The song he’d written as much for Oliver as he had for himself. “It is.” The words had poured out of him before he even met with Tad Dugan, but the music had taken longer. After a lot of long nights, the band finally had a finished product they were proud of. And Isaac knew when he stood onstage tomorrow and sang it, he could finally say everything he’d needed to for five long years.
“First stop, Grace.” Nick was rubbing his hands together as he turned to their driver, eager to give the man Grace’s address. If his best friend didn’t cool the excitement over meeting Isaac’s “little sister,” Isaac might have to pull his chain.
But for now, they had other business. “Nick…” Isaac’s throat felt tight, choking off the words he needed to get out. “I have a stop to make first.”
His friend glanced in the rearview mirror again, concern in his gaze. Isaac appreciated it, but he’d been living with that look on far too many faces since he’d decided to come home. He couldn’t handle the burden anymore. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a slip of paper and passed it to the driver. “Take us here, please. Nick, would you let the band know we’ll meet them at Grace’s?”
Grace and Oliver’s parents had died two years ago in a boating accident. Grace had inherited their estate and had offered rooms for Isaac and his mates to stay.
Disappointment lit in Nick’s eyes, but so did understanding. “Of course.”
While Nick made his phone call, Isaac turned to wrap Kennedy in his arms.
“Where we going?” she asked quietly, just between the two of them.
“To the beach.”
She lifted her face to his. He braced himself for more concern, more worry, more responsibility on his shoulders that he couldn’t think he could carry right now. What he got was the featherlight brush of her lips across his. She was his spitfire, one hundred percent full-bore, driven energy unless she was in his ropes—and even then she surrendered as fully as she pursued life. Her tenderness at a time when he was afraid he might break shook him hard.
“Whatever you need,” she whispered.
The rest of the ride was quiet. When the driver reached their destination, Isaac directed him to pull up to a sidewalk lining the street. The cove where he and Oliver had spent so much time together as boys was private, attached to a stretch of public beach on the outskirts of town. Only the families that lived above the cove were allowed to use it, and one of those families was his.
Once the car was parked, Isaac grasped the door handle. “Any chance I can get you to take Kennedy to Grace’s?” he asked Nick.
“No!”
Kennedy and Nick answered at the same time. Isaac smirked. “Right. I’ll be back.”
“Isaac.”
One foot out of the car, he turned back. Nick handed him the ball cap his friend had worn on the plane to block light while he slept. “Keep it on.”
“Will do, mate.”
He gave Kennedy a quick, hard kiss and was out the door before he could stop himself.
The breeze was cool, a shocking contrast to the heat they’d left behind in Vegas. Isaac focused on the chill taking over his skin as he traversed the length of the beach. Anything to keep his thoughts off the memories banging at the door of his brain, demanding to be let in. He watched the sand shift beneath his shoes when the sidewalk ended, refusing to look up, to unleash the emotion inside him. Only when the cliffs surrounding the cove began to block out the light did he finally stop.
Raising his head, he traced the path from his feet to the shore to the waves breaking just past the entrance to the cove. Echoes of the laughter of two young boys rang in his ears. The smell of smoke from the campfires they’d lit as teens. The chill of seawater that wasn’t quite warm enough for swimming but was too much temptation for the kids they’d been. So many memories. So much time lost because of a decision Oliver had made without him. Why? Because some dick hadn’t seen what a great guy he was? Because Isaac hadn’t been available enough to help his friend through the breakup?
Why? For Christ’s sake, why?
He hadn’t realized he was yelling the words until they caught in his throat, a victim of the tears choking him. He’d expected his anger to surface the moment he returned to their childhood haunt, maybe guilt at not being there, maybe a mix of things, but all he felt was…incredible, unbearable sadness. Oliver was gone. Truly gone. He had made his choice, only it was those of them left behind that had to live with it.
Before he realized what he was doing, Isaac bent to untie his shoes. He set them safely aside, then his socks. Slipped out of his jeans and T-shirt, leaving him in dark boxer briefs. Already shivering, he removed the cap, dropped it on the pile at his feet, and walked toward the water. Had Oliver felt the chill? Had the sand torn at his feet? Had that first shock of water made him wonder if he was making the right decision?
Isaac sucked in a breath as the cold water went from ankles to knees to thighs. He shook uncontrollably when it reached his shoulders, not because of the temperature, but because of the emotion inside him. The agony raging in his chest, threatening to tear him apart. The sorrow weighing like cement blocks on his soul. As he took that last step and allowed the water to cover his head, enveloping him, he thought of Oliver, of what it had taken for his friend to go this far—and swore he heard his mate laughing once more, carefree. Happy. Whole.
I love you, brother. I forgive you.
∞
“What in the world happened to you?”
Isaac gathered the petite blonde against his chest, careful to avoid pressing her against too many wet spots. “How you doing, Grace?”
Intense blue eyes glared up at him. “You didn’t answer my question.”
He knew that, but he couldn’t talk about it, not yet. “Later, okay?” He turned, gesturing Kennedy forward. It was the first time he’d ever presented a woman to someone he considered family, but he wasn’t nervous. “This is Kennedy O’Connell.”
