Killian: A West Bend Saints Romance (55 page)

W
hen I woke
, sunlight was streaming through the windows and bathing the room in its golden light. Beside me, Silas pressed his body against mine. When I moved, he murmured something and pulled me tighter against him.

Lying in bed like this with him was a first. When we were teenagers, it was frantic coupling in an abandoned hunting cabin or outside on a blanket under the stars. Never like this.

It was nice. But at the same time, the bitter sweetness of it broke my fucking heart.

Silas slid his hand down the side of my hip, nuzzled his face against my neck. "Good morning."

"Good morning."

Silas ran his hand over my hip, his erection pressed into me. My body immediately responded, my nipples hardening as he brushed his hands over my breasts. "Tempest," he said, his hand moving back down to grab a handful of my ass. "I can't get enough of you."

"You sure had me enough last night," I said, barely able to keep the smile from covering my face. "I barely got any sleep."

"Mhmm," he murmured. "Are you complaining? It doesn't feel like your body is complaining." He reached down between my legs, found my clit and simultaneously pulled my ass against him.

I laughed. "I'm not complaining in the least," I said. But I swatted his hand away. "I have to pee."

I slipped out of bed, dodging Silas and laughing as he lunged at me, trying to make another grab for me. Inside the bathroom, I brushed my teeth and generally made myself presentable, marveling at my horrendous case of bed-head.

Silas pushed open the door and walked inside.

I whirled around. "Silas!" I squealed, my voice high pitched. "The door was closed. Inappropriate, much?"

"What? I'm out there about to piss myself," he said, grinning, standing in front of me, morning wood evident.

"So you're about to pee in front of me?" I asked, shielding my eyes and stepping around him. "I don't need to see that!"

"Are we not in that place yet?" he asked over his shoulder as I shut the door behind me. I heard him chuckle.

"No!" I yelled. "We are definitely not in that place."

When he emerged from the bathroom, he stood, hands on his waist. "So, no peeing in front of you," he said. "Anyone ever tell you you're kind of a prude?"

"Yeah, I'm totally a prude" I said. "Just because I don't want to see you take a leak. I'm like a fucking nun."

"You've got a dirty little mouth," Silas said, grinning. He grabbed my waist, his hand circling around it, to the small of my back.

"Maybe you should wash it out," I said.

"Shit, Tempest," he said. "Don't tempt me. You're going to have me thinking about what I should use to wash it out. We didn't finish things that way last night, if you recall."

If I recalled.
Yeah, I definitely remembered being on my knees at Silas' feet, his cock in my mouth. The memory brought an instantaneous rush of heat between my legs.

"We could finish things that way today," I said, my hand trailing down, my palm rolling over his hardness.

"I fully intend to," he said, his mouth close to my ear. "I'm going to put my face between your legs and lick you until you scream. I want you to come on my tongue."

I stroked the length of his cock with my hand. "Are you trying to start something with me right now?"

Silas growled in my ear. "Nope," he said. "I've got water running in the bathroom." He turned, and I followed, padding across the marble tiles in the expansive bathroom, where the tub in the middle of the room was nearly filled to the brim, bubbles dancing along the surface.

Silas leaned over and turned off the water, and his gaze met mine. "What?"

"A bubble bath?"

He shrugged. "You saw the shithole where I grew up," he said, crossing to where I stood and drawing me in to kiss me. "You brought this poor white trash boy to a fucking penthouse suite in Las Vegas. You might be used to this kind of thing, but I'm not. So you're going to climb into this bathtub that's the size of a small pool, and let me do what I've always wanted to do to you."

I looked up at him. "What's that?"

"Run my hands all over you in the tub," he said, sliding his fingers through my hair before he kissed me gently on the lips. "Wash you."

"You want to take a bath with me," I repeated, distracted by his fingers on my head.

"I want to enjoy this place with you," he said. "The tub, the bedroom, the living room, the hallway. I want you all over this place."

"Silas," I started. Part of me wanted to leave, right now. Run. I was headed back to Colorado to see my grandmother, and then who knew where. Somewhere overseas, probably. And then New York. Next month, someplace else. And Silas was in Vegas now, fighting.

I didn't stay in one place. Not for him, and not for anyone. No matter how much I wanted to.

Not that he was even asking.

But I could feel the impulse to stay with him here, playing house in this giant hotel room, spending days in bed.

