Her head turns slowly. “Kavan?”
“Kavan,” my mother repeats my name but the warmth that was once there is long gone. “What are you doing here?”
I don’t acknowledge her. I head straight for Juliet.
“Kavan,” she says my name again, but nothing follows that.
I reach for her. Grabbing hold of her hand I tug her toward me. “You’re coming with me.”
She doesn’t fight me. Not a word leaves her pink hued lips.
She looks up at my with those hazel eyes that are rimmed in dark shadow, liner, and a thick coat of mascara.
“Where?” she whispers.
I don’t answer. I can’t. I tug on her hand and lead her into the alley, not once looking back.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Kavan
“Leave!” My voice booms through the penthouse. “Everyone out.”
Nara hurries out of the kitchen and rushes toward the elevator without a glance in our direction.
Alcott rounds a corner and does the same.
I stand in place, watching them board the elevator until the doors slide shut.
That’s when I finally release Juliet’s hand.
I can’t look at her.
She was standing on the sidewalk, wide-eyed and broad-smiled while talking to my mother.
I stalk across the room to the bar cart. With steady hands I pour myself two fingers of Macallan 15. I down it in one gulp. Then I pour another splash of it into the tumbler and take that in a single swallow.
“Kavan,” Juliet whispers.
“Quiet,” I growl.
“It’s not what you think,” she says, her voice louder.
That can only mean one thing. She’s on the approach from behind me.
I stare out at the lights of the city through one of the windows. “Not now, Juliet.”
“Now,” she insists. “I reached out to her because…”
I turn on my heel. “Because you wanted her to fill your head with her version of events?”
She sets her purse on the couch. “No. I’m writing an article on Bane Enterprises. She’s a major stockholder. I was simply gaining her perspective on where the business stands today.”
“You reached out to her,” I point an accusatory finger at her, willing her to stay in place.
She stops mid-step. “I had to.”
A bitter laugh laced with the pain of the past five years escapes me. “Bullshit.”
Her gaze travels over my face. “It’s my job, Kavan.”
“Your job?” I repeat. “Your job is to go behind my back to speak to someone who has done nothing but drag me through the press for something…”
I stop myself, because goddammit, some people will swear that the truth will set you free, but it won’t do that for me.
It will release me from one type of prison straight into another.
Shame is something a man can learn to live with.
Guilt is far worse a sentence in my opinion.
“Something…” Naturally she pushes for more.
“You should have run it by me first, Juliet.”
“I was doing my job,” she insists with a stamp of her heel on the floor.
I turn back to the bar cart and pour another finger of whiskey. I swallow it, letting it burn a slow path down my throat.
“Look at me, Kavan.”
I look up at the window to find her there. It’s her reflection, but in this moment, with my sins so close to the surface, it’s all I can handle.
“Do you want to know what I think?”
“No,” I answer curtly. “I want to know what you were thinking when you called her and asked her to meet you.”
“I think you’re in a pain so debilitating that you can’t find a path out of it.”
“You’re not a shrink, Juliet.”
“I’m a journalist,” she says with pride lacing the words. “My job is to get to the heart of the story and report it. I was doing that tonight.”
I turn to face her. “The heart of the story? You’re writing a fluff piece on my company, Juliet. You’re not going to win a Pulitzer for it.”
Her left eyebrow inches up just a touch. “You’re an asshole. I’m leaving.”
Panic races through me as she reaches to pick up her purse. “Juliet.”
The only sound echoing through the penthouse is the click of her heels as she heads toward the elevator.
I sprint around her to block her path.
“Move.” She pushes a hand on my chest. “Get the hell out of my way.”
I hold her hand on my chest, over my heart. “Stop.”
“Stop what?” she snaps. “Stop doing my job? Stop trying to help you? Stop caring about you?”
That’s all it takes for the dam within me to burst.
I yank her closer, pull on the back of her hair to line her mouth up with mine and I crash my lips into hers.
We stumble to my bedroom with me tugging on her waist while she holds tightly to my face, kissing me with wild abandon.
I’m a man hungry for something I’ve never tasted before.
I’ve never kissed a woman with this much desire fueling it.
All of the control I possess has slipped away under her touch. I can’t think. I can only feel and my need for her is trumping everything else.
I push her backward.
She falls onto my bed. Her gaze travels over my face, and beyond to the darkened shadows of the place I retreat to at the end of the day.
“Kavan,” she whispers my name.
I’m on my knees because I can’t control what I’m feeling. I haul her dress up to her waist to reveal a pair of black silk panties.
“You’re soaking wet,” I grit those words out as I settle between her legs. “So fucking wet for me.”
She lets out a sound that fills the silence in the room.
I dive down, my tongue trailing over the silk for my first taste, but it’s torturous. There’s a hint of her sweetness, but it’s not enough.
I curve a finger on each side of her panties and pull them down.
I tug harder, sliding them over her toned legs until she’s bare.
“I...Kavan…please.”
She doesn’t need to plea.
I do. I need to plea for mercy. Plea for the honor of pleasing this woman.
I push her thighs apart with my hands to reveal her core.
With the soft glow trailing in from the lights of the city, she’s a vision. “You’re so beautiful, Juliet. This is so beautiful.”
Her hands flail for something to grip onto so I guide one to my lips. I kiss her palm softly. “I want this.”
“I want this,” she repeats on stuttered breaths.
I slide my tongue over her cleft, finally tasting her.
I eat her with abandon. Soft licks and the nip of my teeth on her clit draw her closer to the edge.
I slide a finger into her, then another, marveling at how snug she is.
With my cock aching in my pants, I take her swollen pink nub between my lips and suck.
Her hands thread through my hair as she moans again and again.
It’s a symphony of her pleasure, and as she soars into an orgasm she cries out. I stay in place kissing her inner thighs while I whisper into her skin that she’s just given me the greatest gift of my life.