Pain shimmered in Kain’s fierce green eyes. Her voice
gentled. “Do you think Shane would want to be in the dark about this?”
“No.”
She sighed and laid a hand on his ridiculously wide chest.
“You really think that Shane wouldn’t have figured it out?”
“All Larry wanted was to give Shane a way out. He didn’t
want him to be burdened by the mess that Justice Construction had gotten into.”
“And you wanted to help Shane.” The realization settled down
the last of her anger. “He doesn’t seem the type to allow that.”
Kain pinched the bridge of his nose. “You would be right.”
He dropped his hand, his eyes earnest. “I could give you the money.”
She stepped back and jammed her hands into the hoodie
pockets. It would solve all her problems. She fisted her hands. For once in her
life there was someone willing to help out, no questions asked. A stranger who
could make all the difference in the world.
Kain rubbed her arm. “It’s not about the money.”
Kendall dragged her attention back to him and looked up.
“Come on.”
“Just enough to get you guys situated. Get you both to New
York.”
Her fingers relaxed. “Shane already knows I’m poor as a
church mouse.” Things just weren’t ever meant to be easy. Why would this
situation be any different?
Kain turned and slammed his fist into the fridge.
She winced. “Feel better?”
“Fuck.” He shook his hand and flexed it carefully.
She turned him around and pushed him onto a stool. She
opened drawers near the fridge.
“What are you looking for?”
She found power bars, granola bars, and trail mix. In
another, she found what had to be his junk drawer. “Baggie? Towel? Something
for ice?”
“There’s a gel pack in the freezer.”
“Ah.” She opened the bottom drawer of the huge refrigerator
and spotted the blue pack, pulled it out, and slapped it on his swelling hand.
“Ow.”
“Don’t be a baby.”
He winced. “You’re something else.”
“That’s what they tell me.” She turned back to the freezer
and took out the pint of ice cream she’d seen.
“Hey. Crappy Florence Nightingale routine I can forgive.
Stealing my Cherry Garcia? That’s a no.”
“Spoons?”
He sighed. “Drawer behind you.”
“Got it.” She hip-checked the drawer shut, then popped the
lid on the pint and handed him a spoon. “I just said no to money. I deserve ice
cream.”
“You don’t have to say no.”
“Yeah.” She dug in and carved out a dense spoonful of the pink
confection of perfection. “I do.”
He plunged his spoon into the hole she’d made. “What is it
with you two?”
She shrugged. “Did you take a handout to get where you are?”
He met her gaze and squinted. “I see what you did there.”
Kendall grinned around a mouthful of cherry goodness.
“I just want to help.”
“I know, and I’m sure Shane appreciates it when he’s not
being grouchy. So he’s really not this bitchy all the time?”
“Oh, no, he’s plenty bitchy.”
Laughing, she sat back, then swallowed another bite. “Good
to know.”
“But he’s a good guy. Just too serious sometimes. And now if
you guys move to New York, who’s going to be around to keep him in beer and
pretzels? Who’s going to drag him out of his workshop and make him watch a ball
game?”
She twisted the spoon in her mouth and licked the bowl of
the spoon clean. “You’re going to miss him.”
He made a production of scraping the inside of the carton.
“Yeah, I’m going to miss the grouch.”
“And I gather from earlier that Shane doesn’t want you to be
a backer for a shop of his own?”
“Yep.”
So he was going to be her problem. And somehow she had to
convince Shane that selling the Heron wasn’t an option. Oh, and figure out what
to do with the overwhelming attraction between them at the same time.
No big deal.
“All we have is each other right now,” she said quietly.
“That’s true. Are you sure you want to add sex into the mix?
Never mind. By the look on your face, I just answered my own question.”
What? Was she wearing an “I had sex” T-shirt or something?
“Look, I appreciate that Shane’s got someone like you in his corner, but in the
end we’ve only got each other to figure this out.”
“Tomorrow is soon enough for that. It’s nearly ten, and
you’re on East Coast time.”
One a.m. was well past her bedtime. “I’m sorry we ended up
crashing here.”
“That’s fine. You can crash in my sister’s room.”
