Everything You Need (19 page)

She played with her fingers. “He must have loved her very much.”

“Yes, he did. We all did, and we miss her terribly, but we’ve moved on, while he hasn’t. I don’t think he can get over it.” Camden cleared his throat. “After Kate’s death, he did some pretty stupid things and he was involved in a few accidents with his bike. It was as if he was trying to die. He made everybody worry. It’s better now, but he’s not the same man he was before Kate’s death. I don’t think he’ll ever stop grieving for her and allow another woman to take Kate’s place. Even if that woman looks like her.”

Kris bit inside of her cheek. Camden’s story should have made her like Ashton less, not more, and here she was with her heart aching for him. The loss of Kate had cut into his life, changing him, probably making him afraid of experiencing the same loss if he allowed himself to love again the way he had loved Kate. She could relate to that. Because of disappointment over her relationship with Peter, she didn’t allow men to get close to her, afraid that as soon as they learned about her mother’s addiction and that she was her mother’s caregiver, they would try to bully her into throwing her mother out of the apartment like Peter had, and then when they didn’t succeed, leave her.

“Are you in love with him?”

“No.” Her eyebrows furrowed and she scratched her nails against her jeans.
Am I?
With the way he was always in her mind she might as well be. She really should stay away from him, she was already infatuated with him and too attached to him already, but there were still five and a half hours she owed him. Five hours of resisting him, of resisting herself... Could she take it, or would she crumble beneath her desire for him? Because she did desire him. It was like her body needed him; his touch, his caress and his warmth. She could pay him back. It was easier to gather five hundred and fifty than three thousand. She could clear out everything left in her savings account and ask her dad for the difference. He would never give her money for her mother, but if she lied to him he might be willing to give her a few hundred for personal expenses -- something that she wanted, but because of her tight budget she couldn’t afford.

Chapter 20

“What happened?” Kris’s hand slid over the outline of Ashton’s jaw, where a bluish mark marred the skin, her fingers cool and gentle.

He leaned into the touch. “Nothing.” Why was she being so kind to him? After his clash with Camden, he had expected her to be even colder than she had been on Friday. Camden probably hadn’t mentioned anything to her.

“Did somebody attack you? You should contact the police.”

“Nobody attacked me.” He bent his head and turned it until her fingers were over his mouth. He kissed them, then took her hand and lowered it. He laced their fingers. Her small hand fit so well against his. “If I had known that you would let go of your grudge because of a few bruises, I would have acquired them sooner.”

“How did you get them?”

“I fought.”

“You fought?” A cute crease cut into the spot between her eyebrows.

She’s worried about me.
He smiled down at her. “Yeah. A friend organizes fights and sometimes I participate. It’s a way of letting off some steam.” The fingers of his free hand combed away the blond strands of hair from her forehead and temple. He tucked them behind her ear, delighted that she didn’t flinch or move away.

“Isn’t it dangerous?”

“Like all fighting matches.”

She glanced down at their hands and frowned. “Your hands. They look horrible.” With her fingers she glided over the broken skin of his knuckles. “You really are prone to accidents.” She flashed a small smile at him before a crease was again between her eyebrows and her gaze on his hand. “Shouldn’t you bandage them?”

Because of his previous accident with the wall, his right hand was in worse shape than his left, but they were superficial wounds that healed the best unbound. “They’re just scratches.”

She shook her head and put some distance between them, as much as his hold on her hand allowed her. She swung their arms. “What do you want to do today?”

Was this the same girl that had, just two days ago, been unapproachable and all clammed up, the one that had asked him not to touch her? “Who are you and what have you done with Kris?”

She rolled her eyes.

He tugged her closer until they were chest to chest, ignoring the soreness of his body, which ached when she bumped against him. Without releasing her hand, he wrapped his arm around her waist so that her arm was behind her back, the back of her hand against the small of her back. He bent over her and buried his nose in her hair to deeply inhale her scent. He missed her, her scent and the feel of her skin.

She pushed herself onto her toes, wrapped her free arm around his neck and pressed herself against him.

What happened that made you so willing to accept my advances?
he was tempted to ask, but life had taught him that whenever he got something he wanted, he shouldn’t question why, just grab it with both hands and give a polite thank you. “Are we good now?”

“I guess.”

