Faith
I wake up from a sleep fractured by sublime dreams and ominous nightmares to find Killian sprawled on top of me, elbows on either side of my shoulders and his hands cupping my breasts. I gladly abandon my anxiety to bask in the sight of the gorgeous, sexily disheveled man availing himself of my body.
“Having fun?”
Gorgeous blue eyes lift to mine, and their sparkle is the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in a while. He grins at me, and I change my mind. That smile is definitely the most beautiful thing.
“I tried to but I couldn’t resist. You looked so exquisite lying there all supple and mouthwatering.”
Of all the things to wake up to, this is far from the worst-case scenario. It’s been a long time since I’ve been worshipped like this. And I’m weak enough to want to bask in it for a little while. Before the danger and the crap and the secrets force us into an unavoidable reality. “How hard did you try?” I ask, tongue firmly in cheek.
His lascivious grin is second hottest only to the lazy swirling of his tongue over my nipples. He continues his ministrations for another minute before he climbs up my body to fuse his mouth to mine. We kiss for a couple of minutes before he pulls away.
“Good morning,” he drawls.
“Hi,” I reply.
Then he rocks his hips and hot steel rod against my thigh. “Get the picture now?”
My breathing truncates. “Which part of my body is that for?”
The hands still fondling my breasts pinch my nipples in a rolling action that’s mind-blowing. “Your choice. I’m putty in your hands.”
I laugh. “I had no idea putty came in titanium.”
His mouth returns to my breasts. The absorption on his face is a triple threat to my heart. “I’m still yours to do with as you please,” he mumbles without lifting his head.
Predictably, my racing heart trips over itself. I look around his bedroom, vaguely taking note of everything I missed last night. His MIT sweatshirt is draped over a recliner. An elaborate puzzle sphere I have no hope of ever solving sits on his nightstand next to the tray containing the collection of watches he never travels without.
And, of course, he has a laptop close at hand. Killian hasn’t stopped being the right amount of messy, nerdy, and sophisticated. More and more, I’m getting the picture that he hasn’t changed much at all.
But I have. So much. I went seeking retribution in Julia’s name. And ended up damaged beyond repair, with blood on my hands. It wasn’t easy walking away the first time. It won’t be easy this time either.
I refocus to find his eyes on me. He hasn’t stopped what he’s doing to my breasts, but his eyes are growing speculative, a part of his mind bypassing thoughts of sex to decipher what’s going on in mine.
I close my hands over his, and he pauses, his gaze inquiring. Without speaking, I shift back on my elbows until I’m halfway up the headboard. Fluffy pillows support my lower back, and I’m in a prime position to offer him what he wants. I slowly squeeze our hands, and my breasts, together.
“This was number two on your list, right?”
He freezes for a second. Then his eyes go from sparkling to gleaming with intent. All signs of mirth leave his face, but he continues to lick me in wider circles, making the globes of my breasts and the valley in between wetter.
I let go to grip the top of the headboard and let him have his way. After a minute, he rises and prowls slowly toward me to rest his knees on either side of my rib cage. With his long, disheveled hair falling around his face as he looks down at me, his sleek muscled body, and the huge cock bobbing excitedly over my breasts, he’s a wild and beautiful beast. I don’t get a chance to look to my fill. He leans down and glides his tongue over my upper lip, then my lower. When I open, he slides inside, curling his tongue around mine in a dirty kiss that leaves me breathless.
That’s when he pulls away and mutters against my mouth, “Cup them for me, baby.”
My hands drop to my breasts. I hold them together, the air snagged in my lungs as I watch him draw his hips back before sliding his hot, velvet-smooth cock between the snug globes. Like so many sexual acts, I had my reservations about this before I met Killian. I never figured how doing this would actually get me off. He opened my eyes in more ways than one.
I groan at the sexy sensation of his dick sliding against my skin. His broad head hits the soft underside of my throat, and I raise my gaze to gauge his reaction.
His mouth is open, thick puffs of air rushing out with every forward thrust. He’s barely started, and yet he’s already so into it his face is flushed and his thrusts have hit that familiar unrelenting rhythm that suggests it’ll take an earthquake to move him from his purpose.
