Falling For Ken (Blueprint to Love Book 2) (15 page)

Hours earlier, he'd stayed by her side as she'd dealt with the aftermath of the fire. Covered in soot, her voice as smoky as her clothing, she'd held herself together through sheer will. Amazed by her strength, he' been unable to shake a nearly overwhelming urge to comfort her. To fold her against him and kiss her. Even now, nervously chewing her bottom lip with even, white teeth, Harry
needed
to taste them. He was tired of fighting it. This inexplicable desire he had for her soft, pink lips. To nibble them. To watch the flecks of gold heat her gaze as she gave in. And when she opened to him on a gasp, he wanted to swallow the soft, sweet breath that would hitch in her throat– a sound that had haunted him the past two days. He remembered the fresh, sweet taste of her, the burst of warmth he'd felt and he wanted to experience that heat again. He wanted more. More kissing, more touching, more Kendall.

More than anything in the world.

Kendall stopped fighting him. That last moment, when Harry could have come to his senses, when he hesitated, drinking in her flushed, beautiful face, he felt her resistance melt. Replaced by eagerness. A heady rush of exhilaration tore through him when she reached up to entwine slender arms around his neck.

"Kenny-" Her mouth yielded to his crushing need, opening to him on a moan of both hope and defeat. She could no sooner resist him than he could her. Harry swept past her defenses before she could think of changing her mind, before
he
could think of changing his. Pulling her against him, he nearly groaned at the collision. Her soft, pliant body snug against him as his suddenly trembling hands traced the contour of her delicate spine. Pausing to touch and stroke every inch of gorgeous skin before finally cupping her perfect rear end, he tugged her even closer. How could he have thought her too small? She was the perfect size. Everything about her was absolutely perfect.

For him.

Kenny's eyes fluttered open at the sensation of his hands on her body, the golden irises glittering in the softly lit bedroom. "We shouldn't do . . . this."

Her sentence ended on a gasp when his mouth left her lips to trace the scented column of her throat. The soft fluttering pulse he found there was irresistible. She stretched reflexively, allowing him access to her sensitized skin. "Oh, God– but I want to."    

"You're right. We shouldn't do this," he murmured against her throat. Raising his gaze to hers, he smiled over her confusion. Stroking her shoulders, he lingered, playing with the narrow straps of her tank top. Trailing his hands down the silky length of her arms, he delighted when she shivered with awareness. Her nipples straining against the faded cotton of her shirt, he felt the answering punch of awareness in the pit of his stomach.

"We'll stop when we come to our senses," he agreed before giving in to the magnetic pull of her soft, bruised lips. Lowering his mouth to hers, he hesitated only a heartbeat away from her. "God, Kenny. I hope that isn't soon."

***

Kendall was smiling when Harrison kissed her again. She wanted to burrow into his well-sculpted chest and never leave. His skin was warm and firm under her fingertips. He was so sturdy, so confident– his body so incredibly beautiful under his clothes. She wanted to feel all of it . . . before Harry changed his mind. Thick, ropey muscles contracted under her touch when she stroked his back. She shivered, awed by the wanton thrill of power she seemed to possess over the beautiful, kind man. How was she possibly capable of doing that to him?

Before he regained his senses, she wanted to know everything. His incredible mouth on her skin, the strength of his body lying next to her, on top of her, inside her. She'd dreamed of her teenaged hero for more than a decade, but her raging fantasies were for the man he'd become. Harrison had rescued her from the fire in his quiet, confident way– held her hand and made the ordeal more bearable, simply by being there– just as he'd rescued her all those years ago.

She should feel guilt. It was wrong to use him for pleasure– for comfort. It was wrong because he belonged to someone else. She should feel shame that he was using her, too. Because once the moment was over . . .
they
would be over. But today, Ken couldn't feel anything. Today, too much had gone wrong. Too many circumstances were beyond her control. She was numb to everything . . . except sensation. She would have a lifetime to feel empty. To mourn the loss of her business. To pick up the pieces. But she had only today to experience the pleasure he would give her.

