Killian: A West Bend Saints Romance (West Bend Saints #4)

Tempest gave me a long look. "Huh."

"Huh, what?" I asked.

"That's exactly what my Nana said," Tempest said. She tapped her pen against her notebook, looking at me thoughtfully.





27





Tempest





"You don't even look like you spent the night in jail," I joked. "You're positively radiant."

"I feel fucking radiant," Silas said, rubbing the stubble on his chin. Dark circles lined his eyes. "Thanks for bailing me out. Even though you didn't come to the hearing."

"You're welcome," I said, grinning. "It was an easy bailout, since you were released on your own recognizance. I'd do it anytime."

"What's the helmet for?"

We stepped out onto the street. "My ride," I said. "Your ride."

"You're going to take me home on your bicycle?" he asked.

"If by bicycle, you mean motorcycle, then yeah," I said, pointing to my bike. "That's my ride, right over there."

"Are you kidding?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Nope," I said. "Take it or leave it."

"Holy shit," he said. "This is a nice fucking bike. What is this, a Harley?"

"Yep, a Road King. Hop on," I said. "I've only got my helmet, so I hope you're fine without one."

"I have a thick skull. But you're going to make me ride bitch?" he asked. But he was grinning. "All right, I can dig it. As long as I'm your bitch."

"My bike, my rules." I threw my leg over the bike and waited as Silas slid behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. Then he slid his hands up further, cupping my breasts, and leaned in close to whisper in my ear.

"I like a woman who takes control," he said.

I slapped his hands off my breasts. "Just shut up and hang on."



"Do you want to come inside?" Silas asked, the moment suddenly awkward.

We stood there at the bottom of the stairs that led up to his garage apartment, like two people lingering at the end of the night on a first date, deciding whether we should go all the way or not.

"I -" I started to speak, but Silas interrupted me.

"I'd like you to come up," he said, stepping in close to me. "The apartment isn't much, just this place I'm renting from my old coach. It's nothing fancy. Not like Vegas, I mean."

"I'm not sure it's a good idea, Silas." My breath caught in my throat, my heart racing at my proximity to him. "You and me. I can't..."

I didn't even know what to say. There were so many "I cant’s"...

I can't stay in West Bend. With you.

I can't stop being a grifter. I am who I am.

I can't be honest. I don't know how.

I can't love you. I don't believe in love.

"You're the one who came back to West Bend, Tempest," he said, the intensity of his gaze unnerving me. "Are you going to tell me the only reason you showed up here was to visit your grandmother? After all this time?"

"I thought you lived in Vegas," I said. But my words sounded lame, even to me.

"Bullshit," he said. "That might be what you told yourself."

I shrugged. "It's the truth."

I was lying.

"Tempest Wilde, I'm being polite as hell right now," he said. "I'm asking, like a gentleman and everything, would you come up to my place? What I should be doing is picking you up, putting you over my shoulder, and slapping the hell out of that curvy ass of yours."

I laughed, but Silas had a way of talking dirty that made me want to do exactly what he wanted. "A gentleman is the last thing on earth you are, Silas Saint."

"You're damn right," he said. "And I'm telling you right now that I want you to come up to my place."

"And then what, Silas?" I asked.

He stepped closer to me, his mouth near my ear. "And then I'm going to make what I did to you in Vegas look like nothing."

Heat flowed through my body, the warmth of his breath on my neck sending goose bumps across my skin. "Silas," I said, still hesitating.

Hesitating until he touched his lips to my neck, right on the spot near my ear that always sent shivers down my spine. I let out a soft moan as he dragged his lips along my jawline, then covered my mouth with his. The way he kissed me made my knees weak, and I melted against him.

I was so heady with desire that I barely protested when Silas reached behind me, his arm at my knees, and picked me up, taking me up the stairs. "I told you I was going to pick you up and carry you inside," he said. "I warned you."

I should have just been consumed with lust. But all I could think about was how the way he took me up to his place was like a groom carrying a bride over the threshold.

It was a reminder of what might have been between us if things had been different.

Silas paused at the door, still holding me. "What's wrong?" he asked. "You have a look."

I shook my head. I wasn't sure what the hell I was feeling, only that I was sad. "Put me down, Silas," I croaked. My voice sounded hoarse.

He obliged, then reached into his pocket for his keys and unlocked the door behind me. "I know," he said.

"Know what?"

"You're terrified. I can see it in your eyes," he said. "You want to run."