“Fuck. You look incredible,” he rasps, his gaze shifting from my face to my breasts and back with almost feverish urgency. As if he can’t get enough of the visual stimuli.
I squeeze my breasts tighter, closing my flesh even firmer around him.
“God, yes!” He pumps harder, faster, his balls slapping against my abs. He looks so awesome, feels so good, I can’t look away.
He braces one hand against the headboard and drifts the other over my breasts, teasing the already sensitive nipples even further. A rush of wetness explodes between my thighs, and I squeeze them together to contain the sensation. My hips undulate in time with his, my pussy clenching and unclenching around the phantom cock I wish were inside me.
“How do you feel, baby?” he demands thickly.
“Hot. Aching.”
“You wanna come with me?”
My head bobs. “Hmm…yes.”
He holds two fingers against my mouth. I suck on them and wet them for him, and he returns them to my boobs. Without losing the tempo of his thrusts, he begins to squeeze and tease my nipples. Incredibly, sensations pile high, a hundred arrows of heat singeing me from brain to nipple to pussy.
Delicious shivers wrack my body as I crest the peak. “Killian…oh…”
He pinches my nipples to the point of pain. My tiny screams seem to be a trigger to my body to let go. My hips jerk off the bed as my orgasm blindsides me.
I hear a hiss and a curse. Then hot spurts drench my chest and neck. Above me, Killian’s groans go on forever, truncated by guttural praise for me.
Once again I’m a boneless mess, fully sated even though I haven’t been penetrated. When he lifts off me, I moan with the loss of his delicious weight, but my happy haze doesn’t wane too much. I watch him walk away, his toned and ripped body a feast for my eyes.
He returns with a warm, damp towel he uses to clean me up. When he’s done, he slides into bed and gathers me close. We drift back into sleep, then wake up, fuck again, and then take a shower.
We emerge to the smell of brewing coffee, and my stomach growls.
Killian grins at me as he pulls on a pair of jeans. “I’ll get Mitch to whip us up some breakfast.”
I nod. “And then what?” Now that I don’t have the Punishment Club to worry about, the thought of sitting around waiting for whatever evil is lurking to jump out and grab me pisses me off even more.
He strolls over to me and slides his fingers into my hair. Firm thumbs pitch my head up so our gazes connect. “Let’s see what Betty’s got, and we’ll come up with a plan. Sound good?”
“Yes.”
I look around for my top, but it’s nowhere in sight. Neither are my panties. I look over at Killian.
“What?” he asks.
“Where are my clothes?”
“I put them in the laundry in my dressing room.”
I frown. “Why?” I’ve never seen him pick up after himself, let alone after me. The times in between assignments, when we were at his Malibu mansion, Debbie, his housekeeper, slavishly looked after him. The other times, it fell to me, or whatever manpower our roles allowed, to cater to his messiness. When I had to do it, I didn’t mind. It was the tiny bit of my old life I couldn’t and didn’t want to shed.
He shrugs now. “It’s no big deal.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. He sighs, takes my hand, and tugs me out of bed. Together, we walk into his dressing room. Only it’s not just his things hanging up in the closet and stacked up on the shelves. A good selection of my clothes is neatly piled next to his.
His arms slide around me, and he lays his chin on my head. “Don’t hate me, but I just wanted to see your things next to mine, the way we used to have them.”
My breath shudders out of me. “Killian…”
“Don’t make a big deal out of it, baby. They’re just clothes,” he says in my ear.
I turn in his arms and look into his eyes. “They’re not just clothes. And you know it.” He’s playing dirty, sinking his claws into me.
He looks unrepentant. “They’re here now. And you’ll be sleeping in my bed now, so it makes sense. And it saves Mitch from getting his eyes ripped out if he accidentally catches sight of your gorgeous bare ass.”
