Brie
I bang my head along with the music while watching the group of older youth vigorously lose themselves in their creations. Sliding my hands into the pocket of my hoodie, I continue trailing around the courtyard providing encouraging nods and points to the projects. Splashes of paint continuously cover the concrete, the brick walls of the building, and the surprisingly green grass.
It’s January and cold as shit outside…How the hell is it surviving? I swear my toes would’ve fallen off if I wasn’t wearing the fuzzy socks Soph got me for Christmas. They’re bright and colorful. Totally look like something that came out of a Dr. Seuss book. Kellan can’t even look at them without gagging or complaining what a crime against fashion they are. It makes me love them even more. I think she knew that when she bought them.
“May I politely ask, what the hell is going on?”
Quickly, I spin around and allow my attention to fall on the man it feels like I haven’t seen in weeks.
After ten days of endless sex, shopping, sightseeing, and more sex on a tropical island, coming back to Doctenn felt like a prison sentence. The day we returned was the day Kellan disappeared to deal with signing documents and deliberations that came up while we were away. Apparently, Felicity refused to have them go ahead with what they had previously discussed without Kellan around to reassure her he hadn’t changed his mind on details. I wanted to scream at her of course he hadn’t. He’s had the same plans for years, but I politely smiled and expressed my understanding for her wanting his passion project to be perfect. Like an idiot I assumed once all of that was settled, things would return to a normal setting or at least one in which we had more than a meal together during the day. Almost hurts how wrong I was. While he’s been slaving away in an office Felicity rented out for them to meet with clients, store important paperwork, and have a secluded area to discuss business with one another, I’ve been having playdates with Amelia, which consists of board games and peanut butter, banana sandwiches as well as hanging at out MINOH here in Fayeweather. I’m getting to know the youth and the staff better than I imagined I would. On the complete QT, turns out art with me is the thing they look forward to doing the most all week.
Kellan shoves his hands in his heather gray suit pants pockets and lifts his eyebrows waiting for an explanation.
“It’s therapeutic art.”
He casually approaches, eyebrows darting down. “How is listening to Metallica therapeutic art?”
I fold my arms defensively across my chest. “Do you not trust I can do my job?”
“I’m just trying to understand your job.”
My mouth twitches, prepared to argue when I notice the growing grin. With slight hesitation, I ask, “Why are you smiling?”
He gives me a short shrug. “I like saying your job. Much like I enjoy saying my wife.”
His confession completely shifts my demeanor.
Ugh. Hate when he gets all too sweet for his own good. Pretty sure that’s how I got conned into going to the Opera with the DuPonts this weekend. He’s mastering the art of charming to a new level. It’s terrifying.
“It’s an exercise we did often when I was in college,” I begin my explanation as the song fades. “You play one type of music, loud, give them an odd mixture of materials, and then let them pour out whatever is pent up. More often than not whatever vibe your music displays is what will bubble to the surface. So in this case, I was hoping heavy metal would allow them to express some of the darker emotions that maybe they’re not comfortable speaking about. Disappointment. Disgust. Self-hatred.”
The two of us glance over my shoulder just in time to see Cliff, a thirteen year old boy and fairly new visitor, throw the stone in his bowl of blue paint. It splashes outward onto the paper underneath and he yanks the rock back up to repeat the process again with more force. A cycle of unhappy emotions cycles on his face yet after each throw into his personal paint bowls, he looks a little more at peace than he did seconds before.
I turn back to face Kellan with a proud expression. “There are no rules on how you use the materials except that you cannot hurt yourself or others.”
He lets the corner of his lip kick up. “And when you did it back at the university, were you throwing rocks and air trouping to Master of Puppets or did your professor pick something a little more mellow?”
“I’m actually impressed you know what song that was.”
“Why?”
“They’re a little dark in comparison to your typical Prom King tastes.”
He instantly glowers.
“You can look at me like that all you want, but I’ve heard you singing Taylor Swift more than once while you tie your ties in the morning.”
Hysterically adorable.
With a smirk, I question, “Did you just come here to check in on me? Make sure I hadn’t burned this baby to the ground?”