Grace turned that same serious gaze on Kennedy, eyeing the way Isaac reached for her, the way Kennedy went straight into his arms despite the state of his clothes. An approving smile finally lit her face. “Kennedy, a pleasure.”
Kennedy offered her hand; Grace hmphed and drew her into a warm hug.
“I’d like to change real quick,” he said. “Am I in my old bedroom?”
“Of course; where else would I dare put you?” Grace waved a hand toward the staircase that filled the center of the enormous entryway. “Just don’t linger.”
“If Kennedy’s going with him, lingering is guaranteed,” Nick said from behind them.
Grace’s eyes went wide. She peered around Isaac. When her gaze landed on Nick, she blushed. “Nick.”
“In the flesh. Finally.” His grin hinted at something Isaac was definitely going to have to put a stop to. Later. Right now his friend was the perfect distraction, so perfect that Grace and Nick didn’t even seem to notice as Isaac sneaked Kennedy up the stairs and out of sight.
“That was easy.” Kennedy chuckled as she followed him toward the back wing of the house, the one that had held the nursery and then, as Oliver and Grace had grown, become the teen hangout.
“Too easy. Nick better keep his hands off my sister.”
The chuckle became a full-blown laugh. “I’m sure Vinny was thinking the same thing about you when I called to talk to him. Look how that turned out.”
He jerked to a stop, feeling the blood drain from his face. No way in hell. “What?”
Kennedy kept walking. “Come on, Daddy. Grace is a big girl. And so am I,” she said, throwing a look over her shoulder.
She was right on both counts; he knew that, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Still, it might take a while to get used to the idea of Grace and Nick together. Maybe years.
In the meantime… A grin took over his face as he hurried after Kennedy.
His room wasn’t the same. Sometime in the past five years the child-size furniture had been replaced with a masculine, adult bedroo
m set, one that fit him to a T. Grace knew his tastes well. Kennedy set her carry-on on the bed. Isaac used a nearby chair, opening his suitcase to grab fresh clothes. When he turned, Kennedy had gone serious.
“Do you want to tell me?”
Not what happened? She was giving him the option. But it was simply too soon, too much to share, even with the person he considered himself closest to. “I can’t.”
“Okay.” She reached for his hand. “Shower, then?”
Even with all that had happened earlier, a kick of desire hit his gut. He guessed it always would with her. “Definitely.”
Kennedy gave him a wink as she rounded the bed. “Are we taking cuffs or something?” she asked lightly, purposefully drawing his smile as she led him this time, toward the bathroom. “Is this a kinky shower or no?”
With everyone waiting downstairs? He groaned. “No kink, Sassy. You know we don’t have time for that.” But the image was already in his head: Kennedy with her hands secured over her head, nothing but the two of them and the water and the shock wave of hunger that always hit them when they were together. Concerns about time did a slow slide into the background.
“Oh really?” Moving farther into the spacious bathroom, she grabbed the hem of her shirt and raised it, way too slowly for his liking, over her head. Her spine arched as she reached to open her bra, and then her back was bare. And her front, though he couldn’t see that yet.
“Tease,” he growled.
Her pants were next. When she bent to remove her shoes before kicking her jeans away, she gave him a perfect view of how aroused she already was. He choked.
“Are you coming?” She pulled the glass door of the shower open.
“Is that really even a question?” They’d both come if he had any say about it, and since he was the Dom…
“You’re still dressed,” she pointed out, then disappeared inside.
A curse escaped. He began tearing at his clothes, but he couldn’t move fast enough. By the time he stepped inside, he was hard and dripping and pretty damn certain time wouldn’t be an issue after all.
And then he looked up.
“Holy fuck.”
Kennedy stood beneath the showerhead, water raining down her sleek skin, her arms stretched high to grasp the pipe where the showerhead attached to the wall. Closing the door behind him, he stood there for a moment, just looking, soaking in the sight of her. Her long legs. The curve of her hips that seemed made for his hands. The flat expanse of her belly, the perfect cushion for his aching cock. The height of the pipe forced her to reach, lifted her breasts as if offering them to him, a gift he couldn’t wait to devour.
And that’s exactly what she was, all of her. A gift.
“What do you think, sir?” she asked, that vixen glint he couldn’t get enough of in her eyes. “Will this do?”
He took the three steps toward her slowly, trying to clear his throat, to swallow down the surge of emotion he couldn’t quite control. But there was no controlling it. That was Kennedy’s lesson for him, the light she’d shed on his life. Sometimes the worst—and the best—things were beyond a person’s control. And that was okay.
He stopped when their bodies brushed, tipped her chin up until those startling green eyes met his. “Kennedy.”
Worry stared back at him. She dropped her arms. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is this too much after this morning? I’m—”
Needing her as close as he could get, he lifted her into his arms. Her words cut off, her legs coming up to grip his waist, helping to steady them until her back met the tile wall. Their kiss scorched his senses, hotter than the drops raining down on their skin, sealing them together in a way that confirmed the single thought swirling in his head. The thought he needed to let out.
He broke away. “Ken.”
Her eyes were dazed, her mouth puffy from his kiss. Christ, he needed her.
“Hmm?”
