13
Yes…but...
“You should be in bed,” Nick said, yanking open the cupboard and grabbing a mug. “You need your rest.”
Killian’s gaze flicked up to Nick above the rim of his mug. The man looked stunning with his tousled hair and rumpled clothes. Nick grumbled something under his breath and pulled up the sleep pants slipping down his narrow hips. He was definitely not a morning person and the exhaustion of the last two days certainly hadn’t helped.
For the last forty-eight hours, Nick had become his self-appointed caregiver, hovering at his side, just to make sure he was comfortable and healthy. The paralytic had worn off after that first day, but Nick had insisted, claiming he still needed care and that the graze wound could still get infected.
Killian peered into the dark swirl in his mug, lost in the same thought that had invaded his mind during that time…it’s been a long time since anyone took care of me. And he had to admit, it made his heart beat faster.
He took another sip, hiding a barely there smile that hooked the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t just anyone caring for him that mattered, it was the man in his kitchen, fussing and grumbling about Killian being careless, who really spiked his interest. Even when Dex had tried to watch over him, Nick had shoved him out of the room with an almost possessive growl.
Killian closed his eyes as the hot liquid slid down his throat, the caffeine and his thoughts both fueling his body. He was so far gone it was pointless to resist.
They hadn’t had a chance to talk about the other day. Correction. They hadn’t had a chance to talk about the kiss. Dex had done plenty of talking, a nervous tic that had dominated every waking second of the last two days and prevented them from getting a word in edgewise. Dex worked on setting up a shared database for them, sorting and itemizing every member of the underworld he knew by name or reputation, listing each of their habits, key men, and more. To say Dex had been pissed he hadn’t known they were planning to meet Marcus was a gross understatement. Had he known, he could have alerted Killian of Marcus’s special fail-safe feature so that he would have been prepared.
Of course, Dex had taken it personally. A detail-oriented analyst to his core, he knew the forensic quirks of every member of South Florida’s underworld and remembered Marcus Maldonado’s practice of engraving his own hollow point bullets and filling the tip with a paralytic, then sealing it in with a layer of wax.
Twisted fucker.
Killian set his coffee on the counter and took the mug from Nick’s hand, filling it with coffee and adding in milk and sugar to the mix. “I’m fine.”
Nick shook his head and frowned. “You need to get back into bed. I’ll make you breakfast…and I’ll…”
Killian held Nick’s face in his hands, stopping the spill of words. “I promise I’m fine.” He stared into those pale green eyes, the worry in them hadn’t faded in the last two days.
Nick had guessed a substance named curare. Dex had then grilled Nick obsessively, wondering how he had come to that conclusion, grating on his last nerve until Nick’s facade had crumbled. “Because Petrov used the same thing on his hunting arrows!” Nick had yelled in frustration. That had been the one thing that had managed to shut Dex’s trap for the rest of the night until he left before sunup.
Petrov hunted betrayers in a game Nick once witnessed where tainted arrows offered slow torturous deaths from pulmonary asphyxia.
A death that would have ended Killian had Nick not been there to pump that damn bag for so long.
He leaned in and softly pressed his lips to Nick’s, lingering for more than a simple kiss, but controlling every urge in his body to take more. This wasn’t about claiming the man who stirred his blood, it was about gratitude and appreciation.
Hours of pumping that respiratory bag had kept him alive until his lungs had finally started to work again. Then Nick had stood by his side, supporting the weight of Killian’s body until he could steadily walk on his own. But it was more than just physical support, Nick’s resilience and steadiness had fueled Killian’s determination, pulling every muscle out of his paralyzed state with renewed strength, speeding his recovery.
Killian inched back from the kiss, sucking in his bottom lip, savoring the taste of the man who drugged his senses. He brushed his thumb back and forth along Nick’s cheek, staring into the pool of green swirling with concern and something else he didn’t know.
“I swear. I’m fine.”
Nick looked away, reaching up to touch Killian’s bandaged arm. “I should check on this. Make sure it’s healing right.”
“You checked it a few hours ago.”
