Dust (15 page)

"You okay?" he panted, though his hand didn't stop.

"I-I..." I didn't know what to say. I groaned. I wrapped my leg around his and rubbed myself against him. My eyes rolled back, my body bowed, forcing my breast more into his hand and my pussy tighter against his thigh. This was agony. Sweet agony.

He leaned down and kissed my neck before whispering in my ear, "I can make it better." No sooner had he said the words than his hand was gone, out of my shirt. The needy sound that came out of me was totally foreign, and I didn't care. Then his hand was on my bare thigh, pushing up my skirt. He found the seam of my panties. I held my breath, waiting, wanting. If he didn't touch me soon, I was going to die. I knew it. It was the only possible explanation for my quaking body. His finger slipped between my folds. I gasped, but his low oath covered it.

"So fucking wet."

I grabbed his shoulders, practically climbing his body to get as close to him as possible. I tightened my leg around him, not wanting him to get away. His finger explored, and I dug my head into the side of his neck, panting.

"That's it, baby," he breathed into my ear. His finger grazed my clit, and I bit down on his shoulder. He winced, but I couldn't unlock my teeth because his finger moved faster and I forgot how to think. I licked his salty skin and moaned, my body contracting, seeking the edge. I wanted to jump, fly over it. It was happening so fast, but not fast enough. I squeezed him to me, my whole body tense. "C'mon, baby," he breathed.

Stars blinded me. His hand moved. A finger breached me, fucked into me as his palm continue rubbing my clit, drawing out my ecstasy. I threw my head back, words tumbling from my mouth. I'm not sure what I said, but as my body shook, I couldn't stop the words from coming.

"I've got you. I've got you," Killian kept repeating in my ear. In the distance, I felt his hand slip away and his arms wrap around me. He rocked me as he continued whispering calming, comforting words to me. I held onto him, too... I didn't know how to describe it. Too scared, I guessed, to let go of him. The breath I took was ragged, making me choke, and I realized I was crying.

The first time I'd cried since closing down all those years ago. It felt so foreign, but wonderful on a completely different level. The next breath I took calmed me slightly and I exhaled slowly. "S-sorry."

"Don't be." He kissed my cheek in several places, and I realized he was kissing my tears away. "Since you aren't kicking and beating me, I take it these are happy tears?" He looked into my eyes as he swiped his thumbs underneath them.

My smile was shaky, so I nodded. "Don't know what came over me."

"Orgasming can be mind-blowing, firecracker. The one you just gave me was...
shit
, it was the best moment of my life, and I'm not just saying that."

Looking for a distraction from my silly tears, I reached for his penis because, well, I just wanted to. "Is it still sensitive?" I asked as my fingers trailed lightly over it.

He groaned and grabbed my wrist. "And hard." He pulled my hand away and kissed my palm. "You okay?"

I nodded. "Why is it still hard?" He'd come already.

He leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Because you turn me on. I've been sporting wood around you for weeks."

My face got hot. I didn't know how to respond to that. While he looked into my eyes, I realized my uncertainty didn't stop there. "
Now what?"
echoed through my mind. We hadn't put labels on anything, but it'd be hard to go back to what we were before this night.

"Can I take you out? On a date, I mean."

"Huh?" I frowned at him. Had I voiced my concerns out loud? I swallowed, waiting.

He chuckled. "Okay, that wasn't very smooth. Since we haven't been calling our relationship anything specific, I didn’t want to push you into actually dating."

"Are we calling our relationship anything specific now?"

He shrugged. "I don't need a label to define how I feel about you, but I would like to try dating. I haven't really done that either, so we can still start out slow. Monday, my granddad's nurse is taking him to the senior center for a luncheon. He'll be gone most of the day. I was thinking I could fix us some lunch. If you survive my cooking, we could try a date in public after that. Something completely typical, like a movie." He wagged his eyebrows. "Or roller derby lessons."

I smirked. "I'm not an expert, but I don't think the latter is considered proper courtship."

Winking, he said, "I just want to see you fall on your ass. But no pressure to skate like a rockstar or anything."

"Ha! Says the man who offered to cook me a meal.
That's
a lot of pressure," I teased. "You sure you're up to the challenge?"

