by Marie York
Her eyes narrow into the tiniest of slits and anger tugged at the corners. “I’d rather take my chances than spend another second here with you.”
“A little dramatic, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t. I’ve had my share of drama to last me a lifetime, thank you very much. So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way now.”
“It’s getting dark. Pretty soon it’ll be pitch black, and you won’t be able to see where you’re going.”
“I don’t care.” She continued storming down the road with determined strides.
I kept pace with her, refusing to leave her out here alone in the middle of fucking nowhere. “I heard a storm is rolling in.” “I still don’t care.”
“Well, I do.” Arguing with Kennedy could last for hours, and I was losing my patience. So, I cut the argument short and grabbed her by the waist and tossed her over my shoulder.
“Put me down, you ogre.” She punched my back and kicked violently, but I locked my arms on her thighs and kept walking. It felt good to have her in my arms, even if she was resisting the entire time. I would take what I could get at this point.
“I tried doing it the nice way. You gave me no choice.” She squirmed more, and I just held her tighter.
“You can fight all you want; you’re not getting away from me.”
“Is that what you tell all the girls?”
She meant to hurt me with her words, but I shook it off, and laughed instead. “Only the feisty ones,” I joked.
Her struggle calmed and her body relaxed against mine. “I hate you,” she whispered into my back, and those words hurt most of all.
I didn’t respond, pretending those words never left her mouth. We made our way back to the house in silence. The house came into view just as it began to lightly rain. I walked up the driveway, and right to the front door, refusing to put Kennedy down before we were safe inside.
I locked the door, not that a simple lock would stop her. If she was determined enough, she would run again. “If I put you down, promise me you won’t run.”
“I’m not promising you anything.”
“Then I’m not putting you down.”
She let out a scream and punched my back for good measure. “You are so frustrating. Fine, I won’t run. You happy? Now put me down!” I finally let go and she slid down, her tits dragging down my chest.
“Kennedy,” I said, ready to tell her everything. Prove to her that I wasn’t the guy she thought I was because I wasn’t. Deep down, she had to know that.
I smiled at her, but instead of smiling back, sitting down, and listening to what I had to say, she went right to the master bedroom and locked the door.
Chapter 23
Kennedy
I was going to KILL Jimmy. Actually, no. Killing was too nice for a treacherous asshole. He deserved something much worse than death. I wasn’t exactly sure what that was, but I had an entire weekend to sit in this room and think about it, because there was no way in hell, I was walking out this door so Beckham could smirk at me all sexy, making me forget about why I’m avoiding him.
It wasn’t even the fact that he got another girl pregnant, though that wasn’t exactly sitting well, but it was the fact that he just got up and abandoned his own child. The reason he was always at my house and with my family was because his father didn’t give two shits about him. His dad was never around, and when he was, Beckham got on his nerves, so he gave Beckham money to leave him alone. His father thought money was the answer to everything. But all Beckham ever wanted was someone to love him.
He never said it out loud, but it was obvious the way his father treated him cut deep. He knew what it was like to be neglected. To not know the love of a father, and yet he willingly did that exact same thing to his own child. That was something I couldn’t look past.
We were young, but God forbid, I got knocked up. Would he run from me and our unborn child too? What hurt the most was that I thought I knew him. And not just the Beckham he came across as to everyone else, but the real Beckham. The guy who liked to stay up late watching crappy movies with me, who liked to talk for hours, and loved nothing more than me running my fingers through his hair. The guy who brought peace offerings every time we had a fight, and who wouldn’t take go away as an answer.
I curled up on the bed, tugging the folded quilt at the foot of the mattress around my shoulders. Beckham hadn’t even knocked since I came in here. I honestly believed he’d put up more of a fight. I almost wanted him to. Moments like that showed me he cared and made me think just maybe I really did know him.
