by Ashley Jade
My time is up…the angel of death has come to collect his debt.
Christ on a cracker. I knew I shouldn’t have walked inside. But after seeing the shattered glass in the hallway and my slashed door—I panicked and figured there was an actual emergency. And since I left my phone inside my apartment and couldn’t call the police, I decided to go inside and assess the damage myself.
Huge mistake. The last thing I expected to find was some man hovering over my bed with an axe.
If I make it out of this alive, I’m going to insist my crappy landlord hire security for my crappy apartment building. Although I doubt he’ll take me seriously given I’m moving out tomorrow.
Provided I live to see tomorrow that is.
I fly down the stairs and do a quick feel around for my keys, cursing under my breath when I come up empty. They must have dropped out of my sweatshirt pocket when I started running.
My stomach feels queasy when I realize I have nothing but my two legs to make it to safety.
Heart lodged in my throat, my sneaker-clad feet hit the pavement of the parking lot. I almost slip and bust my ass when thunder booms again and it starts to downpour.
My ticker is pounding so hard I barely hear the footsteps behind me. Fear skitters up my spine and I rev up my pace.
A deep voice roars something that sounds like my name, but thunder rumbles above me and the rain falls harder, drowning them out completely.
Anxiety shoots through me like a cannon, causing my terror to fester. The only thing I can focus on is not passing out so I can make it to safety.
My muscles start to cramp due to the high-speed chase and freezing rain as I reach the end of the large parking lot and I silently curse myself for not pushing myself harder at the gym.
“Dammit, Kit,” a deep, distinctive voice bellows. “Stop.”
I shake my head. I’ve officially lost my marbles. Either that or I’m in my own version of Inception and I’ve reached another level of my nightmares.
It’s not Preston. It can’t be Preston. Preston’s gone.
He left me.
My chest contracts with a violent lurch. I miss Preston with an intensity that’s nearly paralyzing.
“Kit.” His gruff voice reverberates through my body.
I stop running and my heart kicks into overdrive when I turn around and take in a water-logged Preston standing a few feet in front of me.
With an axe in his hand.
“Why do you have an axe?” I question, trying to distinguish if this is another dream or reality.
It feels real, but my dreams are so lucid most of them do.
The axe hits the concrete with a hefty thud. “You said you needed me.” He shrugs nonchalantly like it made perfect sense to chop down my front door and he has no regrets. “I had to get to you.”
It's not so much his words that cause the overwhelming shift I feel in my bones. Or how he’s looking at me like I’m the most important person in the world.
It's because he proved it.
Preston came back like a typhoon...because he knew I needed him.
“What’s wrong?” There's a strange note in his tone—like he's torn between wanting to console me or picking up that axe and finding whoever hurt me. “Why are you crying?”
I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand. “Because I never have to worry about falling for you.”
Confusion lines his face and he opens his mouth, but I don't give him the chance to speak.
Instead, I hurl myself at him...and he catches me.
Just like he always has.
I lock my legs around his waist and I rest my head on his shoulder. “You came back.”
He secures his hold on me and starts walking. “Sorry it took so long. I would have been here sooner, but I didn't want to listen to your voicemail.”
“Why?”
The fingers on the small of my back twitch. “Because I knew I'd never be able to get on that plane tomorrow morning.”
The beat of my heart comes to a rapid halt. “You're leaving? Again?”
He stops walking. “Do you want me to stay?”
My answer is automatic. “No. I need you to stay.”
His throat bobs on a swallow. “The night?”
“And every other night after that.” I place both my palms on his cheeks. “I don't know what this connection between us is...all I know is I need it and I'm not ready to let go of it.” I loop both arms around his neck as if my hold alone will stop him from leaving. “Please don't tell me I'm about to lose you.”
His fingers thread through my wet hair. “You can't lose something that will always belong to you, angry girl.”
I can feel his heart racing underneath his soaked shirt and when I place my hand over it, it beats faster.
A smile touches my lips. I don’t think I’ve ever made someone’s heart pound so hard. But I know without a doubt no one has ever made mine pound so hard before.
The air is so thick with tension I can feel it tunneling between our bodies, like two sticks rubbing together to produce smoke…
Smoke that will lead to a wildfire.
I incline my head and his expression turns serious. “Kit—”
I don’t want to listen to Preston’s warning. I just want to breathe again.
The moment our lips connect, the sky above us lights up and my heart takes off like a rocket.
The desperate groan that leaves him reverberates inside my chest when he crushes me against the building and I taste his tongue. The contact ripples through me in a slow wave and I suck the tip, seeking more.
Most kisses leave you breathless, this one breathes life back into me.
It’s needy, wild, and reckless. Languid and hasty. It equally confuses and enlightens me.
He breaks away mid-kiss. “What are you doing?”
“I’m breathing,” I whisper against his lips.
I’m burning.
I’m drowning.
I’m falling.
All at the same time.
He slams the building he has me pinned against with his hand. “The last time you kissed me, you said it was a mistake.”
“I know.” My eyes become blurry and I bury my head in my hands.