Tugging his shirt free of the faded shorts, Kendall paused to run her hands down his sculpted backside. "Clothes are absolutely wasted on you, Traynor. Your bod is meant to be shown off."

Dropping his head to her shoulder, he shook with laughter. "Are we back to the love slave thing?"

The expression in his beautiful, green eyes stole her breath, brimming with amusement and passion. She nodded. "Today, you're all mine." Just for today, she wouldn't think beyond the moment. She would do something wild and rash and completely out of character . . . Today, she would act with reckless abandon– a different person than she'd been a week earlier.

Harrison stared at her as though he couldn't wait to touch her– as though she were desirable. His eyes said she was beautiful. For one brief moment, Ken would believe him. Tomorrow would be soon enough to curse her weakness.

"I think you should take this off." Her voice urgent, the anticipation of his perfect hands on her body was almost too much to bear. She wanted his strong, capable fingers on her skin, stroking her, touching her the way she'd imagined in her wildest fantasies.   

***

Hell, yes
. Unable to stop touching her, Harry rained kisses down her face. When Ken's fingers clawed at his shirt, he moved swiftly to the neck of the too-tight shirt. Jerking it over his head, he hesitated, stunned as he stared into her face. Kendall's smile nearly undid him. It was so pure and honest. So eager and expectant. Lightheaded, he experienced a fleeting sense of wonder– as though this experience would somehow be different from any before. Though unlikely, he planned to enjoy the hell out of it. For a single night, Kendall would be his. But even now, with need throbbing through him for the flushed beauty in his arms, a corner of his brain was weighing his actions.

Though it was growing difficult to hang onto a coherent thought, Harry paused as the worry nudged him. "Ken, are you sure?" His words, groaned against her mouth– her irresistible, kiss-swollen lips caused a rippled of tension. Jesus– he didn't want to stop. But later– when he was home in the comfortable familiarity of his everyday life, Ken would be here . . . alone. He didn't want her to remember this night and feel remorse. They'd become friends. He liked her too much to risk chancing a misunderstanding.

"Kenny– sweet, you have to be sure." Despite her tough, no-nonsense attitude, she was innocent. And too soft-hearted. A sinking sense of desperation pulled at his chest.
Please don't say no.

"I've never been more sure of anything." She pulled his mouth down for another hungry kiss. "This is what I want . . . what we both want."   

Releasing the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, he steadied himself, drawing back to watch her as Kendall slowly drew her shirt over her head. She was so beautiful, her golden skin soft and glowing. Lush waves of mahogany hair trailed over her shoulders, the curling ends brushing against perfect breasts. Her innocent beauty so honest. How could he have been so blind not to realize it? How could any man not see how extraordinary she was?

Cupping her full breasts, she leaned into him with a shudder. "Kenny . . . God, you're . . . perfect." His voice a painful rasp, his senses were drowning in her warm, scented flesh. Her dusky nipples pebbling under his fingers, he bent to taste one. Nipping it with his teeth, she rewarded him with a soft, breathy moan. Sagging against him, her hands grew frantic as she sought the waistband of his shorts.

"Harry– please."

"Easy, love. We have all night." His cock hard and aching, he questioned the accuracy of that statement. It was entirely possible he might explode from the exquisite sensation of her in his mouth. But it was her hoarse cry of wonder that had Harry completely enthralled. Kendall quivered in his arms, her breath coming in short, wondrous gasps as she drew his head closer. He loved the sensation of her frantic fingers tugging through his hair while her sun-streaked curls brushed against him, teasing his skin where she touched him. When her fingers moved to his zipper, Harry shuddered. A moment later he nearly lost his balance when a warm, capable hand wrapped around him.

"Mercy, Harrison. Let's get you to bed before I forget myself and knock you to the floor."

The floor would work. "Kenny . . . God, yes. Touch me." Jerking against her stroking fingers, he wanted to take her there . . . standing up. Against the wall. On the damn floor.
Hell . . . anywhere.
Hot and hard, throbbing with the effort to hold back, he groaned, his voice as hoarse and rusty as hers. "If you keep that up, we won't make it that far."    

"Let's go."

