Because of Kian
Page 8
Kian's voice in the darkness startled me, and I felt like I jumped clean out of my skin.
"Jeez, Kian," I grumbled. "Don't sneak up on someone like that."
"What are you doing?"
“I dropped my keys.”
He cocked his head and studied me for a moment. "You probably shouldn't be driving? You had quite a bit to drink."
“How the fuck do you know?”
“Because I’ve been watching. You were sucking down drinks like there was no tomorrow.”
“What happened to all your admirers?” I spat. “I figured you were gonna be eaten alive.”
His rich laugh annoyed me even more. “And you did nothing to save me.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “It’s not really my place. We fucked and you regretted it, so it isn’t like I have any claim on you. And I sure as hell don’t want to be a cock blocker.”
“Are you seriously pissed?”
“No,” I muttered. “I’m just tired and not in the mood for this shit or those fuckers around the corner over there.” I pointed in the direction of Boozer Doug and Mr. Touchy-Feely.
“Wait, what fuckers?” He started to move away from me, in the direction I’d pointed.
“Kian—” I quickly grabbed his arm to stay him, trying to avoid some alpha display.
He turned back towards me with that angry, protective vibe in full swing. “Are you okay? Did they fuck with you?”
“I’m fine,” I grated through clenched teeth. “I don’t need you fighting all my battles. Maybe you should head back into to check on your fan club instead.”
The petulance in my voice amused Kian, soothing his irritation a little. Slowly, a smile began to touch his lips and his eyes began to twinkle in the dim light. “You’re jealous.”
Resisting the urge to scream, I scowled at him in the shadows.
"Kian, don’t even—" My voice caught in my throat when he stepped closer, invading my personal bubble, backing me up against my car, caging me in with his massive torso and pressing up against me.
“Because I don’t want a single woman in there,” he ground out with a throaty animalistic growl, his lips all but brushing against mine. “The only woman I want… is you.”
Sploosh! I was instantly drenched by the intensity of his eyes and the rough promise in his voice. I froze, unable to move or breath or swallow as he focused intently down at me. His hand tucked my hair back behind my ear, then trailed faintly along my cheek.
“Got it?” Kian asked, and I dumbly nodded in response. "Come on," he said, lightly kissing my lips and nipping a little as he lifted his head. "I'll give you a ride."
My mind was reeling over what he’d just said about wanting me. Only me.
Oh my fuck.
I shook my head to clear the lusty fog that had suddenly enveloped me. “I don’t need a ride, Kian,” I began breathlessly.
“Brynn, with all the screwdrivers I saw you drink tonight, I can’t imagine you’re anywhere near sober.”
Part of me debated the dishonesty of what I really wanted to do. Because I really did want go with him. I was dying to. If for no other reason than to press up against him and breathe him in, to feel the taut muscles of his abdomen beneath my hands again.
God, I was such a slut.
He turned our bodies and started walking me backwards to his bike, his hands on my hips as he nudged me to the side while he climbed on the old Victory. He was so fucking smooth as he balanced the bike, holding the handlebars with one hand and motioning to the back of the seat with the other.
"Hop on," he ordered softly.
I took a few steps closer until I stood a hair's breadth away, more by the front, though. More in front of him. My hand ran along his forearm, lifting and setting his hand back on my hip. Lifting one foot, I slipped it over the tank, facing him, sliding onto the bike in front of him.
His muscles tensed and his eyes burned through the dim light filtering down from the street lamps. His breathing hitched, and his grip tightened at my hip, pulling me more solidly against him and encircling me with the handlebars. My fingertips grazed the hard angle of his jaw, rough with stubble, and his tongue swept across his lips. The quick visual wrenched a small groan from my throat, and he lowered his head to kiss me.
Leisurely, smoothly, his tongue swept across mine, his arm held me firmly. His kiss seared me, inflamed my senses and made me shiver. My hands crept along his broad shoulders and I pulled myself tighter against him. I slowly drew back, my breathing shaky and forced. I looked up at his heavy-lidded gaze.