“No more being the iceberg?”

“The iceberg? Was I so cold?” She tilted her head backwards.

“Worse.” He stared at her mouth, the lovely pink curves of her lips. He wanted to kiss her.

Her tongue darted out and glided over her lower lip before she sucked it in, while her fingers crawled up his neck until she had them buried in the hair at the nape of his neck. She tugged on the tie that held his hair in a ponytail.

He was supposed to ask her what had happened to her tenant, but all he could do was stare down at her. He wanted her so badly that it hurt. “I love you.” He loved her so much that he had been going crazy when she had shut him out and when she said that she had chosen that man over him. They would have to talk about that, about what had changed to make her accept him so willingly, but not now, later. They would talk about that later, after he’d had his fill of her.

“You mean
like
me?” she whispered.

No, love you.
But if she preferred ‘like me,’ that was okay with him. His mouth descended on hers. He kissed her like his life depended on it. He was a man drowning in the need for her taste, in the raw desire that urged him to push her against the wall and to lose himself in her. But he wanted to savour her slowly and thoroughly. When the kiss ended, he trailed small kisses over her jaw and down her neck. “You taste so good, so sweet that I want to lick you like a piece of candy.”

She wiggled her hand out of the hold of his fingers and wrapped it around his shoulder. “If you... If you’re going to keep doing that, we’re not going to get any work done.”

“This is work.” He chuckled, his breath brushing against her skin, while his hands caressed her side. “No, this is pleasure. Always a pleasure.”

Her fingers massaged his hairline at the back of his neck, while her other hand stroked its way down his shoulder then down his side. It touched the curve of his lower rib.

He flinched and his hand covered hers.

She looked at him from under her eyelashes and her fingers dug into his side.

“Don’t do that,” he gasped out as his body curled sideways.

Her eyebrows lowered as she moved away from him and tugged his blue shirt and undershirt up. She drew in a sharp breath.

“It’s just a bruise.” He shoved the fabric down, covering the purple spot that stretched over the side of his stomach.

She refused to release the shirt. “Let me see.”

“You just want to see me topless.”

“Yeah, I just want to see you topless.” Her fingers slid up his side. “Does it hurt?”

“Then say so. There’s no need to be shy.” He pulled the shirts off and tossed them onto the coffee table, then, ignoring the dull ache, he tensed his abdominal muscles and flexed his arms. “So what do you think?”

She slowly went around him, his fingers tiptoeing over his skin. “Your defence -- it’s called defence when you are blocking the opponent’s hits, right?”

“Yes.”

“Your defence sucks. Look how many bruises you have.”

“You should see my opponents.” He glanced at her over his shoulder, watching her as she stared at the small of his back.

She touched the spot between the spine and hip, just above the waistband. “What’s this?”

“A tattoo of a star.” He pushed his waistband down to expose the inked outline of a star. He had an identical one in front, just above his hip bone.

“Why haven’t I noticed it before?”

“I don’t know.” He grinned. “You’re probably too preoccupied with other things.”

“There’s a scar.”

“Yes.” She didn’t say anything, as if she was waiting for him to continue. He sighed. “I was in an accident. I ended up impaled on a metal pole. It went in here.” He pointed at his hipbone. “And out here.” The tip of his finger rubbed the inked skin on his back. “It reminds me of how lucky I am.”

“That you survived?”

“That I didn’t kill anybody.”

Her hand touched the back of his shoulder. “What happened?”

He pushed his hands into his pockets. “That was a period in my life when I was a little, erm...” Suicidal. “I was a little reckless, and I liked to drive my bike too fast.” He furrowed his brow as he remembered the greyness of clouds reflecting on the puddles on the ground, the droplets of water oozing down his visor and the child’s vivid blue dress as she ran across the street. With his bike going way over the speed limit, he wouldn’t have been able to stop in time. He could have evaded her, but there was a car coming from the opposite direction. “There was a child on a street and the only way to avoid hitting her was to drive into a fence or into an oncoming car. I chose the fence.”

“Was the child okay?”

“Yes, she was fine, not a scratch, while I ended up in the hospital for months. But I could have killed her. It’s one thing to endanger my own life, but to endanger other people...” He was lucky, he had only ended up with broken bones and some damage to his internal organs, when his recklessness could have murdered a child. “That was the last time I drove that recklessly.”

