Kiss the Sky (46 page)

But
Rose is faster than him. She has a can of pepper spray directed at Julian as a warning,
and she pushes his arm. “Get out,” she says. “Or I will burn more than just
your eyes.”

Julian
raises his hands, the skin above his cheekbone beginning to swell. He shoots
all of us one last glare as Rose opens the door and forces his body onto the
brick stoop.

“Connor,”
she says in a stiff voice. “I need you to lead Julian out and to tell the
guards to put him on a blacklist, please.”

“Of
course.” I look at
Ryke
. “If I release you, do
not
run after him.”

His
muscles stay flexed. “Sure.”

He’s
not convincing at all.

But
then Daisy says, “Sorry guys.” Her voice cracks. We all look at her, even Rose
in the doorway. Daisy clears her throat. “I should have broken up with him
myself, to avoid this.” She nods and stares at the ground, her blonde hair
shrouding her face.

“No,”
Rose says, “I’m glad we did it—or at least
tried
to do it.” Rose’s cheeks redden in guilt. “It’s our fault for not finishing
what we started.”

Ryke
adds, “I can’t even fucking imagine you breaking up with
him alone. He would have probably…” He cringes and shakes his head, pissed all
over again. I picture the same thing. Julian saying,
Baby, come on, don’t be like that. Don’t listen to your friends. We’re
so good for each other.
And if she refuted, he’d probably pin her against a
wall and scream all the same.

At
least we were here to lead him outside.

As
I pass Rose in the doorway, my chest brushes her body, and I meet her hot gaze
that warms me in a single instant. I’d very much like to be in control right
now and have her look at me
just
like
that.

My
eyes flit over the length of her in a Calloway Couture black dress, short on
the thighs, higher at the collar. And I whisper in her ear, “I know how I’m
going to take you tonight, darling.” I skim my hand over her hip before I drop
it to her ass, squeezing.

Her
breath shallows, and then I walk down the stairs towards the half-ape who kicks
over our trashcan.

I
can practically feel Rose smiling behind me.
 

[ 45 ]

CONNOR COBALT

I steady her in my arms, maintaining my intense
rhythm. Rose sits on my lap, her legs wrapped around my waist while I lean
against the headboard of the bed. Even with her on top, I guide her. I make the
decisions and route the path. My hands grip onto the flesh of her hips, and I
buck up into her with rough exhilaration.

She
moans. I think I hear my name from her muffled voice. She can’t speak, even if
she wants to. I’ve shoved her panties in her mouth. And her hands have been
tied behind her back with my leather belt.

I
stop moving, and her head lolls like she’s been riding a rollercoaster for the
past twenty minutes. And maybe she fucking has. I’ve been alternating between
taking her by the waist and maneuvering her own body up and down on my cock,
and then keeping her still as I thrust my own body up. My chest rises and falls,
and I try desperately to ignore the throbbing sensation in my groin. But I want
to play with her, not just fuck her into submission.

“Pop
quiz,” I say in a ragged breath. “One word to describe what you’re feeling.
Only one.” I remove her lace panties from her mouth, and her breathing deepens
as if trying to catch the air she didn’t have.

“Don’t
be so dramatic,” I tell her. “You have a nose to breathe through. Or have I
fucked your anatomy knowledge right out of you?”

Instead
of glaring, her lips lift and her eyes lighten. I press my fingers underneath
her chin and lift her gaze. “You like that,” I say, not asking. “You like me
fucking you so hard that your brain empties of all those traversing thoughts.”

She
sways on my lap like she might fall backwards. I hold her tighter, one hand on
her back to keep her upright while I slip my fingers into her collar, gripping
it forcefully to support her head.

“One
word,” I remind her. “Even if it’s as ineloquent as the word
cock
. Right now.”

She
licks her bottom lip and my eyes train to it.
Don’t move, Connor.
But it’s a struggle. Everything she does makes
me want to take her hard and fast. And then she gives me her answer in a
single, soft breath.

“Concupiscent.”

My
eyebrows rise. “That’s a big word.”

She
gleams with pride.
Oh no, Rose. That was
not a compliment
. I pull her collar and she leans forward on my command. My
lips brush her ear. “You’re still thinking properly,” I tell her. “Apparently I
haven’t fucked you hard enough.”

I
feel her sex tighten around my erection in quick, short pulsing motions. Her
mouth needs to catch up with her body. It has no trouble begging for me.

I
don’t move yet. I let her soak and squirm while I wait, trying my best to
harness my own aching needs. “One word,” I say again. My fingers dig into the
soft skin on her hip and then I slide my fingers, edging up the length of her
thigh.

“Lascivious.”
Her pronunciation slurs on the end and her head falls back, her eyelids
fluttering as I begin to thrust again.

I
stop after two short pumps. “One word.” I yank the collar and her eyes shoot
open.

“Passion.”
Better.

I
let go of the collar and place both hands on her hips, and then I lift her off
my shaft. I watch the way her body responds in distress. Not liking that I’m
taking her away from me. When I bring her back down, filling her up, I do it
hard. Our bodies make noises together. Flesh on flesh. Groans against moans.
Ragged breathing that fills the silent air. I do it three more times, basically
bench pressing her on my dick.

It
might be my second favorite position. Right behind having her spread apart,
tied up, gagged and left soaked and waiting on the bed.

On
her third or fourth sharp gasp, I pause again, keeping her motionless with me
deep inside.
 
“One word.”

She
doesn’t hesitate. “Fuck.”
There we go
.

I
take her in my arms again and make sure it’s the last word she remembers.