“Why would I worry about that? They know better than to let you into the kitchen.”
“Says the man who lit our penthouse kitchen on fire twice.”
“Just the pan!” The two of us exchange a laugh and he motions his head towards the building. “I actually need to talk to you in private.”
“Like really talk to me in private or are you saying that as an excuse to get me bent over the office desk?”
Kellan lets a smug expression taint his face. “That I’ve also done twice.”
I shake my head at the comment.
Please don’t smile. It only encourages him.
He gives me a more serious look. “Actually talk, love. At least at first.”
I ignore the end of his sentence. “Let me finish up here, and I’ll meet you in the office.”
He leans down and plants a soft kiss on my lips. There’s an immediate uproar of cheers and hollers from the teens, which ends the action all together. We chuckle together before I turn around to give the sternest look I can with a shit eating grin.
Don’t join in with them!
I allow them to continue to construct art pieces through an additional song after Kellan dismisses himself. Without being asked, they all pitch in to help clean up the mess we’ve created, put the materials back where they belong, and take art to the drying area in the back of the main sitting room. Once everything is cleaned and everyone has dispersed to other actives, I stroll to the other side of the building to the single room at the end of the hall. Helplessly, I smile at the art plastered on the walls along the path.
It was my idea to display them like this, but I had no idea they would wanna cover it like some sort of collage of our time together. I love how it started where the hall opens to the main sitting room and has migrated its way towards the office that only Kellan uses. While I know I have put up a few, I know Cliff has put up the majority of them between his turns playing soccer. He’s quieter than most but active. Aside from hanging the artwork and playing sports, I’ve seen him straighten the library section. Take out the trash when it wasn’t his turn. Sweep the leaves away for the smaller children to have a cleaner playground. It’s like he feels he has to prove his worth of being here. I’ve tried to talk to him, but he’s not big into that. At least not yet.
After passing a portrait of me done by one of the younger children, I begin to wonder if they’ve painted any of the other staff.
At the opposite end of this same hall is where the staffroom is located. It has desks, quiet areas for them to rest if necessary, and security monitors. While the facility is open twenty four hours, the employees rotate in shifts like they would at any other job. There are also lock down hours in which minors are not allowed to enter the building after midnight and are advised not to leave before breakfast. I only know that because Janet, a fifteen year old girl with a head full of dreadlocks, was griping about it earlier. Hm…I feel like I should really read the handbook Kellan gave me to get better acquainted with the details of the program, but…that’s not really the type of reading I feel like doing. If the boss ever brings it up, I’ll just sleep with him to make him forget. Bonus of boning the man in charge.
Entering the small office which houses a long wooden desk, a chair, a lap top, and a few built in wall shelves that are covered in binders, I’m not surprised to see him pacing the floor with his cell phone glued to his ear.
At least he doesn’t answer it in the middle of our conversations any more.
“That’s brilliant!” Kellan exclaims as I hop onto the edge of desk. He gives me a glare of disapproval and stops his body across from mine. “We will see you two for dinner.”
It’s my turn to bear the expression. When he ends the call, I cautiously ask, “See who?”
“Felicity.”
My face strains to not scowl.
I have seen her for more meals than I care to admit. In fact, since we’ve been home, the three of us have shared more of them than we have with his family. I never thought I’d miss the days where Kenneth was scolding us for dirty jokes and Soph was arguing about craving chocolate on everything. Now my meals primarily consist of watching Tomb Raider poke at spinach salads between sips of expensive wines with names I can’t pronounce without needing hooked on phonics and my husband almost unaware of my existence until I casually place my hand on his thigh. No…It’s not me marking my territory like some sort of wild animal that would prefer to scratch the eyes out of the animal sniffing around what’s theirs, rather than share a basket of bread with them. It’s just my gentle way of letting him know I am there for support if he needs it. You buy that, right? Well. He does. That’s what matters.
“Actually Felicity and a friend.”
“Of yours or hers?”
“Hers.”
Great. She’s multiplying.
I swing my blue Converse covered feet back and forth. “Is this a social dinner?”
“No, which brings me to what I needed to talk to you about.”
