Teagan
Sitting on the floor in the library, resting between Kane’s legs as he reclined back against the sofa, contentment settled over me. The scene earlier in my room had been intense, but it had also been cathartic, tearing down the last of the unseen barriers that held Kane and me back. The road wasn’t going to be smooth all of a sudden, but at least we were both all in.
Zeus was on the sofa, stretched to take up most of it, his head resting against Kane’s thigh.
“So about the inn, what are you going to do with all of the collectibles? Seems risky leaving them out with so many passing through.”
“Agreed. Part of the house will be the residence for Mrs. Marks and the others. All the antiques will go with them.”
“I like that idea, that they’ll still be here but as permanent guests themselves.” Turning around so my arms could rest on his thighs, I said. “I really only was surprised before because you hadn’t mentioned this idea since we were kids. But I’m guessing you and Mrs. Marks have spoken about it far more often.”
“Yeah, after the fire, when I was finally on my feet again, I needed to get involved, keep busy. Even blind, I could sense them all slowing down. They’re in their eighties, and this house is a lot to keep up. Mrs. Marks and I discussed it. I knew I was going to need help setting it up, but it seemed like the perfect solution. They don’t have to move, and the money we’d make could keep the place going.”
“It’s brilliant, and you have your house, so you can escape all the people when it gets to be too much.”
His head dropped a degree, his eyes on where my hands rested on his legs. Though he couldn’t see them, he did feel them. “Our house, Tea. I want the dream, but that doesn’t mean I’m not scared of what comes next—of limiting you because I am limited with what I can do. I don’t want you to come to resent me. I don’t know if I’ll have the courage to leave what is familiar to me. I don’t know if I’ll ever have the strength of will to chase the dream with you. I’ve been lost a few times, right here in town, and I can’t tell you how debilitating it is.”
My throat tightened on hearing the insecurity and doubt he felt, another scar left from the fire. “After I saw your burns, learned you were blind, I tried to walk from my bed to the door with my eyes closed and nearly face-planted. Then I went into the west wing and tried to find my way to the door. I was so scared, wanted to open my eyes, but I knew you would never be free of the darkness. I never even found the door. I burned myself too.”
“What? Where?” I reached for his hand and brushed his fingers over the healing wound. “Why would you do that?”
“I was trying to see what it had been like for you. I couldn’t stand the pain, and it’s just a small burn. The thought of you . . . the pain, the darkness.” Tears welled in my eyes. “You say you don’t know if you’ll have the strength of will, but you already do. To have come as far as you have, overcoming all that you have, you leave me in awe.”
He pulled me into his lap, cradled my cheek with his hand, and kissed me. He molded his lips to mine, tasting and savoring. His other hand lifted to frame my face, and he kissed me deeper, his tongue sliding into my mouth to stroke my own. Straddling him, I reached for his shirt. His mouth pulled from mine to object.
“Don’t,” was all I said before discarding his shirt. My fingertips moved along his scarred skin. “Can you feel that?”
“Not in the sense you mean, but because it’s you, yes.”
My lips replaced my fingers. He inhaled, his fingers on my thighs tightening. Moving up his neck, my tongue ran along his jaw, my hands roaming over him, feeling him with my fingers like he now did with me. Trailing down his stomach, lower to the bulge pressing against his jeans, I rubbed him through the denim, heard the groan that rumbled up his throat. Like in our youth, my breasts felt fuller and the ache started. I needed him. I couldn’t wait another second to feel him inside me. I didn’t care that we were in the library, didn’t care that the door wasn’t locked.
Unzipping him, I pulled him free.
“Tea.”
“Please,” was all I said. His fingers curled around my waist, sliding my pants down my legs, only the one leg sliding off completely. Pushing my panties aside, he pushed up as I sank down. My moan couldn’t be stopped as he filled me so completely. For a moment we didn’t move, savoring being connected. Lifting up, he was almost completely out before I sank back down again. We found our rhythm as we slowly brought each other to climax. With all the times we had made love, this was the most profound. Wrapping me in his arms, still inside me, we stayed like that for a long time.
As I sat in the kitchen with Mrs. T, Simon came strutting in with Mr. Clancy right behind him.
“Look who I found loitering outside,” said Mr. Clancy.
