Crimson fabric parted to pale skin. Each new inch dipped lower to expose high, beautiful breasts. The bra, he noted with some disappointment, wasn’t the one she’d bought the day before. It was a simple, cotton material in faded black, but in no way did it take away from the sight.
“Christ, you’re beautiful.” He’d meant the words to stay in his head, but they filled the kitchen in a guttural whisper.
Her chest swelled with her sharp exhale. The bit of fabric covering her strained, revealing the tight, hard outlines of her nipples. A warm flush crawled up her chest to soak into her cheeks and he followed the line with his lips from the valley between her breasts all the way up to her waiting mouth. His hands curled into the strips of material curving around her hips and he dragged her panties down her legs. She kicked them off and widened her knees.
“Lie back,” he told her, resting his hands on her thighs.
She did a quick check behind her to make sure nothing was there before reclining. Her blouse parted on either side of her like red wings. Her stomach and chest seemed to heave with every ragged breath. But Killian’s only focus was her thighs, her toned, slender thighs, the delicate color of milk. He loved her legs. Hell if he knew why. He’d never been a leg guy before. Breasts, yes. Lips, yes. But never legs. Yet hers fascinated him. He loved how they grabbed him when he was deep inside her and how they tensed and quivered when she was about to come. Her thighs said more than her entire body and it was why he always seemed to start with kissing them first.
Bending his neck, he pressed several open mouthed kisses to her inner thighs in a row up to the junction. The thick, musky scent of her arousal met him before he was even close and he felt himself harden against the front of his trousers; knowing she was already wet and ready for him always drove him crazy.
Lifting his head, he reached over and flipped the rest of her skirt up and over her stomach, baring her to the room and him. Her neatly kempt mound beckoned him. The engorged little bundle at the top peeked out from between plump, pink lips, tempting his fingers to stroke and tease. But he occupied his attention with littering kisses up and along the line of her pelvis. He nipped at her hipbones and drew just close enough to where she wanted him to make her twitch and whimper. His fingers made slow circles mere inches from her core. He let his thumb lightly brush her clit and she swore violently. Her legs jerked on either side of him.
He hadn’t been lying when he’d told her he had a thing for eating pussy. The female body had always been a weakness. But the center of a woman’s body, the apex of her pleasure had always made him curious enough to learn everything he possibly could about it. The number of past lovers was immeasurable, but they had all been a critical part of his discovery. They had all been different, but they all had one thing in common—the fact that they had a pussy. Yet none of them, not one, had tasted like Juliette. They hadn’t felt like her ether, which was understandable, because they weren’t her. With her, everything felt new, like he was learning it all from ground zero.
Carefully, he swept apart her lips to the wet, pink center. Her opening gleamed beneath the pool of her arousal. It trickled in a clear stream to the second little hole, the one he had yet to discover, but had every intention of doing so.
“Will you let me have your ass?” he wondered out loud.
“My ass?”
Gingerly, he brought a finger to the puckered rosebud already glistening and slick from her juices. He circled it once before giving just a hint of pressure.
Juliette cried out. Her hips jerked, but not to get away.
He pressed a little harder and watched her back tear off the counter. Her pussy clenched and more fluid expelled to coat his exploring fingers.
“I want to be in here,” he told her, careful to keep his voice low.
He waited for no reaction or response when lowering his head and flicking a tongue over her clit before moving down to circle her opening with just the tip. The delicious taste of her filled his mouth with every ravenous sweep. His finger continued to tease her back entrance. Her cream mixed with his saliva, creating a slippery enough lubricant to push just past the first bend in his finger. The hot, tight ring gripped him as its owner wailed. It was becoming a task holding her flailing hips steady long enough to lift his mouth to her clit. His free hand left her twitching thigh to plunge two fingers deep inside her pussy.