“I love you.”
“What?”
He had to laugh. He’d never imagined that telling a woman he loved her could be a time for laughter, but with Kennedy it was. “I love you. Don’t tell me you didn’t know that.”
She bit her lip. Nodded, eyes wide.
Keeping one hand steady on her hip, he raised the other to dig into the red hair he loved so much. “Maybe that was too abrupt. I can do better.”
“Better than ‘I love you’?”
She seemed skeptical, which meant, of course, that he had to prove himself. Settling her carefully on her feet, he took a step back, gathered both her hands in his, and stared deep into her eyes. “Kennedy.”
“Yes,” she croaked.
He kept his smile inside this time. “I’ve spent five years trying to keep people at arms’ length, refusing to let them too deep inside where they could hurt me. You…you could destroy me, but I don’t want to keep you out. I want you, all the way, so deep inside me that we’ll never find the ends of ourselves apart from each other. I love you.”
Kennedy choked on a cry. A tear trickled down her cheek. “What the hell, Isaac? That’s…”
He quirked a brow. “Good enough?”
She growled and lunged for him. This kiss was just as hot as the first, but deeper, stronger. Because he loved her. And he was never letting go.
“I love you too,” she whispered against his lips when he finally released her.
“I know.”
She smacked his chest, but her laughter spilled out anyway. The sound sent a tingle down his spine to his balls.
He moved back.
“Now,” he said, letting his voice drop to that Dom register she always responded to, “grab that pipe.”
Without hesitation, she did.
“Ready?” he asked.
The most beautiful smile lit her face. “Yes, sir.”
With those two words, everything settled inside him. This was right; he needed this, his Kennedy, his lover, his sub. He wanted it, wanted her, desperately. Not just her body, but her love, her light. Because sometimes control was impossible, but sometimes…sometimes it was not only possible, it was too damn fun. And they were about to have a helluva lot of fun.
∞
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Before you go…
Anything can happen in the shadows of a hot Southern night…
Explore the heat and danger in Ella’s SOUTHERN NIGHTS series, starting with:
TEACH ME
Southern Nights 1
Private security has never been so risky—or so tempting.
Ex-military security specialist Conlan James avoids commitment like the plague. His job, his Harley, and an occasional one-night stand are all he needs—or so he tells himself. But after he rescues Jess from a tense situation, he can’t get the shy, sexy brunette out of his mind. He can teach her self-defense, but can he shield his own scarred heart?
Southern belle Jess Kingston spent eight weeks healing from an ex-boyfriend’s brutal attack. Now she’s ready to put her life back together. Her ex, Brit, has other ideas. She needs someone who can teach her how to fight back—someone like the tough former soldier who rides to her rescue.
As the deadly game of cat-and-mouse intensifies, the heat between Con and Jess becomes an inferno. He’ll do anything to keep her safe. She’ll do anything to survive. Her vengeful ex is determined to destroy them both, and all it would take is one wrong move.
* * * One-click your copy of TEACH ME for FREE right now! * * *
∞
Chapter One
What the hell are you doing here?
This wasn’t the first time in the last five minutes that Conlan had asked himself the same question. Maybe if he had an answer, the revolving door in his brain would stop spinning, but that didn’t seem likely. Not anytime soon. Not with the beautiful brunette he’d come to see sitting close enough that, if he let himself look, he could detect the light dusting of freckles a
cross her nose. But he wasn’t looking, and he shouldn’t be here, so how had he ended up standing in line behind the thirtysomething latte league? It sure as hell wasn’t for the coffee.
Legs braced wide, he shifted from one hip to the other, the creak of his motorcycle chaps reminding him he could be enjoying a few extra minutes on the Harley before work instead of spending that precious time here, mooning over a woman. Doe Eyes. The first time he’d seen her all those months ago, he’d thought her eyes reminded him of sweet Georgia pecans and skittish does. The name stuck, as had the memory of her eyes—and a hundred other glimpses he shouldn’t have taken.
Another name called, another latte dispensed, another shuffle forward.
He hadn’t seen those eyes in eight weeks, and yet still he’d shown up every Monday, like clockwork, hoping for one more glimpse and calling himself an idiot. Wasn’t like he planned on asking her out. So why the hell did he torture himself with these weekly forays into enemy territory?
Sex. Or sex appeal, at least.
Another step closer to the counter. The move didn’t ease the constriction behind the zipper of his jeans. This was what she did to him, thinking about her. Especially now, after so long apart.
The thought had a snort escaping. Ahead of him, Mr. Suit and Tie startled and glanced over a shoulder, but Conlan ignored the look. He was too busy figuring out when “this” had become enough like a relationship in his head that he would think things like “after so long apart.” Doe Eyes might appear prominently in his thoughts from time to time—especially certain times—but he’d never seen her outside of this coffee shop. And he wouldn’t. A quick roll in the hay was one thing, but Doe Eyes wasn’t the kind of woman who had one-night stands. He could tell that much just by looking at her. She was a relationship kind of woman, and he was a relationship-phobic kind of guy. Which meant he seriously needed to get a grip—and not on the part of him growing even harder at the idea.
Only for the Moment Page 15