"Take me home, Kian," I whispered.
"Yeah," he murmured with a slight nod. "But, baby, you're gonna have to hop on the back because you are way too tempting to be sitting where you are right now. I wouldn't make it a fucking block."
Kian
Fucking hell, it felt so good to be touching her again. To hear her sighs and whimpers, to taste her lips and crush her against me.
The ride to her place was sheer torture, her full breasts pressed against my back and her fingers digging into my gut. By the time we made it in her door, I was like a teenager about to explode in my jeans.
But, fuck, she was drunk and pissed. That motherfucking Holly MacPherson had shown up at the bar tonight and would not leave me the fuck alone. She all but grabbed my junk right there. It was a relief when she finally started mashing out with her friend. I’m sure she figured a little girl-on-girl would get my juices flowing, but the only woman I wanted in that place was sitting at the bar downing screwdrivers like water and getting more and more pissed as the night wore on.
Sadistic, maybe, but it was good to see Brynn get jealous, even if it was a side-effect of the vodka. In a way, her anger professed an unspoken claim.
Her animosity had faded quickly, replaced by a burning lust as evidenced by that blazing hot kiss outside Hyper. But the way she’d been pouring booze down her throat, she’d likely be even more pissed tomorrow when she woke up naked in my arms. Things had gone to shit so quickly after that romp in the gym, I didn’t want to risk her freaking out over a drunken fuck fest.
"Baby," I breathed against her neck, my hands stilling Brynn’s writhing body, "you had more drinks than I could keep track of tonight. You’re fuckable as all hell, but I don't want you to wake up tomorrow regretting this."
"Orange juice..." she trailed off as her lips roamed down my neck. "I just drink orange juice."
My head shot up and my hand guided her gaze towards mine. "What?"
"I don't drink alcohol,” she whispered up at me, her soft lips glistening wet from my voracious kiss. “I’m too afraid of losing control. Of my judgment being altered and getting in a tight spot. I drink orange juice so people think I’ve got some kind of mixed drink. It saves a lot of hassle. I’ve got it all worked out with Sage."
I was astounded. I’d had no clue. No idea in the slightest. I just figured she was fucking awesome at holding her liquor.
Her lips dipped to the cords of my neck, and she traced along the contour with the tip of her tongue, up towards my ear. Sweet Jesus. Every drop of blood in my body raced straight to my dick.
"I'm not doing this because I'm drunk, Kian,” she breathed against my skin with a heady rasp. “I'm doing this because I want you. Now. I want to get lost in you, to feel you inside me again." She nipped slightly, drawing a deep groan out of my chest as she dipped her tongue into my ear. "I want you like nothing I’ve ever felt before," she murmured.
She’d gone along with my thinking she was drunk in order to be with me. She came with me knowing she wasn’t the slightest bit intoxicated. She wanted me, and fuck if I was going to let her go again.
An overpowering animalistic urge took over, and I lifted her against the wall, gripping her ass, and pressing against her with my heavily muscled frame. Her legs wrapped around my waist and she ground her hot little pussy against my dick, intensifying the ache and setting every nerve in my body on fire.
Oh my fuck, I'd forgotten just how good she felt.
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One of my hands slipped up under her skirt and into her lacy panties as the other slid and groped its way up her body into her hair. I ground my hips against her, circling the pressure, over and over until a ragged sob tore from her throat.
Her hands began to rip at the buttons of my flannel shirt, tugging the soft fabric away to bare my chest, and she plastered herself against my skin, arching up to my devouring kiss.
"Fuck..." I groaned against her lips as her hands slid down my chest and abs to reach for the buttons of my jeans. She tugged the fly open with an erotic moan, and my aching length was suddenly hot in her hand, throbbing and pulsing. Holy hell. Holding her firmly with one hand, I reached in my back pocket with the other, grabbing my wallet and quickly freeing a condom. Pulling away from her kiss with a gasp, I ripped at the package with my teeth. Her hand followed mine down to my dick, and she pinched the tip as I rolled on. I ripped away the scrap of lace that covered her sweet, hot little pussy and pressed her back against the wall, stretching her full with my throbbing cock.