She nodded. Maybe with some sleep she could actually make an
intelligent decision in the morning. “Let me help you clean up.”
He shook his head. “Go on up. I have a few more hours of
work to do, and I can do that down here.”
She sighed and climbed the stairs. The house was silent. The
carpeting muffled her footfalls as she reached the landing. The first room’s
door was cracked open, but the lights were off. The dull scrape of glass over
wood made her pause. She could hear the low crash of surf from an open window.
She pushed the door a little wider. “Shane?”
Her eyes adjusted to the dim light. An ivory panel fluttered
around the sliding door. There was just enough moonlight to show the half-empty
bottle and heavy tumbler with a shot’s worth of amber liquor inside sitting on
the desk. She moved into the room, then closed the door behind her.
“Sure you want to do that, babe?”
The husky tone of his voice didn’t sound slurred, but the
insolent
babe
brought that firefly
back to life in her chest. She followed his voice out the door and gripped the
doorjamb, stepping back into the room. The balcony was glass and steel like the
rest of the house. The ocean roared beneath them as the tide battered the rocks
spitting spray into the night. Moonlight shimmered across the breakers—wild and
beautiful like the man who leaned against the railing. Dress pants hung low
along his tapered waist, and his dress shirt was long gone.
“Shane, why don’t you come inside?”
“Why don’t you come out here?”
Everything inside her wanted to move closer, to touch the
smooth expanse of his back and feel those muscles bunch and glide under her
fingertips again.
He looked over his shoulder, his eyes glittering in the dark.
“You want another fuck, Miss New York?” His voice rumbled, barely rising over
the crashing waves.
Her nails bit into her palm. “You’re an asshole.”
His wide hands flexed around the steel railing. The muscles
of his shoulders rippled under the strain. “I’ve been an asshole since you met
me, babe. Didn’t stop you from climbing on me before.”
No, it hadn’t. Hell, it had ramped up the lust. Not that
she’d tell him that. She took a deep breath and stepped out onto the glass
platform. She swallowed against the quick shock of vertigo. Cool air whipped
her hair around her face. “Are you just going to sulk in the dark?”
He shrugged and looked back out at the water. “Not bothering
anyone. But I don’t think you came in here to check on me for that, now, did
you?”
“What makes you say that?”
He turned and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned
his hip against the glass. “You closed the door.”
How the hell could he know that? “What? Do you have the ears
of a bat?”
He didn’t answer her, just pushed off the rail toward her.
“Worried about me?”
She straightened her shoulders. “If you pitch yourself off
the balcony, then the Heron is mine free and clear.”
His teeth flashed. “Is that right?” She took a step back as
he closed the distance. He caught her wrist. “Running?”
She wasn’t sure if it was the roar of the sea or her heart
rate in her ears as he wrapped his long fingers around her pulse point. “I
don’t need to run.”
“You don’t want to run. There’s a difference.” He drew her
wrist behind her back until she went up on her toes and her breasts grazed his
chest. The dark thrill zinged through her, tightening her nipples to aching
points. The sharp tang of whiskey burned her nose. He brushed his lips along
her jaw and nipped at her ear. “I’m tired of being numb. When I’m inside you, I
can feel again.”
She shivered. She understood the numbness now. When she was
busy, she didn’t think about her empty bed. She was too glad to see it at the
end of the day to want to do anything more than sleep. One touch from Shane and
sleeping was the last thing on her mind. She should be exhausted, but her body
was so keyed up she could only think about getting him over her or under her.
He brought his mouth to hers, hovering just out of her reach.
“Is this what you want?”
She nodded. The heat of his breath against her lips stalled
her ability to speak.
He jerked her hoodie over her shoulders and down her arms,
but instead of dropping it to the floor, he trapped her hands and brought the
zipper up to lock her arms behind her. His touch was gone. She had room to
move—to a point. “I watched your face this afternoon when I held your arms
behind you. You liked it.”
She gasped. She wasn’t sure if she liked it. She wanted to
touch, wanted to feel the warmth of his skin under her hands. But with her
shoulders pinned back, her breasts were on display. The cool night air streaked
through the thin tank she wore. He nosed down a strap, leaving only the
stretchy lace of her bra as a shield. His breath was hot and moist, but he
didn’t touch her. Didn’t taste her.