That feeling was dangerous.

Silas seemed to sense my hesitation, and put his finger to my lips. "Don't say another fucking word," he warned. "Whatever you're thinking, don't say it. This is what it is. I want you, and I'm going to have you, bright eyes. I'm not arguing with you, and I'm not playing. I don't give a shit about anything else. Right here, right now, you're mine and that's all there is to it."

I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off.

"If I have to kiss the words right out of you, so help me, Tempest, I will," he promised, before he brought his mouth down on mine, leaving me speechless. He pulled away. "Now," he said. "Get in that fucking bathtub before I throw you in there myself."

I shook my head, laughing as I stepped into the tub and the warmth of the water enveloped me. I didn't know what the hell to make of Silas anymore.

He ducked out of the bathroom, and when he emerged, I heard the stereo on, Matt Nathanson singing about drowning in love, and Silas had a bottle of champagne and two glasses in his hand. "I found this in your refrigerator," he said.

"At - what time is it, anyway?" I asked.

"I don't have a clue," he said, grinning as he filled the glasses and handed me one. "And I don't want to know. I don't care. Nothing else matters to me right now."

Silas slid into the tub, holding his glass high, out of the water. He sat opposite me, leaning back, and smiled before he sipped from his glass. "So is this what it's like all the time?"

"What?" I asked. "Champagne and bubble baths?"

"Yeah," he said. "Living the high life?"

"Sometimes," I said.

"Should I ask how you got here, after your parents took off? Or do I not want to know?"

I shrugged. "It's complicated. You don't want to know."

He nodded. "Nothing about you is simple, Tempest," he said. He downed his glass in one gulp, then set it on the floor beside the tub.

I smiled wistfully. "None of the best things in life are easy."

"Come over here," he said, taking my glass from my hand and setting it beside his on the floor before pulling me against him. He ran his hands over my wet body, circling my breasts, and I felt a rush of arousal at his touch.

Cupping his hands, he brought water up to the top of my head. It trickled down my hair and over my back, and he ran his hands over my hair again and again.

I rested against him, closing my eyes as he washed my hair slowly and tenderly without saying a word. For a while I just got lost in his touch and the music. I didn't know if it was all of the sex the night before, or the lack of sleep, or the heat from the bath, or the glass of champagne, but I felt tipsy, drunk on him.

I slid underneath the water and rinsed my hair, and when I came up, Silas pulled me against him on top of his lap, his hardness evident.

"I want you," he said, guiding the head of his cock to my entrance. I rocked on him little by little, sliding onto his length until he was fully inside me. My hair fell forward, dripping, sending little rivulets of water running down his face as my lips found his. I didn't say anything, just moved against him, slowly at first, and then harder as I became more aroused. Silas gripped my ass, grinding me down on him.

"Tempest," he said, his voice hoarse. "I don't think you have a clue what you do to me."

I moaned, my tongue catching on his teeth as I kissed him harder, pressing my breasts against his chest. He cupped one of my breasts in his hand, then covered it with his mouth, swirling his tongue around my nipple, and sucking me as I rode him.

"That's it," he growled. "Take it deeper. Ride my cock."

My movements became faster as I took him deeper inside me. He grabbed a handful of hair and pulled my head back as he kissed me hungrily, his teeth grazing over my cheeks, my jawline, and down my neck.

"Fuck me, Silas," I demanded, placing my palms on the edge of the tub behind him to brace myself.

When I slipped, Silas growled. "This damn bathtub," he said, lifting me off his cock. "Out. Now."

I stepped out of the tub and tossed Silas a towel, pausing to watch the water run down his body. He wrapped me in the towel, patting me down hastily before he gave himself a quick brush down with it, then dropped it on the ground.

We walked out of the bathroom, me first, backwards so I could look at him.

"What are you looking at?" he asked, grinning.

"You."

"Do you like what you see?"

I smiled and rolled my eyes. "You just want me to stroke your ego."

He nodded and wiggled his eyebrows, the gesture exaggerated. "That's not all I fucking want you to stroke," he said.

I laughed. "Filthy boy."

"You seem to bring it out of me," he said, reaching for me, and I side-stepped him. "Oh, is that how it's going to be? I will chase you down if I have to."

"Come and get me then," I said, turning and heading through the room. From behind me, Silas laughed, catching me as I rounded the hallway.

