Whiskey Secrets

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  This time, she was the one who frowned. “He’s still friends with David.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  She shook her head and was grateful when Dare moved just a little closer. He wasn’t afraid to be near her, and that wasn’t fear running through her veins at the mention of him. The dichotomy of her past and present had never been so vivid.

  “Jeremy…” She sighed. “He’s my baby brother.” When Dare didn’t say anything, she continued. “My parents, when they were alive, coddled him. So did I. I know we did. But he was my baby brother,” she repeated. “And though my parents and I loved him, he grew up into a man I don’t recognize. He feels like the world owes him for merely breathing. He wants to be David. Wants the money and the power and resents the fact that I severed Jeremy’s direct connection to David.”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  It was her turn to snort. “Pretty much. What you saw in this office was the first time he’s laid his hands on me.” She raised her chin. “And the last time. I’m no longer in contact with either of them if I can help it. I’m not who I used to be, and I don’t want to be dragged back into a past I’d rather forget because they don’t seem to understand.” She ran her hands through her hair and let out a rough laugh. “And I have no idea why I told you all of that. I’ve only told my therapist. Hell, I haven’t even told Ainsley and I’ve talked to her more than I have you since I moved here.”

  This time when Dare moved toward her, he didn’t hesitate to run his hand through her hair. “I’m glad you told me. That you trust me.” He leaned forward, resting his forehead on hers. “I know it wasn’t easy, and I want to go and beat the shit out of both of the men in your life, guys that should have protected you, but I won’t. I’m so fucking sorry you went through that, but you have to know that you’re so damn strong for standing here and telling me. For living. You laugh with your friends. You’re making new connections every day that you work here and meet new people in Whiskey. You’re not hiding. You’re thriving. I don’t know how you do it.”

  She met his gaze and licked her lips. “One day at a time. It’s the only thing I can tell myself.”

  He leaned back and traced her jaw with his fingertip, sending shivers down her spine. “One day at a time,” he repeated.

  “Will you kiss me?” she blurted, surprising both of them. “I mean…”

  He blinked. “That’s not where I thought this conversation was going.”

  “I know, but I don’t want to talk about the past anymore. I don’t want to live in it. I want to worry about the future and the now. So, will you kiss me? Will you help me just be?” She couldn’t believe she was asking that of him and yet she knew it was what she needed. She might not know what was coming next, and this was probably a mistake, but it was her mistake to make.

  In answer, he leaned down and took her lips.

  Thank. God.

  He licked and sucked on her mouth, making her ache, and forcing her to press her legs together to relieve the tension. Because she didn’t want anyone else to barge in on them, they both stopped kissing long enough to for her to lead them both to her small apartment. They were both breathless by the time she got her key in the lock and the door closed behind them but Kenzie didn’t want to let her brain think too hard about what she was about to do. If she did, he might pull away, mistake or no.

  “What do you like?” he whispered against her mouth, pulling her closer with his hands on her butt. His rigid erection pressed into her stomach, and he bent down so he could run his teeth lightly over her ear.

  “You.” She moaned, leaning her head back. “Just…just don’t hold my arms too tightly. Anything else is what I want. Anything.”

  She knew he was swallowing back the rage at why she didn’t want him to hold her arms too tightly. “That I can do.” Then there weren’t that many words spoken between them; there didn’t need to be.

  He pulled her into her bedroom, and soon, her legs were pressed firmly against the bed as he let his lips trail down her neck, sucking and licking, sending her so close to the edge with only his month on her skin that she knew once they had their clothes off she’d combust.

  He lowered his head and kissed the top of her breast through her shirt, and she squirmed in his hold. Needing more contact, she pulled away and slowly undid the buttons on her blouse. Though her hands shook, she kept her eyes on his, needing him to know that she was in this with him and not running away scared.

  She would never be afraid again.

  His gaze lowered to her hands when she finished undoing her blouse, letting the fabric drop to the floor. When he looked at her lace-covered breasts, he swallowed hard, licking his lips. Then he had his shirt over his head and his mouth on her neck again. Damn it, she loved when he kissed her neck, and from what she could tell, he loved it just as much.

  When he kissed her breast again, this time over the lace covering her nipple, she let out a shocked moan.

  “Your tits are so fucking sexy, Red. I would fuck them right now if I didn’t know that I’d blow right then. I need to be inside you instead.

  She shivered. “You want to fuck my boobs? I thought guys only did that in porn.”

  His big hand cupped the back of her head, tangling her hair in his fingers. “I’ll show you exactly what I like. And your tits? They’re up there.” He slid his hand up her skirt, his fingers caressing her skin forcing tiny gasps from her mouth. Then he palmed her ass, his finger sliding under her thong and between her crack. “But your ass? Yeah, I think I might dig your ass even more.”

  “Then you’re going to have to see me naked to be sure.” He grinned wickedly at her.

  “Yeah?”

  “Of course, I have to see all of you, as well. For comparisons.”

  “Then I guess we should get naked because I’m going to need to lick that pussy of yours. Now.”

