by Nana Malone
Derek frowned and stared at the big man, taking in his sallow complexion. "You're sick."
TJ nodded. "Yeah."
"How bad?" His heart wrenched. This would kill Kiss.
"Stage two lung cancer. I've already had one surgery. But I'll need several more. Then chemo."
"Fuck. Kiss know?"
TJ nodded. "Yeah, she's aware. It's the only reason she consented to have you here. She understands what's at risk. She knows I'm the only one giving her a fair shot. And frankly, after what Antonio did to her, there is no team she'd feel comfortable on unless she had the chops to tell them to go fuck themselves."
Derek did not like the sound of that. "Who's Antonio and what did he do to her?"
TJ pursed his lips. "I don't know everything, mind you. But the two were dating. Kid stuff. Christian, Antonio, and Kiss were a staple of the circuit. They grew up together. Inseparable, the three of them. She and Christian are like brother and sister. But Antonio, you could always see the tension there. It got worse when she grew up. I mean, you see her. She looks just like her mother. A face to strike a smart man dumb. Legs long enough to make a giraffe jealous. Antonio had a major thing for her but she was guarded. Losing her parents young closed her off. I think they got together, but she won't ever confirm anything to me. Something happened with them, then next thing I know, Antonio is headed to Gifford and rumors start flying around about Kiss."
"What kind of rumors?" Fury flared to life, white hot and fierce.
"The kind a father doesn't need to hear about his daughter. I tried to shield her as best I could. With my name behind her, I could keep a lid on most of it. But she's not stupid. Pretty girl like that, in this boys club?" He shrugged. "Well you know men."
Anger hummed in Derek's blood. He was going to put a fist in Bates if he ever met him. Easy does it, she's not yours. "And Christian? They have a thing now?"
TJ shook his head vehemently. "My son and I aren't exactly on speaking terms. But I know Kiss and she's not interested. Christian has always been jealous of how I felt about her, but he loves her. Doesn’t blame her for it. He loves her like family. Saves all his ire for me. And that's my own fault. I made a lot of mistakes. But I was responsible for that girl. I took care of her like my own."
Derek ran a hand through his hair and he glanced back out at the pool. "This is one hell of a family drama."
The older man sighed. "Tell me about it. So you see why I'm so interested in getting her back into a car and pronto. She wants respect. She's worked hard. While I'm here, I can help give it to her. But she needs a shot. Everyone says she's unproven. But I know what she can do. And I've got a limited time to give her the opportunities to show it. Once I'm gone, this world will spit her out. I have the sponsors who are willing to back her, but they need to see something. She was supposed to show what she could do at the exhibition race in Montreal, and you know how that turned out. And I have to get her into a car in order to prove how good she is, so I need your help."
"And like I said, we're doing our best, but her physical well-being is more important to me right now. I won't compromise that." But if it meant her future, he'd try to help her get there.
14
It had been a week since she'd seen Leah and Kiss still couldn't get her friend’s words out of her head. It didn't help that everywhere she turned, there was Derek. Sometimes shirtless, looking good enough to tempt a celibate girl. Okay, so maybe she wasn't exactly celibate by choice. Being nearly crushed to death in an accident didn't do anything for one's dating life.
"Focus, Kiss. Where are you today?" As she moved over the treadmill, she ground her teeth together. "What does it matter what I'm thinking about as long as I'm doing the work. I assume it's better for me to fantasize about Michael Fassbender than it is to focus on how much this sucks. Or on all the various ways I could possibly kill you."
"You should focus on the work you're doing." His voice may have been stern, but his lips twitched.
"I prefer Fassy, thanks. I mean who knew Irish men were packing so much—"
He choked a laugh and hung his head. "I swear to God, that mouth of yours."
She frowned. "Hmm, not one of the ways I'd envisioned, but I supposed if humor and sarcasm do the trick, then who am I to complain." Cocking her head, she added, "Donovan, that's an Irish name right?"