The shift in conversation doesn’t settle well. “I’m listening…”
“You still want to be the art teacher at Hannah’s Hope, correct? You haven’t changed your mind?”
“No.”
“Well, in order to officially be a teacher at an academic institute you will need your teaching certificate.”
My shoulders fall at the declaration.
It feels like a total ‘well no shit’ moment, but for some reason hearing it out loud makes me want to argue having a degree is enough. I know. I know. Even in the U.S. you need it. Oh shit! What if my degree doesn’t even count over here?!
“Your degree transfers fine, Love,” Kellan states. “You just need the certificate. I will not lie to you and pretend it is something that’s easy to acquire. There’s a test-”
I groan loudly. “Have I not taken enough of those in the past decade?”
He fights the urge to smirk and moves his body to be standing between my legs. “One more and it’ll get you through the next three years.”
“Only three?!”
“Education is of high value in this country. It is by law educators are required every three years to retest to help reassure their skills and mindsets are still in the correct conditions for those they are educating. In fact, they are lobbying now to change it from every three years to every eighteen months-”
“Fucking, really?!”
“But let’s not worry about that shall we. Let’s start with getting you certified…” His hands land on my legs and he offers me a warm smile. “Hannah’s Hope won’t open until January of next year giving you plenty of time to study and take the test more than once if necessary, which I doubt it will be. Felicity has a friend who is willing to help you study the right material, coach, and guide you through the entire process from getting registered to how to handle things once you’re certified. We will be meeting with the two of them tonight.”
Why is the lunch scene from Mean Girl’s already playing in my head?
I swallow my disdain. “Great.”
Kellan’s bright blue eyes bore into mine and he lets his eyebrows fall. “Love, it’s going to be fine. I promise.”
Easy for him to say. He’s not the one who didn’t know it was wear pink day.
“We’re even going to that restaurant you love that makes the lava cake with the white chocolate center.”
I drape my arms around his neck and drag him closer. “Oh…You do know your audience.”
“Of course I do.” He cockily chuckles before our mouths press together. Our lips part, and he lightly brushes his tongue against mine erasing the remaining irritation of having to spend another dinner with Felicity.
Of course I know she’s not a threat, but it doesn’t mean I have to want to be around her all the time. This is all just business. I know that. That’s all they talk about when we have dinner anyway. This is just business and in less than a year, she will go back to her throne on whore island and only be required to venture out to where we are in case of an emergency. Believe me. I am steadily counting down the days like a kid at Christmas…
I stroll into the downstairs office where I expect to find Soph reading a magazine.
It’s become her early evening ritual now that Kristopher has insisted they take small step back with the work load they bring home. He’s worried about the stress upsetting her or the baby. She, on the other hand, is convinced he’s just embarrassed at her theatric mood swings in public. I get the feeling it’s really a little of column A and quite a lot of column B.
Relieved she’s on the couch where I assumed because it means I don’t have to trek around the entire palace in heels to find her, I bluntly ask, “What do you think?”
She drops the magazine into her lap and offers me a smile. “That you make me look like Sea World should be expecting my call for a tank reservation any day now.”
“Stop it,” I instantly fuss. “Not only are you beautiful naturally, but you’ve made being pregnant look beautiful and graceful rather than the uncomfortable nightmare I’m beginning to think it is.”
“It’s bloody awful,” she quickly groans. “The cravings. The mood swings. The inability to regulate my own body temperature. The back aches. Can you believe I have like three more months of this bullshit?”
Just as I chuckle, Kristopher enters the room with a large bowl of popcorn and announces, “Truffle parmesan with the yogurt covered raisins already mixed in.”
Soph’s entire face lights up. “That sounds amazing…”
“I figured it might,” he replies, flopping down beside her. “I’m also having the sheets changed and a heating pad brought in. Hopefully it eases some of the pain and itching.”
“You’re itching?”
She grabs a handful of popcorn. “Apparently the baby is making me more sensitive to certain things, such as our sheets and general clothing. I’ve been spending a lot of time naked.”
Kristopher tries to hide his smirk.
Oh…He looks just like Kellan when he makes that face. Swear they could be twins most days.
“Speaking of clothing, what did my brother do wrong?”
