Page 27
He looked at the tears coursing down my cheeks like he was trying to solve a problem he didn't understand. "I. . . Why are you. . . ? You said. . . " He swallowed and stared over my shoulder, like he couldn't bear to watch anymore. "You don't. . . You and me aren't. . . I thought you. . . " He exhaled slowly, composing himself, and looked back to my eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've been cold, but I can't stay, Kiera. I can't watch it anymore. I need to leave. . . " His voice trailed off in a whisper.
I blinked in disbelief, still waiting to wake from this weird dream. Feeling at my silence that the odd conversation was over, he started to turn away from me. Gut wrenching panic made my body react faster than my mind could follow.
"No!" I practically yelled at him and gripping his arm even tighter than before, I pulled him closer to me. "Please, tell me this isn't because of me, because of you and me. . . "
"Kiera. . . "
I brought my other hand to his chest and stepped closer to him. "No, don't leave because I was stupid. You had a good thing here before I. . . "
He backed up a half-step, but left my hand on his chest. "It's not. . . it's not you. You didn't do anything wrong. You belong to Denny. I never should have. . . " He sighed sadly. "You. . . you and Denny are both. . . "
I stepped closer to him again and pressed myself against him, tears still lightly falling on my cheeks. "Both what?"
He froze and exhaled brokenly, gazing at me intently. "You're both. . . important to me," he whispered.
I leaned in closer, bringing my head closer to his as he looked down at me, breathing slowly through his parted lips. "Important. . . how?"
He lightly shook his head and retreated another half step. "Kiera. . . let me go. You don't want this. . . " he whispered. "Go back inside, go back to Denny. " He moved his hand to pull me off his arm, but I smacked it away.
The word slipped out before I could stop it. "Stay. "
"Please, Kiera, go," he whispered, his beautiful eyes suddenly glistening, his perfect face torn.
"Stay. . . please. Stay with me. . . don't leave me," I begged quietly, my voice breaking on the last word. I didn't know what I was saying. I just couldn't bear the thought of never seeing him again.
One single tear rolled down his cheek and the thing inside me broke completely. His pain, his suffering, awakened feelings in me for him that I had never felt before. I wanted to protect him, I wanted to heal him. I would give anything to take his pain away. The coldness, the irritation, the women, Denny, right and wrong - the pain in his eyes, made everything in mine slip away.
Softly, he still pleaded, but with me or with himself? "Don't. I don't want. . . "
Thoughtless, I placed my free hand upon his cheek and wiped the tear away with my thumb. Instantly I knew it was a mistake. The touch was far too intimate. The heat of his skin seemed to radiate all the way up my arm, igniting my whole body. His breath stopped as our eyes locked and I knew I needed to turn and run back to the bar as fast as I could. I also knew it was too late.
"Kiera, please. . . let me go," he whispered.
I ignored him and brought my other hand to the back of his neck. I pulled him to me until my lips brushed his. I couldn't bear to look at his face, to see what he was thinking - I didn't know what I was thinking - so I closed my eyes tightly and softly pressed against him again. His body stiffened, but his lips didn't resist me.
"Don't do this. . . " he whispered, almost too softly for me to hear, and I still didn't know which one of us he was talking to. I pressed harder against his lips and he made a noise, almost as if in pain. "What are you doing, Kiera?" he whispered his question again, his body still rigid.
I paused with my lips barely brushing his. "I don't know. . . just don't leave me, please don't leave me," I whispered breathlessly, keeping my eyes firmly closed, not wanting to see his reaction to my begging.
He exhaled softly and whispered, "Kiera. . . please. . . " Then, finally, and with a shudder passing through his entire body, he roughly pressed his lips to mine, kissing me intensely.
He brought his arms firmly around my waist and clutched me tightly against him. His lips parted and his tongue brushed mine. I made a noise at the sensation, at the taste of him and eagerly sought him again. Through the mental fog of feeling my lips move against his and my fingers locking into his thick hair, I was vaguely aware that we were moving. He was pulling me slowly forward. I didn't know where or why and I didn't care, as long as he didn't stop touching me. I felt him bump against something solid and took the opportunity to press him back into it, pushing myself as close to him as physically possible. His breath quickened along with mine, and he groaned as he pulled me against him.
His hands slipped under my shirt to clutch at my lower back and I sighed as his skin caressed mine. One of his hands pulled away and reached behind him, to whatever he was pressed against. I heard a click and finally cracked my eyes open, to see where we were.
He was leaning against the closed door of the espresso stand that sat in the middle of the parking lot. Somewhere in my head I knew it was nearby, I just hadn't realized we were that close to it. The hand he had removed from my back was twisted around behind him, turning the doorknob. Miraculously the door was unlocked and opened easily. The part of me that could still perform rational thought, wondered what he would have done if the door had been locked? The majority of my brain couldn't care less. I just wanted to be somewhere slightly more private than this wide open parking lot.
He pushed back from the door slightly, so he could shove it open. Our lips stopped for a moment and I risked a glance into his eyes. My breath stopped at the passion I saw in them. I couldn't think. I couldn't move. All I could do was stare into those deep blue, blazing eyes. He brought his hand around to my back and then slid both of them down. Clutching my upper thighs, he effortlessly picked me up and we backed into the dark stand.
Gently, he released me and closed the door. We stood in the dark for a moment - my arms tight around his neck, one of his hands around my waist, the other lightly pressed against the closed door. It was quiet and our breathing seemed amplified in the stillness. Something about the darkness, the feel of my body pressed against his and the intensity of our breath, snapped my brain off, and the last portion that held any rational thought left me. All that remained was passion, no, need. . . intense, burning need.