Accepting I was gay was never a struggle for me. The exact opposite. It was something that made sense…something that fit. But me and Preston? We don’t make sense. Our parts don’t fit. And the thought of doing anything more than this…is a struggle I’m not sure I can overcome.
There’s a huge hurdle in the way, and I’m afraid if I force myself to jump over it…I’ll lose the most important parts of me in the process.
Being a lesbian is my sexual identity…but it’s also my identity. It’s ingrained in me.
It’s who I am.
“I’m not ready for what happens after kissing.” The admission sits heavy on my chest, but I have to be honest with him. “I’m not trying to lead you on or toy with you, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for anything more than—”
“Just kissing,” he finishes for me.
I nod. “I’m so sorry.”
His eyes darken, and he runs his thumb over my lower lip. “Don’t apologize for being you.” I tremble when he thrusts his tongue inside my mouth with a punishing stroke, teasing me. “And don’t apologize for doing something you enjoy.”
He starts to pull away, but I sample his mouth some more. “Does that mean you’re okay with being…kissing buddies?” It sounds ridiculous to my own ears, but I have no idea what else to call it.
His teeth tug my bottom lip. “It’s hard to answer questions when your tongue is in someone else’s mouth.” He gives mine a little flick and I shiver. “And we can’t be kissing buddies if we freeze to death.”
He’s right. The weather is brutal.
I run my lips along his Adam’s apple. “I’m pretty sure my apartment door is open.”
He hoists me up. “Hold on to me, Bishop.”
“So you can carry me upstairs
like a princess?”
He grunts and charges up the stairs. “No. I just figured you’d appreciate the extra stability when you become the first person in history to ever orgasm from a kiss.”
I’m glad he told me to hold on because I laugh so hard I nearly choke. “Someone is awfully confident.”
He opens my apartment door. “More like a determined man on a mission.”
Tiny shivers prickle my skin. “Well, before this mission starts, I’m gonna need a hot shower.”
His jaw tics as he puts me down. “Fine, but keep your clothes on.”
“Why?”
He moves a large bookshelf in front of the damaged door. “I’m not a goddamn martyr, Bishop. I’m freezing my balls off and if I let you shower alone, you’ll use all the hot water and leave none for me.” His teeth catch his lower lip. “And if I see you naked…we’ll no longer be kissing buddies.”
He stalks toward the bathroom. “I’ll have you creaming my cock before the water turns cold.”
Arousal crashes into me with a force so crippling it nearly brings me to my knees.
“No,” I whisper aloud. “Never gonna happen.”
Not only would it complicate things even more between us. There’s no man on earth who can ever do to me what another woman can.
Just because I like Preston’s lips and I’m pro-orgasm…doesn’t mean I like dick.
I’m still firmly in the lesbian camp.
I take off my socks and shoes, grateful to have my wits about me again.
And then I meet him in the shower…where we proceed to kiss some more…with our clothes on.
A kiss is just a kiss…until it isn’t.
Chapter 21
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Go away,” I whine from the comfort of my bed.
“They’ll leave if you don’t answer,” Preston grumbles, his voice thick with sleep.
Yawning, I shove the covers off me. “What if it’s an emergency?”
He grunts and rolls over. “Then they’ll chop your door down with an axe.”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I grab a sweatshirt out of my drawer and put it on. “Considering it’s probably my landlord, I doubt it.”
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
Grimacing, I exit my bedroom and pad toward the incessant knocking. “Hold on, Mr. Jenkins.” I move the bookshelf out of my way and open what’s left of my front door. “Hey…” My face falls when I see who it is. “Guys.”
My friends have impeccable timing.
Three very alarmed faces stare back at me.
“What happened to your door?”
“Did someone break into your apartment?”
“Why didn’t you call me? Are you okay?”
I look at Picasso for help, but he’s too focused on whatever’s in the brown bag Landon’s holding.
“I’m okay,” I assure them. “No one broke into my apartment.”
Although technically—that’s pretty much exactly what Preston did.
Breslin studies me. “Then what happened to your door?”
I start to explain, but the universe must need some entertainment this morning, because out of nowhere Reggie appears.
My eyes widen when I look at him. “That’s one hell of a shiner. What happened?”
He clears his throat and his gaze drifts to something behind me. “That happened.”
“Told you not to answer the door,” a shirtless Preston says dryly. The pajama pants I found for him are slung dangerously low on his hips and I try not to notice the razor-sharp V cuts above his groin when he runs a hand down his lower abs. “Got any food? I’m starving.”
Landon shrugs. “I brought bagels.”
Asher opens his mouth to object, but Preston takes the bag. “Sweet.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “Why did you punch Reggie?”
“Reginald,” Reggie corrects with a sigh.
“Why didn’t you tell me he was back?” This from Asher.
“Did Preston break into your apartment?” Breslin asks, ice in her tone.