Thunder roared in the distance, and I pulled the blanket tighter. There was nothing I hated more than a thunderstorm. They were Mother Nature’s way of scaring the shit out of me. Normally, I’d pop some earbuds in, and let the music wash the haunting sounds away, but I was trapped in this room that didn’t even have a TV.
A loud thump came from the living room, and I wondered what Beckham was doing. I didn’t have to wonder for long because, a few minutes later, he knocked at the door.
“Kenny, I started a fire,” he said, his voice strained with frustration. Good.
“That’s nice.”
“You can’t stay in there forever.”
“You want to make a bet?”
“You’ll have to use the bathroom at some point.”
Dammit, I didn’t think about that. I was a smart girl. I could figure something out.
“I think I’ll survive.”
The thunder grew louder, a hard rumble followed by a deafening crackle. My body jolted at the sound, and I closed my eyes, praying it would pass quickly.
“Ken, I know how much you hate thunderstorms. Let me in, and stop being ridiculous.”
Wind picked up, causing the tree branches to smack the window, and I swear to God, it sounded like fingernails scraping across the glass. A vision of poor Sally Peterson, bloated and grey with long straggly hair popped into my head.
A forceful thump came from the other side of the door. “Dammit!” Beckham yelled, and I assumed his frustration finally came out.
I gathered my legs, pulling them close to my chest. I was fine. Sally Peterson didn’t even exist. It was all made up. Besides, nothing would happen to me. It was just a storm, and I was safe inside, far away from the elements.
I got up from the bed to prove to myself that I could handle this. It was just a storm, and I wasn’t a child. There was no reason to be scared.
Another pulse-stopping boom shook the house, and a flash of light so blinding, I saw stars, lit up the entire room, then everything went black.
A scream tore from my mouth as panic set in. I lost awareness of my surroundings and had no idea where I was in the room.
Beckham banged on the door. “Kenny, you okay?”
“Fine,” I managed.
“Bullshit. Open the fucking door.”
I wanted to so bad. I was done hating him. Done doing whatever we were doing. I was scared, and I needed him. I moved toward where I heard his voice. My foot hooked on something, my body swayed, and before I could stop myself, I went down with a glass shattering crash.
Chapter 24
Beckham
“Kennedy!” I yelled as the sounds of shattering glass traveled through the closed door.
She screamed again, but this time was different. It wasn’t a “she’s scared of thunder” scream. It was a scream of pain.
I slammed my fist against the door as I turned and twisted the knob. “Kennedy! Are you okay? Answer me, dammit.”
“Ow,” was all I heard. Fuck this. She was hurt, and she needed me. I wasn’t wasting another goddamned second. I took a few steps back and ran at the door with my shoulder. It broke open, as a flash of lightning lit up the room. My eyes found Kennedy slumped on the floor, surrounded by broken glass.
I ran to her and bent down. Her blonde hair covered her face, so I pushed it away, cupped her cheeks and urged her to look at me. Tears streamed down my fingers, and I used my thumb to bru
sh her tears away.
“I broke a lamp,” she said through sniffs. “I think it was an antique.”
“Fuck the lamp,” I spit, and gathered her in my arms. “Are you hurt?” I asked, standing up, and carrying her away from the jagged pieces. Glass crunched beneath my feet as I went and I cursed myself for the mess. She never would have locked herself in this room if I wasn’t here. Never would have knocked into the lamp and hurt herself.
“My leg,” she whimpered.
I carried her to the living room where I had a fire burning. It lit up the dark space enough for me to see where I was going. I brought Kennedy to the recliner—I’d instantly thought about her curled up in the first time I had seen it—and placed her down.
I kneeled down in front of her, taking her leg in my hand. Her skin was soft and warm, and I dragged my fingers down it, looking for any imperfections.
Blood dripped from her upper calf, and I could see a piece of glass sticking out. I had to get that out and get this thing wrapped up.
I took my shirt off and placed it underneath her leg so she wouldn’t get blood on the chair. We’d already done enough damage to the house. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
She grabbed my arm and yanked me toward her, and dammit, if that didn’t split my fucking heart in two. “Don’t leave me.”