Jumping from my spot at the table, I threw myself into Simon’s arms. “Hey.”
“Hey, sugar. How’s Mrs. Marks?”
“She’s good, better.”
“I’m happy to hear that.” He hugged me hard, his lips brushing over my ear to whisper, “I brought back a chocolate cake from Sunshine.”
Jerking away, I beamed. “We have to share with Kane.”
“Oh yes.”
He looked past me to the others. “Hello, Mrs. T. So, let’s discuss the feast you’re preparing in my honor.”
We were at Kane’s—Simon on the chair, Kane and me on the sofa. Sunshine’s cake was on the table, though mostly gone. Kane had me pressed so closely to him while he laughed at whatever it was Simon was talking about. I had never seen him so relaxed, smiling without reservation.
“My parents want to throw us a party at the shop.”
This comment from Simon pulled my wandering mind back to the conversation. “Why?”
“To say ‘Congratulations, you’re a success,’ appeasing their ever-present guilt. Who knows?” Simon’s parents took an active role in their son’s life and, by extension, mine.
“Not necessary, but it’d be good for business,” I said.
“That was my thought too.”
“Will you come?” I asked Kane and knew his answer as his body tensed next to mine.
“Never mind,” I whispered, not wishing to bring up a subject I knew we didn’t see eye to eye on.
“I’m going to crash on the sofa, you okay with that, Kane?”
“Yeah.”
Standing so Kane could follow, I moved around the table and kissed Simon good night. “See you in the morning.”
“Sleep well.” His eyes were twinkling more than usual. Idiot.
Back in Kane’s room, I stared at the pictures on his table. Maybe it was wrong of me to want him to leave what was familiar to him, but I did.
“Tea?”
“Yes.”
“I can sleep in the other room.”
“Why?”
“You’re mad.”
“I’m not mad. I just . . . I hate that I can’t share so much with you about my life. I can’t tell you how many times in the past nine years I’ve thought ‘Kane would love this’—a restaurant, a walk along the water, the sight of the sailboats anchored there.”
His words were so softly spoken. “I can’t see those sailboats.”
“Not with your eyes, but like you told me, you can see with more than your eyes, you can see with your heart and I’m your heart, Kane. I could give that to you.”
The door closed, the lock flipped, and then he was across the room. His hands framed my face, and his fingers threaded through my hair a second before his mouth sealed over mine. As soon as our lips touched, an electric jolt burned through me, starting where our lips were locked and traveling over every nerve from the very tip of my head to my toes. Shock and the most intense feeling of want kept me from reacting. His mouth was soft yet demanding, his taste was intoxicating, and his tongue insistent, running along my lips, tasting me with each pass. This was a different Kane, a more primal, wild Kane, and I loved that he was allowing himself to let go, that he was comfortable enough with me to let go. So consumed by him, I hadn’t realized I wasn’t kissing him back.
His voice sounded raw when he demanded against my lips, “Kiss me back.”
At those words, I snapped out of my sensory overload. Reaching around him to hold him close, my mouth opened, my tongue touching his. It wasn’t frantic, our kiss, even though that was how I was feeling, the overwhelming need to touch and taste every inch of him; it was more a leisurely exploration.
His fingers tightened on my scalp, then one of his hands moved to the back of my neck, applying pressure at the nape, which sent chills shooting down my spine. Forgetting everything except the man in my arms, I molded myself against his hard body as my hands moved under his shirt to touch him, the warm skin hard with muscle. In response, he trailed his hand down my back, along my spine, then over my ass to pull me hard against him.
His kiss was drugging, pulling me under into sweet oblivion. The moan that escaped my lips was a plea begging for more. He responded, taking the kiss deeper, sweeping my mouth with his tongue. Pressing me to him, he ground his hips against me while his mouth feasted on mine.
So consumed by what he was doing with his hands and mouth, I didn’t realize he had backed me up to the bed until I felt it hit the back of my legs. His fingers were working my nightgown strap, and with a good tug, my dress pooled at my feet. Without missing a beat, he cupped my breasts, his thumbs running over the nipples that were so hard they hurt. Pulling his mouth from mine, he looked hungry. Running his tongue over my nipple, his pulled it between his teeth, applying enough pressure to make the ache between my legs throb, before sucking me deep into his mouth. My knees went weak. Grabbing his arms to keep myself up, he moved to the neglected breast, turning me boneless with just his mouth.