I shake my head. “No—”
“Yes.” Preston takes a bite of his bagel and winks. “I also played a few rounds of poker with Kit’s grandmother.” He jerks his chin at Reggie. “Punched that guy.” He slaps my ass and squeezes. “And took a shower with my wife.” His face goes slack. “Anything else you’d like to know? Like the last time I beat off? Perhaps how my last bowel movement went?”
When no one says a word, he stalks off toward the kitchen.
Everyone looks at me, mouths agape.
“We showered with our clothes on,” I whisper.
I make a mental note to follow up on him playing poker with my nanna…and tell him that what we do in private is no one’s business.
Reggie clears his throat for the tenth time in five minutes. “As much as I’d love to stand here and partake in this delightful conversation, I’m here on official business.” He holds up a key. “You can start moving your stuff in today. However, the contractors haven’t finished the renovations yet. They’ll be there this week.”
Anger courses through my limbs. “I told her I didn’t want any renovations.”
“They’ve already started.”
I rub my temples. “I’m leaving for New York on Monday. I won’t be there to supervise them.”
And by supervise—I mean make sure they don’t fuck up my parents’ home.
He smooths his tie. “That’s precisely why she asked them to come back then.”
My tongue finds my cheek. “Why am I not surprised?”
His eyes fix on Preston who’s munching on his bagel at the kitchen counter. “You can always ask your husband to stay and watch them.”
I take the key out of his hand. “Anything else?”
“Not that I can think of.” He lifts a finger. “Although she did mention something about making an appointment with the gyn—”
“I have my own doctor,” I grit through my teeth.
Not that I’ll be seeing her anytime soon.
“Very well.”
He leaves a moment later and everyone’s eyes swivel to me.
“Anyone else starting to feel like Kit’s apartment is some kind of black hole that causes events to happen and people to appear so fast you can’t keep up?” Asher questions.
“Yup.” It’s not the hint of resentment in Breslin’s voice that makes my chest hurt, it’s the sadness in her eyes.
“Technically that would be the opposite of a black hole,” Landon chimes in. “Black holes make things disappear.”
Asher grins. “That was such a nerd response.” The smile falls from his face when he looks at his brother. “I’m glad he’s back. And since I want him to stay, we—I should probably go.”
I glance between Preston and my friends. I feel like I’ve reached a fork in the road and my heart is being split down the middle.
“Wait,” I say when they start to leave. “I could use some help moving…if you guys don’t mind.”
“Are you sure your husband is okay with that?” Breslin snaps.
“As long as your boyfriend doesn’t try to talk to me, I’ll be fine,” Preston bites back.
The flash of hopefulness on Asher’s face echoes exactly what I’m thinking.
It’s not much, but it’s a start.
Landon and Asher walk into the kitchen, but I reach for Breslin’s hand. “Please don’t be mad at me.”
“I’m not mad at you, Kit.” She drills holes into the back of Preston’s head with her eyes. “I’m scared.”
That makes two of us.
“Is that the last box?”
I give Landon a thumbs up. “All systems go. I’ll meet you guys at the house.”
“After we stop for food,” Asher gripes. “Someone ate my bagels.”
Beside me, Preston smiles. “I forgot to thank you for breakfast, Landon. The bagels were spectacular.”
Landon shakes his head and peels out of
the parking lot.
I close the trunk of my car. “Exactly how many meals is it going to take before you start talking to him again?”
His expression goes flat. “Zero.”
“Why?”
He plucks my car keys out of my hand. “We’re not talking about this.”
“Then let’s talk about how you played poker with my nanna and punched her assistant in the face.” I lunge for my keys. “Why are you taking my car keys?”
He holds them up in the air out of my reach. “Because you drive like a woman.”
“I am a woman.”
He slides into the driver’s seat. “Precisely my point.”
I climb into the passenger seat and scowl. “Misogynistic bastard.”
He shifts the car into drive. “Hardly. Trust me, I love women.”
“You love to fuck them.”
His lips twitch. “That too.”
I roll my eyes so hard I’m surprised I don’t see my brain. “There’s a huge difference between fucking women and respecting them.”
The groove in his forehead deepens. “If it makes you feel better, I’m an equal opportunist. I don’t respect anyone. Men or women.”
I balk at him. “You don’t respect me?”
His warm hand fastens onto my thigh. “You’re an exception.”
“Does that mean you respect your brother? He’s one of your exceptions.”
His jaw hardens. “I used to respect Asher.” He gives me the side-eye. “We’re not talking about this.”
Huffing, I plug the address into the GPS, so he knows where he’s going. When he gives me a look, I say, “You have no idea where the house is.” I raise my chin. “Considering men never ask for directions, I figured I’d do us both a favor.”
He gives my thigh a little squeeze. “Misandrous brat.”
“Am not.” I sink against the seat. “I hate when you do that.”
The ass grins. “I know.”
Since he’s going to call me on my shit, it’s only fair I call him on his. “Can you tell me why you were playing poker with my nanna last night?”
We come to a stop at a traffic light. “It wasn’t because I wanted to.”
When I gesture for him to keep going he says, “She found me at the casino.” The lines of his face pinch. “Her and her butler.”