I reached up, taking her face in my hold. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise. But I need to go to the bathroom and see if they have a bandage.”
Her head shook back and forth and tears welled in her beautiful brown eyes. I leaned in and kissed her forehead, hoping it would calm her down.
“One minute. Time me,” I said with a smile. “Start now. One… Two…”
She picked up on three, and I bolted toward the back of the house where the bathroom was. I used the light from my cell phone to scour the medicine cabinet. Thank God for old people and how they always stock piled shit. I found some gauze, tape, and butterfly band-aids. I grabbed the supplies, and made a mad dash back to Kennedy, trying not to trip over anything myself.
The fire crackled in the distance, and casted a glow over Kennedy curled up in the chair. She looked as beautiful as ever, and I took a second to just stare at her. It had only been a few days since I’d last seen her, but those days were fucking torture.
“Sixty-five,” she whispered. “You’re late.”
“Did you use Mississippi while you were counting?”
“No.”
“Well then, technically, I’m early,” I said with a smirk. She rolled her eyes, and I squeezed in beside her on the recliner, taking her foot in my hand. “There’s a piece of glass. I have to get it out. But it might hurt.”
Her eyes widened and filled with panic as she shook her head and nibbled on her bottom lip. I needed to erase the fear from her face and her mind. It was literally destroying me.
I pressed my finger to the bottom of her chin. “Look at me.”
Her big eyes glanced up at me. It was the first time she really looked at me since that morning when everything fell apart.
“Do you trust me?”
She blinked away and sighed. “I thought I did… You’re not the person I thought you were.”
I tucked her hair behind her ear and locked eyes with her. “It hurts that you honestly believe that.”
“What am I supposed to believe?”
“Me. You’re supposed to believe me, but you won’t even listen to my side of the story.” I stood up, and ran my hands through my hair as frustration seeped through my veins. “You know what? Forget it.” I sat back down and took her leg in my hand. Whether she trusted me or not, the fucking glass had to come out of her leg.
I turned her leg, so it was at a good angle, and went to reach for the glass, when her hand landed on my bicep. I looked up, catching her gaze. “I trust you,” she said.
I didn’t move my eyes from hers. I kept them locked on hers while I slid the piece of glass from her skin. She winced for a slight second, but the glass was already out. I cleaned up the wound, and then bandaged it up.
I smiled. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”
Her hand wrapped around my neck, and she crashed her lips to mine. Shock faded away to the electric current that shot right to my dick. I grabbed her face and kissed her back with everything I had, showing her how desperately I needed her and missed her.
A moan rumbled up her throat, and I trailed my mouth down her neck. Her fingers knotted in my hair, and she yanked me back to her lips. I plunged my tongue into her waiting mouth and met her tongue thrust for thrust.
I didn’t know if she was just horny, or if she actually wanted me back, and for some fucking stupid reason, I needed her to know the truth before I continued. I pulled back; our breaths heavy between us.
She curled her fingers around my bun and tried to bring me back to her mouth. “Wait,” I said. “I need you to know. That baby. It’s not mine.”
“It’s not?”
I shook my head. “It’s not.”
“Then, why would Nix say that?”
“It’s complicated, but you said you trust me, and I need you to believe me. It’s not my kid.”
Her hands crept up my abs and rested flat on my pecs. She looked deep into my eyes. “I believe you.” It was like she told me I won the fucking Olympics. She trusted me, believed me, and I finally had my girl back.
I scooped her up off the chair, and went to walk to the bedroom when she kissed my cheek, and then my ear. “Let’s stay here.”
“But, there’s a bed here.”
“Beds aren’t our thing. And I’ve always dreamed about making love in front of a fire.”
“I’m all about making dreams come true,” I said with a smirk, and lowered her to the floor. I reached behind me and grabbed a blanket.
