Reckless (Thoughtless, #3)

My eyes fluttered closed, and I dropped my pointless objection. It was his money, who was I to tell him how to spend it? As his arms tightened around my waist, my fingers tangled through his hair. Our kiss deepened as the emotion of the moment mixed with the ache of our weeks’ long separation. It had been entirely too long since I’d been in his arms, and even though this house was swarming with people, I suddenly didn’t want to be wearing anything but the new, shiny ring he’d just given to me.

Silently begging him, I pulled at his shirt. He understood and stripped it off immediately. I ran my fingers over his chest, delighting in the warm, smooth skin, the etched lines and valleys. Leaning down, I placed a soft kiss over my name drawn above his heart. Kellan sighed and held my head to his chest.

I peeked up at him, and his eyes were closed. His expression was peaceful, happy. Wanting to see his eyes sizzle, I ducked down and ran my tongue around his nipple. Then I closed my mouth over it and gently dragged my teeth across the sensitive skin. I was sure his chest wasn’t as sensitive as mine, but I’d read somewhere that guys enjoyed a little stimulation there. Kellan’s eyes flashed open, and his smooth face morphed into a devilish, one-sided grin.

The pads of his fingers trailed down my back, barely brushing against me on their journey down my spine; waves of heat radiated from each point of contact. When he got to the bottom of my shirt, he slipped his fingers under the hem and deftly pulled it over my body. His eyes locked onto my bra.

I was traditionally a very practical dresser, especially in the undergarment department. Your basic white or cream, full-coverage bras appealed to me the most. But my sister had started interjecting herself into my wardrobe choices. Telling me that no one married to a rock star could wear a bra whose slogan was Finally a Woman, she’d taken me lingerie shopping. I’d ignored her suggestions at first, since the scraps of material she’d tried to force upon me barely constituted a bra, but then she’d started showing me pretty, elegant pieces that I actually liked. The one I was wearing now was a lacy, light pink, push-up bra. I didn’t have a whole lot of assets to begin with, but the bra took what I did have and squeezed them together in such a way that it looked like I had a whole lot more. I’d say I was stretching our honesty pact by wearing it, but Kellan already knew my body well. I was merely dressing up the package, or so my sister said. I couldn’t wait for him to see the matching underwear.

It took him a solid fifteen seconds to return his gaze to my face. When he did, his eyes were burning with the passion I’d wanted to see earlier. He chewed on his lip a moment, then shook his head. “You didn’t have to do that,” he playfully told me. “I liked the old one just fine.” His amused smile grew as he used my words against me.

Laughing softly, I yanked on the waistband of his shorts, pulling his hips closer to mine. “Yes, I did,” I muttered, before attaching my lips to his.

He laughed in my mouth, but stopped when I unfastened the button of his shorts. He let out a low rumble when I slipped my hand inside. He was fully ready for me, his body hard against his silky boxers. I wanted to feel that soft skin directly, but Kellan pushed me back onto the bed. Lips parted, his hooded eyes scoured my body as I sat on a sea of petals. Bending over, he grabbed the bottom of my shorts and ripped them off of me. When he caught sight of the aforementioned underwear, he groaned. The light pink was slightly sheer, the straps over my hips embarrassingly thin.

Looking up at me with an expression that mixed both desire and irritation, he grumbled, “Are you trying to make this last about five seconds?” I laughed and his impish grin returned. “You’re killing me, Kiera.”He kissed my stomach. “You’re actually killing me.”

As his lips wandered down my stomach, I began to believe that he was killing me; the ache pulsing through me was bordering on painful. Dislodging the beautiful, artful floral arrangement, I scooted up the bed so Kellan could lie on top of me. Velveteen petals stuck to my skin as I reached out for him. His eyes softened into an expression filled with love and adoration. “You’re so beautiful . . . do you know that?”

I felt my cheeks heat and I averted my eyes. I was . . . cute, sure, but a word like “beautiful” was reserved for my exotic sister. Kellan removed his shoes and shorts and crawled into the bed with me. Lying at my side, he grabbed my chin and turned my head toward him. “Do you know that?” he repeated.

Since I had no words in me, I shook my head. Kellan sighed and ran his fingers through my hair. “Well, I do,” he whispered.

His lips returned to mine, soft, but fervent. He moved his hips over mine, and I cried out when we pressed together. The thin barrier of my panties between us amplified the sensation. Our kiss grew heated as the fire within us stoked even higher. Breath fast, Kellan ran his lips down to my ear and murmured, “I love you.”

S. C. Stephens's books