As multitasking went, Killian was kind of proud of himself. He was somehow able to keep her from leaping off the counter while pumping two fingers in one hole, one finger in the second hole and still maintaining a steady suction on her clit. All the while, Juliette was a writhing, screaming, incoherent mess. Her body was hot enough to cook off of and she was clawing at his head, dragging him close enough to suffocate. But he let her, because there wasn’t a fucking thing sexier than his woman lost in her own pleasure because of him.
“Do it!” she sobbed. “Do it! Do it!”
He didn’t ask what she meant. He didn’t need to.
He turned his fingers to the top of her vagina, to the wet, velvety walls and rubbed in slow, even drags against the bump.
Juliette came apart with a scream that could have shattered glass. She broke with a violence that nearly scalped him when her entire body seized. But he kept pumping and sucking right until she stopped convulsing and her sobs had calmed to pathetic whimpers. Only then did he pull free. The hands tangled in his hair dropped limply to her sides. She lay perfectly immobile except for the brutal rise and fall of her chest and the occasional jolt of her body.
Satisfied by his handiwork, Killian reached for his back pocket and pulled out his wallet and the fresh condom he’d tucked inside. But he was beginning to think he should just start carrying an entire box around with him. Grinning to himself, he tore open his pants and rolled on the rubber. Juliette was still barely coherent when he hoisted himself up on the island with her. passion glazed eyes opened a slit to peer up at him. That was all he got until he thrust up inside her. The plunge widened her eyes. She gave a weak whine as her sensitive body gripped him with a ferocity that was almost painful. Her hands flew to his hips. Her legs lifted and wound around his ribs.
“Harder,” she croaked, emphasizing her demand with the anchoring of her nails into the clenched muscles of his ass.
He was nothing if not compliant.
He fucked her. Hard.
He pounded into her until they were both drenched in sweat and crying out with release. Only then did he slump down over her, crushing her. Their bodies heaved against the others, a symphony of trembling limbs and cracking hearts. It was Juliette going rigid under him that propelled him up onto the balls of his hands to peer down at her.
She was so still, her enormous eyes the only color on her otherwise ashen complexion.
“Juliette?”
She stared up at him like the devil himself had materialized in the room. “Do you think anyone heard us?”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her the next city over probably heard them, but the horror in her eyes stopped him.
“I don’t think we were that loud,” he said instead.
She pressed a hand over her mouth. “I’d be mortified if your men…”
“They are paid very well to turn a deaf ear,” he assured her.
“Oh my God…”
“Hey.” He lowered the second hand she raised to cover her eyes. “Watching you come alive for me, fall apart for me…” He sucked in a deep breath through his nostrils. “I’m not stopping that for anyone.”
Her cheeks continued to glow an alarming red, but she no longer looked horrified. She gave him a pained little smile though, which he took as success.
“It was really nice,” she admitted.
He kissed her, long and slow. “Aye, it was.”
Drawing back, he dropped down off the island and reached for her. She landed in front of him and quickly began straightening her clothes. He left her just long enough to dispose of the condom and fasten his own clothe
s before returning. He scooped her panties off the floor before she could and held them open for her to step into.
Juliette stopped. She stared at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Really?”
Killian shrugged. “Gallant, remember?”
Chuckling and shaking her head, she took hold of his shoulders for balance and stepped into the article. He dragged them up her legs and settled them neatly on her hips. He smoothed her skirt over top and stepped back.
“Thank you,” she said.
He inclined his head. “Let’s see if our food has arrived.”
She made a quiet humming sound. “Might want to eat somewhere else though.”
Killian burst out laughing. Actual laughing. The sound exploded from somewhere deep in his belly with such a force that it actually startled him. Juliette giggled watching him.
Soft footsteps had them glancing towards the doorway just as Frank stepped into the room. The bigger man paused on the threshold, eyebrows lifted high to a nonexistent hairline. He glanced from Juliette—who fidgeted and brushed nervously at her skirt—to Killian—who cleared his throat and tried to act composed.
