d better get moving before we miss dinner entirely,” Stark said, willing himself to move. He felt complete in this moment and hated to break away from it. “Of course, I have already eaten,” he added playfully as he finished washing and stepped out of the shower.
“Mmm, I guess you have,” she responded, smiling. Her eyes were bright. The whole world was alive and seemed to be spinning slightly. Kira hurried to finish her shower and get ready. When she stepped into the bedroom Stark had already gone downstairs. OK, what do I have to wear? Kira cursed herself for not taking time to pack more sexy clothing. Frantically, she dug through her bag. She finally decided on her new slate-gray Prada sweater. It had been her treat to herself for actually having a paying job in medicine. She loved the way it felt and hoped Stark would like it, too. She found her favorite Ralph Lauren jeans. She’d had these for several years, but they had that timeless worn look that was cool and sexy without trying. Kira loved these jeans. She had found them in a thrift shop while she was in undergrad. While to everyone else, they looked like designer jeans, to her they were as comfortable as her favorite sweats. As she sat on the bed to fasten her tall boots, her mind wandered to the colossal mistake that she and Stark were making. What am I doing? By the time we go back I have to find the strength to end this. There’s a reason he doesn’t have a steady girlfriend. There is a reason I can’t get involved with anyone here. Kira’s heart ached at the thought, which made her even more determined to end this nonsense before it went any farther. She took the time to dry her hair and put on the slightest bit of makeup. Who are you kidding? She laughed at herself, as she stood looking in the mirror. Her cheeks heated at the memory of him taking her in this very spot. How will I ever walk away?
Stark came downstairs to let Kira finish getting ready. He knew staying up there would not end with going out to dinner. Sitting and watching her would prove much too tempting for him to resist. He shook his head to clear his wicked thoughts and reached for the phone.
“Rob McCormick, please. Tell him it’s Owen Stark.” Stark waited patiently for the reluctant maître d’ to find his old friend.
“Owen Stark, is that really you?” the familiar voice asked. “How the hell have you been?”
“Really well, the last few days anyway,” Stark answered, smiling. “How have you been? I heard you’re the big chef in town now.”
“Where are you? Are you in town?” his friend asked hopefully.
“Yeah, we got in last night. Did some skiing today. We were thinking of stopping in to see you for dinner.”
“Looking forward to it. I’ll have a table ready. It’s not like you to call just for dinner. This a special occasion or what?” Rob asked.
“Or what. I’ve got someone I’d like you to meet. We’ll be there around eight-thirty. See you then, man.” Stark hung up before his old friend could press for more information and looked up in time to see Kira coming down the steps. His breath caught for a moment. He could hardly believe the svelte vision before him was actually real and his. He smiled up at her like a kid who had just gotten everything he wished for Christmas, and Kira beamed back at him.
Holy shit! she thought as she descended the stairs, looking at the striking specimen of a man waiting for her. He was wearing dark jeans that accentuated his muscular thighs. He had on an olive Henley that hugged his chest, just enough to remind her of what lay beneath, and a blazer. He looked rugged and sexy as hell. Soldier sex-god for sure! Kira giggled and bit her lip, trying to keep her wicked thoughts in check long enough to have dinner.
“You look good enough to eat,” Stark said playfully, smacking her on the ass as she walked past him.
“I thought you got enough of that earlier,” she said, feigning disapproval.
“I’ll never get enough of you,” he growled wickedly, “but we do have a reservation for dinner if you’re ready. I’ll get your coat.” Stark helped Kira with her coat and led her out to the warming truck. He walked close to her, resting his hand at the small of her back. When they reached the truck, he stepped ahead quickly to open her door.
“Aren’t you the gentleman?” she mocked, grinning as she stepped up. Stark cupped her ass in his hand giving her a boost into the truck.
“Just making sure you don’t fall,” he said innocently.
Before they pulled out he started his iPod. She instantly liked the music, but wasn’t sure she was familiar with the group. “Who is this?” The sound was mix of folk or bluegrass, but the group sounded possibly English.