My arms brace themselves against my chest. “What gives you the implication he did something wrong?”
He shoots me a sarcastic expression. “Women we love own two types of evening dresses. The one for our pleasure and the one for our punishment.” His eyes scan over me over once more before he adds, “And with all due respect to you and my lovely wife, the one you’re wearing is punishment at its finest.”
In a weird way he has a point. I have dresses I wear that I know Kellan loves and dresses I wear to remind him in public all the things he wants to do but can’t. Typically, I wear those when he forces me to go somewhere I would rather not go. Like tonight.
“So,” Kris doesn’t bother hiding his glee, “what did my idiot brother do this time? Leave the cap off the toothpaste? Forget an anniversary? Oh! Trick you into visiting the horses again?”
“I love horseback riding,” Soph exclaims with a mouthful.
They’re four legged death monsters…
“Nothing,” I coyly answer. “We’re just having dinner with Felicity-”
“Again?!” They croak in unison.
“And her friend.”
Soph grumbles, “God’s she’s like a Gremlin. Who spilled water on her and why aren’t we shedding massive amounts of sunlight on the witch so she melts away from our lives?”
A huge fit of laughter rumbles through me until I’m bent over at the waist, hands wrapped around my stomach, trying to catch my breath. She merely snickers while continuing to stuff copious amounts of treats into her mouth.
All of a sudden, Kellan’s voice calls out, “Brie!”
I try to gain my composure as his voice approaches.
“Brie, where are you? We’re going to be-” His voice drops along with his jaw the moment I turn to face him.
Perfect…
He lets his eyes caress the way my curves are clinging to the unusual, tight, black cocktail dress. The blue gaze I’ve come to crave cups my chest before carving to memory the small gap between the heart shaped cut of the neckline and the lace part of dress that covers my shoulders and arms yet leaves a duplicate opening on my back. His tongue appears to swell as does his cock by the way he tries to adjust himself.
Kristopher’s chuckle is faint but clearly marks the point he was trying to make earlier.
Sh. No need to tell him he was right. Trust me. It really is the last thing Kenningston men ever need to hear.
I tilt my head to the side, give my wavy brown hair a ruffle, and smirk. “Ready whenever you are…”
Kellan tries to prevent himself from groaning where his family can hear. After several attempts to clear his throat, he somehow manages to croak, “You look amazing.”
“Thank you.”
He drinks in my appearance once more and declares, “Dinner should be quicker than normal tonight.”
Like it’s music to my ears, I strut his direction. “You think?”
“Guarantee it,” the mumbled response isn’t as quiet as he thinks causing Soph and Kristopher to snicker. He flashes his brother the finger, but sweetly says to his sister in law, “Enjoy your night. Hopefully my niece or nephew allows you to finally get some rest.”
“That’d be lovely,” she practically pouts.
Kellan slides a hand around my waist and guides me the direction of the front door where security is waiting. The four of us load in the luxury SUV and start towards the restaurant. Unfortunately, Kellan abandons whatever sexual thoughts were at the forefront of his mind just minutes ago and returns to rambling on about something related to building adjustments.
You have no idea how irritating it is that he’s already dismissed the naughty notions he was thinking about earlier. We haven’t even been married a month and our sex life feels like it’s losing its spark. Maybe he’s not interested anymore? Maybe our honeymoon wore him out? Maybe our honeymoon was too much sex so now he has to ration himself back to reality? Yeah. I agree. All of that shit sounded stupid. You’re probably right. Starting Hannah’s Hope has probably just kept him more preoccupied than he realizes. What do you say we help remind him of what he’s missing with the long hours?
I lean forward over Vincent’s shoulder. “How long until we reach the restaurant?”
“ETA four minutes if we hit the next light, two if we do not, Mrs. Brie.”
“Thanks.”
Kage gives me a quick glance to which I wink.
Once he turns back around, I proceed with my plan. While Kellan’s voice drones on and his attention is plastered on his tablet, I slide my hands under my dress to my hips. I slightly lift myself off the seat, wiggle my lace thong down my legs, and crumble the delicate material into a small ball.