Kris’s arms embraced his middle and she leaned her cheek against the spot between his shoulder blades.

A ghost of a smile curled his mouth, with his hands he covered hers. “It was a long time ago.”

“I’m not comforting you. I’m just tired and I need to lean on something.”

“’Wouldn’t you rather lie down, then?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, yeah, very much.” He lifted his arm and with his hand around her forearm he tugged her around, until he had her against his front. He embraced her and rested his chin on the top of her head. “I like seeing this playful side of you. You should be like that more often.”

Her fingers tiptoed over his chest.

“Ouch.”

“I’m sorry.” She tried to shift away, but he didn’t allow her.

“If that were true, you would have kissed it all better.”

“Do you have a boo-boo?” She smiled up at him.

“More than one, I’m afraid. Here.” He leaned down and pointed at his jaw.

She kissed it.

“Here.” He touched his arm.

She left his embrace to press a kiss on his arm. Then she took first his right hand, then his left, her lips touching every one of his knuckles. “Anywhere else?

“Here.” He pointed at his side.

“That’s quite a swelling.” She moved away from him, crouched down and trailed small kisses against his side.

Her lips felt good as they glided over his skin and as he watched the top of her head, he imagined her on her knees before him and her mouth on him. The image pumped the blood a little faster through his veins; he hardened. “There’s a larger one down south.”

She straightened and pinched her eyebrows together.

He glanced down at his crotch.

Her eyes followed his gaze. “Oh.” Redness dusted her cheeks. She looked up at him.

He grinned. “Is there any possibility that you would be willing to do something about it?”

She bit her lower lip as her eyes measured him for a moment. “I might.” She set her hands on his hips and went down on her knees.

Heat spread through his body and his knees felt strangely weak. “Are you for real?”

“Do you want me to do something about it or not?”

Who was she and where was the real Kris? “Yes, yes, please.” He enthusiastically snapped his head up and down.

She pushed the waistband of his cotton pants down and freed him from the confinement of his boxers before her fingers gently trailed up and down the length of him.

He buried his fingers in her hair, combing through it. Was she really going to do it?

Another one of her small smiles graced her lips before she leaned over him and took him into her mouth.

The pleasure of feeling her around his cock was so intense that his knees buckled and his hand curled around her shoulder for support. His eyes wanted to close and to allow bliss to wash over him, but he stubbornly kept them open. He watched her head bobbing while her mouth glided up and down his hardness and her tongue twirled around the head. He tried not to moan and failed. He wanted to memorise this moment, because it was special. This was the moment when Kris had gotten down on her knees for him, for the first time, and he hadn’t even had to beg for it. As she sucked him, her eyes were cast downwards and he wanted her to gaze up at him. “Look at me,” he softly requested as he gently tugged on her hair.

Her eyes lifted.

A raw pleasure spiralled behind his balls. He gasped, locked his jaw and, with his fingers gripping her hair, stilled her movement. “Don’t,” he breathed out. He gently pushed her away then jerked her upright.

She frowned.

He pressed a kiss on the crease between her eyebrows. He was tired, not just because of the fights, but because since their last meeting he’d had trouble sleeping because of her. “When I come, I want to be inside you,” he whispered against her skin. “Do you want me inside you?”

She swallowed, her eyes glazed, and nodded.

He led her toward the couch, slumped down on it and pulled her into his lap, her back against his chest. He leaned his cheek against hers, while his hands slipped under the tunic she wore over leggings. “You feel so good.”

With a soft sigh, she leaned the back of her head against his shoulder.

Ignoring his aching erection, his fingers went under the fabric of her leggings and panties to play with the short hair that covered her intimate parts, while with his other hand he drew circular patterns on her belly. “I just can’t get enough of you.”

She bucked her hips forward and up.

The tip of his fingers grazed against her. She was already moist and ready for him. He pressed a kiss on her temple then glided his mouth downwards to her cheek. “You are like an addiction.” He pushed his finger into her.

She emitted a sweet little sound.

He longed to hear more of that, and he did as he started to move his fingers in and out of her, while he massaged her tight bud with his thumb. His left hand cupped her breast and kneaded it as he trailed kisses on her temple, cheek and the line of her jaw.