by Leddy Harper
“Where did he come from? This Happy guy, I mean. Have you ever seen him around before? Has anyone ever heard of him?” I couldn’t let Josh know I was aware who Happy was. Couldn’t let him know he was Killian. It would only end horribly.
“No one knows. He just appeared out of thin air. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he came from another ring. It’s not like this is organized nationally. There are rings all over the United States, and no roster for every fighter. We only know of the ones who fight locally. If he came from another state, there’s really no way to know. I’d be willing to bet he was kicked out of another team and moved here to rejoin.”
“Why would he have been kicked out? I didn’t know that was possible.”
“If you don’t follow the rules, they won’t keep you. You’re a liability that way.”
“Like what kind of rules?” I knew Josh would think I was simply interested in what he did for a living, when in reality, my curiosity was piqued because of Killian, wondering where he’d come from and where he might’ve been over the last five years.
“It’s bare-knuckle fighting, babe. There are lots of rules. Things get bad when someone dies, so they do everything they can to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Has it ever happened before?”
“I’m sure it has, but not around here. At least, not since I’ve been in the ring.” Either he took a break from explaining, or I zoned out, thinking of people being killed while fighting, and it all could’ve possibly been legal. But then he spoke again and caught my attention. “Don’t worry, Lee. Nothing’s going to happen to me. I went into the fight tonight a little cocky and unprepared. That won’t happen again.”
“Will you fight him again?”
“More than likely. If he makes it to the tourney, there’s a good chance I’ll see him in the ring then. I hope it’s for the champ, too. I’d love another chance to make him tap out like the fucking pussy he is.”
I yawned, more exaggerated than necessary, but I was ready to get off the phone. “Hey, Josh? Can we talk tomorrow? I’m so tired after my drive, and all I want to do is climb into bed and pass out.”
“Why don’t you get under the covers and let me hear you come on your fingers?”
Normally, that would’ve turned me on, but not tonight. Not after seeing Killian. I was rattled, my nerves fried and on edge. Touching myself would’ve only left me more confused than before, knowing the man I’d be thinking of while doing it wouldn’t be the same one I was on the phone with. “Sorry, but not tonight. I can barely keep my eyes open as it is.”
“You don’t have to keep your eyes open while you do it.”
His insistence added fuel to my irritation, and I was ready to just hang up the phone. “Josh…” I said with a sigh, clueing him in on my exasperation.
“I know. I know. Sorry I mentioned it. Goodnight, Lee. Talk to you tomorrow.”
He hung up, making his aggravation apparent.
I climbed into bed, but instead of falling to sleep like I’d told Josh, I spent hours tossing and turning with one man on the brain. Killian Foster. It was hard to picture him, my mind going back and forth between the boy who’d held my heart and the man who’d broken it.
He’d always been attractive, but now he was…more. Way more. Sexy. Hard. Angry. Everything the boy from my dreams wasn’t. When he was younger, he had moments when he was upset or pissed off at something, but it never lasted long around me. I calmed him. However, tonight, as he stood in front of me, it didn’t seem like I still possessed that power. He was enraged, and there was nothing I could’ve done to soothe him. It also didn’t help that I, too, was madder than hell.
Eventually, I fell asleep to thoughts of a larger, stronger Killian, doing to me—my body—what his younger self used to.
My heart was in my throat when I pulled into the parking lot. Truth be told, it was on its way there long before I even left work. It’d been four days since Killian had come back into my life—and four days since he vanished again. I hadn’t seen him, though I’d heard enough about him to know he hadn’t left town.
In a vain attempt to find out more about him, I’d asked Josh random questions about fighting and how the rings worked. Where they worked out and what the schedules were like on other teams. He was easily fooled by my feigned interest. In all actuality, I simply wanted more information on where I could find Killian…in the event I ever needed to.