He throws the joke out but his gaze is watchful. I can fight him and insist my clothes are returned to my room, or I can let it go. I’ve already spent the night in his bed. I intend to spend a few more while we grapple with whatever it is we’re dealing with. When the time comes for me to leave, I won’t be taking my clothes with me anyway. The only things I’ll need are the clothes on my back, and my box.
The thought of the box, and everything it entails for me, puts things into perspective. “Okay, you win this round,” I concede.
His eyes narrow warily. “What’s it going to cost me?”
I turn around and head for the stack of casual clothes. I select a dark gray sleeveless tunic dress that falls to mid-thigh and pull it on. “A drink on the roof tonight.”
“Deal.”
I open a drawer to look for my panties and find his designer-labeled boxers instead.
“Over here.” His hand on my waist guides me to a similar set of drawers two closets over. He pulls it open, plucks a pair of peach lace panties from among the pile of lingerie, and almost reluctantly hands them over. “I love taking them off you, but I won’t mind if you don’t wear them at all.”
“Let’s not get poor Mitch’s eyes into trouble with an accidental flashing, shall we?”
One corner of his mouth lifts. “Touché.”
I finish dressing and while I pull a brush through my hair, Killian tugs on a powder-blue T-shirt that does incredible things to his eyes. I can’t help myself; I ogle him through the mirror until he catches my eye.
“You keep looking at me like that, baby, and we’ll never make it out of the bedroom.”
The front door buzzer sounds, and that takes care of that. Killian looks almost regretful and a little irritated by the interruption. But we leave the room. Since Mitch is waiting at the door, Killian goes to let him in while I head to the kitchen.
They enter a minute later, and the bodyguard-slash-chef is holding a grocery bag that contains French bread, among other things I can’t see.
“Morning, ma’am.”
“Hey, Mitch.” I slide the second cup of coffee I poured to Killian. He accepts with a smile and a peculiar light in his eyes. I realize I’m sliding into old habits and mentally kick myself.
“What can I get you to eat?” Mitch asks as he ties the apron around his waist.
“Scrambled eggs is fine.”
“Or eggs Benedict with a waffle on the side with strawberries and cream on top?” Killian suggests.
I salivate as I glance from him to Mitch. The burly man, who should look out of place in the kitchen but weirdly doesn’t, nods. “It’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll have the same, thanks,” Killian says.
The older man nods again.
Killian takes my arm, and we leave the kitchen. I glance at him on the way to the living room. “Where did you find Mitch?”
“My very expensive, very temperamental rental car broke down on a remote road in the middle of the KwaZulu-Natal. He and Linc found me. Which was great because I wasn’t looking forward to sleeping in my car for the third night in a row. Aston Martins are great to drive, but they’re pretty crappy as hotel rooms.”
“You were on another assignment?”
“No, I was chasing a lead that turned out to be another dead end.”
In the living room, we head to the wide sofa I woke up on two days ago. He pushes me down at one end and sits next to me.
“What lead?”
He looks at me without speaking and sips his coffee. My breath catches a little. “Me?”
His gaze turns a little sad, a little disappointed at my surprise. “I told you, I never stopped looking. You once mentioned you wanted to visit South Africa. Nancy, Betty’s older sister, threw out a description that matched yours, so I went to look. You, or rather the woman who was supposed to be you, turned out to be a vineyard owner’s wife from just outside of Stellenbosch. They invited me to stay for a few days. I had nowhere else to be, so I took them up on their offer. It’s a beautiful part of the country. We should go back there sometime.”
This time it’s my heart that catches. I can’t make the promise, so I drink my coffee. Killian stays silent for another minute. “Anyway, I thought I’d take the scenic route back to Johannesburg. KwaZulu-Natal is beautiful too. Not so much the vast areas without cell phone reception.”
“What were Mitch and Linc doing there?”
“They didn’t feel like sharing that with me. And I didn’t ask. But I checked them out when I got back home. Turns out they were ex-military. We kept in touch. When I attended their wedding and found out they were both out of work, I offered them this gig.”
“They’re married?”
Mitch walks in then, and a small smile curves his lips. “Coming up on two years.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks, ma’am. The food’s ready.”