No, I don’t typically like underwear with my dresses, but these were a wedding gift. Er…Kinda. I was given a lingerie gift card to some French store and ordered these online. Figured I could tease my husband by verbally letting him know I had on a new pair, but this seems like a much better plan.
The fact he didn’t look up once annoys me to new levels. “Kellan.”
“Hm?” He hums, eyes still glued on what appear to be some sort of reports.
Instead of waiting for the reaction I want, I slide myself closer into him and tuck the underwear into his far pocket. “Can you hold these for me?”
Kellan nonchalantly nods. Almost instantly, a curious look coats his eyes, and his hand dips into the location I just put them in. He lowers his voice to a quieter level. “Are these….”
“They are.” The urge to groan returns causing me to victoriously smirk. I lean over and whisper in his ear. “Now I’m completely naked under this dress.”
“Bloody hell,” he grumbles and tips his lips to feather mine. “How do you expect me to concentrate during dinner?”
“I don’t.” My teeth nip at his bottom lip just as Kage opens his door for us to exit.
For the first time since we got into the SUV my husband falls silent.
Stunned silence is a total win in my book.
Kellan’s expression shifts into something that’s equal parts carnal and lustful. His tongue wets the area my teeth just toyed with as if he’s desperate to taste any part of me he can.
Kage clears his throat, which causes me to smirk. “We have to go inside.”
He darts his eyebrows down at my remark.
What! We do!
Unexpectedly, he turns over his shoulder to state, “Give us a private moment, please.”
He nods, lifts a hand to stop the valet from coming closer, shuts the door and says something to Vincent who appears displeased by the situation.
My mouth parts with the intention to object yet Kellan swiftly slips his tongue inside. With brute force it punishes mine. The combination of spins and pushes being delivered in such a persistent nature sends my mind spinning into a delicious delirium. My pussy aches with jealousy while my lungs beg for mercy. Abruptly, he yanks his lips away and I thoughtlessly gasp to replace the air he’s stolen.
Pride paints itself into a smug smile on his face.
Bastard…
His thumb gently caresses my swollen lips. “Game on, Love.”
I snake my tongue out to touch the tip of his finger. “Game on…”
After a shared moment of readjustment, the two of us slip out of the SUV, link hands and enter the upscale downtown restaurant.
When we dine with Felicity we rarely eat anywhere we won’t be ‘seen’. Like the old Kellan I first met, she’s a bit of social media slut. Blogs are constantly raving about her social life or so she informed us during our first dinner together. She reminds me of Kim Kardashian, except her rise to fame wasn’t because of a sex tape or selfie obsession. Her father owns one of the largest coffee companies in the entire world and she was head of many of his marketing campaigns, including one with a jingle I still sing to this day. She’s always making headlines and they’re rarely negative. The entire world thinks she’s perfect…Well most of it anyway.
Soph’s Gremlin comment causes me to chuckle to myself as Kellan pulls out my seat for me. “What’s so funny?”
Knowing better than to display any additional annoyance for his business partner, I shake my head casually. “Nothing important. Just a girl moment between Soph and I.”
He presents me with a soft smile and sits in the seat beside me at the round table.
I try to keep my tone even. “She’s late. That’s unlike her.”
Kellan shrugs his indifference. “Traffic was a bit smashed.”
“Jammed.”
“What?”
“Traffic gets jammed. People get smashed.”
“People jam. Cars smash.”
“Why do I feel like you should come with a translation app pinned to your lapel?”
His beautiful laugh fills the table and like always, I mindlessly grin.
Even after a year of listening to that, it is still by far one of my favorite things to hear.
“Kellan!” Felicity’s voice joins the table.
And that is my least favorite.
My eyes turn to where she’s approached in a black, skin tight, long sleeve dress with a diamond cut out missing in the middle of her chest.
How is that professional?! Since when is showing side boob a classy thing to do over dinner? No. That’s technically side boob! Even if it is in the center, that’s still the side of her lady lumps we are seeing.
My husband greets her promptly with a nod and she turns her welcomes to me. “Brie.”
The forced smile on my face is agony. “Felicity.”