  She was on her back in seconds, her legs over his shoulders as he rucked up her skirt and breathed hot hair over her panties. Before she could protest—not that she was planning to really—he had her thong shoved to the side and his mouth on her pussy.

  Dear. Lord.

  He ate her out like a starving man finding a feast. His tongue and fingers worked in tandem, bringing her close to the edge before backing away just when she was ready to crest. The scrape of his beard along her inner thighs made her even wetter, and she knew her skin was damp all over. All. Over.

  Then he growled against her clit, and she came, her body shaking and his fingers sliding in and out of her in a punishing thrust. She clamped down around him, sending a groan out of his lips and against her clit. That just made her come harder.

  When he stood up, his lips were wet with her arousal, and he grinned. “You taste like honey.”

  “Really?” she asked, spreading herself wider so he could stand between her legs.

  In answer, he took his finger and wiped her juices from his mouth then rubbed his fingertip over her lips. Her tongue darted out, and she moaned.

  “Sweet.”

  “I’m going to fuck you hard into the mattress, Kenzie. You think I’m going too rough or not letting you move? You tell me. Got me?”

  She nodded and reached around to undo her bra. Her breasts felt heavy, aching. Her nipples were hard little points, and as Dare undid his pants and pushed them down over his hips, she pinched them, causing them both to moan as he watched her.

  “Do it again,” he growled, palming his cock. He was hard and thick, with a tiny drop of fluid on the end.

  She rolled her nipples between her fingers and sucked in a sharp breath at the sensation.

  “I need a condom. One sec.” He went back to his jeans and pulled one out of his wallet, opening it and rolling it over his length in the next instant. “I wasn’t planning this, and I only have the one, so we’re going to make it count.” He swallowed hard. “Probably should have come beforehand so I wouldn’t blow my load as soon as I’m inside you.”

  She loved his cr
assness, loved the way he didn’t hold back even after everything she’d told him. No, he wouldn’t hold her down or take away any of her mobility, but he wouldn’t treat her like some fragile flower either.

  She wasn’t a fragile flower, damn it. She wasn’t made of glass. She was a real woman who had needs and who had only been able to use her hand to come in ages. Now, she had a man who’d not only gone down on her without reciprocation but also wanted to make sure that this night was good for her.

  She’d take him as he came and she knew he’d damn well do the same for her.

  That was why she was throwing caution to the wind and letting this happen tonight. That was why she knew she might be making a mistake, but letting it be her mistake and not someone else’s.

  “I need you in me,” she said finally, her voice a throaty purr.

  “That I can do, Red.” He knelt on the bed between her legs. “I’ve been dreaming about having these long legs of yours wrapped around my hips as I fuck you.” He gave her a cocky grin. “Of course, I’ve also been dreaming about you riding me so hard your breasts bounce, and I just sit back and let you do all the work so…”

  She laughed and reached out to pinch his hip. She’d never thought she’d laugh during sex again. Hell, she’d never thought she’d have sex again.

  And here she was, having some of the best sex of her life with her boss’s son, and he hadn’t even let her touch his cock yet. What a night.

  “Just get in me already,” she teased.

  He grinned and positioned himself at her entrance. “That I can do.” Then he thrust in and out in small movements, causing them both to gasp. He was so thick, so freaking big, that she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to take all of him, but she was also so wet that he could slide in and out easily.

  He kept his gaze on hers until he was fully inside her to the hilt. Then he closed his eyes and moaned. “You’re so damn tight.”

  She squeezed her inner muscles, and he lowered himself to one arm, sliding the other between them as he opened his eyes. When he flicked her clit with his fingers, she sucked in a breath.

  Then he moved.

  He hovered over her, taking her lips, playing with her breasts, her clit, her hips, but never once did he hold her down or make her feel caged. Instead, she felt cherished, needed.

  She arched into him, needing him as much as he seemed to need her. And when she came again, he picked up his pace before coming deep inside her, filling the condom in spurts.

  Then he cupped her face and kissed her so sweetly, tears spilled down her cheeks. And he kissed each one of those in turn.

  Kenzie had no idea what they were doing, but she knew that once they figured it out, it might all be a horrible mistake.

  Yet she couldn’t care. Not then. Not when he kissed away her tears and made her feel more human, more like a woman, than she ever had before.

  Dare was a dangerous man—something she’d known from the first time she set eyes on him.

  But it wasn’t until he held her close as they both fought to catch their breaths that she caught a glimpse of how truly dangerous he was.

  To her heart.

  Chapter 9

  Dare knew he was a selfish bastard and what he’d done with Kenzie the night before just cemented that fact. He couldn’t get the feeling of her underneath him out of his mind. It was almost tangible, as if he could still feel her beneath him. As if he could still taste the sweetness of her on his tongue.

  He’d wanted to break something when she told him about her ex-husband and brother. He’d seen some of the worst of humanity when he was a cop, yet time and again, the dregs of civilization surprised him. He hated that he could still be shocked after all this time, that he wasn’t some jaded old cop who thought he’d seen it all.