"I'll let you be the judge." He shrugged confidently. It was cute how sure of himself he was. "So is it a date?"

"As long as you promise to cook some pineapples in something."

He smiled. "Anything for you."

Yeah, that made the butterflies come back.

T
he last twelve
hours had been surreal. I already knew I was in love with Killian, but touching him...and letting him touch me...was more than I could have ever dreamed. Pasts and defining moments, labels and futures, these were all things I hadn't put much thought into before meeting Kill. If I had dwelled on any one thing, it had always been shrouded in negativity since I never allowed myself to embrace the happier side of my life. I'd been choking with guilt, but if I were completely honest, I was also scared to live completely. Now, I wondered if I'd used my sister's death as an excuse to die with her.

I'd been living in my comfort zone for years, and in the span of a few months, that zone had widened considerably. I doubted I'd ever be completely rid of it. I had no plans of being reckless. In effect, I would always be in a comfort zone, with short field trips beyond its borders before annexing any more security into my mental neighborhood. I was okay with that. I was more than okay with that. Did that mean I would start going by my first name again? Doubtful. I'd been going by my middle name for longer than I had my first name. No, I wouldn't go back to that name.
That
girl was dead. I just wasn't going to pretend I was also. The fact that I'd even considered it would probably be considered a major breakthrough to all my previous counselors. Hell, even my mom. I smiled to myself. No way was I telling her.

"What's that smile for?" Jewel asked as she curled her hair. She had class this morning, but the girl thought going outside without proper hair and makeup was a grievous sin.

I looked at her through the reflection of her mirror. "Just thinking about life."

She put down her curler and faced me. "You know, you never smiled when you first got here. I was worried, but didn't feel like it was my place to pry. We didn't know each other very well then."

I quirked an eyebrow at her. "So you think you can pry now?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Maybe."

Taking a deep breath, I considered telling her everything. She was the only female friend I had, but I never felt like she took me in out of pity. She would listen. She would understand. There was no doubt in my mind of that. As I thought about that, I knew I wanted her to know. I walked over to her bed since it was right beside her and sat. "My sister and I were abducted when I was ten. I got away. She didn't. I've felt guilty about that for a long time."

"Oh my god," Jewel breathed. "You poor thing." She came over and sat beside me. "What happened?"

And I told her. Just like I'd told Killian. I watched as her eyes teared up for me and felt completed awed by it. "If not for the kid who walked in and told me to leave, I might not be here today. I still remember his haunted eyes, his worn ball cap. I remember like it was yesterday. But I didn't get a last look at my sister." I sighed, the weight of the story taking its toll. "My parents divorced, and we moved away. It was too hard on them to stay."

"No wonder Gabe said something about you living here again." Then she gasped, the color draining from her face. "I remember that. I was nine when it happened. But I remember." She grabbed my wrists. "Holy shit. That was you?" She shook her head, seeming to grasp for more words. "My dad was governor then. I'd walked into his office while he was talking to the fire department about a house that had caught fire. Mentioned something about the girl who'd been taken had been killed." She tilted her head. "He only mentioned one kidnapping."

I bit my lip, realizing my error. I hadn't expected anyone outside my family or therapists to remember the details of my abduction, so I hadn't considered how to explain it in that situation. I cleared my throat. "Since I was only missing a few hours, the media hadn't been alerted. It's not like today when there's missing children and messages go out instantly. By the time the evening news hit, I was already back home. Since my sister and our abductor had both been killed in the fire and I wouldn't have to testify about what had happened, my parents decided to keep me off the official reports. I'm sure a lot of strings were pulled to make that happen, but it happened one way or another. My name isn't anywhere in the court records, and all my therapy sessions were confidential. As far as the public is concerned, I wasn’t even a party to that fateful afternoon. When in reality, it was my fault it even happened."

Jewel huffed. "Now wait a dang minute, girl—"

I lifted my hand to stall her. "I'm working on the blame thing. What I meant was it was my idea to go to the park and help that kid."

"Not sure if I'll accept that correction just yet. You were just a kid, Liv." She looked at me with pleading eyes, and for the first time, I felt the agitation of my mom, therapists, and the host of other people who'd tried to convenience me I wasn't to blame.