Nick’s gaze snapped back to him in an instant. “And I’m going to check it again,” he huffed.
Killian took a deep, controlled breath, keeping his libido in check. He loved it when Nick got bossy and demanding. He curled his arm around Nick’s waist and pulled him close. “Yes, Doctor.”
“I’m sorry I snapped at you.” Nick pushed his nose into the crook of Killian’s neck, nestling into the embrace. “You scared me.”
“I thought you weren’t afraid of me.”
Nick pulled back enough to look at him and frowned. “You know what I mean.”
He did. But his poor attempt at teasing had obviously backfired. He sighed, wishing he had chosen a different path that would have made him more deserving of the things most people took for granted. “You can’t save me.”
Nick stared at him, the strength and fight sparking in his eyes. “I did save you.” He planted his hand on Killian’s chest and nudged him back. “And I do know what you meant. You’re stubborn as hell, but a good man. Whether you believe it or not.”
Killian scoffed. He had been conditioned to accept his fate and compartmentalize his moral conflict the best way he knew how. He wouldn’t dispute the morality of what he did, or defend his code, or why he chose the contracts he completed. Regardless of whatever rationalization he attempted, the end result was the same.
He was not a good man. But that didn’t stop him from trying to be one or stealing a chance he had at some form of happiness.
He reached out and pulled Nick back into an embrace, sighing when Nick didn’t protest. “Before I walked into the restaurant that first night, I had already decided I was going to find a way to leave the business.”
Nick placed his hand on Killian’s chest and rested his head on his shoulder. “But you still worked after that. The cut on your hand last month and…the other night.”
Killian closed his eyes, burying his nose in Nick’s hair. “Both were favors. Technically still contracts since I was paid, but more as a favor to a business associate. I haven’t taken a contract in almost a year.”
Nick sighed. “So you planned on stopping?”
“Yes. Death is inevitable in my line of work. I wanted a fighting chance.”
Nick’s body tensed in his arms.
Killian seriously needed to work on his twisted psyche, because his sense of humor was definitely not his best quality.
“But you haven’t retired yet.”
Fuck, I hate that damn word. “No.”
“Out of curiosity…why?”
The corner of Killian’s mouth twitched. “I was waiting for you to say yes.”
Nick straightened, his eyebrows knitting together. He glanced up at him, the fire sparking steadily in those green eyes. “Do you think I go around kissing people?”
Killian wanted to know where they stood but was reluctant all the same. Killian pulled out of the embrace and reached for his mug again before finishing off his coffee. “I thought you were leaving.”
“Why would I kiss you then leave?”
Hell if he knew why people did what they did most times. His focus was usually on killing people, not having a heart-to-heart with the corpse. Killian rinsed his mug in the sink, not accustomed to this type of conversation. But with Nick, honesty was always the best policy. He turned back around and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms and relaxing his stance. “The way you looked at me was different. And it was obvious you wanted to say something but didn’t. Then…it’s as if you shut down.” He fixed his stare on Nick, unable to get a read on the odd mix of emotions crossing his face.
“I was worried I’d jinx things and distract you from whatever you were going to do.”
“I was distracted because I didn’t know where we stood.”
Nick crossed his arms, tucking his hands into his sides as if holding himself. “Did I…did you get hurt because you were distracted?”
Killian instantly stepped forward and gripped Nick’s face with more force than he had intended. He refused to cause this strong, resilient man to become vulnerable. “No. You were not the reason I got hurt.” He searched Nick’s features, hoping his message had pierced his stubborn armor. “You’re the reason I’m still standing here.” He pressed a quick, hard kiss to Nick’s mouth before releasing him. He took a step back, needing to calm the surge of want coursing through his veins.
“I obviously suck at doing this whole…thing,” Killian said, waving his hand back and forth between them. “So I need you to say what’s on your mind. I don’t want to guess wrong.”
Nick stared at him, his chest heaving with each measured breath.
Killian might suck at reading all the emotions, but it was clear Nick had been just as affected by the quick kiss.