“Love the dress,” she compliments, sliding into her chair the waiter has pulled out for her closest to Kellan. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you.” Swallowing the urge to ask why she left part of her dress in the car, as well as lie about her looking great, I ask, “New dress?”
“Yes. Thank you for noticing.”
Hard not to…
“Kellan actually helped me pick it out last week over a late lunch.”
I drift my eyes his direction and he immediately explains, “We were headed to our meal, and she stopped at the boutique to return to something. She saw it and asked my opinion. I simply gave it.”
His opinion or attention to a private fashion show?
Before I can repeat those words out loud, Kellan turns his attention back to her. “You came alone? Where is your friend?”
After dismissing the waiter to grab us a round of waters, she glances over her shoulder in search of the missing guest. It only takes a second before she states, “There he is.”
In unison Kellan and I question, “He?”
All of a sudden, a gorgeous blonde male with wet tipped hair and an undeniably beautiful smile hustles towards the table. “I’m late! I’m late! I know! I’m sorry,” he begins to profusely apologize. “The game ran late at the gym and I had to shower and-” The sentence cuts off prematurely as he sits in the seat beside me. “No. Excuses are not acceptable. I made a mistake. I will do better.” His blue eyes land on me. “My word.”
My mouth tries to move in response but my voice box betrays me.
Holy shit, are you seeing him? Did he just jump off the cover of Esquire and hop in his car to meet us for dinner? I mean, seriously. Look at him! He’s muscular, trim, and filling out that suit in a way that’s making my mouth water. What? Yeah…Married doesn’t mean blind. I can walk into an art exhibit and not touch the masterpieces…even when the masterpieces are right beside me literally expecting me to. Do you smell that? Is that his cologne or natural musk?
“This is one of my oldest friends,” Felicity announces proudly.
“Guy Angelo,” he introduces, his hand extending for mine.
The moment it’s there he places a kiss on the back of it.
An unmistakable grunt of disapproval escapes beside me.
Can’t even blame him. If 50 Shades of Blonde was kissing on his hand, I would probably lose my shit too. Then again…I was already in this reverse situation, wasn’t I?
“Brie Sanders,” I sweetly reply.
Kellan growls, “Kenningston.”
Not bothering to look at his face where I’m sure steam is coming from his ears, I quickly correct, “Kenningston. Sorry. Still getting used to introducing myself that way.”
Guy nods and flashes his bright, white smile again. “Understandable. Marriage requires many adjustments.”
He has no idea…
“And you are Kellan Kenningston.” Guy extends his hands towards my husband. “Prince of Doctenn. Duke of Rockbridge.”
“Husband of Brie,” he rudely inserts as they slowly shake.
“Yes. Your wedding was the headline of many national and international papers, tabloids, and blogs. The reception was here, but the few photos you shared with the world from the actual wedding were remarkable. You both looked stunning. Absolutely…stunning…”
Kellan tries to give a nod of gratitude but ends up forcing a gritted grin.
Not laughing…Can’t laugh…
“It’s a pleasure to meet both of you in person,” Guy continues, hand finally slipping away from Kellan’s, while the waiter places water glasses around the table. “And the fact we’ll be working together is fantastic. Bloody unbelievable, really.”
Practically being able feel the heat radiating off of Kellan causes me to stifle another desire to snicker.
How hilarious does his face look right now?
“I’ll have a martini,” Felicity informs, leaning back in her seat with a smirk. “Anyone else need a drink?”
“Whiskey on the rocks.”
Surprised by Kellan’s order, I turn to see the strain on his face not hidden at all.
The opportunity to question it and his order is robbed by Guy. “I’ll have a Chocolate Disaster.”
My head snaps back his direction. “A what?”
“Chocolate Disaster,” he repeats. Curiosity covers his expression. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had one before.”
I shake my head. “I don’t even know what that is.”
“It’s a dessert beverage. It’s probably the second best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.”
The comment causes Kellan to clear his throat.
“If you’re a fan of chocolate cake, you should try it. You won’t be disappointed.”
“She might be,” my husband grunts, hand landing on my thigh. “You don’t know her. You don’t know her tastes.”
Get the feeling this isn’t about chocolate drinks?