“Mumford and Sons. I had the chance to hear them in New Zealand. They’re great.”
Kira sat back, watching the snowdrifts and distant mountains out the window. She let the sweet melody take her, the soft guitar and mandolin, a man singing of past ghosts being driven away by a new hope. She stared out at the snow and wondered if there could be hope for them.
“Hey, we’re here. This is The Little Nell. You’re going to love Montagna,” He had the eager boyish grin on his face again and Kira couldn’t help but smile.
The Little Nell was a breathtaking village. There were homes and a hotel, but all the structures were reminiscent of an eclectic German village. It was exactly what she had pictured when she thought of Aspen. The Montagna was busy, a definite hot spot for tourists and locals alike. They were greeted immediately. Stark gave his name and the maître d’ lit up.
“Right this way, sir. Mr. McCormick has a special table reserved for you,” he gushed as he led them through the study, past a roaring fire in the main dining area. They arrived at an intimate corner table by a large window. He pulled out a chair for Kira by the window with a perfect view of the mountains and the fireplace. Stark chose to sit in the corner beside Kira, rather than across from her. Like her father, Stark had to sit where he could see the perimeter fully. Always on alert, she thought sadly. She remembered being in awe of that trait when she was younger. But in the end, it hadn’t mattered. He had died anyway.
Stark ordered a bottle of wine. “The wine list here is extensive,” he said, turning to her after the waiter had left them. “The food is incredible. Rob does an exquisite job. I think you will really like this place.” They were just starting to look at the menu when a man wearing chef’s attire came bounding over to the table. He was tall and very handsome. Stark stood to greet his friend, shaking hands and slapping each other hard on the back.
“Good to see you!” Rob said emphatically. “How long has it been?”
“Too long. Rob, I would like you to meet my girlfriend, Kira. Kira this is Rob McCormick, the best chef in Aspen. Hell, he’s the best chef in Colorado.”
Girlfriend! Kira’s heart raced. She blushed and managed a polite hello. Girlfriend. Her stomach was suddenly in knots. Yes, they had just spent the last day and a half fucking each other silly, but they couldn’t officially date. He’s lost his mind. But Kira liked the way it sounded. Owen Stark’s girlfriend. Oh yes, I like that. Suddenly she realized just how much she wanted it to be true.
CHAPTER 6
Kira sat glued to her seat, speechless as the truck drove noiselessly over the snow. The silence in the truck was deafen
ing. How could I have been so insensitive? Why did I have to push him for information there? Dinner was going so perfectly. Damn it! Kira’s mind raced back to the exquisite dinner and the perfect evening it had started out to be. Stark had called her his girlfriend. She had been elated. The two men, obviously enjoying their reunion, sauntered down memory lane. They talked about growing up, old flames, their parents, and then Maggie. Kira’s interest had been piqued immediately, as she was dying to know more about his sister and what had happened to the beautiful family from the pictures. The appetizers had arrived, a seafood ceviche that was a composite of bright colors and smelled so fresh and tangy that Kira had been, for an instant, distracted from her quest. The beet, fennel, and citrus salad was fresh as well, the cilantro awakening but not overpowering. As they savored the delicious flavors, Kira had plotted how to move forward.
“Tell me about her, your sister. What was she like?” Kira started cautiously.
At first, Stark had been reluctant, again not wanting to talk about his past, but Kira was persistent. “I can tell you loved her very much.”
“What was she like?” Kira followed. She was ready to find out. “Please, tell me about her.”
Stark had looked away for a long time into the darkness at the falling snow. He had stopped eating and seemed to be a million miles away. “She was beautiful,” he began softly. “Not just on the outside, she brightened up a room the moment she entered it. She was so bubbly and joyful. She was like that from a tiny baby.” Stark put his hand up to his chin and closed his eyes for a moment. “I was seven when she was born. I remember when they first brought her home. I wasn’t jealous of her. No, I loved her. I knew I would do anything to protect her always. She was the shining light in our house.”