"I know," I breathed. "Anyway, I'm working on the new me now, which is why you get to see my awesome teeth." I smiled really big, flashing my pearly whites.

She snorted. "Yes, yes, so beautiful." Rolling her eyes, she turned back to her hair.

"You're going to be late for class if you don't stop primping," I warned.

"Gah, if you hadn't pulled me in with the fascinating—yet horrible—story of your past, I'd be done already." She waved her hand dismissively at me.

I chuckled. Just like Jewel to weaken the enormity of my earlier words in exchange for light-hearted banter. She touched up her hair and hopped up. She grabbed her phone and frowned. "Gabe sent me a text." She examined it. "Ugh, it was on silent. Anywho, he wants to meet for coffee tomorrow." She squealed, and I seriously hoped I didn't go all stupid over Killian like that.

Yet, I knew the wretched answer to that. I'd taken a beating from the stupid stick. I was just as touched as Jewel when it came to our guys.

"It's not a home cooked meal, though," she said, winking at me.

"God, don't start again. It's just food." She'd droned on and on about how romantic a gesture it was for Kill to cook for me. It had been all I could muster to change the subject. And no, I hadn't told her about our make-out session last night. It still felt too personal. I was sure in time, I would be eager to jump up and down with my BFF and swap kissy-face stories. It was an inevitable side-effect of my encounter with the stupid stick. But I'd hold off on that for now. I needed to keep my squealing to a minimum.

"Okay, okay. You're just a baby." She pouted playfully. "I have to go anyway." She grabbed her purse and books before leaving.

I checked the time and smiled. I had just enough time to shower and get ready before Kill would be here to pick me up. I clapped and a strange noise came out of me. I immediately stopped and frowned.
"Fuck."
I did not just squeal. Oh, but I did. No doubt about it. Then I smiled to myself. "Doesn't count if no one sees it," I muttered while searching for something to wear on my date. Yeah, it was a flimsy excuse. So what?

I showered and got ready in record time, or at least I thought so until I got a text from Killian saying he'd be there in two minutes. I looked at the clock on my phone and groaned. Apparently I'd been in the shower longer than I thought. Probably clapping and squealing. Whatever. I was admitting nothing. Ignorance was bliss and all that crap. I fired off a text, telling him I'd meet him in the parking lot, and grabbed my stuff.

He was already there when I got downstairs, and I had to stifle a gasp when I saw him standing by the passenger door with a flower. A freaking flower.

"Too much?" he asked when he handed it to me.

"Hell, I don't know. But it's pretty." I sniffed, shutting my eyes and losing myself briefly in the romantic gesture. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He kissed me, but it was only a swift brush of his lips against mine. I wanted more, but didn't try to get it. There had to be a line between being attracted to a man and being a slut. I didn't want to cross that line...maybe just dance on it a little.

He opened the door for me, and I almost giggled. Then I chided myself. If anyone should witness the stupid girl tendencies, it would not be Killian. Hell-to-the-no. Not happening. I would try to save the stupid girly moments for only those people with the same girly parts. Deep down, I knew other females understood. Like a beating with the stupid stick was a right of passage that came along sometime after we discovered we had boobs and before the first boyfriend. An understanding among all women. I hoped this phase was short-lived. Most girls probably learned to deal with theirs when they were getting their first periods and having slumber parties. Those awkward years where boys didn't notice as much because they were too busy tripping over their sudden size twelves and speaking with a mix of lower voices interspersed with painful squeaks.

I was old enough to drink alcohol, not the greatest age to just now be learning how to deal with this phase.

We made small talk on the way to his house. When he held my hand, I tried not to make any embarrassing noises.

I wasn't sure I succeeded.

After he pulled into his driveway and killed the engine, I hopped out before he had a chance to come around and open my door for me. Offense would be a good defense when it came to the squeaks and squeals.

"You don't live very far from campus," I said as I met up with him in front of his truck. I followed along side him to the door.

"That's a good thing," he said when he unlocked the door. He pushed it open and motioned for me to enter before him. "Home sweet home."

I chuckled. It was not a giggle. "This is nice."

He shut the door and took my hand. "C'mon, I'll show you around."

"Something tells me this will take longer than the tour of my dorm room."

