Chapter Eight
It was times like these when Kat wished she was a part of the technologically obsessed world. She’d give anything to have her cell phone so she could call Irish and see if he was okay.
Ever since he’d left more than an hour earlier, she’d paced, rocked, and drove herself mad with worry. She didn’t even have Xander to try and reassure her, since he was still at work. At last she heard the faint whine of his bike grow louder. She would have run out to meet him in the shed, but Ally had been playing Guard the Castle on the porch all night. After what seemed like forever, he jogged up the steps and walked through the door. Kat froze in her pacing and did a quick scan to make sure no appendages were broken or missing.
“Thank God you’re all right,” she said. “I kept imagining the worst.”
“I’m fine.” He pulled off his gloves and riding jacket and set them on the back of the couch.
She winced at the sight of his split lower lip. Hopefully that was the worst they’d given him. “What happened? What did they say?”
“I gotta get out of these clothes and shower. We’ll talk after.”
Aiden strode across the room without another word. His terse demeanor stunned her, to say the least, but she told herself it might be normal for him. She didn’t know him that well, after all. “Do you want me to make you coffee or anything?”
He emerged from his bedroom holding a pair of boxer briefs and jersey shorts with a towel wrapped around his waist. “No. I’ll be out in a minute,” he said on his way into the bathroom, then closed the door behind him.
She heard the water in the shower go on as she started to pace. She could try to justify it, but the truth was that she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t be so cold to her for no reason. He’d never treated her with anything other than care and consideration from the day they met. Something was wrong.
Steeling herself before she lost her nerve, Kat strode across the room and opened the door wide. “Hey—”
The vinyl curtain ripped back to show a very soapy, very colorful, and—holy shit—very well-hung Irish braced for attack mode. “Jesus Christ, Kat, what do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, rising to his full height. “I almost jumped you, for fuck’s sake!”
He whipped the curtain back to its closed position and snapped her back to the present. For a second there, she’d been entertaining images of his slick body “jumping” hers. She needed to stay focused on the more important issue at hand. Like whether or not she needed a new identity and a crash course in speaking Spanish.
“You’re freaking me out, Irish. I can tell something’s wrong. You can’t expect me to wait until you’re through showering to—”
The water turned off as the curtain slid to the side, yet again derailing her thoughts. He ran his hands forward over his head, squeezing out excess water from his longer hair on top. Droplets of water randomly trailed down his body, highlighting the bright colors in his skin, winking over the silver bars in his nipples, and sliding between the valley of his abs.
Irish grabbed the towel off the bar and wrapped it around his waist again as he stepped out of the tub onto the shower mat. “To what, Kat?”
“Hmm?” What did he say? Snap out of it! “Oh, to hear what happened.”
Royal blue eyes considered her for several long moments. Professor Xavier’s telepathy powers would come in handy right about now. Then, not only would she know what had happened at her apartment, but she’d know the thoughts running rampant in his head at her ogling his assets.
“Look, coffee this late will keep me up,” he finally said, “but if you don’t mind grabbing me a juice, I’ll be right out.”
“Yeah, sure, of course. I’m sorry.”
She gave him a weak smile and left the bathroom. Something was definitely wrong. He was acting different. And not in a good way. It must be bad news, she thought as she took a bottle of juice out of the fridge and cracked open the lid. As she wracked her brain as to what the bad news could be, Kat tipped the plastic bottle to her lips, sipped…and spit it into the sink.
“Blech!” She held it up and shuddered just reading the label. “Cranberry.”
“Good for the kidneys,” he said, coming up behind her and relieving her of his juice.
“Cranberry juice is so…” She turned to face him, her sentence trailing off at the sight of him as he killed the whole bottle, his throat stretched, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. “…delicious.”
His black shorts rode so low on his hips as to almost have no point in being worn at all. It didn’t matter that she’d seen him naked twice no more than five minutes earlier. Somehow this was sexier, with the deep V-cut of his obliques disappearing beneath the elastic waistband, torturing her with thoughts of where those muscles would lead her fingers if she traced them to their ends.
Irish tossed the bottle in the garbage and leaned back on the counter. “If it’s so delicious, why’d you spit it out?”
“Hmm?” Oh my God, you’re like a broken idiotic record around him unless he’s fully clothed. Smooth, Kat, real smooth. “Oh, no, I meant disgusting. Too tart for my taste, I guess.” Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”
He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “We still talking about juice?”
She shook her head, the errant sections of hair that had fallen from her messy up-do over the harrowing evening swaying on her cheeks and neck. “The news.”
