Killian Read online

  He stepped forward, and I leaned back, the railing of the balcony cool against my skin, draped in the low cut fabric of my dress. Silas slid his hand around my waist, the gesture possessive. When he spoke, his voice was low and hoarse. “Would you like me to say hello?” he asked.

  “That would be nice.”

  “Hello, Tempest.”

  The way he said it, deep in his throat, made me weak, and I swallowed hard before I spoke. “Hello, Silas.”

  “Would you like to sit?” His hand slid to the middle of my stomach, lingering for a moment, and the movement sent a shock of arousal like electricity, running through my veins.

  “No.”

  “Can I buy you a cocktail?” He traced his finger up the middle of my abdomen, in between my breasts, to the top of my cleavage, and paused there.

  “No.”

  He lowered his gaze to my chest, as he traced the outline of the top of my breasts, just above the material on my dress. I lightly closed my eyes, thrown back to feeling seventeen again, anticipating his body pressed against mine.

  "There," he said. "That's out of the way. Are you happy now?"

  "Ecstatic," I said. “Was it so hard to extend a little courtesy to an old friend?”

  He grunted in response. “Is that what we are, Tempest? Old friends? Why the hell are you suddenly showing up in my life?"

  I shrugged, the gesture a hell of a lot more nonchalant than I felt. Outside, I was the picture of calm. Inside was an entirely different story. "Coincidence," I said. "Or maybe it's just the universe's twisted sense of humor."

  I was aware of Silas's finger, paused at the top of my breast, unmoving. My breath hitched in my throat.

  "What were you doing with Coker?" he asked.

  "I can't tell you that, Silas." I wanted to explain, to tell him why I was doing what I was doing, to tell him that I wasn't who I was back then, back when I was an accomplice to my parents' scams. But I knew the explanation would ring hollow. Besides, what the hell did I know about Silas anymore? Could I even trust him?

  Silas looked down at me, his blue eyes filled with a mixture of lust and anger. He slipped a finger underneath the fabric of my dress, against my bare breast.

  I inhaled sharply, tasting the coolness of the air, and looked behind him to the restaurant, aware that he was barely blocking my body with his.

  "Would you rather be inside, with your business partners?" he asked, noticing my glance. His finger slipped further down, brushing over my nipple, which stiffened immediately in response to his touch.

  I heard a moan escape my lips.

  "I'm out here with you, aren't I?" I asked. I couldn't think. Not when he began teasing me, swirling his finger around and around my nipple.

  "Yes, but I did have to drag you out here by your hair," he said. "If you'd like to leave..." His voice trailed off, but his finger didn't stop moving. I didn't respond to his implication that I was free to go.

  Not verbally, anyway.

  Instead, I arched my back into his touch.

  Giving him permission.

  Silas pressed me harder against the balcony wall, leaning closer against me and nudging my knees apart with his leg. I felt the fabric of my dress rise up my thigh. He didn't take his eyes off mine as he took his hand from my breast and reached down to the hem of my dress, on the inside of my thigh.

  I shook my head. "Not here." I could barely get the words out. Arousal flooded my head, making it impossible to think.

  "No one can see us," he said. His fingers touched the crease at the top of my thigh, and I gasped.

  "Silas," I said, more of a moan than an intelligible word.

  "No panties?" he asked, his tone more of a statement than a question. "Hell, Tempest."

  I shook my head. It was dizzying, being so close to him again. "Panty lines," I said softly. "I don't like them."

  "Fuck."

  "Is that what you're looking for, Silas?" I asked. I wasn't sure if I was challenging him or offering. "A quick fuck, for old time's sake?"

  His hand moved, inched its way between my legs, and his finger found my clit. When he touched me, I moaned, louder than I intended. He leaned in close to me, his mouth near my ear, and spoke low. "I'm definitely going to fuck you, Tempest," he said. "But there's going to be nothing quick about it. I'm going to feel you come, right here, right now, on my fingers. And then I'm taking you to wherever the hell you're staying, and I'm going to reacquaint myself with how it felt to have you come on my cock."

  Heat rose over my face, and I could feel my cheeks flush. "You're brazen, aren't you?" I asked. "Not exactly the old Silas I used to know."

  Silas teased my entrance with the tip of his finger until I was clutching him, digging my fingers into his arms. Then he plunged his finger inside me. "Things change," he said.

  "Not everything," I said. Some things stay exactly the same.

  Silas made a sound, low in his throat, something akin to a growl, and lowered his mouth to mine, kissing me hungrily, his tongue seeking mine. It was rough, hard.

  If it was possible for a kiss to be filled with years of unspoken anger, this was that kiss.

  It was familiar and strange.

  Silas was familiar and strange all at the same time.

  My body felt like it was on fire, ignited by the warmth of him against me. I wanted to rip his clothes off, press my body against his, feel his skin on mine. I wanted him to crush me with his touch.

  I arched my back, meeting him as he kissed me, not wanting him to let go. Not wanting him to stop doing what he was doing between my legs, his fingers beckoning inside me, stroking me, bringing me higher and higher.

  When he tore his lips away from mine, I threw my head back, my hair spilling over my shoulders. Silas ran his lips down the side of my neck, then up to my ear, the flicker of his tongue over my earlobe sending a shiver up my spine.

  "Oh God, Silas," I said.

  He whispered, his lips close to my ear. "Come on me."

  "You...shouldn't...out here...Silas." My voice was breathy, my words coming out in between gasps.

  "Come on me," he said, his voice insistent. He stroked me, the pads of his fingers inside me pressing against that most sensitive place.

  "Silas...you...should...stop."

  He paused. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked. "Be damned sure about that."

  No. That wasn't what I wanted.

  What did I want again? I pressed against his hand.

  "That's a no, then," he said. "You want me to keep going."

  "Yes," I said.

  But he didn't move. Instead, he ran his tongue over my earlobe, breathed heat against me. "Say it, then."

  "Yes. Keep going," I said, my voice nearly a whine.

  He made a clucking sound with his tongue. "You really need to learn manners and courtesy," he said. "Ask me nicely."

  I laughed, turned my face to meet him, my lips grazing his. "You're joking."

  He rolled his thumb over my clit. "Hardly," he said. "What do you want, Tempest? If you want me to keep going, you should say it - please, Silas, bring me to the edge, make me come right here, on your fingers."

  I opened my mouth, my head clouded by desire. God, it would be so easy, so incredibly easy, to just say please. To beg Silas, the way he wanted me to.

  But fuck that arrogant son of a bitch.

  "No," I said, my eyes trained on his. "You know I'm not that kind of a girl."

  "The kind who says please?" he asked.

  "The kind who begs," I said, coming to my senses. Who the hell did Silas think he was, waltzing back into my life, grabbing me by the scruff of the neck, and telling me what to do? Telling me he was going to fuck me senseless if I just asked him politely?

  The corners of Silas' mouth turned up. His fingers still lodged firmly inside me, he leaned close to me, kissed me on the lips, this time gently, taking my lower lip between his teeth and tugging at it before letting it go.

  Then he slid his fingers from between my legs, a