He winked.

I wanted to jump his bones.

Gah! Maybe it was just nerves. Yeah, that had to be it. Being nervous had to make one's emotions jump all over the place. This was new territory for me, so I had every reason to be nervous. His hand was a little slick, so maybe he was nervous, too. I took a deep breath. Okay, I couldn't help the silly girl moments when they popped out, but I didn't have to berate myself. I was in love with Killian. I already knew that. He didn't make me nervous. It was the fear of the unknown. With him, I could do this. Be the woman I'd never allowed myself to be. I squeezed his hand as he led me down a hall. He look down at me and smiled. Then stopped.

"You look beautiful. I don't think I told you that." He kissed me, a brief meeting of our tongues that shot fire down my back. "This is the bathroom." Oh right, the tour. I glanced at it and nodded. Yep, it was a bathroom. He took me through the rest of the rooms, showing me where his granddad's room was, his nurse's room, an office, another bathroom, a workout room, and his room, which I glanced at only briefly. The glance was long enough to reveal a huge bed, the sight of which nearly caused me to hyperventilate.

"This house is much bigger than it looks from the outside."

He led me past the formal living room and dining room to the kitchen. It was open to a nice sized den. "Yeah, my grandparents had this house built when they got married. It's dated by today's standards since the only time it was remodeled was about twenty years ago. The only reason they did it then is they had the house completely rewired and plumbed. Granddad said he wasn't thrilled doing it because Grandma got carried away redoing the entire house. What was supposed to be a project to update the inner workings of the house became a complete remodel." He smiled and walked over to the oven. I pulled out a stool at the bar and sat.

"I'm sure that cost a lot of money."

"Oh yeah." He pulled out something that smelled like pineapples. I bit my cheek to keep from smiling too brightly. "But he can afford it."

"How?" I asked as a distraction to Killian's thoughtfulness.

He dropped the potholders next to the hot dish. "He owns Cecil's Offshore. Started out with some fishing boats with his father—also named Cecil—and together grew a local empire out of that.” He took a lid off a pot on the stove and stirred what was in it. Wonderful scents enveloped me, and my stomach growled.

"That smells so good," I mumbled. I probably moaned, too.

"I hope it tastes just as good. We're having pineapple-crusted pork loin, white cheddar macaroni and cheese, and Italian green beans."

"Is it ready?" I asked and slid off the stool. "I'm so hungry I could eat through this counter to get to the food and still want to eat."

He guffawed. "Jesus, woman. Give me two minutes to get our plates ready. Don't destroy my kitchen."

I walked over to stand beside him and watched as he dished out the food. "Can you grab some drinks out of the fridge?" He inclined his head in the direction I needed to go, as if I couldn't see where the big white appliance was.

"What should I get?" There was a variety of canned and bottled beverages.

"Shit, I should've gotten wine. That would've been better." He turned toward me with a frown.

My heart raced, but not in a good way. "No wine. I don't drink it."

He cocked his head to the side. "Why?"

I shook my head. I didn't want bad memories to invade our date. I wanted this to be a happy memory I could look back on, not one where I freaked out and it ended terribly.

Without hesitation, he moved to stand before me and pulled me into his arms. "Never mind." He rubbed my back gently and kissed the top of my head. "How about a beer? Or Dr. Pepper if you don't want to drink."

"Beer would be good." I could use one now. He nuzzled my hair before pulling away and getting our drinks. Since he'd taken my job away, I grabbed the plates. The food looked delicious.

"Hey." I looked up, startled. Killian stood by the entry door of the kitchen. "You gonna follow me into the dining room or continue to stand there and drool all over our food?"

I glowered at him, trying not to smile at the teasing reprimand. "I'm coming." I stalked past the smug man and into the dining room. He followed closely behind me. I knew this because I could hear his soft chuckle tickle my hair.

"Over here." He stepped to one of two chairs that already had a place setting. He put a beer down at it and leaned over to put the other drink at the opposite one. I put a plate down at the one closest to me and then moved toward him and set the other one there. He pulled out the chair and looked at me expectantly. I half-smiled and sat, allowing him to push the chair in for me. Okay, that was kinda nice. I picked up the fork and took a bite before I lost all my manners and dove in face first.