Kept from You (Tear Asunder #4)

I closed my eyes and sighed. It felt good in his arms. Safe. Warm. Protected.

I’d never felt protected. I’d always had to rely on myself, but with Killian… it felt as if I wasn’t alone. But what scared me more was that it felt like I’d come home.

A home I’d never had before. At least, not one I could remember before my dad died.

“I’m home,” I whispered.

“Yeah.”

But that wasn’t what I was talking about.

Killian carried me to my bedroom then lowered me to the bed. “Let go, baby.”

Baby? Did he just call me baby? Oh, God, he couldn’t say things like that.

I uncoiled my arms from his neck and leaned back on the pillow, closing my eyes. “Thank you.”

“You won’t thank me in the morning,” he said.

“Why not?”

His hands were on my right foot, and my heel slipped off and clunked on the floor. “We’re not talking about it while you’re piss drunk.”

“I’m… not… pissss drunk.”

“You are.” His fingers encircled my ankle as he raised my left foot and tugged off the other high heel.

“Mmm, maybe. A little,” I murmured, closing my eyes and snuggling my cheek into the plush pillow.

“Lift your butt.”

His hands were on either side of my waist, and I sighed when the tip of his finger brushed my bare skin.

He grunted.

I kept my eyes closed, imagining him climbing onto the bed and straddling me. Then the feel of his hard body on top of mine, his hips grinding into me.

“Jesus Christ. Stop,” he barked.

My eyes flew open, and I groaned as the room spun. “Stop what?”



“The sighing and moaning. Butt.” I lifted, and he yanked off my skirt. “Where are your pajamas?”

I watched as he folded my skirt and placed it on the bench at the bottom of my bed. God, he looked incredible standing in my bedroom. Biceps bulging, tattoos vibrant and his towering frame standing next to my bed.

“Do you have a cock piercing?”

His head jerked up and eyes snapped to mine. I expected him to either not answer or change the subject because he was scowling at me and didn’t look pleased with the question.

“Yes,” he replied. My eyes widened and my sex tweaked, despite the amount of alcohol I’d drank. He walked back to the head of the bed where his fingers undid the tiny buttons on my top.

My breath hitched as his knuckles grazed my breast. “Killian.” It totally was the alcohol talking, inhibitions slandered by red wine. “I don’t like drunk butterflies. You do that to me.”

It was as if I hadn’t said anything as he undid the last button. Then he put his hand on my shoulder and eased me up while he pulled my top over my head.

“Under the covers.” He yanked them down from beneath me then drew them back up to my chin.

“She okay?”

“Trevor?” I mumbled.

“Yeah. Came to check on you,” he replied.

I tried to sit up, but Killian put his hand on my shoulder. “Lie down.”

“Okay.” I closed my eyes and my head stopped spinning. I heard low talking but couldn’t decipher what Trevor and Killian were saying. “You have good bits, Killian Kane. Lots of them.”

I heard a grunt followed by footsteps before the light flicked out.

I then passed out.





“Oh, God.” I sat up holding my head, the pounding like shards of glass piercing my skull. I rarely drank like that. Actually, I couldn’t remember the last time I had.

I glanced over at my clock. Eight. I plopped back down and put the pillow over my head, groaning. How the hell did I get home last night?

The last thing I remembered was crawling into a cab with Mars at the restaurant.

I rolled onto my side and reached for the bottled water I kept there. That was when I saw the two pills beside it.

Did I put those there last night knowing I’d feel like a truck had run me over then backed up and did it again? I must have.

I grabbed the two pills, put them in my mouth, then cracked the seal on the bottle. Tossing the lid on the nightstand, I then swallowed the pills while chugging the water.

I put the half-empty bottle back on my nightstand and lay back again. “God, never again.”

That was when I heard voices in the kitchen. What the hell?

I darted upright, which was a bad idea because the shards turned to a sledgehammer.

Oh, my God, tell me I didn’t bring a guy home with me last night. I’d never done that in my life, but there were a lot of things I’d been doing lately that I’d never done in my life.

I threw back the covers and realized I was in my panties and bra. Did I undress last night? I looked on the floor for my clothes, but they weren’t there. No chance was I in good enough shape to put them away. Then I noticed them folded neatly on the bench at the foot of my bed.

I never put my clothes there.

My heart pounded as my mind spun with possibilities. There was a flicker of a memory of Killian, but then I’d been thinking of him a lot, so that wasn’t unusual.

Jesus, what did I do last night?

I got up and went to my dresser, pulled out black yoga pants and a white V-neck T-shirt. After putting them on, I crept to my bedroom door.

“I have someone looking into it.” Holy shit, that was Killian. What the hell was he doing in my apartment at eight in the morning?

I opened the door, and both heads turned to me.

My mouth dropped open at the sight. Trevor stood at the stove cooking what smelled like bacon, and Killian leaned against the counter, a steaming mug in his hand.

“What are you guys doing here?” I held the doorframe to keep myself steady because my balance was a little off.

Killian set his coffee down and strode toward me. Even with a head that felt as if it had a ticking time bomb inside ready to explode at any moment, Killian had my girly parts tingling.

“Umm, what are you doing here?” I asked, softer this time because he was closer.

His brows lifted with that sexy piercing. “You don’t remember?”