“Fine.”
He hated that word. It could mean just about anything. He wanted to hear his favorite damn word instead. Why the hell did Nick have an aversion to using the fucking word yes? Yes or no. Plain and simple, without room for misinterpretation.
“What does that mean?” Killian asked, trying to keep his frustration and libido in check.
“I’m all in. I’m scared shitless of how being with me is going to hurt you—”
“Hurt me?” Killian interrupted.
“Petrov’s not the kind of man to quit, so I’m trying not to think about how this is all going to end. But I want you.” Nick’s eyes swept Killian’s body. “All of you.”
Killian stepped forward, stopping when Nick raised his hand between them.
“But, you need to heal first.”
Well, isn’t that a swift kick to the balls.
Nick tightened his lips, holding back a smile.
Killian’s eyes narrowed. “I think you have a torture kink.”
Nick finally let the chuckle slip from his lips, the sound delivering a jolt of lust through Killian’s body. Nick stepped forward and reached up, cupping Killian’s face. “When I said I wanted all of you, I meant it. I don’t want you hiding who you are or what you’re thinking. To make sure we’re clear, that means I want to be with the full force of Killian Marks.”
For the first time, he didn’t inwardly cringe at the sound of his name.
“The good, the bad, the dark, and the light.” He pressed a tender kiss to Kilian’s lips. “I don’t want you holding anything back from me.”
“I won’t,” Killian whispered, barely a breath away from Nick’s lips.
“I know you won’t,” Nick said, releasing Killian’s face and patting his chest. “Because you’ll be all healed up before you’re inside me.”
Killian inhaled sharply, trying to control the desire igniting every inch of his body with the visual bombshell of Nick writhing under him with each thrust.
“So you like to bottom. Glad we cleared that up.” Killian hid a grimace when Nick raised a questioning eyebrow. He needed to work on his verbal tact a little more if they were going to see where this led.
“For you, yes.”
Damn I like that word.
“To clarify.” Nick pinned him with a glare. “I prefer to bottom if I trust who I’m with.”
Understood. Trust wasn’t something Killian easily offered to others and suspected Nick was the same. He wouldn’t take that for granted. But once he had Nick in his bed, there was no way he was letting him escape that easily.
Nick leaned his hip against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms. “Out of curiosity, would you bottom for me?”
He stared at Nick, letting his imagination roam free with every possible position his twisted, dark mind could conjure. He wouldn’t deny the possessive streak he’d seen in the last two days spiked his interest. “Never have. But I’m game for anything with you.” A slow smile curled his lips at the sight of Nick’s pupils dilating.
Killian took a step closer, barely an inch between them. “Won’t be long now. Remember, I’m a fast healer.” He couldn’t control the silly grin he knew was plastered on his face.
Nick’s mouth quirked into a smile. “I’m counting on it.” He reached up and brushed his fingers along Killian’s stubble. “That’s the biggest I’ve ever seen you smile.”
His heart thundered in his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time this much excitement thrummed through his body. The flutter of happiness, the heat of desire, and the brightness of unexpected hope all swirled into a maelstrom within.
“I imagine you’ll be fine in a few days,” Nick absently added, ghosting his hand over Killian’s bandaged arm.
Killian clasped Nick’s wrists, bracing his hands out at each side, pinning Nick to the kitchen counter. He leaned forward and licked a trail up the column of Nick’s neck before whispering in his ear. “That’ll give you just enough time to get some rest.” He thrust his unmistakable hard and ready body against Nick’s, punctuating his words before stepping back and releasing his wrists.
Nick swallowed heavily, his chest heaving with each shallow breath as he stared at Killian backing out of the kitchen.
He had learned the art of patience through the years and never imagined needing that skill outside of his work. But being blessed with a chance to have a man like Nick at his side—who truly knew him and accepted him…
Could he be patient? A million times yes. He would command every ounce of control and become the epitome for patience.
A few days was a bargain.
Besides, Nick needed that time more than he did to rest up. Especially if he was going to keep up with the full force of Killian Marks.