Harry hobbled with her the ten feet to the bed, skin to skin, her hand molded to his butt as she assisted him. When she gently pushed him back against the mattress, he watched, speechless as she stripped off the rest of her clothes and joined him.

"God, Ken . . . you're beautiful. Your skin is soft and gold. You're like a goddess." Her chuckle bathed the room with the sexy sound of her throaty laughter, her eyes alight with amusement at the thought that she could be considered sexy. Harry reached out his casted hand, tracing the curve of her cheek and smiled what he was sure would qualify as a stupid grin.

"Maybe I should put you back on painkillers, Traynor. Those nights you thought I was an angel," she teased.

"How did I manage to catch you?"

"I've been right here . . . waiting for you. All these years," she confessed, her voice whisper soft. Harry had only a fleeting moment to wonder what she meant before Ken pulled his head down for a mind blowing kiss that left him breathless. Finally able to touch the long legs that had driven him to distraction, his hands trailed the curves of her gorgeous body. Keenly aware of her response, the smooth skin of her thighs contracted under his fingers, revealing the taut muscles hidden beneath the surface. Like the woman herself, she was a study in contrasts. Satin-coated steel. Kendall's quiet, magical beauty was locked away, out of sight and off-limits to all except those she trusted.

Him
. Harry's hands shook with the revelation. Ken trusted him. It was an incredible gift–one he vowed not to fail. Ignited with happiness, he drank in her scent, her smile, her throaty sighs. Her beautiful body was an instrument that would sing in the right hands. Drawing a deep steadying breath, he prayed those hands were his.

"Kenny, love. Tell me what you like."

"Everything."

Staring into her eyes, he absorbed every shuddering breath. Each trusting glance, every honest, exuberant smile. Stroking between her legs, the heat against his hand made him shudder. "This?" Harry resisted the urge to sink into her, wanting instead to drive himself as crazy as he would make her.

"Yes," she groaned, her body jerking against his hand.

She was so hot. So ready for him. Dipping a finger into her heat, she writhed against him. His heart thundered in response. "How about this?"

"Everything. I like everything you do." Her words ended in a gasp as her body rose against his hand. "Harry, please . . . don't stop."

"I've thought about you for days." Stroking her again, he smiled when she nearly leapt from the bed. But his smile slipped as his control began to fray. Images of her legs wrapped around him. Of gorgeous, amber eyes glazing over as he made her come.

"Dammit Traynor, give it to me." Helpless to her passion, Kendall rose against his hand, urging him to take her.

"Soon, love." Driving himself a little mad, his fingers moved inside her slick opening, making him desperate with the need to be inside her. Kendall was hot and wet and ready for him. He shuddered at the thought of finally giving in to what would likely be one of the most memorable sexual experiences of his life. The next few minutes just might kill him. She opened to him, eyes dilated with passion, her lips rosy and bruised from his mouth.

"Now," she ordered. Reaching for him, his cock jerked against her hand as she guided him to her.

A wave of possessiveness streaked over him, fisting in his stomach as her body rose to greet his. Harry barely had time to tear open the condom before she hooked a warm, silky leg around him and he was lost. His entry was sure and swift. Embedded in her tight hot center, he groaned at the absolute wonder of it. He was home. And Kenny was with him all the way. His name spilled from her lips on a cry of delight before he captured her mouth for a hot, drugging kiss. His tongue was wild in her mouth, thrusting against hers as he sank into her again.

Harry was lost– in the pounding breakers of sensation–in the exquisite flood of heat and blinding satisfaction. He was lost in her.

"Harrison . . ." She arched against him, her frantic voice sending him over the edge. "Yes. Oh– Harry."

Too soon, Ken tightened around him, her release rocketing through him, forcing his own. "Kenny– my God." Words tumbled from his lips in a haze of pleasure nearly too intense to bear. His body took over for his brain, thrusting through waves of dizzying passion that threatened to drown him if they lasted even a moment longer. The tremors continued to wash over him even after he'd collapsed beside her, his arms too weak to draw her closer, too enervated to do anything but stroke her dewy skin.