He moved then. Slowly, and gripping me very tightly, he sank us to our knees.
My hands flew to his jacket, hastily pulling it off before attacking his shirt, almost frantically tearing the fabric off his body. My eyes had adjusted well enough to the soft light coming in through the high windows, that I could see his sculpted chest. His muscles were surprisingly hard, yet his skin was astonishingly soft. Perfect. I ran my fingers down that skin, grazing my fingertips over the deep lines, while his chest rose and fell with his heavy breath. I traced every defined crease of his abdomen, lingering on the long V at the bottom. He groaned deeply and sucked in a quick breath. I felt my body respond instantly, felt the ache for him building, and made a pleasant noise of my own when he brought his warm mouth to my neck. His lips trailed down my skin as he slipped off my jacket and unbuttoned my shirt. I was getting overwhelmed, almost impatient, I wanted him so much. I ripped my shirt off once he undid the last button, so I could feel our skin press together.
He exhaled heavily and raking his eyes up and down my body in a way that made me shiver, he ran a palm down my neck, down my chest, and down to my waist; my skin burned pleasurably wherever he touched me. I moaned so loudly that, if I'd have had a conscious thought left, I'd have been really embarrassed about it. He exhaled again and ran his hand right back up my skin, pausing to cup my breast and tease the nipple through the light fabric. My breath was almost a pant and I arched against his hand. I couldn't take any more of this. I needed him, now. I found his lips again; his breath was coming as quickly as mine.
Reaching out with one arm, h
e lowered us both to the floor and I didn't even care that it was filthy. The aroma of coffee assaulted me. It mixed with his enticing scent in such an appealing way, that I knew I would forever combine the two. I lightly raked my fingers down his back and he made a deep noise in his throat that thrilled me. I eagerly pushed his hips away from me, so I could get to his jeans. He groaned with need and inhaled through his teeth, as I unbuttoned and unzipped them. I pushed them down his hips and paused a moment to take in the sight of him. He was incredibly ready for me, hard and straining against his clothes, and the knowledge that my body did that to him, made me ache, desperately ready as well. My fingers lightly traveled down the length of him and he gently pushed his hips into me as his forehead dropped to touch mine. I curled my hand around him, through his shorts, remembering what him being inside of me felt like, needing to feel it again. His lips attacked mine as his hands suddenly got very busy, scrunching up my loose skirt and roughly pulling down my underwear. I couldn't think. I wanted him so badly it hurt.
"Oh god. . . please, Kellan. . . " I moaned in his ear.
He quickly adjusted his clothes and pushed himself into me before my addled brain could even process what had happened. I had to lightly bite his shoulder to keep from screaming out with the pleasure of it. He buried his head in my neck and paused to catch his breath. In my impatience, I raised my hips to his and he groaned, pushing hard against me. I wanted it harder. Surprisingly I told him so, and he roughly, and eagerly, obliged.
"God, Kiera. . . " I heard a faint, "god. . . yes," and then he muttered something else incomprehensible into my neck. His words, his tone, and his hot breath across my skin, sent a shockwave through my body and I gripped him even tighter.
Scorching heat raged through me and I shook lightly from the intensity. It was familiar, but new. It was so much different than the first time - more intense, harder and rougher. . . yet inexplicably sweeter, all at the same time. He plunged hard and deep, and I eagerly met him for each thrust, neither one of us caring about prolonging this - just needing to satisfy the ache that was building second by second. As every sensation in my body started rising, as I could feel the end of the crest approaching, I lost control of what very little control I had left. I couldn't hold back the sounds my body demanded I made, and it pleased me greatly that he had given up as well, his groans and cries matching my own.
In the final moment of pure ecstasy, when I could feel my body clenching around the length of him deep inside of me as I came, my fingers once again raked down his back. . . but this time hard - very, very hard. I felt the wetness of his blood as I cut through skin and he gasped in. . . pain. . . pleasure? It only intensified the moment for me, and I let out a long cry as I rode out the warm sensation expanding deep within my core. He answered with a deep moan of his own, and clutched my thigh so hard I knew I would bruise, as he drove into me a final few times with his own release.
In the very next moment, that very instant that all of the passion leeched from my body, my rational brain woke up. With an icy blast that made my whole body shiver, I realized in horror what we had just done - what I had just done. I closed my eyes. It was a dream, just an intense dream. Any second, I'll wake up. Only. . . it wasn't. I brought shaking hands to my mouth and tried in vain to choke back the sobs that were now unstoppable.
Kellan looked away from me. Pulling back slightly, he fixed his jeans before sitting back on his heels. Staring at the floor, he grabbed his shirt and limply held it in his hands while his whole body shook lightly from the cold.
My stomach clenched and I feared I might vomit as I struggled to fix my skirt and slip my underwear back up. I found my blouse and managed to slip the shirt back on, redoing the buttons with one hand, while clutching my mouth closed with the other, afraid that if I let go, I would lose the battle with my stomach. My whole body shook with racking sobs. Other then lightly shaking, Kellan never moved, never looked up from the floor, made no attempt to help me in any way.
My mind couldn't process anything. I couldn't understand what had happened, how my body had so vehemently betrayed my mind. Why would I let him touch me that way? Why would I so eagerly touch him, want him, beg him? And god. . . Denny. . . I couldn't even finish that thought.