  He hadn’t.

  While he had known something was going on with Kenzie, he hadn’t known how far she’d come. She was so damn strong; he was in awe of her fight, her journey. Now that he knew, it made sense why she formed that icy exterior when she felt threatened. Or how she’d raise her chin when she needed to hold herself close and gather strength.

  Kenzie Owens was so much more than the parts that made up her past, and he was once again in awe of her. He wasn’t worthy of the woman she’d been before or the person she was now after everything she’d been through.

  Dare sat on the edge of his bed, the silence of his empty house deafening. He shouldn’t have touched Kenzie. He knew that, yet he’d done it anyway. He’d told himself he would stay away, that he had no time for complications or anything that could come from being anywhere near his innkeeper, yet he hadn’t listened to himself.

  His hands were dirty—his past decisions had tarnished him. There was a reason he hadn’t been able to get full custody of his son. There was a reason Monica had never wanted more from him other than the small connection they had. She’d taken their son and found her happiness with a man who, in her opinion, was far better than Dare, and that was something he knew he agreed with…even if he didn’t want to.

  Kenzie had been through hell and back, and she deserved far more than a man like him.

  Yet he was just selfish enough to want more with her. He wanted to make her laugh. Wanted to see the darkness in her eyes fade away as she learned to live in the now again. Yet how could he want to see that when his own darkness filled his eyes when he thought about why he wasn’t a cop anymore?

  He swallowed hard and sat up so he could look at the open letter on his bed. It was fate’s timing that the letter had arrived that day, the morning after he’d slid inside Kenzie and fought to forget the world. Life knew he wasn’t the man Kenzie needed him to be and it didn’t want him to forget it.

  Ever.

  The letter beside him proved that.

  With regret, he reached out and picked up the fragile piece of paper that already had a few creases in it from his clenched fist. He shouldn’t have opened the damn thing. Hell, he shouldn’t even have received it. There was no way this person should have his mailing address, but things were different than they used to be, and keeping people safe and out of the public eye wasn’t always easy.

  It never was, not really.

  You killed my dad. You don’t deserve to be out of jail. Why do you get to walk free when my dad died? Why do you get to be okay when you killed him? If my dad killed someone, he would be in jail. But now he’s dead, and you’re free.

  I hope you die too.

  I hate you.

  I hate you.

  I hate you.

  The letter wasn’t signed. It didn’t need to be. He knew the child, now a teenager, who had written it. He’d never met the kid, but had seen photos of him. The little boy had his father’s eyes.

  Eyes that held no life anymore because of choices that he and Dare and his partner had made.

  Dare clenched his fist once more, the paper crackling in his hand. He’d have to save it and send it to his old department. That was procedure, and the fact that there were plans in place for this kind of thing sickened him.

  It was one reason he was glad Nate wasn’t here.

  Being with Dare wasn’t safe for his son.

  It never would be.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he angled his hips so he could dig it out, answering when he saw the readout.

  “Jesse.”

  “Did you get a letter, too?” she asked, her voice small. He hated that she whispered as if someone could hear, as if the letters in their hands threatened what they had.

  Dare stood up quickly, anger flooding his veins at the thought of someone sending Jesse and her little girl a letter like he’d just gotten in the mail. No one was supposed to come at Jessie for what went on in the line of duty. No one.

  “I got one,” he growled out. “How did you know? What did yours say? Do you need me to come over?”

  “Slow down, Dare. I’m safe. Bethany is upstairs playing and doesn’t know anything is wrong.” A pause. “And nothing is wrong, Dare. N
othing is going to happen. That child is hurting because he misses his father and he’s taking it out on you and wants to take it out on Jason. But since Jason isn’t here anymore, he sent the letter to me. I only know you got one too because my letter mentions yours.”

  “I’ll come by and pick it up and take it to the precinct.” He didn’t want her to have to go into the place where Jason had worked, had laughed, and had spent his last hours before he died.

  “I’ll come by tonight for dinner and bring Bethany. How’s that?” She didn’t say anything else, and he kicked himself for putting that uncertainty in her voice.

  “Will six work?” he asked. It was four now, and he had to work that night anyway.

  “Six is just fine. It will be good to see you.”

  There was a wealth of meaning in those words, and when he hung up, he knew that after tonight, things would have to change. He hoped to hell they changed for the better, though.

  The bar was busy enough when he walked in and went through the day’s issues. Claire had the restaurant just about ready to open for the evening, and they had decent reservations all night so he only had to go through a few things with her before heading back to the bar. He was damned lucky to have found Claire, and he had a feeling he’d be giving her a raise soon if their revenue kept up like it was.

  Work was the only safe and healthy thing in his life. No, that wasn’t true. His family was what kept him able to do anything and breathe. His family. His son. And his bar.

  But thoughts of the letter he’d gotten in the mail kept coming back to him, reminding him that while he might have fought for what he had, he wasn’t worth getting more.

  “Hey, you’re here,” Kenzie said as she walked up to him in her prim and proper innkeeper outfit complete with high heels.

  He really liked those shoes.