"Oh, God, baby..." The groan ripped from my throat, my face pressed against her rapidly beating pulse. "So fucking hot."
I withdrew slightly and pushed back in with a brute rush, feeling the smooth slide of her squeezing me tightly. Tremors pulsed throughout me with each thrust, and I growled as I pounded her against the wall. Brynn’s nails clawed at my shoulders, scraping and digging into the flesh, and my fingers dug into the soft curve of her ass.
Hot and wild and frantic. All too soon, her body tensed and she shuddered around me, crying out, calling my name, begging for more, harder, faster. And then, unable to hold out any longer, I detonated inside her.
I felt like I had touched the sky.
Chapter 9 ~ Guilt
Dear Agony ~ Breaking Benjamin
Burning Desire ~ Lana Del Ray
Brynn
“I’ve got to admit, I think I did actually try to make you jealous tonight,” Kian ruefully murmured. “Not that I was encouraging those girls, but I wasn’t doing much to stop them. Honestly, though, all I could think was that I wanted you there in front of me instead of them.”
We had finally managed to get to my bedroom. It had taken a little while to come back to earth after the mindblowing sex in the hallway. Kian had carried my languid body, still connected to his, to lay me on the bed. He kissed my eyelids and removed my disarrayed clothing. After leaving me for a moment to toss the condom, he shucked off his shirt and jeans, then slid into the cool, smooth sheets beside me. His large frame wrapped around my body, sheltering me in the warm security of his embrace.
“I should probably confess, also, then,” I whispered. “I was jealous… very much so.”
“I got a little worried that it was going to backfire, though, when that skuzzy dude came up to you at the bar,” he admitted as his lips brushed up against my forehead.
“Oh my God, you shouldn’t have,” I softly chuckled. “He was completely soused. I was kind of a bitch to him, but he apparently was intrigued by the challenge.”
“So they were fucking with you,” he ground out.
“I took care of it,” I smiled softly. “Nailed him in the groin, and he dropped like a rock.”
Kian laughed softly. “I’ve never been so ecstatic to hear about a guy getting kneed in the nuts.”
He rose up on his elbow above me, rolling me slightly so he was leaning over me. The soft amethyst glow from my little dresser nightlight dimly illuminated the hard contours of his face, just enough to see the seriousness of his expression.
“It’s probably a good thing you got to him first. I wanted to kill that fucker in the bar for even talking to you.”
“It’s a very stupid game we play sometimes,” I said softly, grazing my fingertips along his strong jaw. “I try so hard not to want you. You’re kinda like crack though. As much as I fight it, I can’t seem to stay away. Even though it’s not good for me. Or you.”
“Who says?”
“I’m a mess, Kian,” I whispered. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“Brynn, nobody’s as together as they seem. Everyone has skeletons in their closet and monsters under their bed.” He brushed the hair back from my forehead with an amazingly gentle touch for such large, strong hands.
“What are yours?” I asked.
His brow knitted tightly, and he averted his eyes for a moment.
“My mom,” he finally murmured softly, looking back at me. “This ink,” he nodded towards his tattooed shoulder, “it’s a Celtic motherhood knot. For her. To remind me of what I did.”
I leaned up to trace my finger along the intricate design that decorated his shoulder.
“What does this say? Is it Gaelic or something?”
He nodded almost imperceptibly. “It says ‘my mother’ on the one side, and on the other ‘forever in my heart.’”
“That’s… so sweet and sad.” ” I whispered. His voice had sounded incredibly forlorn and remorseful. “What happened?”
“After my dad died, it was just her and I for a long time. She called me the man of the house,” he smiled sadly. “I tried to be, even though I was just a kid. As the years went on, though, I pulled away a little. A typical teenage boy. She let me, knowing I needed the space. Knowing I needed to be my own man, and not just hers.”
The despondency, the sheer grief, which emanated from Kian was palpable. It weighted his spirit and tugged sharply at my heart.