I pulled into an empty parking space around the back of the building. My stomach was in so many knots I wasn’t sure how I’d made it to Cal’s gym without having to pull over and vomit on the side of the road. There was no guarantee Killian would even be here. I had to constantly reassure myself of that fact, reminding myself I could very well walk in and the place be empty. Although, it didn’t help to calm my nerves at all.
Needing an extra moment to compose myself and garner enough strength to confront the ghost of my past again, I covered my face with my hands and leaned my forehead against the steering wheel. A moment was all I had—well, more like a split second—before my door was thrown open. A half gasp, half scream, breathless and filled with panic, escaped as I pulled back to see who was there. The only thing in my line of sight was hard muscles wrapped in a ribbed tank top. I followed the lines from the wide, bare shoulder down a large arm corded with so much strength it looked like thick rope colored in vibrant ink. When I made it to his forearm, the entire world ceased to exist. I felt like I was in a vacuum, all the air gone, and I couldn’t breathe.
Seventeen
Killian
I wasn’t surprised to see Rylee at the gym. What did surprise me was how long it’d taken her to come after me. It needed to be on her terms. Her time. I’d followed her, cornered her, and now it was her turn to seek me out. I honestly thought my claim on her would’ve left her chasing after me, but I was wrong.
Coming out of the gym, I didn’t expect to see her sitting in her car. Not here. She didn’t belong in a tiny parking lot behind Cal’s, where men came to train. Train to fight. To take down other men and make them bleed. She shouldn’t have been here.
Yet here she was.
Huddled in her car with her face buried in her hands, pressed against the steering wheel, I knew she’d come for me. I knew instantly her piece-of-shit boyfriend didn’t know where she was. No way in hell would he allow her to come here.
When I yanked her door open, I had to control my impulses. I wanted to rip it off its hinges. I wanted to tear away every piece of metal keeping me from Rylee. I hadn’t thought about the prospect of scaring her until she screamed and turned wide, fearful brown eyes in my direction.
But then something else happened.
Those eyes fell to my forearm. The brown turned to gold as they glistened with a sheen of unshed tears and studied my tattoo. I don’t know how she hadn’t seen it the other night; it covered my entire forearm. The trees—in varying stages of seasons—making up her name. The top of the R created from a crescent moon. I’d designed it myself. It was one of the first things I did after leaving Smithsville. And now she finally saw it. Maybe she’d stop questioning me, stop fighting, and give in to what I knew we could have.
Together.
I leaned down and jutted my chin, pointing to the passenger seat. Without question or argument, she climbed over the center console and settled into the other side, leaving room for me to get in. After tossing my gym bag into the back seat, I squeezed behind the steering wheel.
I backed out of the parking lot…in silence.
Circled the block to navigate through the one-way streets…in silence.
Parked in front of the house I stayed at. Still no words spoken.
Leaving her with her mouth agape and her eyes wide with question, I turned off the engine and exited the car. I had her keys, so I knew she’d follow me as I climbed the five steps to the front door and walked in.
Twenty-one seconds.
That’s how long it took for her to come inside.
As soon as she crossed the threshold, I grabbed her by the arm and closed the door behind her. I pressed her body against the adjacent wall and covered her lips with mine. I couldn’t wait a second longer. Seeing her the other night and not feeling her lips was pure torture, and I refused to make that same mistake again.
Her nails clawed at my bare neck, her palms pushed against me. She kept her lips tight, resisting me as best as she could. But the second my hands landed on her hips and our bodies molded together, her fight waned. I sought entrance into her mouth, which she gave me with a sharp inhale through her nose. But it wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet or loving like her kisses used to be. It was hard and punishing. Full of anger. Full of resentment. She nipped my bottom lip and fisted her hands in my hair, tugging strands out from the knot and leaving my scalp burning with each tug.
A throat cleared from behind us. It couldn’t be Cal. I’d left him at the gym, where he’d be for a while. It would’ve been easy to ignore the interruption, but Rylee gasped and pulled her lips away, her body turning rigid as it trembled against mine.