“Thank you. And please, call me…” I pause, and my gut clenches tight. The name I threw away a long time ago crowds the back of my throat. But I’m not worthy of it. I feel Killian’s sharp gaze on me. “Never mind.”
We head back to the kitchen and eat breakfast in near silence. I compliment Mitch’s cooking skills again, ignore the dark look Killian throws me, and get up to pour us some coffee. When we’re done and once Mitch leaves, we wander into the study.
The gadget Killian carries hasn’t beeped, so we don’t expect to find anything when we get there. With nothing to do and too much time on my hands, my mind probes forbidden territory again.
I shouldn’t ask. I know I shouldn’t. “Where else did you look for me?” I blurt.
Killian walks over to where I’m standing with my back against the glass wall. Behind and below me, mid-morning rushes past in New York City.
Up here, I experience the slow passage of time like dull thuds of my heartbeat. Killian’s hands circle my waist, his thumbs sliding back and forth in lazy curves beneath my breasts. “Costa Rica, Jaipur, Mexico, London. Twice in New Jersey. Twice in Ireland. And all over California.”
“Not Arkansas?”
Something passes over his face. A shadow. A secret. I recognize it because that shadow lives in me too.
“Your life there was over. I helped you sever the ties, remember?”
The breath I take is tinged with pain. “Julia’s grave. Is it…is she…?”
He kisses me softly on the temple. “The money we paid for it to be tended and freshly flowered has another twelve years to go. I kept an eye on it. She’s fine.”
Tears prickle my eyes, and I swallow hard. “Thank you.”
He lowers his head and presses his lips to mine. My arms creep around his neck. We kiss long and deep. Enough for some of the sadness to fade before he lifts his neck.
“I wish I’d met her.”
My heart turns over with love and sadness for what I lost. “She would’ve liked you. But she probably would’ve liked Betty a whole lot more.”
He tilts his head. “She was into computers.”
I nod, the memories of my sister, the way she was before evil touched her, rushing through my mind. “She was so smart, always taking things apart and putting them back together just to see how they worked. She talked my parents into buying her a laptop for her birthday…just before…” The pain builds back up again, but this time with the impotent rage that accompanies the thought of a precious life cut far too short.
Killian’s hands cradle my jaw. “I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to drag this up for you.”
I shake my head. “It’s…okay. The reminder is good.”
He frowns a little. “Is it?”
“It helps me deal with a few things.”
“What things?” he probes.
A different memory slides into focus. It’s not one I like dwelling on. Probably because while my head knows it was wrong, the fire of vengeance burning in my heart remains satisfied with what I did. “Sometimes, when I think about what we did—what I did at Paul and Raj’s party—”
He stiffens. “It wasn’t officially sanctioned, but it was necessary.”
I nod. “But when I think about it, I think of Julia. And I think that if only she’d told me. Or if I’d followed my instincts when I felt something was wrong, like I did with that man at the party, she would still be alive, you know?”
“Faith…”
“I killed a man, Killian. Someone who wasn’t even part of our official op. I shot him in the heart. And I never looked back.” It was my first, and it wasn’t premeditated, and I knew then that it would become one of the many nightmares that would never let go of me. But there was an acceptance in the moment I pulled the trigger that has scared me ever since.
Killian’s hold tightens, forcing warmth into me. “He was raping a child for his own sick pleasure. I know you enough to be certain that walking away would’ve fucked you up even more.”
“But wasn’t that what the training I underwent was all about? For me to remain rational in such circumstances? But I didn’t. I jeopardized everything.”
“No. You don’t know that for a fact.”
“You suspected our cover was blown or that they might be leading us into a trap. And I wouldn’t let you pull us out. What if that’s the reason Ted and Shane were eventually found and killed?”
His jaw turns granite-hard. “Stop it. The op may not have gone according to plan, but we shut the assholes down.”
“Temporarily. Paul Galveston is still alive. Which means the sex trafficking is still going on.”
“That’s not on you.”
His reassurance attempts to lessen my guilt. But inevitably, pain and despair rise again. I missed the one shot that could’ve ended this. And I have to live with it.