Chapter Seventeen
Evie
Kick arrived back at my house about two hours after he’d left. Maree and I had cleaned up most of the mess the intruders had made, and we were now in the kitchen discussing the break-ins that had been occurring in the neighbourhood lately. Kick entered the kitchen and the energy shifted immediately. He stopped and stared at me, a look of pure need in his eyes. But there was something else there, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on straight away.
Maree sensed it, too, and gave me a look that said ‘fuck, I am getting out of here so you can get laid’. She grabbed her bag and said, “I’ll call you tomorrow and make sure you’re okay.”
“Thanks for your help, babe,” I said as she left.
Kick didn’t take his eyes off me. As soon as the front door closed behind Maree, he came to me. His hand went straight to the button on my shorts and a moment later it was in my panties, searching for my slit. No words were exchanged; our eyes did all the talking. And Kick’s eyes were loud. And dark. If I didn’t know him as well as I did, I would be scared of his intentions.
His finger roughly entered me, and he hissed. Pushing in deep, he began fucking me with it. My eyes rolled shut, and he growled, “Keep your eyes open, Evie. I want to watch them as you come.”
I shuddered at the hardness in his voice and in his eyes. This was the Hard Kick, and I didn’t know him so well. I realised I had no idea where this would go tonight. So I did as he said. Kick was completely in charge of tonight.
While his fingers fucked me, his other hand came to my cheek, and he roughly grasped me, his thumb tracing my lips. Our eyes remained locked and our breathing matched in its shallowness.
Oh god, I was going to come.
I was going to come hard.
“Let it go, baby,” he commanded, knowing my body so well. Knowing I was so close. “But keep your eyes open.”
The rough authority in his voice did it in the end. I came, forcing my eyes to stay open the entire time. My whole body exploded with pleasure, and my legs threatened to give way under me. Kick’s arms came around me, and he lifted me and carried me into my bedroom.
A moment later I was on my feet and he’d quickly stripped me. I stood naked in front of him, his eyes hungrily running over my body. He’d already brought me to orgasm once, but I could feel it building again, simply from the intense hunger radiating from him.
I needed to touch him, but when I took a step in his direction, he barked, “No.” His eyes snapped back to mine, and he lifted his tee over his head, and then removed the rest of his clothes. His cock was rock hard, and my pussy screamed for it, but I did as he said and stood still, waiting for his next move.
Desire slid right through me when he reached for the handcuffs sitting on my bedside table. “I want you on your back on the bed, with your arms above your head,” he ordered, his voice hard, not containing one scrap of the gentle, fun Kick.
And I fucking loved the shiver it gave me, from the unpredictability of him.
I did as he said and waited.
He remained standing, his eyes on mine. I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed he was weighing something up in his mind. It seemed like he was at war with his need.
“Kick –” I began, but he cut me off.
“Don’t talk,” he bossed me, his breaths starting to come hard and fast. And then he muttered, “Fuck.” He shoved his hand through his hair, and turned around and walked out of the room.
What the hell?
I shifted so I could lean on my elbows and see where he went, but he’d moved out of my line of sight. Moving off the bed, I went in search of him, finding him in the lounge room, his back to me, his shoulders tense.
“What’s wrong, Kick?” I asked quietly, almost afraid of the answer. I’d always wanted to know this side of Kick, but his intensity was freaking me out a little.
He turned to me, his eyes flashing anger, and that scared me even more. I hadn’t done anything to earn that anger. When he finally spoke, his voice was strangled, broken almost. “I’m mad at you . . . and I don’t want to be mad at you . . .”
I frowned, unable to understand the words coming out of his mouth. “I don’t understand,” I almost whispered.
“Fuck! Neither do I,” he said, agitated.
I stayed silent.
Waiting for him to explain further.
Hoping this wasn’t the end of us.
His gaze roared with fury and violence.
And I didn’t understand.
My heart cracked a little more, the scars of our love aching. It seemed that’s all we were destined for. Scars and hurt. And an inability to make this work.
“I love you, Evie,” he started and then stopped abruptly, like he was searching for the right words. “But I fuckin’ hate the power you have over me.” His words bled with the conflict he was obviously experiencing. “Fuck, that didn’t come out right,” he muttered. His eyes pleaded with me to understand, begged me not to walk away from this, but rather to stay and fight.
And so that’s what I did.
I fought for Kick.
I moved to him, and placed my hand on his chest. He flinched, but I ignored it. Kick needed my love. He needed to know this would be okay, and that we would battle our way through any obstacles that came at us. My counsellor instincts kicked in. “What power do I have over you?”
He took a deep breath and I felt his heart beating fast in his chest. “You have the power to fuck my loyalties up.” His words were raw and honest, and I loved him even more for that. I loved that he gave me that because it meant we could go forward from a place of truth.
“Your loyalty to your club?”
“Yes.” His voice was forceful, demanding, as if he wanted me to fix it for him.
But I couldn’t fix this for him. I could only try to help him sort through the mess of emotions and thoughts rushing at him.
