“Because of the ex you told me about?”
I shrug, as though it’s not a big deal when it is. A huge one. “It’s the past. A long time ago. Doesn’t matter. There were others since. Nothing serious though.”
His eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn’t press the issue, for which I’m grateful. My demons are mine to exorcize.
“Anything else you want to know?” Kellan prompts.
I shrug and look away, as though I’m pondering over possibilities and choices, when in fact I know exactly what I want to know. “What were you doing in New York?”
I could have asked anything in the world, and yet the one question he evaded before is the one I need answered.
Because to fuck him, I need to trust him. I need to trust that he’s open and honest.
His stance changes instantly. His shoulders are tense as he turns away from me. “Business.”
“What kind of business?” I persist.
“Ava.” His tone is clipped, betraying his hesitation and inner turmoil. I know it’s not my place to ask, and it’s most certainly none of my business, but I can’t just not know anything about him. I can’t be detached like that. My body might not mind, but my head doesn’t work that way.
Our gazes meet in a fierce but silent battle. For a split second, his eyes shimmer with stubbornness. Irritation. Even animosity.
I speak first. “I need to be able to trust you.”
He blows out a breath and rakes his fingers through his hair, the tension in his shoulders magnifying. “Let’s just say bad interpersonal decisions. Relationships are great as long as they don’t turn bad. And in the end, all turn to dust.”
Marriage?
Imminent divorce?
I wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t.
I guess that’s all the answer I’ll get.
“So, what do we do about that guy who hurt you?” A lazy smile creeps up his face, and just like that, all the tension seems to evaporate from him.
God, I love it when he smiles. It’s like we’re the only two people in the world and his smile is only for me.
“You can’t beat up a guy, Kellan. But thank you for the offer.”
His arms wrap around my waist, and he pulls me a little closer to him. My breasts are pressed against his chest, my nipples instantly beading at contact. My world begins to spin just a little bit from the way he looks at me—all heat and want and carefreeness.
This doesn’t mean anything.
We don’t mean anything.
The thought is strangely arousing. Just being with him—not for who he is, but for his body, for having my needs fulfilled—is exciting.
Kellan’s lips come closer to mine. His breath smells of mint and coffee as he brushes his lips over mine ever so gently.
“Want me to make you come again?” he whispers against them. “I could do it right here, right now. I know it wasn’t nearly enough last night.”
“Now?” I’m so up for it, my breath catches in my chest. All I can do is press my lips against his, my mouth opening slightly to grant him access.
“Yes, now. Your lessons start today.”
His mouth comes crashing down on me instantly, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth slowly but decisively. Pressed against him, I can feel his body with every fiber of my being.
He’s hard for me, and possessive—just like his kiss.
His length is pressing into my abdomen, reminding me of what I’ve been missing for over a year. My nerve endings are on fire; my body’s instantly awake.
My moan is stifled by his exploring mouth.
His hands slide around from the small of my back to my hips, and in one swift motion, he lifts me up until I’m seated on the kitchen counter. I open my legs for him and wrap them around his hips, mentally swearing at the fact that I’m wearing jeans.
“You know your friend could change her mind about her trip, right?” Kellan says, drawing back just a little bit. The edges of his mouth tug up in a half smile.
Of course, I know that.
“But she won’t,” I say. “She loves anything resembling a city way too much. Why do you care?”
He shrugs, grinning. “I don’t. But you might.”
That’s my reason to back off, and yet I bury my fingers in his hair and arch my back.
“You’re damn hot when you do that.”
“Do what?” I run my tongue over his lower lip, the way I’ve envisioned doing ever since meeting him.
He groans and tightens his grip on my hips. His hardness jerks slightly against my abdomen, tenting the fabric of his jeans. Its warmth seeping through my clothes is like an electric current, searing wherever it touches me, gathering in that slow pulsating sensation in my clit.
“Did you make yourself come again last night?” he asks in that drawl of his that screams sex.
“No.” The word comes out too breathy, too fast. I can tell from the way he looks at me that he doesn’t believe me. “No,” I say more slowly, avoiding his gaze.
“Why not?”
Because for some reason, it wouldn’t have felt like you were doing it to me.
I shrug. “Didn’t feel like it.”