“She was… lonely,” he continued. “She didn’t really have much other than me, so she started seeing this guy, a mechanic who had worked on her car. Before long, they got married. It was a small town, and there wasn’t a lot to choose from. I think she saw security, someone to help her feel less alone, especially since I was so distant. Fuck, this guy was kind of an asshole, though. I hated him, pulled away even more. ” Kian rolled to his back, using one arm to keep me pulled tightly against his side, and I nuzzled my face in to the crook of his neck. “We pretty much just fought. He pushed me around a little, I pushed back. It tore her apart, so I tried to shield her from it. I tried to get along with that bastard, but I was never good enough. Over and over again, he’d fuck with me until I lost my cool. It was a train wreck, and she decided to leave him. But I left instead, before she could. I’d just graduated, so I packed up my shit and took off.”
I trailed my fingers along his chest as he spoke, tracing his collarbone and skimming down his shoulder over the coiled pattern of ink. Over the scripted letters that perfectly accented the knot.
“With me gone,” Kian said quietly, “he turned on her. She wasn’t able to get out fast enough, and he…” His voice trailed off with a sharp hitch of emotion. “Fuck,” he muttered. “I’ve never said this aloud.”
I lifted myself to rise above him, stroking his jaw, doing everything I could to comfort him as he continued.
“He really fucked her up. I got a call from the hospital as her next of kin. She was barely alive when I got there. He’d beaten her so bad that I could hardly recognize her. It was more than her fragile body could take. She slipped away from me while I sat there wishing it was me that he’d beaten.” His voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “That fucker killed her.” The raw agony in his voice shredded me. Kian pushed his head back into the pillows of my bed and stared unseeing at the ceiling. “I should have never left her.” His words barely audible in the quiet room.
“Kian, you can’t blame yourself for that,” I offered solemnly.
“But I left her there, knowing what an absolute fucking bastard he was.” He swallowed hard and shook his head faintly. “Right before she died, she whispered that she loved me, and that she knew I had to get away.” He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly with a shudder. “She apologized… to me.”
His eyes closed tightly as I caressed his clenched jaw, ran my fingertips over his eyebrows, desperately trying to absorb some of his guilt and agony. I didn’t know what to say. How to ease his suffering.
“God,
I wanted to kill him. I wanted to rip him apart with my bare hands.” Kian shook his head slightly in frustration. “He had been arrested after he hurt her. Was found guilty of manslaughter. Fucker got shanked in prison. Bled out on the floor of the God-damned cafeteria. He deserved a lot worse.”
I gently combed my fingers through the short hair that fell over his forehead, then kissed his cheek softly and pressed myself tightly against him.
“No wonder you were so angry when you saw Evan hit me,” I murmured.
His arms tightened around me in response, his fingers toying with the hair that spilled down my back. “I wanted to kill that fucker, too. I still do, every time I think about it.”
“I was lucky you showed up when you did.”
“I’m not sure how much of that was luck…” he trailed off.
Something about the tone of his voice made me raise my head to meet his gaze in the shadows.
“What do you mean?”
His fingers cupped my cheek. “I wanted you from the first time I saw you. Since you first walked past me in Hyper one night. Quite a while before I chased Evan off.”
“How long before?”
He seemed to be battling one of those monsters he’d mentioned earlier. A flutter of apprehension wafted through my gut, wrought of confusion. The unease that emanated from him was unnerving.
“When I was little kid,” he said softly, “before my dad died, we took a vacation to Hawaii. I was really little and I don’t remember much. I faintly remember the beach and that we drove all over in the mountains which made me carsick.”
I watched him closely as he spoke, trying to imagine the little boy he had once been. It seemed so foreign, this big, formidable, strong man as a small child.
“But,” he continued, “the thing I remember the most was getting off the plane… and the scent that filled the air. It was thick with the sweet smell of some kind of fresh flowers. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven, leaving Montana in the harsh winter and landing there in paradise. The warmth with that amazing smell all around me.”