His laughter bounced off of the walls in the gym. "Exactly what do you think I'm packing, Kiss?” The tone was teasing, but there was a layer of heat just under each word.
"Personality," she said deadpan. "What did you think I was talking about?"
He merely shook his head and upped the speed on the treadmill.
"Hey now," she balked. "There is no need for all of that. What did I ever do to you?"
"Compared me to Michael Fassbender."
This was easy and fun. She might not enjoy his special brand of torture, but she liked his company. Besides, next to TJ and Leah, he was the only company she'd had for weeks. They'd built a bond of sorts. "What's wrong with Fassy? I mean I'm being very complimentary. Have you seen the size of his—"
"Kisima!" Derek choked on a laugh.
"What? I was going to say smile. Jesus, Donovan, you have a dirty mind apparently. Why are you so obsessed with Michael Fassbender's cock? Is there something you want to tell me?" She winked.
His lips twitched and he upped her speed once again. In no time, she was walking quickly and sweat poured from her face. "Come on, distract me okay? If I have to do this, then at least keep my mind off of it. And if you won’t let me daydream about Fassbender, then talk to me."
"Fine, what do you want to talk about?"
"I don't know. Maybe why you're in robot mode with me half the time, but when one of your sisters or your friends call, you're silly and fun."
His brow furrowed. "I'm always fun."
She huffed a breath. "I beg to differ. I do not call this fun." His lips quirked and she tried not to focus on how full they were. Day dreaming about him would surely get her more time on the treadmill.
"This is fun."
"Oh come on. Give me something to work with, Irish. You've been here for weeks and I barely know anything about you besides your penchant for superhero antics."
He shook his head. "You're like my sister, Delilah, you never let anything go."
"That's a good thing right?"
It took him a second, but finally he answered, "Yeah, I supposed it is."
"How many sisters do you have?"
"Six. Delilah is the oldest."
She nearly tripped. "Shit, six sisters. I knew you were Irish, but I didn't think you were that Irish. Being the only boy must have been tough. Did your sisters beat you up a lot?"
He laughed easily. "Very funny. Who said I was the only boy? I have five brothers."
She almost face planted when she forgot to keep moving her feet. "Say what?"
"You can relax. With the exception of Delilah, Dylan and I, the rest of the crew is adopted."
"Wow, just when I'd started to feel sorry for your poor mother. Like this was a twenty-seven kids and counting type dealio."
"Yeah, no. Knowing Mom, she would have neutered Dad ages ago if that was the case. Sarah doesn’t mess around."
She frowned. "You call your mom Sarah?"
Derek sighed. "She's actually my step-mom, but as far as I'm concerned, she’s been my mom since I was eight."
The hint of pain was palpable in his voice, but she was so curious to know anything about him. "Your parents divorced?"
"More like Mom took off and left us. Apparently she wasn't too great at the whole being married and being a mom thing."
"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't know."
He shook his head and inhaled deeply. "It's old shit. And it's actually fine. At the time it hurt. Pretty bad. I was convinced that if I'd just been good enough and behaved like she told me, she never would have left. But in hindsight, best thing that ever happened. Sarah is awesome."
"That's great. She must
had a big heart if you have all these adopted brothers and sisters."
"The biggest. Man, she can't stand to see anyone in need. Kids, pets, her patients."
"Patients?" she asked, hungry for any tiny window into his life.
"Yeah, she's a doctor. Her husband and my dad were best friends and had a law firm together. But then her husband died. Dad wasted no time scooping her up."
"They sound pretty awesome."
He nodded. "They are. Maybe if you keep working hard, I'll introduce you to Delilah and Nate when they come down for a visit."
"Then you better get ready for me to get all the dirt on a teenaged Derek because I'm working my ass off." Glancing at her rear, she sighed. "Yeah, if only that was a possibility."