“Is this what you want?”
She nodded again and groaned when he pulled away.
“I need to hear you say it, Kendall.”
She closed her eyes. “Yes. Yes, I want this.”
“Like this?” He circled her nipple through the lace. Needing
to see what he was doing, she opened her eyes. His eyes glittered in the
diffused light as he used the second knuckle of his finger to go first
clockwise, then counterclockwise around her tight nipple. “Will you let me
touch you? Will you let me make you come?”
She pressed closer. “Yes.”
He stepped back, and she hissed. Goose bumps raced over her
skin without his warmth. He drew down both the straps of her tank and bra until
they became another binding. He cupped her breasts. “So small and perfect.” He
lowered his head, then used the flat of his tongue to swipe under one nipple
before fastening his lips around it and flicking with his tongue. Her ribs
expanded as she sucked in a deep breath. With his thumb and forefinger he
tugged at the other, drawing the tip away from her breast before releasing it.
Again and again the pressure increased with each pull. She jerked at her bonds.
There was just enough tension to hold, but she could still slip free. Instead
she linked her fingers and fell into the swamping pleasure.
The suction from his mouth made her skin tingle. Her head
spun. He released her with a
pop
,
letting the air hit her wet nipple. He switched to her other breast. The
fingers that had been ruthlessly plucking her nipple gripped her hip instead.
He drew so hard that her nipple throbbed like a heartbeat. He flicked his thumb
under the first one he’d paid attention to, and she cried out.
He straightened and cradled both breasts, grazing her
nipples with the pads of his thumbs as he trailed the tip of his tongue up to
her clavicle, tracing the dip there, then along the column of her throat. All
the while, his endless metronome of a touch brought her nipples to such
sensitive peaks she could barely breathe. He nipped her chin and finally caught
her mouth. He opened her wide, stroking his tongue along hers.
His kiss was a soft meeting of mouths, back and forth until
she had to shift her thighs apart just to stay upright. How could a touch be so
caring and so ruthless? She could taste the whiskey and the heat of him as she
ticked up another level of want. Her thighs quivered, and then the gentle
swipes turned to sharp pulls on each nipple. She heard her keening cry but
didn’t care. All she could do was chase the pleasure.
The static Shane was gone. One hand slipped under her pants
and into her panties. His groan against her throat echoed her own. “Fuck. So
wet.” He knuckled into her slick folds and circled the tight bead of her clit.
She shuddered, and her head fell back. His chest was a wall of
heat against her swollen nipples. He pinched her clit in a firm grasp between
two knuckles until she moaned his name. When he released the sensitive flesh
and started circling again, she shuddered. Restless and on the verge, she
rolled her hips in time with his touch.
His other hand gripped her ass. “Christ, Kendall.”
She couldn’t think. The riot of emotions rattled her. She
rubbed her chest against his, and her hips jerked with each swipe of his
knuckles. With his mouth back at her breasts, she stumbled. Who knew she used
her arms for balance so much? She twisted her arms to free herself. He stopped,
staring up at her.
“No.”
Her breath stalled in her chest.
He widened her stance and dropped to his knees, peeling down
her pants. “I want you like this.” His hot breath teased across her thighs
before he gripped her ass, hauling her forward. He breathed her in, then
rumbled out a groan. Kendall couldn’t stop the whimper. Both of them in
supplicant stances. She’d never felt more vulnerable or so turned on in her
life. His forearms braced her hips as he transferred his grip to her wrists,
then to her forearms until they were locked together just as his tongue slid
inside her.
Invasive, overwhelming, intimate—all the things she’d never
once allowed. Not like this. She was at his mercy, and the quick bite of fear
drowned under a deluge of pleasure.
He wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked, drawing hard
and relentlessly. Her nails dug into his forearms as words, sounds, the room,
everything disappeared into the chasm of pure bliss. When oxygen became
paramount, she dragged in a breath, and the swipe of his tongue brought her
back into herself.