They had been interrupted by wait staff clearing the appetizer, which Stark had ceased to eat. Kira briefly had the clarity of mind to let it go so they could enjoy their meal and time together. However, Stark’s next words were her undoing and she had to know more. The staff retreated, leaving a new course of a rich and satisfying gnocchi with a silky mushroom and ham sauce, and bay scallops with microgreens, possibly the highlight of the meal.
“She was just thirteen when it happened. So happy, so vibrant; my Maggie was amazing. I was so proud of her. It had started as one of the happiest days of my life, and then they were gone.” Starks voice was hollow now.
Gone? Who is gone? Maggie, but who else? Questions raced through Kira’s mind. She longed to know more about Stark. He already meant more to her than she could grasp, but he was so distant at times. It was if there was this great chasm between them, a vast space of past hurt that they both held on to.
Stark looked up from his untouched plate. His eyes betrayed the severity of emotion he struggled to contain. At once Kira was afraid she had pried too far. Perhaps this was not the time or the place, but it was too late. Stark had gone to some horrible place and there was no taking it back now.
“I was in college at the time. A sophomore,” he began slowly. “Mom and Maggie had come to visit me at school. It was to celebrate her thirteenth birthday. She and Mom flew out for the week. Mags and I had been so close when I lived at home. Even though she was seven years younger, we spent a lot of time together. She came to all my games, I went to all her meets, I picked her up from practice. I was the guy she looked up to. I kept her safe. Being home with my family that last summer was the happiest time of my life.” Stark’s voice faded but he was still deep in thought.
He picked at his food and continued. “That week we had gone to the Fine Arts Museum, the Contemporary Arts Museum, and the Boston Symphony Orchestra. She could play piano like an angel. I took her to their open rehearsals so they could hear her play. Mom and Dad hoped that she would go to Juilliard when she was older and her tutors had high hopes that she would make it.”
He stopped talking for a moment. The anguish in his face broke Kira’s heart. She knew that some things were just too painful to relive. She was so sorry for pushing him to talk, and longed to wrap him up in her arms and tell him all would be OK, but she knew it wouldn’t. His sister was gone. Something terrible had happened to the happy family from the pictures, something irretrievable, something that had left this beautiful man broken. Kira sat in dread as he continued talking.
“The last day of their visit was sunny, a perfect afternoon. We went to Boston Common, which was very close to my apartment. We walked along with the warm September sun on our faces, and I listened while she talked about her school and her friends. She giggled as she told me about the boy she was crushing on. I can’t remember his name, it’s been so long. The soft melody of her voice ebbed and flowed with her excitement. She was so full of life…”
“We were making our way around the water’s edge when suddenly she was toppled by a pile of speckled fur. I remember her on the ground, looking up at me, smiling as this dog licked her face. She was laughing. The owner of the dog ran over and apologized, and told us the dog’s name was Teddy. Mags wasn’t hurt. She ruffled his fur and spoke to him. Her laugh showed how much she liked the dog. She wanted one badly but Mom and Dad weren’t pet people, and she looked up at me with that face, the face I could never say no to. I asked the owner what kind of dog it was. He told me an Australian Shepherd. Seeing Mags’ face, I called that very moment, and found a breeder back home in San Francisco, and ordered one for her birthday present. She squealed and cried, hugging me.”
Stark paused for a long drink of his wine. “We went back after that to pick up Mom and spent that evening together watching movies. Mom told stories about when we were little and we took turns blaming each other for the mischief we had gotten into. Early the next morning, I took my girls to the airport. It had been a perfect week. I stayed with them through Logan airport to the checkpoints for security. I held them tightly and told them good-bye, told them to be safe. Maggie had a gleam in her eye as she stood there in her pink pea coat and jeans. I don’t know why that image is so burned into my head. Her dark brown hair spilled under this silly gray beret she insisted on wearing because it matched the gray boots Mom bought her. It was way too warm for September. But she didn’t care. That’s just how she was.” He gave a weak chuckle.