“Not at all,” he said. “They backed off. They’re gonna wait until Marx gets out and take it up with him.”
“Are you serious? You mean I’m free?”
“You won’t have to worry about them anymore.”
The perpetual fear she’d lived with for so many months finally melted away, leaving her feeling almost weightless. “Irish, that’s great news!” She paused in her celebration to study his solemn face. Her brows drew together with her uncertainty. “Irish? What’s wrong?”
“I asked you if there was anything I needed to know about the situation before I went there. You said I knew everything.”
“You did.”
“Really? So the fact that you and your ex worked for Sicoli, what, just slipped your mind? Still,” he said in a low voice, “I never figured you for a drug pusher.”
“A drug pusher? I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about! Lenny gambled with Sicoli’s money and lost it. That’s why they were after us.”
“But that was only part of the story, wasn’t it, Kat? The part you left out was that the twenty Gs he gambled and lost came from you selling Sicoli’s meth.”
She stared, jaw slack and eyes wide, dumbfounded by his accusation. As he pushed off the counter and crossed the room, she continued to plead her case. “This is insane. Those guys probably just said that stuff so you wouldn’t help me or something.”
Picking up his riding jacket, he reached into a pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. As he walked back toward her, she met him halfway at the kitchen table. “I’ve never worked for Sicoli, and I’ve never had anything to do with drugs.”
“Drop the act, Kat.”
He opened the paper and slapped it down on the table between them, his blue eyes cold. With reluctance, she lowered her gaze. The paper was a contract for employment with the Sicoli Syndicate and at the bottom, right below Lenny’s, was her signature.
“That dirty, rotten bastard,” she forced through a clenched jaw. “He must have forged my signature. If I ever see him again, I’m going to kill him.”
“Why would he forge your signature for something like that?”
“I know exactly why. It’s classic Lenny. After we weren’t a couple anymore, I always suspected he had worried I’d walk away from him one day, but he’d looked at us like we were the modern day Bonnie and Clyde or something. We were a team that worked well together, and he knew he could trust me. So by forging my signature, if things ever went bad, I’d be just as invested in solving the problem as him. Otherwise, I could leave and he’d be left to deal with his consequences all on his own.”
Irish didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t react. Kat didn’t know what that meant, and frankly, she no longer cared. Sure you don’t. “Never mind,” she said. “It doesn’t matter.” She turned and grabbed her clothes off the couch before heading to the bathroom. While changing out of the borrowed clothes and into her work skirt and T-shirt that she’d thankfully washed while he’d been gone, she reprimanded herself for thinking he could actually be different than any other man. They never saw her for what she was. Only for what they wanted to see.
She yanked open the door and almost walked right into him. “What are you doing, Kat?”
“I’m going back to my apartment and tomorrow I’m leaving this Podunk town just like I planned. I appreciate what you did, but I’m not going to stand here while you look at me like I’m a piece of trash. I get enough of that from everyone else.”
She sidestepped him, gathered her purse and shoes by the couch, and set her course. She’d rather take her chances with a pissed off alligator than spend another minute in that cabin.
…
Aiden deserved a thorough beating.
Before she could leave, he rushed to meet her at the door. “Kat, wait.”
She’d opened the door only a couple of inches when he caged her from behind and pushed the door closed with the flats of his hands. “Don’t go.”
She stood ramrod straight, tension evident in every muscle. Chunks of red-gold hair skimmed the pale skin of her neck, tempting him to nudge it aside and replace it with his lips. The faint smell of lilacs curled through his body, fueling his desire from the inside out.
“Why shouldn’t I?”
Because I want you in my bed. Beneath me. Wrapped around me so tightly I forget why I can’t have you. He was so fucked. It was dangerous for her to be with him, but it was even more dangerous for her to try and skip town until he could pay off the Wonder Twins. He hadn’t considered she’d still want to leave.
“I don’t want you to, for one. And it’s late,” he tried. “Stay the night; give your head time to clear.”
Her voice held the telltale tightness of attempting to hold in emotions. “Call me crazy, but I’d rather not stay in the company of someone who thinks so little of me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, kitten,” he said, turning her around to face him. Her normally rosy lips were now shades of rubies and swollen. Auburn lashes had gathered into wet spikes from the hurt she refused to let stream down her face. Even when flayed open with hurt, the beauty of her face was flawless. “Look, I’m no good with words, but I shouldn’t have said any of that stuff.”
She responded with only silence and stillness. Say something, asshole. Fix this.