“I didn’t know you were bringing home a guest.” Her soft voice filtered over my shoulder, and with the way Rylee peered around me in shock, I knew she’d seen her.
I grabbed Rylee’s hand and turned around to find Sophia with a wicked grin on her lips. She more than likely wanted to wag her brows at me, but probably refrained, knowing it’d only make everything worse. Without answering her or giving her anything to go on, I led Rylee through the living room and into my bedroom, and closed the door.
My lips found hers again, but this time, she put up more of a fight. With my body against hers, I walked her backward, only stopping when the edge of the bed hit the backs of her legs. Then I leaned into her, knocking her back onto the mattress, and following on top of her.
“Killian…” she breathed out. “Stop. Wait. Please slow down.”
I moved away from her face, but I didn’t relent. She wanted time to process why this shouldn’t feel so right, why she still wanted to hold on to the anger I left her with. I refused to give her time to question what was always meant to be. Instead, I trailed my tongue down her neck and back up again until I reached her earlobe, where I sucked it into my mouth and gently clamped it with my teeth. She hissed and bucked into me, surely feeling my desire for her through my loose gym shorts.
“Who was that? That woman out there…who is she?”
With my arms wrapped around her, I moved her up the bed more to allow room for me to settle between her legs. I rolled my hips into hers, eliciting a strained whimper from her chest, but she made no move to escape. “Cal’s wife. Don’t worry about her,” I growled into her ear without letting up on my intention.
“Wait.” She pressed against my chest, pushing me back. I needed to see her face, and she apparently needed to talk. So I eased up to allow that. “Why’s Cal’s wife here?”
“This is his house.”
Her brow furrowed when she asked, “Why are we in your coach’s home?”
My hand trailed up her side while she spoke, keeping her nerve endings sensitive. I palmed her breast and rocked into her again. “Enough questions, Rylee.” My fingers skimmed down her stomach and snaked beneath her skirt where I trailed the tips of my nails lightly down her inner thigh, like I’d done so many times in the past. “If I touch you, will I find you wet for me? Dripping with need?”
Somehow, she managed to pull herself from her lust-filled haze and exert more effort against my pecs. But I didn’t budge. It only made her resolve stronger, her touch harder, her round eyes now squinted in determination. “We can’t do this, Killian. You can’t touch me. I have a boyfriend.” She fought an internal war—good versus evil, right versus wrong. It was apparent Rylee wanted me the way I did her, but she struggled to accept who she would actually be cheating on—Josh or me. There was no doubt in her mind she belonged in my arms, but she had some false sense of commitment to this boyfriend.
Boyfriend.
Josh.
It was enough to send me into a blind rage. “I told you…you’re mine. Not his. You do not belong to Josh motherfucking Disick.” As I gritted out every word, I proceeded toward her pussy. I didn’t need to touch her to know her words didn’t match her desires—I could smell her arousal around me. Filling the room. Consuming me. Fueling my craving. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt her loyalty to Josh had less to do with him and more to do with her need to punish me for leaving her.
“Not anymore. You may have my name branded on your body, but I’ve washed my hands of you. You don’t own me. I don’t belong to anyone. You made that decision when you left me five years ago. When you chose to walk away from me. I’m not yours,” she ranted desperately, her words shaking as much as her legs around me. But, she didn’t let me go; her thighs kept me encased in her grasp.
I curled my fingers beneath the band of her underwear, feeling her heat immediately. The lace barely covered her, and it only took one swift tug to hear the fabric rip between us. Her gasp followed. And just as quickly as I rid her of the barrier between me and her drenched cunt, tears filled her eyes and leaked out the sides.
“Don’t cry.” I licked the trail of salt leading from the corner of her eye to her temple while circling her hardened clit with the tips of my fingers. Her body was at odds with itself—she cried, her face scrunched in distress, while her hips rolled ever so slightly against my hand. Small whimpers passed her throat in labored chords of my favorite song. Her body wanted more, but her mind struggled to hold her back.