“Your food is here, sir,” Frank said.
“We’ll take it in the dining room,” he told the man. “Thank you, Frank.”
Bowing his head once, Frank turned and left them.
“I should probably leave afterwards,” Juliette said once they were alone. “I haven’t been home all day and Vi has a tendency to take that as permission to give Mrs. Tompkins a hard time.”
He didn’t like that plan. He didn’t want her to leave, not until he’d gone to sleep. It might have been a fluke or simple exhaustion, but he’d slept the night before. He’d slept the whole night until dawn. He hadn’t jolted awake drowning in his own sweat. He hadn’t scrambled to the edge of the mattress and thrown up with the severity of his nightmares. He needed that. He needed her to stay for a few more hours.
“Are you sure you can’t stay a few more hours?” he coaxed, cupping her chin and tracing a thumb over her mouth.
She chuckled. “Can you go another round?”
Killian grinned darkly. “You know I can.”
Chapter 14
Fall slammed down over them with a vengeance that seemed unwarranted considering what a beautiful summer they’d been having. Vicious cold winds ripped leaves from their branches and turned manicured lawns to a brittle wasteland of frost. It was practically winter without the snow, not that that was too far off.
Juliette normally hated winter. Hated the cold and bulky clothes. She still did, but at least she no longer had to wait for the bus to arrive or leave early to make said bus and be at work on time. John and Tyson arrived promptly every morning in their shiny SUV and drove her wherever she needed to go. A second car, a BMW—also in black—arrived for Vi, which she absolutely loved. Juliette wasn’t certain what she told people about why there was a hulking man following her around, but she never complained about it. It probably made her feel like some kind of celebrity. A third car, a van, sat parked outside the house, watching over Mrs. Tompkins. Juliette couldn’t imagine what Killian was paying for all the security, but she was grateful for it.
October descended with a flurry of activity at the hotel. Every day was a new request to book the banquet hall for a party. Some were even booking for Christmas, which was lucky as most of the slots were already full. But with the new season and the approaching holidays, more and more people flocked the front counter or kept the phone lines buzzing with hopes of booking a room. Juliette no longer had the assistance of one prickly Celina Swanson so the task was left solely to her to accomplish. Being overwhelmed was an understatement. Her only saving grace was the evenings she spent with Killian, the nights he helped de-stress her in the most amazing and wicked ways. But like all good things, she would leave the warmth of his arms and head home in the predawn hours while he slept. She wouldn’t necessarily say it was unfair, because those were their terms of agreement, but there were times she wondered what he would do if she stayed. If she just shut her eyes and let herself sleep the whole night with him. It was the fear of breaking their contract that kept her from finding out. It was the fear of losing him. Sleeping over was just not worth that.
Not that it mattered really.
The months were going by too quickly. It was a sinking comprehension every time she tore a new page off the calendar and realized just how little time she had left with him. It was a cold, sickening sort of slap that filled her with the need to burst into tears or hunt down a wizard to turn the time back. Each time, she was forced to remind herself there were more months left than they’d already used and she shouldn’t worry about it. She knew she couldn’t use that pep talk forever, but it worked for now.
Halloween was chaos. She never thought a hotel could get busy on a holiday not many people celebrated anymore, but it was absolute madness.
People in various costumes barged in, laughing and barely staying upright as they searched for the many parties being thrown in the rooms upstairs or in the banquet hall. Children scurried in with their plastic pumpkins demanding treats or else and the occasional normal guest looking for a place to crash for the night. It was such insanity that Harold had to get Celina to help Juliette man the front, Celina who had yet to forgive Juliette for taking her job. She and Harold were no longer sleeping together, which Harold seemed to regret more than Celina. Juliette kept feeling like she was in a teenage love story the way he kept watching Celina, like his entire world had been shattered while she went on to flirt with anything on two legs. Juliette didn’t know who she wanted to hit more.