“Kat, I think you’re a really good person who deserves a hell of a lot more than I think you’ve been given in life. And you’re strong. I think you’re pretty amazing, actually. I have from the first time I met you.”
“And I’m supposed to believe all that after you just got done calling me a drug dealer and a liar?”
He cursed under his breath. What the fuck was wrong with him? He let shit from his past block out all logic or even give her the chance to explain before condemning her. Framing her face with his hands, he gazed deep into her wounded eyes. “I’m sorry. I saw that contract and heard about the drugs and…” He released a heavy breath. “I wasn’t thinking clearly, and I flipped my shit. I should’ve asked instead of accusing you. I was an asshole.”
“Yes, you were.”
She locked her scrutiny on his chest as though she couldn’t bear to look him in the eye anymore. He ducked his head to put himself in her line of vision and whispered fiercely, “I won’t doubt you like that again, I swear. Forgive me?”
She chewed on her lower lip for the eternity of a few seconds, then nodded. Her pupils swallowed the light blue of her irises as she held onto his shoulders. She swallowed hard, drawing his eyes to the smooth expanse of her throat. Her pulse sped up as he traced a finger down her neck. She wasn’t as unaffected as he’d thought.
Relief flooded his system and bolstered his confidence. She didn’t hate him. Yet, anyway. All bets would be off if she ever found out who he really was and why he’d turned up in Alabaster. But he’d add that to his list of sins to worry about another time.
Aiden dropped his hands to her hips and stepped closer. “And will you stay tonight?” he asked softly.
“I’ll stay.”
One night. He could do that, couldn’t he? Then he could get this need for her out of his system and focus on winning the tournament to free her from any danger. His job would be done, his debt paid to Jax, and he could move on to continue his daily penance and meaningless existence.
But right now he wanted to feel alive again, if only for a night in the arms of the woman who’d had his balls on lockdown for months. She was the reason no one else even appealed to him anymore. He needed her, just this once. But he wouldn’t do it without an understanding between them.
“Kat, can I be honest with you?”
“Haven’t you been so far?”
Not answering that one was better than an outright lie, right? Aiden was aware of the fine line he was walking. There was little between them that was honest from his end. But at least in this one thing, he’d be telling her the truth. Now he just had to do it without sounding crude or disrespectful, which would be a challenge. He was no smooth-talking Romeo.
Meeting her expectant gaze, he took a deep breath and prepared himself for the possibility of getting slapped. “I wanna be with you tonight.”
“As in, with me with me?”
“Yeah,” he said, amusement lifting a corner of his mouth. “With you with you. It’s been a really long time since I wanted someone as much as I want you.”
“Really?” she asked breathlessly.
“You sound surprised.”
She offered a weak shrug and suddenly found interest in the floorboards. “You seem like you’d be more into exciting, exotic-looking women. Like one of those sexy, new-age pin-up girls with the flawless skin and beautiful tattoos.”
He almost laughed until he realized she was serious. She had no idea what she did to him. Grabbing one of her hands still resting on his shoulder, he slowly dragged it over his chest and down his stomach until it finally reached his stiff erection straining against the restrictive boxer briefs under his shorts.
Aiden groaned as he molded her hand over his cock. The feel of her gripping him nearly redefined the word “premature.” She drew in a quick breath and raised her eyes to his. Her cheeks filling with a pretty shade of pink did crazy things to his insides. The more her innocence showed through, the more he wanted her.
He couldn’t make sense of it. She was right. Typically he went for the larger-than-life women who treated every day like it was their own personal thrill ride. Kat was something else entirely. Worldly beyond her years, yet somehow more innocent than she should be.
“This is how into you I am, sweetheart. Believe me when I tell you I couldn’t fake this kind of interest,” he assured her.
“Guess I was right after all,” she said.
“About what?”
“Earlier in the garage. I believe my exact words were, ‘It’s so big I can barely close my fingers around it.’”
He let out a strangled chuckle. The woman he thought didn’t have a teasing bone in her body picked now of all times to prove him wrong. Then again, maybe she wasn’t trying to be funny because she effectively cut off his laughter when she gave his cock a light squeeze. A low growl emanated from deep in his chest. If he didn’t fuck her soon, he’d explode.
“I want you, Kat. Wicked bad. But I don’t have anything more to offer you than one night. That’s me being honest. So if you wanna give me the red light now, I’ll understand, but you gotta let me know while I still have use of some of my brain.”
“Green.”
He furrowed his brow in confusion. “What’s green?”
Her shy smile revealed so much. “I’m giving you the green light.”