I give him a short stern glance.
“There’s nothing wrong with trying something new,” Guy counters.
“There is when there’s nothing wrong with what she already has,” Kellan bites back.
“Which is water,” I state in a playful tone hoping to bring Kellan back to what we’re actually discussing.
His face frowns as he realizes how defensive he’s being.
“I will try a Chocolate Disaster,” I say to the young waiter who looks very uncomfortable.
“We’ll wait to order,” Felicity decides. The moment he steps away from the corner of the restaurant we’re dining in, she precedes, “Guy and I have been friends basically since we were born. His father and my father were once business partners.”
With genuine interest, I ask, “What happened?”
“Her father went corporate crazy and my father wanted to explore other things like Italy where he met my mother,” he answers.
“Wait, so you’re half Italian, half Doctenn?”
“Yes.”
“But you have no Italianness to your accent.”
Guy chuckles, “No. I was raised in Doctenn hence the accent, but I like to believe I got the best of both worlds. A lover with the ability to fight when necessary.”
Kellan’s hand drops to my thigh and I roll my eyes. “So you’re a teacher?”
He quickly nods. “I am now, yes.”
“What did you do before?”
My curiosity causes Kellan’s hand to shift on my leg.
Oh I have to sit through hours of Reality T.V.’s back story, but can’t ask a few questions about my new tutor?
“Bit of everything really.” He shrugs. “I modeled for a bit while getting my art and English Lit degree. Traveled around exploring art in unexpected places. Was an Au Pair to the child of a major director in the states for about sixteen months. It was during that time I decided teaching was my calling. I returned home, got my certificate, and have been dabbling in the area since. I’ve taught summer school and substituted here and there. Most recently, I was tutoring the daughter of a Duke, trying to help her with her university application into a state school she’s anxious to get into.”
“Which one?”
“Which Duke or which university?”
“University.”
“Ashwin.”
“That’s where I graduated from!” I squeak too loudly.
He chortles, but Kellan gives my leg another squeeze.
“Sorry.” My hands fold together and I apologize. “I didn’t mean to get so loud. I just... I got really excited. It’s rare someone from here knows about schools from back home or anything from there really.”
Guy offers me a kind smile. “I know many things about the states. If you’re ever feeling homesick, perhaps talking to me might help.”
Thoughtlessly, I agree, “Maybe…”
The grip on my leg disappears all together.
I didn’t mean it the way he’s taking it…
“Shall we get onto business?” Felicity coos as the drinks are delivered. “The reason for this…union, if you will.”
“That’d be best,” Kellan states and swipes his glass from where it was just placed.
Felicity immediately takes lead on the conversation collecting our attention. After explaining why Guy’s the perfect candidate for an English teacher, she suggests the idea of allowing him to help sift through the other possible employees given his knowledge about education. She also suggests that I should work with him in the interview process to find personalities I feel would match best with the children since I have spent and am spending so much time with them. Throughout the meal she verbally gives a task list of things we can accomplish between tutoring sessions. Each point she makes is well received by Guy and almost impossible for Kellan to dispute considering how much he wanted me to contribute to Hannah’s Hope. By the end of dinner, I’m actually excited to not only get my certificate, but to be more involved in a project I was beginning to feel alienated from.
Let’s be honest. I don’t really give a shit about building codes, city ordinances, and beneficiaries to help build a new community standard that has apparently been lacking. It’s hard to fake interest in things you don’t know or understand even when you know you should. But this…becoming a teacher, helping decide on good fits for those I’m starting to care about, and actively helping make the inside of Hannah’s Hope as strong as it is on the outside, feels great.
In the SUV on the ride home, Kellan tugs at his tie, and gripes, “Why is it so bloody hot? Is that the heat?”
“It is,” Kage cautiously answers.
“Why the hell is it on?”
“It’s January,” my security detail replies. “It is a bit chilly out, Mr. Kellan.”
Not as cold as it was at the end of November and December I’m told. We skipped their six weeks of dreadful winter. It’s been off and on chilly since we returned, but nothing that requires a heavy coat. I probably should’ve worn something to protect me from the winter air, but we just walked straight from a warm palace to the SUV and straight from the warm SUV to a warm restaurant. Didn’t seem necessary.