“I’ve missed you so much,” Kennedy said, climbing into my lap, and wrapping her legs around my waist. She grinded into my cock, and, with an entire week of wanting her, it turned to fucking stone.
I pushed her hair out of her face and pressed a simple kiss to her lips. “I missed you, too.”
Her arms tightened around my neck, and I captured her mouth with mine, making up for all the time we lost. I swiped my tongue across her crease, and she parted, letting me in.
I grabbed the hem of her shirt, and ripped it over her head, tossing it behind us. Red lace covered her tits and had my dick practically exploding. She rocked into me, and I buried my head in those beautiful mounds, kissing the swells of her breasts, and dragging my tongue along the material.
I peeled the cup away, and dipped my head, taking her taut little nipple into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around the peak until it was a tight, hard bead.
Her head fell back, and I ran my hand between her tits. I needed her so fucking bad. I got up on my knees and laid her down on the blanket. I parted her legs with mine, and unzipped her pants, pulling them off. My dick throbbed at the matching red thong she was wearing.
“You’re so fucking hot,” I growled as I stared down at her, wanting to devour every inch of her. I leaned over her, and kissed her, a game of give and take until I broke away, and trailed my tongue down her neck.
I sucked at the sensitive spot in the crook of her neck, and she dug her nails into my shoulder. She reached down and undid my pants, not wasting any time. I stood up and kicked them off, happy to be on the same page as her. Her hand wrapped around my throbbing cock, and she stroked it, sending chills up my spine. I missed her touch and the way my body responded to her.
Not wanting to waste another second, I unhooked her bra. She let the cups fall away and the straps slipped down her arms. I tossed the bra out of my way and kissed her.
“You’re so hard,” she moaned against my mouth.
“Always for you. Always.” I dipped my hand into her thong and ran my finger across her clit. She arched at the contact, putting her tits right in my face. I bent down and sucked her nipple into my mouth, nipping and licking. She arched again, and I thrust a
finger into her dripping wet pussy.
“Oh my God, Beckham,” she screamed, and I curled my finger to hit her g-spot. She bucked, and pushed her pussy hard against my hand.
“That’s right. Fuck my finger.”
She didn’t hesitate, rocking back and forth as my finger went in and out of her slick entrance. I slipped another finger in, and she smacked her hands on the floor, gripping the blanket beneath us.
She felt so fucking good, but I needed to taste her. I grabbed her thighs and buried my head into her wetness. I flicked my tongue against her clit, sucking and licking until her entire body was bucking. I dragged my tongue down, tasting every inch of her glorious pussy, tasting how wet she was for me.
“I need you. Inside me. Now,” she demanded; her voice more breathy than forceful.
I tightened my grip on her thighs, and yanked her closer to my face, thrusting my tongue into her. Her fingers laced through my hair, and I continued driving her fucking crazy.
“I’m going to come,” she called out, and I sucked her clit a little harder before ripping my face from her delicious juices, and plunging my throbbing cock inside her.
She moaned out in ecstasy, and I crushed my lips to her. I snaked my hand around her head, and held it up, while I thrust, slowly and deeply.
Her eyes opened, and they were heavy with pleasure. She had never looked more beautiful. “I love you,” I said, and linked my fingers with hers, curling them around her hand, and not letting go.
I trailed my tongue down her neck and followed it back up with kisses. I rocked into her with slow steady thrusts.
Her moans grew louder, so I threw slow out the fucking window, and shoved into her. I licked my thumb and circled it against her clit. Her body arched again, and I continued my hard, relentless thrusts.
Her muscles tightened around my cock like a goddamn vise grip as her orgasm overtook her. She threw her head back, her eyes rolling back with it, as her body convulsed beneath me. When her body went lax, I drove into her, taking her leg, and placing it on my shoulder.
I held her leg as I fucked her hard. She screamed out again, and that was my undoing. It was like an explosion erupted as I came, spilling my seed inside her.