Images of all the things he planned to do to her in the next several hours flashed behind his eyes. Anticipation like nothing he’d ever had made his balls draw up tight with a delicious pleasure/pain.
Dipping his head, he closed the space between his lips and hers—finally he’d kiss her, taste her—but at the last second she dropped her head back with a sigh and offered up her throat instead. He growled his complaint and intended on rectifying the missed opportunity when her sweet lilac scent drew him in like a bear to honey. Okay, he’d kiss her later. He wasn’t too hard to please. At the moment, he was just plain hard.
“I want you so bad right now I can’t fucking think straight,” he rasped under her jaw. Latching onto the sensitive place below her ear, he tasted inch after inch of her skin as fallen wisps of her hair tickled his face. Fingernails bit into his shoulders where she gripped him, the slight pain igniting sparks of pleasure that raced down his spine. He kissed lower to the hollow of her throat, then down between her collarbones, until further efforts were thwarted by the damned cotton of her shirt.
Grabbing the hem, he pulled it up and off her in seconds, only to be pulled up short by her bra. A part of him said he should take his time, explore her slowly. But as more blood flowed from his brain to his balls, that wasn’t the part he listened to. All he could think about was getting her naked and burying himself so deep inside her she’d feel him for days.
His fingers attacked the front closure. The plastic clasp snapped from his hurried motions, but he didn’t care. A broken bra meant she couldn’t put it back on, which was just fine with him. He yanked it from her arms and let it fall to the floor as he got his first glimpse.
Her skin was like cream accented with apricot flecks surrounding the pale pink nipples of her sweet breasts. Breasts he could spend all night teasing with the pads of his fingers and the tip of his tongue. But not right now. Now he needed to devour them. Devour her. There would be plenty of time to torture each other later.
Aiden attacked her like a starving man offered his favorite meal. His lips sucked, tongue flicked, teeth scraped. As he kissed his way back up her neck, his hands roamed…and that’s when he noticed it.
Something was wrong.
Drawing back, he studied Kat’s composure. Her head was turned to the side and her eyes were closed. Not like they’d drifted down in the heat of passion, but like she’d shut them on something she didn’t want to see. Even worse, her hands were down at her sides and clenched into fists.
Aiden cupped her face in his hands and gently brought her back to center. “Kat?” Her eyes opened, but they weren’t focused. She could’ve been looking right through him. His chest tightened. She was scaring the shit out of him. “Katherine!”
That seemed to get through to her. At least enough that she blinked and focused on him again, but her body was still tense enough to be in rigor. “Hey, there,” he said softly. “You with me now, kitten?”
She nodded, scanning the room nervously before meeting his eyes again. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He arched a brow. “I don’t know. I was kinda hoping you could tell me. Looked like you went somewhere else for a minute there.”
She was getting skittish. Like a trapped animal itching to escape. If he didn’t lighten things up, she’d probably bolt in the next thirty seconds. “Sorry,” he said, “it’s been so long I think I forgot how these things work. Was I supposed to take you to dinner before or after I ripped your bra off?”
His bad attempt at humor paid off in the way of a small grin. “You’re a moron.”
“Oh, there’s no doubt about that, sweetheart,” he quipped. Now that he knew she wasn’t about to take off on him, he dropped his clown act. “Seriously, though. What’d I do wrong? And don’t even try telling me nothing, ’cause I swear I’ll tan your hide for lying to me.”
She gasped. “You would not.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and arched a brow in challenge. “Try me.”
Headlights swung through the windows in the living room with the accompanying sound of a ’72 Nova. He muttered a curse under his breath. “Xan’s home.” He reached down to where her shirt and bra lay in a heap by the door and placed them in her hands. “Go on into my room. I have to talk to him for a few minutes, but then I’ll be in.”
“Maybe you should just take me back to my apartment.”
“Not a chance. I’ll take you back tomorrow if you want, but you’re staying here tonight.” He placed a kiss where her shoulder met her graceful neck, then farther up where her pulse beat a rapid tattoo. He tilted her chin up and skimmed his thumb over her bottom lip. “With me, remember?”
“Irish, I don’t—”
“Please, sweetheart. Go and wait for me.” Her features softened and, with a resigned sigh, she crossed to his room and shut the door behind her.
Kat MacGregor was becoming more mysterious by the minute. They say ignorance is bliss, but they also say knowledge is power. There was no way he could ignore the red flags now waving in his head. He had to talk to her. Had to find out what set her off like it did and how to make sure it never happened again.
But first he had to talk to Xan about getting him into that tournament, or demystifying Kat would be the least of his worries.