By the end of the night, she was ready to bang her head against the nearest wall and hope for a concussion. Her nerves were frayed. She was exhausted and hungry and all she wanted was to curl up in Killian’s arms and let him make it all better. But the clocks had banded together to torment her. They ticked by with a slowness that was pure torture.
“Oh, I’ll take him!” Celina blurted suddenly just as Juliette was contemplating a nap under the counter.
Her head came up just as a tall, beautiful man stopped directly in front of her.
“Killian!”
Her heart leaped. Her face blossomed into an unstoppable smile that lifted the exhaustion off her shoulders and chased away the gloom in her eyes. Had there not been customers in the lobby, she probably would have catapulted herself over the counter, straight into his arms.
“Hello love,” he said in that panty-melting drawl of his. “Long night?”
Juliette exhaled, the sound thick with all her joy at seeing him. “The longest.” She looked him over, taking in his dark trousers tucked beneath a long, wool coat. “Are you headed to a party?”
“Without you?” He raised an eyebrow. “Not likely.” He reached into the front of his coat. “I’m here to get a room.”
Juliette blinked. “A room? Here? Why?”
He withdrew his wallet and eyed her. “It’s Halloween,” he said like that answered everything, but it didn’t. At least, not to her. “Is that all right?”
“Of course it’s all right.” Celina hip chucked her way next to Juliette. Had Juliette not been semi braced, she would have fallen over. “I’m sure we can find you something … suitable.”
Juliette opened her mouth to tell the woman to go deep throat a bottle somewhere, when the hotel doors opened and a crack of plastic filled the lobby. All heads turned as a boy of five came barreling in, plastic guns waving and snapping in the air. He was dressed head to toe as a cowboy, right down to the leather chaps and boots. Behind him, a tired woman staggered in just as the boy held out his guns at Juliette.
“Give me candy and no one gets hurt!” he declared from behind his red bandana.
Juliette had to bite down on her lip to keep from laughing as he bolted forward. His straw hat slipped down over his eyes as he ran and he had to nudge it into place with the barrels of his gun. He stopped on the other side of the counter, ba
rely high enough for Juliette to see more than the top of his hat as he tipped his head far back to meet her gaze.
“Justin.” His mother came up behind him. “You didn’t say please.”
“Don’t use my name!” the boy exclaimed. “I’m an outlaw.”
The mom, rubbing a hand over her face, exhaled. “Say please, Outlaw.”
Justin turned back to the counter. “No one gets hurt … please!” He turned back to his mom. “Bag, Mom!”
She passed him over a homemade sack with a dollar sign stitched into the front. He gave her one of his guns and motioned her to pick him up. She did and perched him on her hip.
“In the bag, lady!” he demanded, holding out his bag.
“You best do it,” Killian mused. “The man’s clearly serious.”
“I am serious!” Justin declared, even as his hat slipped down over his eyes again.
Practically in tears with her efforts not to burst out laughing, Juliette pulled out the bowl of candy and dumped a fistful into his sack.
He tipped his hat. “Much obleragated, ma’am.”
“Obliged,” his mom corrected, setting him down.
Not caring either way, Justin gave her the bag, took his gun and ran for the door, ignoring his mother when she called him back. Groaning, she quickly thanked Juliette and hurried after him. But Justin reached the doors, stopped, spun on his heels and ran back. He shoved his hat as far back over his forehead as possible so Juliette could see his big, blue eyes and a wisp of blonde hair.
“Thank you!” he said, then ran off again.
The two left and Juliette finally gave in.
“He was so cute!” she declared.
“He’s a tiny criminal waiting to happen,” Celina muttered. “Guns? Really? Is the world not violent enough?”
“Oh come on,” Juliette said. “He was adorable and just a kid.”
Scoffing, Celina went back to the computer. She opened a new reservation form and began putting in Killian’s information. Juliette let her, too caught up in his burning scrutiny to think properly anyway.
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