My frantic pulse slows down the moment K pulls me into the protective circle of his arms. There’s just something about him that brings me peace. He’s able to take away my anxiety with a single touch.
The gunshot-like sound of the door hitting the wall triggered some sort of flashback or deeply buried memory of “the incident.” I’ve remembered bits and pieces of that day here and there, just flashes, never enough to put together anything concrete. The loud bang, however, somehow managed to dig into the deep recesses of my damaged brain to unearth something horrific. A memory.
Me, hiding under something as gunshots ring out.
I shudder, ice trickling over my skin, goose bumps pricking as I replay the memory. Suddenly, K’s hands are there, rubbing up and down my back, warm and comforting. The ice thaws quickly, turning my fear into a flush of heat.
“You okay?” he whispers, his breath ruffling my hair.
I tilt my head back, gazing into those cool, silver eyes. “Y-yes. T-thank you. For…” I swallow, my throat tight as desire burns hot between my thighs. My eyes drop to K’s mouth. Even scowling and bewildered, he’s beautiful.
Is it the memory that makes me so reckless? Is it the fact that we’re tangled together on the floor, our bodies pressed together? Is it the change in K’s carefully detached expression to one of concern?
I have no answer. All I know is when I lean forward and press my mouth to his, everything in my world becomes right. For the first time in ten years, I’m exactly where I belong.
K is hesitant at first, his bulk tensing up under my hands. I part my mouth, gently swiping my tongue across his full lower lip, and he gives in. With a groan, K opens his mouth to tangle his tongue with mine, the slick, velvet surface sliding into my mouth. I sink into the kiss, letting K take what he wants, giving me what I need.
A small moan erupts unbidden from low in my throat and it demolishes the rest of K’s control. His huge hands leave my back to wrap around my waist, nearly spanning the entire circumference. In one swift move, he spins me around until we’re out from under the desk and I’m straddling his lap, chest to chest, face to face. From this position, I can feel beneath me that K is excited. Very excited.
He uses his big hands to press my hips down on his hard length, dragging a gasp out of me. Electricity crackles in the air around us, charging the tiny room. The rub of his groin against mine sends hot sparks of lust up and down my spine to swirl and grow until I’m writhing on his lap and we’re both panting and groaning. I nearly tip over the edge right then and there on the floor of Gabriel’s office.
K must be close too, because he slows his kisses, allowing both of us to catch our breath. His eyelids are half shut, his mouth swollen and red and slick, his skin flushed with desire. He’s so beautiful I can’t believe he’s real.
Without warning, K jolts upright, as if he just awoke and realized what was happening. Hazy silver eyes pop open in disbelief and refocus on the present. “Oh my god. I’m sorry,” he mumbles, attempting to push me off his lap so he can stand. I resist, clinging to his body like a barnacle, refusing to part with his strength, his calm, the comforting way he silences my inner demons.
“Don’t,” I whisper. “Please don’t let go.”
K gives me a grim look, but stays. His muscles are still bunched up under my hands, as if he’s ready to bolt at any second. I press my good ear to his broad chest, listening until the pounding of his heart slows to a steady rhythm.
“What happened, Britt?” K’s voice is strained.
I tuck in closer, not wanting him to see the lie. “I-I don’t know.”
“Britt.” K shifts, pushing my shoulders back until we’re face-to-face. “I don’t believe you.” Before I can protest, his eyes go soft. “I’m not going to make you tell me, Britt. As you’ve probably guessed, I’m not exactly a… discuss your feelings kind of guy.”
And just like that, K once again took my fears and demolished them. I giggle at his description of himself. “No, you’re not.”
He grins. That single dimple appears and I melt. “As much as I love the feel of you against me, can we get up off the floor?” he asks. “I think my ass fell asleep.”
In a very unladylike manner, I snort. K’s eyes go wide and we both crack up, laughing until we’re finally able to stagger to our feet. It’s strange to see this stoic, angry, defensive man let down his walls. I thought he was attractive before, but now? Now I fear I may be hopelessly addicted to someone who may never be what I want. Never be what I need. Someone who will always keep himself at arm’s length.
The jovial mood from moments ago vanishes when K reaches for the doorknob. “Wait.” I grab on to his wrist to keep him from leaving. Shining silver eyes lock on to mine and that sensation of déjà vu sends chills up my arm, raising the tiny hairs on my neck. “Thanks, for helping me.”