“She had three weeks to break the news of the puppy to Mom and Dad. She had her work cut out for her, but I had her back. I always had her back….” Stark stopped talking. He was suffering, as if he was living it all over again. When he spoke again, this time his voice was so broken Kira could feel his torment. “I watched their plane take off. I just watched them go. The plane never made it to San Francisco. That was the last time I saw my mother or my Mags. They were gone…they were all gone.” His voice trailed off into an excruciating silence that lasted the rest of dinner.
Kira struggled to say something. How can I say I am sorry? I am sorry you lost everything and everyone important in your life. Her curiosity seemed so petty and shallow now. She rode along beside him, the great chasm of darkness and silence all encompassing. She understood his reluctance to speak of it now. Her heart ached for that lost and broken young man. After what seemed like an eternity they arrived back at the house. Stark was still so quiet and she wanted to give him some space.
“I’m going to go change,” she said hesitantly.
Stark nodded his acknowledgment but didn’t answer. He walked through the empty house. The empty house that had once held his blissful family. As he walked away, she could almost hear Maggie bounding down the stairs after him, saying “Owen, wait for me!” But now there was only silence. She didn’t know where his father was, or what had happened to the rest of Stark’s once-perfect life. But she knew for certain that part of him had died. He was lost, too. As he had said, they were all gone.
Kira shut the bathroom door and let the tears fall. She cried for Stark and for his family. She hated that she had pushed him to talk about all this. She had wanted to know so badly and now she did, but at what cost? This house had to be painful for him and yet it held the on
ly remaining sense of family he had left. Kira had an overwhelming desire to go to him, hold him. She finished in the bathroom and ran down the stairs, but the house was empty. She looked all over the first floor but he wasn’t there. The flicker of light from the large deck and patio caught her eye. She looked out the large window. By the light of the fire, she could see Stark’s wrecked expression. He looked so alone, truly and utterly alone.
She shrugged on one of his large parkas and her boots. She made her way through the snow to where he stood staring into the fire. Though she didn’t have words to say, she stood beside him, wrapped her small arms around his large one and held on tightly. After a moment he wrapped his arms around her and held her to him.
“You’re not alone anymore,” she whispered. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
His eyes met hers. She could see his tear-stained face in the firelight. He pulled her closer and began to kiss her tenderly. The softness became more forceful as the intensity of his pent emotions poured through him. He hadn’t spoken of his family to anyone in so long. All the hurt and fear and anger and loss had been with him for such a long time. They were all that was left of this life. Stark held on to her like a lifeline to the man he once was. He held her small face in his hands as he kissed her deeply, and picked her up, oversized coat and all, carrying her back toward the house.
Kira felt him peel off her coat with one hand while holding her with the other arm. His strength was a little unnerving. He left the coat in a heap on the floor as they crossed the great room, still kissing her hard, his lips salty with tears. She had her arms around his neck, her hands in his thick hair. As they mounted the stairs, deft fingers discarded her sweater and bra. They crossed the landing with broad steps, his lips fully claiming hers. At once they were in his room. He dropped her onto the bed and attacked her jeans with purpose. Her need for him, to be filled with him was primal; she was wrecked with the raw emotion of his loss, and her need to heal it for him. Freeing her of her jeans, he stood over her. She surrendered willingly as he grabbed her ankles and pulled her toward the end of the bed, toward him. He pushes her legs apart and falls against her. The rough sensation of his jeans stung as they were pressed into her flesh by his immense cock. She winced at the mix of pleasure and pain. He took her wrists and held them at her sides, buried his face in her ample breasts. She gasped, feeling hot lips clasped around her nipple, sucking it in harshly. He was grinding into her, his jeans barely restraining his desire now. She needed him to be inside her.
Stark September (Stark Trilogy Book 1) Page 8