She threaded her fingers into my hair, but it seemed she intended to hold me at bay instead of pulling me closer. Her eyes were shut as the tears continued to streak down her cheeks. The delicate lines on her forehead had deepened and her dark eyebrows drew together tightly, the space between nearly translucent with strain. Her lips formed a tight line that stretched back, almost mirroring a smile, but one full of pain and conflict.
Continuing the attention on her clit, my body softened over hers. I found myself facing my own battle. Wanting her. Needing her. Unable to walk away again. While at the same time, completely broken by her tears. Gutted and empty by the expression marring her beautiful face. I wanted to calm her fears, soothe her pain. I needed her to believe everything would be all right. But I didn’t know how to fulfill those promises. Didn’t know how to make her believe something I couldn’t tell her. I could only show her what my words failed to deliver, but the thought of breaking her any more suffocated me.
My forehead fell to hers. I kept my eyes open while hers remained closed, our breaths mingling between our mouths in a plume of muggy desperation. The second her breathing halted and her eyes squeezed tight, I knew she was on the edge of an orgasm. I quickly removed my hand, earning me glistening, wide brown eyes and a desperate gasp.
It took no time at all to lower my shorts down my hips and free my throbbing hard-on. With her legs bent, her skirt shielding her view of me—her eyes locked directly on mine without retreating—I didn’t once think about her not knowing what I was doing. Her heels encouraged me closer. Even as I stroked myself, using her arousal to lubricate my dick, it never crossed my mind that she wasn’t aware of what would come next. There were no words of discouragement, no actions to show me she didn’t want me the way I needed her.
It wasn’t until I’d pushed in halfway, that realization hit. Her hands in my hair tightened and pulled, her fingernails practically slicing into my scalp. Her eyes turned to liquid gold as a deluge of tears cascaded to her hairline.
I thrust in the rest of the way, until my skin was flush with hers, and then I stilled my movements. Her heat was almost unbearable, threatening to end it all. My breathing became harder as I tried to will myself to hold back. I kissed and licked the briny evidence of her torment away before burying my face in the curve of her neck. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry,” I whispered against her silky skin.
Her head tilted forward, fitting in the space between
my neck and shoulder, and her body shook with her hearty sob. I’d never felt pain like this before. My heart had taken a beating when I’d left Rylee behind the last time. But nothing compared to the crippling agony of being inside her, feeling her body convulse with turmoil, her tears wetting my face.
I did this.
I caused this.
And yet…I couldn’t walk away.
I couldn’t withdraw from her and offer her the distance she claimed she needed. I didn’t have the strength. Because I knew she was wrong. Her tears weren’t because she didn’t want me, or because she loved Josh—she was releasing five years of abandonment and heartache. Leaving her, putting time and space between us, wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t do any good. It would only add to the crushing emotion she already felt. My heart needed her, and hers needed me. She was the air I required to breathe, the nourishment my body demanded to keep going, the strength that kept me alive. She was the reason for everything I did. Whether she ever believed that or not didn’t change the truth.
I undulated my hips, slowly and carefully while she adjusted to my size. Her panting breaths echoed in my ears and enticed me to keep going. In and out. Slow. Methodical. My pelvis rolled into hers with every subtle thrust, and each time I grazed her clit, she gave in that much more. Her soul relenting to her destiny.
“I’m sorry, Rylee. So sorry. Don’t cry. I never want to make you cry.”
“That’s all you’ve done for the last five years.” Her confession was ground out, hoarse and strangled by the reluctant emotion clogging her throat.
I snaked my arms up between her back and the bed, and hooked my hands over her shoulders to pull her into me more. Her legs curled against my sides with her heels digging into the clenched muscles in my ass. Her feet tugged me into her, pressing our connection deeper.
“I’m not leaving you, Rylee. Never again.” I lifted my head for a moment to stare into her glassy gaze, needing her to see the truth behind my every word. The honesty in my proclamation. “You’re mine.” I punctuated my claim with a slow, deep thrust. “Always were, and always will be.”