“Touch me,” he commanded softly. Lifting his shirt over his head, I licked each one of the muscles of his six-pack, moving my mouth up and over him, kissing every inch of him. I felt his muscles quicken when I reached his scars, but he didn’t pull away. Working the snap of his jeans, I moved them down his legs, my hands sliding down his thigh muscles.
“Touch me.” Again the command, but since I wanted to touch him, I did. Palming him through his boxer briefs, I rubbed his hard length. Wanting to feel him, I pulled his briefs down and loved seeing him so hard with his need for me. Wrapping my hand around him, hard as steel and soft as velvet, I watched his face as I worked him.
Long fingers danced down my stomach and between my legs, I widened my stance so he had better access to the aching nub. His thumb moved over that pleasure point as his fingers slid lower and pushed into me. My hips moved, pushing him deeper, as my hand moved up that hard shaft, squeezing the tip before sliding back down. My stomach muscles tightened as his fingers brought me to the edge of orgasm. Swelling in my hand, his hips rocked along with mine and I wanted to feel him come, wanted to see his face, but he moved.
Tossing me onto the bed, he pounced so all that magnificent, muscled maleness surrounded me. Lifting my hips, he rubbed himself over my wet heat, focusing the tip on my aching nub. He pushed into me, only the tip, before pulling out. My body was clenching, desperate for him, and yet he continued to play, driving me crazy with his teasing.
His expression turned darker, his need overpowering his teasing. Lifting my hips, he slammed into me hard. So hard it hurt a bit, but the pain coupled with the pleasure had me spiraling into the most intense oxygen-depriving orgasm of my life. His thrusts were relentless, hard, fast, and deep, prolonging the pleasure just as he came, his body tensing and his muscles flexing. The low growl from deep in his throat was the sexiest sound I’d ever heard.
I awoke in the middle of the night to the feel of Kane tasting me on the inside, his head between my legs, and his tongue buried deep inside of me, his hands on my ass, lifting me up so he could more fully feast. Shamelessly, I grabbed his head and moved my hips against his mouth. He stroked me to yet another orgasm and then lapped at me like a cat at a bowl of milk. When he climbed from the bed, I rested up on my elbows.
“Where are you going?”
Standing just to the right of me, he was a picture—every inch of him naked and so fucking beautiful, including his scars. My eyes drifted lower; he was aroused, big, hard, and thick. As I stared, his hand wrapped around his erection, his legs spread a bit, and he started stroking himself.
“Kane?”
“For years, all I had was this, my hand and my memories. Can’t go back to that, can’t spend the rest of my life away from you, your body, your heart, or your soul.”
My heart was aching right along with my body. Moving to sit on the edge of the bed, I reached for him and pulled him closer. Pushing aside his hand, I touched him, a gentle touch, tracing the veins, running over the tip, then down to the base. The muscles of his abs flexed when my tongue touched the tip of him, then ran under the shaft and back up again. Gripping his hips, I moved to the edge of the bed and took him into my mouth.
His hips jerked, his eyes closed, and his hands moved to my hair, his fingertips applying pressure while I pleasured him. Stroking the length of him with my tongue, his hips started to move as he thrust into my mouth.
“Tea,” he growled and moved so fast, pulling from me, then lifting me as he fell onto his back, gripping my hips and yanking me down onto his mouth. Surprised at the intensity of his loving, the wildness of his need, I lost myself to the sensation burning through me. Arching my back, I rode his face for a minute as his tongue drove into me. Bending forward, I took him into my mouth again as my hands squeezed the sac between his legs. My hips were pumping, his were rocking, and just when his saltiness filled my mouth, I came again.
We laid cuddled into the other, my head resting on his shoulder. My body had never been so sated, my heart never so full.
“I’ll come with you to Boston.”
Shifting myself so I was partially sitting up, I studied Kane’s face. “Are you serious?” I was almost afraid to ask.
“Yeah, its time I broke with the familiar.”
No words would come, so instead I kissed him with everything I was unable to say.
In the morning, I took a shower while Kane was still asleep. I was guessing he was really tired after our night of lovin’, and then the door of the shower opened.