“Why does your love for me have to affect that, Kick? Why can’t you have loyalty to both of us?”
“Because if shit ever goes down, it could mean that one day I will have to make a choice. You or the club.”
Clarity hit me square in the chest. “That’s the real reason why you kept walking away from me, isn’t it?’ I asked quietly.
He stared at me for a long time, processing that. And then his face contorted in torment and he nodded. “I think so,” he whispered, “but I never realised that until just now.”
I asked the one question that had to be answered in order for us to take another step on this journey together. The answer to this question would determine our future. “Can you get past that anger at me?” I held my breath, waiting for him to reply.
Willing him to say the one word I desperately wanted him to say.
“I’m not angry at you, baby. I’m angry at myself.” His gaze softened, and my heart soared at his admission, but it confused me even further.
My eyebrows drew together. “Why?”
The air crackled with his ferocious love. It blazed for me to see and feel. “Because I love you, and I’ve always fuckin’ loved you. I might not like the power you have over me, but I’m fuckin’ angry with myself for even thinking I should put you second to the club. You’ve always come first, and you always will. I just couldn’t admit that to myself until today.”
We’d had many moments of honesty since we’d found each other again, but I felt this one deep in my heart. This really was a defining moment for us and I needed to find a way to show Kick that I got it, that I understood the depth of his feelings for me.
I moved my hand from his chest to his face, gently placing it on his cheek. Shifting closer to him, I kissed his lips. His arms circled me, pulling me even closer. My arms moved up and around his neck, and my fingers worked their way into his hair. Our kiss deepened, and we expressed our love in the best way we knew how. Our lips, tongues and bodies communicated on a deeper level than our words would ever be able to.
When I ended the kiss, I said, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Kick. I want you to love me, and hate me, and fight with me, and make up with me, and do it over and over. I want you forever.”
His arms tightened around me. “Thank fuck, ’cause you’re stuck with me. You’re mine now, baby, and I’m yours, and there’s nothing that will stop me from fighting for us.”
He spent the rest of the night blessing my body with his love, and I thanked the universe for giving him back to me.
By the time my eyes closed from sheer exhaustion hours later, I knew we’d finally come full circle. The promises we’d made each other as teenagers would be fulfilled.
We’d never give up on each other again.
* * *
The next morning, I rushed into the kitchen to grab breakfast before heading out to work. Kick had monopolised my time again this morning, causing me to be late again.
He watched me from the table where he drank his coffee, and gave me a cheeky grin. God, I loved that grin, but fuck, I couldn’t afford to be distracted by him again. “You okay, baby?” he asked, knowing full well I was stressing about running late.
I held my hand up at him. “Don’t talk to me,” I muttered as I rummaged through my bag looking for my phone. I ignored his snicker. When I couldn’t locate my phone, I looked up at him, and asked, “Have you seen my phone?”
He raised his brows. “Oh, am I allowed to talk to you now?”
I put my hand on my hip and glared at him. “Very funny, smartass.”
Chuckling, he stood and came to me. As he moved to pass me, he bent his face and whispered in my ear, “Look on your bedside table, sweetheart, I’m pretty sure that’s where you left it.” And then he kept moving to the sink to rinse his mug. And I was left with desire running through me.
Shit.
I ignored my body and its needs and hurried into the bedroom to grab my phone. He’d been right, and I shoved it in my bag and headed back to the kitchen to say goodbye. He was leaning against the kitchen counter waiting for me, arms and legs crossed, eyes full of heat. I gave him a quick kiss and tried to keep walking, but his hand shot out and grabbed me around the waist, and he pulled me back to him.
His mouth brushed my neck with a kiss, and he spoke into my ear. “Have a good day, sweetheart. I think we need to discuss our future a bit more tonight. And then I think we really need to play with my toys.”
Oh god.
I turned in his embrace. “When you say we need to discuss our future, you’re not thinking of breaking up with me, are you?” I teased, knowing full well he had no plans for that. Not after last night.
“No. I’m thinking of getting us matching rings,” he said in the kind of tone that told me he wasn’t just thinking this, he was already planning it.
“You have the best thoughts, baby,” I said with a smile, and he gave me one back.
And then he smacked me on the ass and said, “Okay, go. But be at my place by five. I’ve got plans for you.”
“Yes, sir,” I promised, loving the wild look his eyes got at my promise.
Ten minutes later, I was stuck in rush hour traffic. I should have felt stressed about it, but all I could bring myself to do was think of Kick. We sat bumper to bumper for what felt like ages, until, suddenly, there was a break in traffic and we all began moving at normal speed again.
Thank goodness.
I changed gears rapidly as I began to finally gain speed. My thoughts shifted from Kick to work and back to Kick again. I couldn’t concentrate on anything but him for longer than a couple of minutes. This was going to be a long day.
And then it happened.
I never saw the car coming.
And I sure as hell never saw the truck coming.
I heard the screeches of tyres before I saw any of it.
All I saw after that were flashes of metal.
And then I saw darkness.