"I want you to come on me," I whisper, the words surprising even me. I want him to come on me. I want to feel him on my skin.
Then he comes. He comes between my legs, on my thighs and panties and onto my *. I don't know whether I feel more aroused or filthy. I don't have time to ponder that, because Killian brings his mouth down on mine, the scruff of his beard scratching my chin as he kisses me. His tongue finds mine gently, easily and I kiss him back for what seems like forever, but is probably more like minutes. When he runs his palms over my back, arousal stirs within me again. My body seems like it's in a perpetual state of arousal around this man, always on edge, always wanting.
"You came on me," I murmur softly when he finally pulls his lips away from mine.
His lips tug on the edges. "I know. And I'm not the least bit sorry about it. Are you?"
"I feel. . . um, well, I've never done anything like that before."
"Neither have I, cupcake." I watch as he tucks himself back into his jeans before reaching for me and pulling me toward him. His hands on each side of my panties, he pulls them up where they belong.
I let out a whimper. "I can't believe you just put those back on me."
"Sweetheart, I can't believe you thought I was going to let go of the chance to have you walk around all day with me between your legs."
I choke back a laugh. "You're the filthiest man I've ever met."
"Filthiest and sexiest," he corrects me. "Say you like it."
"I. . ." Do I like it? "Maybe."
He raises his eyebrows. "You sure about that?"
My cheeks flush warm. "It feels. . . dirty."
"And?"
"I think I might like it."
He makes a rumbling sound low in his throat. "You're not what I expected."
"You're exactly what I expected."
"I'm going to take that as a compliment." He pulls my skirt down where it belongs, and takes my chin in his hand, his rough thumb rubbing my lower lip softly. I'd never have guessed these rough, calloused hands could feel so gentle.
"You're still not hired, though."
Killian snorts. "Thanks for the clarification. Does this mean I can take you someplace other than the bakery?"
I inhale sharply, panic rising in my chest. "What, like a date? Out in public?"
No. No. No. I'm not ready to date. Holy shit, what would I even say to Chloe?
Killian's brow furrows and a dark look crosses his face. "What, you don't want to be seen in public with me?"
"I don't – I didn’t expect you to ask me out. I mean, rumors fly around this town so quickly and I have Chloe and you're not exactly I mean, why do you want to get involved with someone with a kid?” I stop myself before I say anything else because I think I already hurt his feelings. I'm floundering, drowning in my own words.
"Yeah, don't worry about it." There's an edge to Killian's voice that's unmistakable. "I'll just come by the store and we'll screw in the office and maybe in the alley behind the store. That's what you want, yeah?"
"Shit. No, that's not what I meant at all, Killian "
It's too late. He opens the door, looking over his shoulder at me. "Later."
Not later, cupcake. Just later.
Then he walks out, leaving me standing there. I no longer feel filthy in a sexy way. I just feel dirty for making him think there was something wrong with him.
But he's not exactly boyfriend material. Right? He's gruff and crude and he's a twenty-or thirty-something oh, God, I don't even know how old he is bachelor. Everything about him is wrong. He has to know that.
I don't know the first thing about dating. Not grown-up dating anyway. Adam and I dated our senior year in high school, but that was more like groping in the backseat of his car and making out under the bleachers at the football field. We were stupid enough to marry each other down at City Hall the minute we were both eighteen years old.
I have no idea how to date.
Obviously, judging by Killian's reaction to my response, I already suck at it.
21
Killian
I walk out of Lily's bakery and make the drive back to the cabin, practically fuming. I don't know why I'm so irritated. I wasn't even asking her out on a date. I really just wanted to take her to the cabin. I wanted to bring her to my bed. But then she said that shit about going out in public with me, and it got under my skin.
Like she would be ashamed to be seen in public with someone like me.
Her words set off every feeling that I was familiar with as a kid growing up here in West Bend shame and embarrassment that I was who I was, one of the Saint boys. After that, as an adult, let's just say that no one was taking me home to meet her parents.
She's making it clear that she's slumming it with someone like me. I can put my mouth on hers, put my tongue in her *, but she doesn't want me anywhere else.
I grumble as I start building the frame for a back deck on the house. The whole damn house will be surrounded by decks at this rate.