“It’s blistering in here,” he continues to complain. “Is this an SUV or a sauna?”
“Are you okay?” I ask wiggling my feet from their heel hell.
“Fine,” Kellan snips.
“You sure? You had four rounds of whiskey and barely touched your steak.”
“It wasn’t cooked properly.” His eyes drift to me. “Surprised you even noticed.”
“Of course I did. Why would that possibly be surprising?”
“Maybe because your attention seemed so occupied by your shiny new tutor…”
“Shiny?”
“His face was oily enough to fry chips on.”
Wow…Not sure what to do with that petty retort.
“It was ridiculous the way you could barely focus on anything else!”
“I was focused on the conversation!”
“You were focused on his delightful tales and tidbits from his time in the states! My comments were practically irrelevant!”
“Really?” My eyes twitch a glare. “This from the man who I had to take my underwear off to get him to pay attention to more than his tablet?”
As if the information had completely slipped his mind, he tilts his head at me and his expression darkens in a delicious way. “You’re naked under there.”
“We established that before we got out of the SUV and your pissing contest began.”
He slides his body so it is pressed up against the side of mine. “It wasn’t a pissing contest.”
“Not one you were winning,” I tease.
Kellan’s hand snakes under the edge of my dress. The heat from his fingertips leaves a seared path as it inches upward. He banishes the accusation with one word. “Open.”
Slightly rearranging, I brace myself against the door, and remind him in a lowered voice, “We are not alone.”
“I don’t care.”
“Kellan-”
His hand reaches the heat between my thighs and gives it the smallest stroke. I gasp, but it’s instantly swallowed by his starving kiss. The taste of whiskey clashes with the chocolate lingering on my tongue, but sparks an animalistic response in him I haven’t felt since our honeymoon. My body begins to comply with his command without regards to my warning. I shift my dress upward to accommodate the spreading of my legs while Kellan’s tongue reprimands mine for verbally speaking praise of another. There’s no reluctance in his fingers lightly toying with my clit. The initial touch while soft is torture. My pussy cries out for more forcing my hips to rock upward in protest. Kellan groans into my mouth, blocks my body with his, and plunges a finger deep inside. I attempt to break our lips apart to catch a much needed breath, but his tongue becomes unrelenting as if so famished it’s unable to stop ravishing mine. He slips another finger inside and pumps harder. Stretches me wider. His tongue and hand work in a tenacious, tireless tandem that tempts me to come faster than I thought possible. I do everything in my power to hold onto the moment that has my entire body spiraling out of control. My hands latch onto the edge of his jacket. My chest heaves heavily from the screams burning to break free. My parted legs shake in surrender echoing the submission my pussy is trying to provide. Kellan’s efforts only intensify until I can’t hold my orgasm at bay any longer. My head yanks away and buries itself into the leather seat in hopes it contains my screams. I shudder and quiver as my mind spins shamelessly.
Still desperate to claim me in every aspect possible, he sinks his teeth into my turned, exposed neck, and slows the speed but doesn’t loosen the strength of his pushes.
Unsure of how much more I can handle, I whimper for mercy, “Kellan…”
His hot breath against my ear lobe surprises me. “You are my wife.”
The need for reassurance sewn to his sexual desire shifts the corners of my lips into a smirk. “Yes…”
Vincent clears his throat and announces, “Sir, we’ve uh…arrived at the palace.”
Kellan uses his face to nudge mine for our eyes to meet. After a long, intense stare, he keeps his attention on me and replies, “Then get out of the bloody vehicle, so we can finish what we started back here…”
I snicker and playfully attempt to push him away. With a relief filled smile, he winks and presses his mouth back to mine. The moment we hear doors shut, the two of us begin to yank at the clothing in our way, completely captured once more by our craving for one another.
Gotta admit. A little bit of jealousy can go a long way…It’s nice to know his ego gets bruised too. But I am his wife and nothing will change that, especially not some pretty boy ex model who is nothing more than a possible new friend to me at most. I’ll make sure to tell him that…eventually. Jealous Kellan is kinda sexy…