“You didn’t wake me.” He pressed me against the tile wall, my breasts flat against that cold hard surface, his mouth on my neck, and his erection between my legs. Tilting my ass back, he teased me by slipping just the tip in. He played like this for a while before his hand reached for the dispenser of soap. Lathering, he proceeded to wash my body, taking a good long time between my legs: the sting of the soap coupled with his fingers pushing into me felt so good. Before I wanted him to, he stopped and turned me to him. His hands palming my breasts, squeezing and teasing.
Returning the favor, I reached for the soap and lathered him up, sliding my hands down his body, over his chest and abs, to the hard length of him. Up and down I worked him, squeezing and pumping, until I felt his shaft getting harder and thicker. Watching his face as he came, feeling his hot seed spilling out over my hand, was brilliant. His hand joined mine, our fingers linking, as his orgasm moved through him. And then he was moving my hand with his down my body to between my legs.
“Touch yourself here,” he ordered just as he dropped to his knees, spread me, and pushed his tongue deep. Brilliant, fucking brilliant.
Kane
Tea went back to sleep after our shower. I had worn her out, and I felt damn smug about that. Our lovemaking had been more raw. I liked that too. Finding my jeans, I pulled them on. Zeus at my side, I headed for the kitchen. Simon was there. I heard him moving around.
“Just put on the coffee. I’ll make some scrambled eggs, if that’s okay,” he said by way of greeting.
“Yeah.”
“Can Zeus have some?”
Zeus barked. He never barked unless it was about him and food. I chuckled, “Yeah.”
“Is Teagan still sleeping?”
I could tell by Simon’s tone that he knew how we’d spent most of the night and morning. We hadn’t been particularly quiet.
“Yeah.” Resting up against the wall, I listened as Simon worked in the kitchen like a man who knew his way around one. I had been hoping to get Simon alone. I had wanted to talk with him ever since he had come to see me that day. As much as I didn’t want to hear the details, I needed to. I needed to know just what I had put Tea through. “What was it like for Tea, after . . .”
I heard the skillet pulling from the heat and knew that Simon had turned to face me. “Honestly? Terrifying. She was lost. She’d given up. She wouldn’t get out of bed for weeks, wouldn’t engage, almost flunked out. Looking into her eyes—forgive the expression—you’d see nothing, no sparkle, no humor, no Teagan. Emptiness and, just beneath that, pain. I really believed that she wasn’t going to pull through it.”
“She did, though,” I said.
“Yes, after I pushed her to get professional help. She learned to move on, learned to cope, but she never got over it. There was always a part of her held back from people. She never stopped mourning you, the life you two were supposed to have. She never missed a sunrise. I’d catch her staring at it like it was the first time she was seeing one. I asked her once what was so fascinating about seeing the sun coming up that she never missed one. She said it wasn’t the sun, but the memories that drew her to the window every morning. I never understood what was so damn special about the two of you that it deserved such loyalty, especially after learning that you had moved on and married another. But being here, and seeing the two of you, I get it now. And Teagan . . . that spark’s back.”
My chest ached. It was worse than I’d imagined, and I’d imagined it was really bad. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“I know. I hated you, wanted to pound the shit out of you for hurting her so callously, but knowing now why you did it, I think you were right.”
My head snapped up at that. “Really?”
“I think if she had been there, if she had seen you right after the fire and the months and years after, where you struggled just to live, it would have changed her. She would have been there, no question, but seeing the one she loved going through something so horrific would have altered her. And with everything that came after, it wouldn’t just be you dealing with the feelings of helplessness, but her too. Can you imagine how she’d be now? She’d smother you and you’d grow resentful. It sucks not having the one you need most with you, but in the end, I think you made the right call. Despite all the pain it caused on both sides.”
Hearing my own rationale being validated eased some of my guilt. “Have you said this to Tea?”
“She isn’t ready to hear it, but she’s a smart cookie. Of course, I’m a single gay man who has had only one meaningful relationship, so I may not have a clue what the fuck I’m talking about.”
“You agree with me, so I think you’re a very wise man,” I managed to get out without laughing.
“Let me get these eggs on. I’m not liking the way Zeus is eyeing my leg.”
“Thanks, Simon.”
His voice sounded a little funny—“Yeah, no problem.”