* * *

We talk for a while, Rose on her stomach, the
comforter at her waist while I have an elbow propped on my pillow. I run my
hand over her lower and upper back, massaging any tense muscles and engraining
the velvet of her skin in my mind.

I
adore these moments after sex, almost as much as the actual act. Her stress has
been reduced to a minimum. Even when she talks about her to-do list—her worries
and fears—it’s with an easy breath, not a strained one.

“I
don’t think I’m going to be able to keep Daisy with us after the show ends,”
Rose says softly. “I talked with my mother, and she won’t let her leave.” She
has her cheek on her pillow, turned to me. “Maybe if there’s a season two,
she’d be able to live with us.”

A
season two? Another six months dealing with Scott, with invasive cameras
following our every move? “You’d want that?” I ask.

“No,”
she says frankly. “I already have what I wanted out of the show. Fizzle stocks
are high. A couple retailers are looking to store my pieces. People sympathize
more with Lily than they ever have.” This last fact has her smiling. “That’s
the best part,” she admits.

It’s
hard to deny Lily’s love for Loren or his love for her when they’re always
together on the show. “They’re easy to root for,” I say, kissing her shoulder.
“You just have to understand them first.” That’s the hard part. Being willing
to look past their addictions and see a person.

She
shuts her heavy eyes for a second, but I don’t want her to sleep just yet. I
have to ask something important while she’s in a complacent mood.

“About
the wedding,” I start. And before I can finish, she interjects, her eyes
shooting open.

“Oh,
I’ve been meaning to tell you, I showed Lily her wedding gown the other day,
and she was
happy
, Connor.” Rose
smiles like it’s a fantasy. My stomach twists in knots. She supports her body
on her forearms to look at me better. “She squealed and bounced like she was
excited. I think she’s finally ready to get married.”

“That’s
great,” I say, not able to control my stilted voice. “I’m happy for her.”

She
frowns, and then she hits my arm. “You don’t sound happy.”

My
hand stops on her lower back. “I’m with a girl who refused to take part in
childhood games of marriage, and now you’re fawning over someone else’s
wedding.” She’s told me before that when Lily and Lo pretended to get married
as little kids, she destroyed all of the flowers by ripping them off the stems,
and then she called everyone “stupid” and stormed away.

“If
you’re worried whether I’ll mutilate the flowers at their wedding, don’t be. I
picked them out. They’re having orchids.”

“I
changed them.”

Her
eyes jolt further open, and she sits all the way up, holding the sheet to her
chest. She points at me. “If my mother swayed you to orange lilies and teal
ribbon—”

I
cover her mouth. “I didn’t consult your mother on any of the final
arrangements, I promise.”
 

“Then
what’s this about?” she asks. “You look like you failed a math test.”

I
edge close to her and kiss her temple. “I was just thinking about us.”

She
freezes. “And it upset you?”

I’ve
always been the most confident, the most prepared, but never the most
forthcoming. And all of these are being overturned. How can you be confident
when someone else holds your fate? I can’t make my own if she’s won’t deal me
some cards.

“I’m
all in,” I tell her. “I want the kids. I want the wedding ring on your finger.
I want all of it with
you
, Rose.
Where’s your head at?” We haven’t talked about this in months. The last time we
did, she denounced my vain concept of children, but after dealing with Daisy,
Lily—she has to see that we’d be good together, beyond academic rivals, beyond
great sex. We’re compatible in
life.
And
that’s what matters most.

She
shakes her head as she stares off in thought.

My
chest constricts, and I try to make this easier for her. “Imagine yourself in
two years. What do you see?”

After
a long silence, she says, “I see you working for Cobalt Inc. beside your mother,
and I see us taking vacations together with my sisters and their boyfriends or
husbands, whatever they’ve done in two years.” She rolls her eyes but smiles at
that future.

I
wait for her to finish, but that’s it. “What about Calloway Couture?”

“I
don’t know. I’d probably have more employees to help me. I wouldn’t be so
focused on it, or at least, I don’t want to be.”

I
frown, not expecting this answer at all. “But you love fashion.”

“You
loved Wharton.”

I
shake my head at her. It’s not the same. And I’ll show her why. “Can you really
quit your business, Rose? Would that make you happy?”

She
lets out a deep breath like she’s combatted with this all before. “No. I would
be miserable without Calloway Couture, but I’m miserable trying to keep it
running. I have no control in what happens to the line once it goes in the
store. It could be pulled in a year, less than that. And then I have to work
hard all over again. For what?”

“So
that women may wear your clothes, darling.”

“It’s
foolish.”

“It’s
not even
close
to that, Rose,” I tell
her with narrowed eyes. “You give women clothes that they can feel confident
in. You empower them in a way you know how, and
that
will never be foolish. That’s beautiful and brilliant and
something you can’t forget.”

And
then she kisses me. Her hand clenching my hair as her lips press against mine.
I smile and urge her lips open for a second, our tongues meeting in an embrace
that clutches my mind and refuses to let go.

But
she breaks first, holding my cheek in a delicate hand. “Thank you,” she says.
“You’re right—” She puts her fingers to my lips. “Don’t you dare gloat.”

I
try not to grin too much.

Her
lips rise. “I’m going to try to find a way to be happy with what I have. I
don’t want to keep thinking it’s never enough. And I’m not ready to give it all
up either.”

I
grab her hand, dropping it from my mouth. “That’s a smart decision.” I brush
the bottom of her reddened lip. “And in ten years, when your sisters and their
husbands have children and families of their own, what do you picture for
yourself?”

“I
can’t look that far,” she refutes.

“Lies,”
I scoff with the click of my tongue. “You’ve mapped out your life already.”

“How
do you know?”