15
Kiss was improving rapidly. Then why do you feel like shit about it? Derek scrubbed a hand over his face as he filled the high efficiency dishwasher. She'd begged off some of the chores to try to wash her hair. Mostly she wore it in a messy bun, but she complained it needed a good detangling and he couldn't even imagine the pain. If she had hair like Mia or Delilah, then there would be some scary hairballs in the shower.
He had to stop thinking about her. Had to stop obsessing about her. He'd tried doing the night out on the town thing and it hadn't worked. Usually hanging with Dylan could improve his mood, but tonight, he was distracted. He'd have been happier hanging on the couch with Kiss.
Somebody needed to take his player card away. He was going soft. Maybe tonight would be better. Maybe he was just in a funk. Or maybe you need to get laid. His cock twitched inside his jeans as if to concur.
No. That was the same shit that got him in this whole mess in the first place. Following his dick around. One night that had changed everything. Of all the decisions he'd made in his life, it was so rare that he could pinpoint the exact direction of his life from one event. He never should have flirted with Kallie Wintor. His life would be on track right now.
From the bedroom, he heard Kiss call out.
He turned off the water and grabbed a towel to dry his hands on the way. When he reached the bedroom, he said, "What's the matter, you want help picking your workout clothes for tomorrow, princess? Here's a hint. Pick something that you'll sweat in." But she wasn't in her room. "Kiss?"
"I'm in here," she called from the bathroom.
Oh hell. There was no way this was going to end well for him if he went in there. He swallowed hard. "What's the problem?"
"Can you come in here for a sec?"
Fuck yes. But his rational brain stopped him from doing the stupid thing. "Are you sure about that?"
She hesitated a second. "Yes. Please, I need your help."
With an exhale, he knew how this was going to go down. If he touched a wet, slippery Kiss, he was going to want to touch more. Kiss, lick, fuck. But he opened the door anyway.
Steam filled the expansive bathroom. But through it he could see it was a larger version of the guest bath down the hall. The floor was a white marble and white and gray glass tile lined the shower. His gaze raked over her hungrily. From her delicate feet and strong calves to the lean strong thighs. But then her mauve towel stopped the progression of his exploration. Damn. "What's the problem?"
She sighed with relief as she turned, keeping just her head in the stream of the shower, trying to avoid getting the towel wet. She squinted up at him as the spray of water hit her face. "I managed to wash it okay, and even get conditioner in, but I'm dead exhausted and my shoulder started to talk to me. Normally I'd have just kneeled at the tub to wash it, and last time, Leah helped me, but I'm sort of desperate here."
She was wet, and slick. And he wanted his hand in her hair. He'd had a million dreams just like this one. In fact he wasn't entirely sure he wasn't dreaming right now. "Okay, what do you need?"
"If you could just help me make sure that the conditioner is out, I can do a quick detangle."
"Uh, okay." Except to do it, he was going to have to get into the shower. First option was to take off his clothes and climb in with her. He liked that option. The idea of burying himself inside her had him biting back a groan. Yeah no, no naked. He'd have to go in clothed.
He removed his phone and put it on top of the toilet. When he opened the glass door, her eyes flared. "What are you doing?"
"To make this work properly, you need to be under the stream of water right?"
She nodded.
"Okay then, I'm getting wet."
"Oh, uh..." Her voice trailed.
"Do you want my help or not?"
"I do. Sorry. I guess I just didn’t think this all the way through."
He clamped his jaw together. The sooner you help her, the sooner you can go back to your room and take a cold one. Once in the stream of the shower, her scent surrounded him and he knew he was going to lose the battle and the war. He was already losing a grip on his control and he hadn't even touched her yet. "Uh, just stand in the stream and I'll rinse you out. While you're at it, give me the wide-tooth comb."
"Oh, you don't have to do that. I'll manage."
"Don't be silly. I'm in here, I'm wet and I know how to detangle hair."
A light flush stained her cheeks. "While I believe you've probably done this before, I, uh, black hair is different."
He blinked at her, the laugh rushing out of him just like always. He never knew what was going to come out of her mouth. "I guess I should have probably mentioned four of my sisters are black, or half black anyway. Two of them with hair curlier than yours. I got this."
