Killian Read online

  "Oh, please. Call Amanda down at the school office and tell her I'm picking Chloe up for you. I've known Amanda since she was knee-high to a grasshopper. She knows I'm not stealing a child."

  "I'm not dumping Chloe on you so I can run around and. . . do whatever, Opal."

  “I think you mean do whoever.”

  I change the subject. "How do you know it's me who needs to apologize?"

  Opal laughs. "It's written all over your face, honey." She reaches into her pocket and withdraws a napkin. "Now, just in case you decide you want to take a little drive and get some fresh air, his address is written right there. It's twenty minutes or so, though, so I wouldn't wait around too long thinking about it."

  It takes me ten minutes to think about it. "Fine. I’m going to apologize. But I'll be back in time to pick up Chloe, Opal."

  "Uh-huh. You have my number if you want help."

  You have a problem accepting help. Killian's voice echoes in my brain.

  "Another time, Opal."

  "I love that little angel, so you leave her with me whenever you like. You know, if you come to your senses regarding that boy and you need some alone time."

  I flip Opal the bird behind my head as I leave.

  I wind up the mountain, half-afraid my car isn't going to make it up these twisty roads. I thought West Bend was a rural little town, but this is on a whole different level. I haven't gone out driving much around here, not with all I've had going on with the store, but now all I can think about is how much Chloe would love to hike through these woods. She drags me on expeditions through the woods behind our house, and we pretend to be explorers as we discover "precious gems" in the stream that winds back behind the property.

  This is a whole different ballgame. This is the kind of place you go because you don't want any company. It’s the kind of place you go because you don't like being around people.

  When I pull up in the driveway, Killian's truck is there but he's not outside. I sit there for a moment behind the steering wheel, gathering my nerves. Then I reach underneath my skirt and slide my panties down my legs, shoving them into the glove compartment.

  I close my car door and pause for a minute, taking it in. It's a cabin – a real-life log cabin, like something out of a magazine, with a front porch that wraps around the entire side and a rocking chair perched in the corner.

  I walk toward the cabin, my heart pounding in my chest. Part of me expects him to come barreling out the door brandishing a shotgun.

  But he doesn't. He pulls open the door, a white towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping down the surface of his skin. I stand there, totally frozen, my eyes on his wide chest. And that towel.

  Heaven help me, I'm so distracted by the fact that he's standing in front of me, naked under that towel and dripping wet from the shower, that my mind goes blank.

  When my eyes finally meet his again, I can't tell if his expression is smug or irritated. Probably both. "What's wrong? Did you come up here to slum it with a filthy mountain man?"

  If I didn't think I actually hurt his feelings before, I know it now. "Killian, the way I reacted the other day –"

  He doesn't let me finish. He grabs a handful of hair at the nape of my neck and plants his mouth on mine. He kisses me angrily, and I can't help it, I moan into his mouth. His hardness is already evident through the towel, pressing against my leg, and heat surges through me, right to my core.

  I don't know why my body reacts the way it does when he touches me, but I don't want him to stop. I want him to keep kissing me like this, hard and angry.

  But he pulls back from me. "Is that what you wanted?" he growls. "That's what you came up here for, right?"

  "Stop being an asshole.”

  “I’m the asshole?”

  “If the butt fits. I came up here to apologize, not to slum it. Not because I wanted to fuck you out here in the middle of nowhere." I pause, exhaling hard as I try to focus on anything but his half-naked body. "I mean, I do want to fuck you out here in the middle of nowhere,” I admit.

  When he just looks at me silently, I plow ahead. "You caught me off-guard with the whole go somewhere else thing," I explain. When he opens his mouth, I hold my hand up again. "Wait. Let me say what I have to say because I want to get it out and the way you're standing here – wet, in a towel, and the way you kissed me just now. . . I'm having a hard enough time just thinking."

  I think I see a faint smile.

  "I haven't dated in – ever, actually. I married my high school boyfriend when I was eighteen years old. We didn't ever go out on a date. Mostly we fooled around in the backseat of his car and then he asked me to marry him and I said yes because I was young and dumb and " I swallow hard. "Anyway, I've never been on a date and I've never been asked out on a date and I definitely didn't expect you to ask me out on a date."

  Killian narrows his eyes. "Why the hell not?"

  "Because you're… you," I say, exasperated as I gesture toward him.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  "You're grumpy and disgruntled and Come on, you're not really a flowers-and-dinner kind of guy."

  Killian crosses his arms over his chest and all I can think about is flicking open that towel and letting it fall to the ground. I inhale deeply, practicing restraint. When did I get so dick-obsessed?

  "Maybe I am a flowers-and-dinner kind of guy," he grumbles. "Hell, maybe I need romanced a little bit. Ever think of that?"

  I can't help but grin. "Good to know. Next time I'll bring flowers. Maybe I'll wine and dine you a little bit. Then we can talk about your feelings. I’ll bring tissues in case you cry.”

  Killian doesn't crack a smile, but I can see it in his eyes now. "Even when you apologize, you're mouthy as hell.”

  "Want to see how mouthy I can be?" My eyes drop lower to the towel that's tented by his cock.

  23

  Killian

  All of the blood in my brain goes straight to my dick as this woman standing in front of me steps forward and flicks the edge of my towel open, catching it before it falls to the ground. Her eyes remain trained on mine as she slowly folds the fabric in half.

  "I can apologize better," she tells me as she lays the towel gently on the front deck before falling to her knees. We're not even inside the house. We're standing in front of the door and I'm naked as a jaybird with this woman at my feet this woman who makes me crazy, who seems to have a way of getting under my skin and grating on my nerves and pissing me off. Except that she also turns me on so hard I can't see straight.

  "I'm still pretty irritated." That's a lie. I might be irritated later, but right now all I can think about is her mouth. That is the only thing in this entire world that matters.

  "I'm sorry," she whispers, wrapping her hand around the base of my cock. I shudder at the sensation of her touch. How many times have I jerked off to the thought of her hand sliding down the length of my cock? Or her lips wrapped around me?

  Her thumb brushes over the tip, catching the pre-cum that beads there. As she opens her mouth, she looks up at me with those large blue-grey eyes. When she pauses, my cock so close to her that I can feel her warm breath, I want to freeze-frame this image in my head forever. I've never seen anything as sexy as she looks right now.

  Then she wraps her lush lips around me. Her mouth is the warmest, wettest thing I've ever felt, and I want to feel it there forever. As she bobs up and down my length, taking more of me with each pass, I grip a handful of her hair, telling myself to stay in control. I try desperately not to do what every part of me is screaming to do: yank her further onto my cock and hold her tightly while I fuck her sassy little mouth.

  I tell myself to be civilized.

  This girl is civilized, I remind myself. She's classy. And smart.

  And she's on her knees, her mouth tight around me, making these little moaning sounds in her throat that send vibrations roaring through me, making it virtually impossible to not lose control.

  Sh