Knowing where Kite hid all this was a serious advantage. One I needed to keep to myself.
The weight of the gun was decadent. Sliding my fingers down the barrel, I recalled how it had exploded in my grip the night I'd first fired it.
Kite had chosen to share that moment with me.
Shutting everything back behind the panel, I buried my burst of guilt down. They broke into your apartment, I reminded myself. Somehow, that time felt so far away. Another world. Another life.
Had my opinion of these men really changed so much?
Fixing the bedroom, I smoothed the blankets and left the door open. I wanted to be as subtle as possible. If Kite knew that I had found his treasures, it meant he'd hide them on me again.
I didn't want to lose access to his secret stash.
I'd hardly settled on the couch in front of the television when the door jiggled. Turning, I held my breath—demanded that my heart go still as Kite entered.
His coat was open, showing off a green shirt that stretched over his broad chest. There was a hint of sweat in the hollow of his throat. Had he run here, why was he so frazzled?
Was he freaking out because of this morning? Hard screws of doubt burrowed into my lungs. If opening myself up to him about my nightmares had been too much, then I was a fool for agreeing to let him try and help.
Shit. I should have known better.
Kite faced me, and nothing in his wide grin and glittering eyes resembled regret. If I had to name it, that expression was glowing with hope.
“Marina,” he said, dropping his coat on the floor. He took two steps and somehow reached me. Had he flown through the damn air?
I started to say his name. He ended it on my lips, shutting me down with a kiss so fierce I forgot why I'd been worried.
Collapsing over me on the couch, he held my hair, gripped my cheeks, endlessly trying to touch all of me. He was frantic. Something had happened, but what?
I let him nip my tongue, my eyes rolling back. I didn't want this to end. I didn't want us to end. His desperation was melting my bones.
Finally, I put my palms on his shoulders and shoved until he gave me an inch of space. Looking into his heated eyes had me close to crumbling again.
“What is it?” I gasped, tasting him and his salty flavor on my lips. He was coated in the raw musk of action. “What's wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong,” he laughed, a lie so big it showed me his molars. “Everything is going to be fine, Marina.”
Blinking, I let my hands drift down his chest. His muscles rippled, his wink saying he'd flexed just so I would feel it. “You're acting strange.”
“You think so?” Gripping my hair, Kite tilted me until my scalp rubbed the back of the couch. “Of all the things that are strange in this life, Marina... what I want to do to you is as natural as breathing.” The rough edges of his teeth rode up my neck, capping my mouth and kissing me until my arms fell to my hips.
The knock on the door rattled my teeth.
Kite was slow to move, glancing over his shoulder with a partial frown. “Damn, that's Jacob.”
My chuckle was tense. “Are we going to get in trouble if he catches us doing this without him?” I straightened my clothes and fixed my hair. No one had explained the rules to this triad of ours. It wasn't a game that came with clear instructions.
Kite caressed my chin, kissing me through his own laughter. “You're already in trouble.” The weight of his body settled on me, molding me into the couch.
The knock came again, harder.
“Let him in,” I said, willing the breathy quality in my voice to vanish. Kite kissed like no man alive should be allowed to. “We shouldn't lock him outside.” I was actually eager to see Jacob. As intimidating as he was, he called to life a part of me that couldn't be smothered.
Puffing a great wall of air through his nose, Kite hopped off the couch. “Fine, fine. He'll smash my door down at this rate.” Gripping the brass knob, he twisted it—revealing Jacob on the threshold.
I took one look at him and noticed the swelling on his nose. “Holy shit, what happened to you?” I gasped.
The boys shared a look. I knew that fucking look.
“I was boxing,” Jacob said, shutting the door behind him. “The bag got away from me, slammed into my nose. I'm fine.”
He was smiling, but it didn't touch his eyes. A bag hit him? It was an insulting fib. “It looks like someone decked you,” I said.
He hesitated, then did that thing he was so good at: caressing my body with his stare. “No. Nobody punched me.”
Jacob watched me with heated eyes and his I'm-pretending-to-casually-lick-my-lips-but-you-know-I'm-doing-it-so-you-can-imagine-it-on-your-cunt-smile.
What a mouthful of a title.
Now I wanted to punch him.
“Anyway,” Kite said, swooping in to stop me from investigating further. Sitting on the arm of the couch beside me, he was my own personal watch dog. “I think Jacob is here because he has something to say.”