"Good thinking," he said, picking me up, his hands under my ass. I wrapped my legs around his waist. "I haven't had you in this room yet."

T
empest laughed
.  "So you're going to have me everywhere in this hotel suite?"

I looked at her.  "Did you think I was fucking joking?"  I asked.  "It's been seven years since I've seen you.  I've got a lot of pent up shit to work out with you."

That
was a goddamned understatement.

Besides, I was going back home, not sticking around in Vegas. Who the hell even knew where Tempest was going, or where she lived anymore? If I was going to work out all this angst with her, now was my only option.

"You're going to work it out by fucking me all over this hotel, then?" Tempest asked.

"That seems like as good of a plan as any," I said.  "I told you I was going to take you all over here. I just haven't decided where the hell I want you."

The grand piano was just sitting there, taunting me.

So I walked over to it, still holding Tempest, and she glanced over her shoulder, laughing. "The piano?" she asked.  “Really?”

“What?” I asked.  “The top of it is down. I’m sure it can hold you.”

“Oh, just me, then?” she asked.  “You’re not about to climb up there with me?”

“Well, let’s not be fucking ridiculous,” I said, setting her ass on the edge of the piano and pushing apart her thighs.

Tempest laughed, leaning forward, her hair spilling over her forehead and obscuring her eyes.  “You’re the one putting my naked ass on top of a piano,” she said.  “Who do you think you are, Christian what's-his-name?”

I pulled her forward so that her ass was on the edge, and bent down, touching my tongue to her.  “You taste so fucking sweet, I can't help it,” I said.  “And who the hell is Christian? I hope you're not talking about a boyfriend.”

She didn't answer, just let out a moan as I began to lick her slowly, carefully, my tongue exploring her before I focused on her clit. Tempest grasped the back of my head, pushed me tighter against her and I pulled back. "So?" I asked.

“So, what?” she murmured, her breath ragged.

“Who's this Christian guy?”

“You know. From that book, the BDSM one,” she said, and I covered her clit again just to tease her, sucking it into my mouth and eliciting another moan from her.  I teased her entrance with my tongue, her taste sweet and salty at the same time. "I can't...remember...the name...right now."

“I was thinking that eating you out on the piano would be more like that movie, the one with the rich businessman and the prostitute.”  I slid my finger inside her, stroking her gently while I returned my mouth to her clit.

When she spoke, her words were punctuated with gasps. “You remember.”

I looked up at her from between her thighs.  “I remember you forced me to watch it,” I said, slipping a second finger inside her.

“Oh, God, yes,” she said, tossing her head back.  “You...were...a….shit...I mean, a sport...about it.”

“I just wanted to get in your pants,” I said, returning my mouth to her clit.

She gripped me tighter, pressing me against her again, her moans coming more frequently now.  My cock was rock hard.  I don't know what the hell it was about this girl. But something about her still made me crazy.

"Just like now," she said, her words blurred together.  "Shit...Silas."

I kept going, finding a rhythm with my fingers, stroking her while I pulled her clit into my mouth.  "Oh, darlin', I'm not trying to get in your pants anymore," I said.  "That's a done deal.  I'm about make you come on my tongue, and then I'm going to ride you until you come again."

I slipped my fingers out and buried my face between her legs, tasting her sweetness. I fucked her with my tongue until she came, squeezing my head between her thighs as she leaned forward and clutched my head against her. When she finished, I could taste her on my lips, on my tongue.

But I didn't give her any time to recover. Instead, I slid her off the piano while she was still relaxed, her head against my neck, and deposited her on the nearest thing I could find, this long lounge chair covered in soft velvety-looking fabric.

Then I did what I'd promised. I slid my cock inside her wet pussy, still throbbing from her orgasm, and rode her until I couldn't hold out anymore, finally letting go inside her.

After, I pulled her tight against me, feeling the warmth of her body on mine, listening to the sound of her breathing in the stillness of the room.  I wanted to stay like this, life on pause, lying here with her and pretending that there was something more to this than what it was.

But that was stupid, and she and I both knew that.

What was happening now was what it was. We were working out something from the past and nothing more. Tempest was a con artist, someone who deceived innocent people. No matter how hard it was to imagine, that was a fact.

This was closure, pure and simple.

It couldn't be anything else.

Even if I wanted it to be.