This can’t be happening.
I put the bottle of wine down that I have been drinking and decide no more. It might make me do something I don’t want to do with him, even if my body is screaming at me to do otherwise.
“I’ll stay, so you can sleep.” He sits on the couch next to me, giving me no space whatsoever. I hold my breath, the smell of him intoxicating me.
This really isn’t fair.
He isn’t fair.
“You should go. I don’t have the energy to have you in my space right now,” I whisper, not looking his way.
Keir’s hand comes up and touches my chin and his fingers stroke down until he gets to my shoulder. “I’ll leave, but first…” His lips touch my neck, and I exhale at the sensation, the feeling one that I resent but miss so much. If I wasn’t already on the couch, my body would mold into whatever shape he wants. His dark eyes lock onto mine, and in them they hold secrets, weapons that I just don’t want to look at right now. “Just a taste.” His fingers move my face until my lips touch his.
Just a taste, no more, I tell myself.
So why, when his other hand moves my body toward him, do I let him?
And why do I moan into his mouth when he pulls my lips apart and slides his tongue in?
It’s not fair.
I go to push him away but, somehow, my fingers glide over his muscles and my hands tangle behind his head and pull him even closer to me. He takes it as all the invitation he needs. His hands slide under me and lift me ever so slightly before he slips a pillow under my lower half and places me down on it, all while never breaking our kiss.
I’m going to put it down to the wine.
I’ve simply had too much wine.
Yet, I somehow feel more sober than I ever have been.
Shit! It’s really not the wine, is it?
His lips break free from mine but stay on my body as his hands work their way to my trousers before he slips his hand in and touches me where I need him the most. He kisses down my neck to my open shirt where he has no problem working the buttons with one hand until my breasts are free. His mouth hovers over them, then with a lick of his lips, he takes my nipple into his mouth and sucks, then bites, and I shiver beneath him.
A small part of me is telling me to stop this, that this cannot go on, but as he releases one nipple and goes to the next, I know my body will not let me say no to this man. I want him as badly as I want my next breath, which is coming out in gasps as he plays with every part of me.
How can he be so magical?
His fingers push in and out of me, and all the while, I grind on his hand, my hands in his hair as he kisses, bites, and licks my breast. I’ve never been much for breast play, but I can’t get enough of what he’s doing to them.
My shirt is pulled open farther, and I hear the buttons pop as it’s yanked. His hand leaves between my legs to pull my trousers all the way off. I wiggle and kick to help remove them, then I look up at him.
Bad mistake.
Big, bad mistake.
I’m laid back on the couch, shirt ruined, breathing heavily, trousers removed, while he is still fully clothed. I glance at the expensive watch on his wrist, then back to his eyes.
“Do you touch her like you touch me?” I ask, pulling the pillow out from under me and sitting up. When I’m seated, I come face-to-face with his hard cock behind his pants.
I know he wants me.
I know, I’m not blind.
But I’m also not stupid.
Despite what I just let happen.
“Lollipop.”
Oh, there it is. No more Sailor.
I sit up straighter, pulling my wrecked shirt over my breasts, and shake my head. Standing so I’m directly in front of him, I smile up at him. “It’s time you leave.”
Keir captures my wrist as I make for the door. And in a move so fast I barely have time to register it, his hand slides straight back between my legs where I am wet for him, and he pushes his finger in, then leans down to my ear. “Let me release you.” His fingers start to move, and for a moment I begin to fall into him, then I realize what he’s doing and open my eyes.
“Do you release her the same way?” I ask, venom clear as day in my voice.
Have you ever had a man’s fingers inside you, on the verge of making you come, while trying to get him to see reason?
My mind and heart want him to stop.
But my body does not.
Evil bitch.
She knows what he can give us, but my mind knows it’s wrong to want it.
So I reach down and pull his hand away. He doesn’t fight me, just lifts his hand to his mouth and starts sucking his fingers clean. And damn you, body, it makes me want to reach up and taste myself on his lips.
“I think it’s best you leave,” I say.
“You could be right.” He readjusts himself in his trousers, and I watch him like a needy whore. “I’ll be seeing you soon, lollipop.” He smirks before he turns and heads toward the door. He looks back as he opens it, his eyes taking me in. “You are my favorite flavor, you know that, right?”
“Just not your only one,” I bite back, then walk away, hoping and praying he leaves and doesn’t come after me. When I hear the door shut with a click, I step into Wren’s room. She’s sound asleep, so I make my way to my bedroom, grabbing my lucky rabbit and finishing the job I almost let him do.
Why do I fall for it? For him?
Why can I not stay away?
I did.
I did so well for a while.
But we all knew it was a matter of time before he came back for me.
Sometimes I think it’s because of Wren, but my soul knows better. I’ve never felt a connection with anyone like I do with Keir, and I hate that fact the most. That out of everyone, it’s him who I see when I close my eyes. It’s him who I see when I look into my daughter’s eyes.
But most of all, it’s him who makes my heart pitter-patter.
Fuck-knuckle that he is.
Chapter Eleven
Keir
“What do you plan to do?” Roberto asks as the door opens and Joey walks in. He eyes us as he goes straight for my liquor cabinet, pouring himself a drink before he joins us.
“About?” I ask Roberto.
“Paige. What do you plan to do about her?” he asks.
Francis looks on silently.
“What do you think I should do? She’s your cousin, after all,” I ask Francis.
“Do you believe what she says?” Roberto asks him.
I pin Francis with a look, waiting for him to answer. In our line of work, blood is thick, but loyalty is thicker, and Francis has never given me a reason to not trust him. In fact, he has chosen us over his own blood multiple times.
Loyalty comes first. My men will stay loyal to me, even more loyal than to their wives.
“She’s crazy, we all know that,” Francis states, and Joey nods in agreement. “But if she is having a boy, you know that changes things.”
I scrub my hand down my face.
“A boy?” Joey asks.
We haven’t filled him in. He looks around for confirmation, and Roberto tells him what’s happened. When he’s done, Joey shakes his head. “Can you believe what she says, though? Where is the proof it’s a boy?”
“Ultrasound tomorrow,” I tell him. “To confirm if she’s lying or telling the truth.”