Her jaw unhinged and she did a guppy routine for a moment, then she handed over the wide-tooth comb. "Have at it."
"Turn around." Damn, why did his voice sound so hoarse? When she did, the water ran though her hair, rinsing out the conditioner and he massaged the rest out with the pads of his fingers. In front of him, Kiss groaned and let her head relax back into the scalp massage he was giving her. The towel she clutched was soaked and no doubt heavy by this point.
He forced his mind to go blank as he rinsed and massaged. Gently, he began to detangle her hair, starting in sections from the ends to the roots. Growing up, he'd had to help get Brooklyn and Max ready for school sometimes, so he knew what he was doing. When he was done, he couldn't keep his hand out of the softness of her hair and he kept finger detangling.
Slowly she turned into him, blinking up at him through wet, sooty lashes. "Th-thank you. I couldn't have done that myself and it went much faster."
The first step in dealing with a problem was admitting he had a problem. He was fighting the pull, but it had been an uphill battle from the minute he saw her. If he was Clark Kent, she was his Kryptonite. "Kiss, I—fuck it." He cupped the back of her head and pulled her into him. Before melding their lips together, he paused, giving her an out, but she didn't protest. Instead, her fingers dug into his soaked T-shirt and dragged him closer.
When he slid his lips over hers, need took over and all brain function ceased.
***
First of all, the man could kiss. Like for real kiss. The kind of bone melting, brain fuzzing, skin tingling kind of kiss. She was toast.
With one hand looped around her waist and the other fisting into her hair, he slid his lips over hers expertly.
Gently, he backed her out of the shower stream and up against the wall. When her back hit the cool tile, she gasped and he took full advantage, sliding his tongue deep into her mouth. Tentatively, she met his tongue with hers and he made this satisfied moaning sound at the back of his throat. Sinking into him, she let go of her towel, the sodden material now molded to her flesh, then looped her arms around his neck and poured herself into the kiss. For once she let go of all the shit she'd been carrying around. Her need to be perfect. Everything that happened with Antonio. Christian's expectations. Everything, and let herself feel. All she wanted was more of what this felt like. She craved this feeling. And she knew that it was only Derek that could give it to her.
The towel started to fall, but she m
ade no grab for it. The heat of his body kept her warm, hot, sizzling. Derek pulled back slightly, nipping at her bottom lip as he did. Unsteady on her feet, she swayed into him.
Under heavy lidded eyes, his gaze pinned on her lips. "Jesus, you taste so good. I can't stop."
"I don't want you to." Hell, she'd only been thinking about this for weeks. Suddenly, she knew why she couldn't give Christian the answer he wanted, it was because of him, because of Derek. She wanted what he could make her feel. Kisima ran her tongue over her bottom lip and he groaned.
"Do you know how fucking crazy you've been making me with that? I swear to God, I've thought about kissing you a thousand times," he whispered.
When he kissed her again, his lips were soft, tentative, explorative. But that wasn't what she wanted. She wanted him to devour her. To make her his. To make her feel alive and wanted.
Desperate for him to take more, she twined her fingers into his hair and tugged... Derek tore his lips from hers and her name was both a curse and exaltation on his tongue. "Kiss." His brow puckered as the towel between them fell completely. His gaze dipped and he hissed, "You're beautiful. Every inch of you."
She wanted to believe him. But she knew the truth. She wasn't beautiful. Not anymore. Maybe he couldn't see the scars. They started on the side of her neck and snaked down her back. Next time she'd have to turn down the lights. Next time—
"Hey," He nipped at her lips. "Where'd you go?"
"Nowhere." She shook her head. "I'm fine." She didn't want to lose this moment in time. Not for anything, so she tugged on his T-shirt and stood on tiptoe, pressing her lips to his again.
He wasn't gentle now. Raw passion poured out over his skin, enveloping her until she was all need and longing and wound so tight, she worried she would snap.
