Kissed (19 page)

Read Kissed Online

Authors: Elizabeth Finn

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Contemporary

BOOK: Kissed
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I turned and walked toward my car. It was the most awful feeling in the world, knowing I was walking away from her when I didn’t want to, watching her give up when I wanted to fight. I pulled my keys from my pocket, and I stepped off the curb to round my car.

“I didn’t,” she said quietly.

I froze in place, my brow furrowing as I tried to process those words. I knew what I thought she might be saying, but I was afraid to let myself believe it. I stared away from her, unable to turn back until I knew for sure.

“I couldn’t.”

My breath left me in a rush, and I reached over, steadying myself with my hand on the car.

“I walked away.”

I finally turned. My legs were shaking, my eyes were wide, and I was in a near panic. But it was a good panic. She was still looking at the ground, and she shrugged mildly as she looked up at me. I just stood there, unable to figure out how to move.

When I finally got my feet to work again, I walked up to her. I cupped her cheeks in my hands, my fingers trembling against her skin. “It wouldn’t matter if you did.” I brushed a tear from her cheek with my thumb. “But I’m really happy you didn’t.”

She nodded tersely.

“I’m sorry I made you cry,” I whispered.

Her features twisted as she fought the tears, but she kept nodding, even as she struggled not to fall apart. Her fingers clutched at the front of my shirt, twisting the fabric as she pulled on it. She stepped closer, and I slipped my hand to the back of her neck, pulling her against me. She sank into my chest, and she nuzzled into my neck. We stood there for a long time.

“Come home with me.”

She nodded.

Chapter 14

Gabrielle

HIS
hand was warm as it held mine, and I started to doze off as we drove south toward Chicago.

“I didn’t think about your classes,” he said quietly. “We don’t have to go to Chicago if you need to be in class today.”

I stretched as I sat up straighter and looked at him. He looked exhausted, wiped out. He looked exactly how I felt, and just seeing his tired eyes and feeling the warmth of his hand on mine made me want to curl up next to him and sleep.

I looked away before I could stop myself. “I’m not going to class today.”

He glanced at me quickly, but his eyes narrowed as if seeing through my response. “Is everything okay at school?”

I looked down at my lap, and I shook my head. “No.”

“Gabe—”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now.” I bit into my lower lip. “I kind of feel like I barely survived this night as it is.” I shook my head. “I just… Not right now.”

He took a deep breath, glancing at me quickly again before returning his eyes to the road. “Okay.”

I watched him as I lounged back in my seat comfortably and tried not to drift off again. He was beautiful. He had a strong jaw, and his features were all man, but his lips… Those were almost pretty. They were soft, and when he smirked or bit on his lower lip, it would set off a chain reaction in my gut that sent warmth from one cell to another until my entire body was tingling with arousal.

I’d had that reaction to him from nearly the moment I’d met him. His lips made my mouth water, but it wasn’t the physical beauty of them; it was the connection, the feel, the…kiss. His kiss had touched me in some way, that emotional kind of touch that imprints itself on you when a person reaches you in some way that others can’t. None others ever had.

He was right. I’d been entirely too young to be a prostitute. I’d laughed at him when he’d said it to me, but I was starting to think there was an important point there. What did I know about relationships, love, intimacy? Nothing really. I was too young to understand it fully, too inexperienced and naïve. I sure as hell wasn’t mature and self-aware enough to handle the decisions I’d made.

So it wasn’t at all surprising that no man before Keegan had ever…kissed my soul in the way he had.

“What are you thinking about?”

I sucked in a quick breath when his voice startled me.

“You’re eyeing my lips the way I usually eye yours.” He smirked that devilish smirk of his, and even the tiredness of his eyes couldn’t stifle the raw sexuality of that expression.

I smiled weakly, even as I still focused on his mouth. “Well, I must be thinking about kissing you then.”

He hummed. “Don’t worry. We’re almost home.”

“Why did you say I didn’t understand what I heard Sunday morning?”

Keegan looked worried when he glanced at me, and I almost regretted asking the question, but it was one that deserved an answer, and I needed to hear it.

He took a deep breath. “The men I work for know who you are—at least to some extent. They asked about you, and I…panicked. I didn’t want them to see you as a threat, to see you as anything at all. I wanted to make them understand you have nothing to do with David at this point.” He pulled up to a stoplight, and he placed his hands in his lap as he fully turned to look at me. “They don’t trust David to stay away from you, but as much as they don’t trust David, I don’t trust them. Before I”—He gnawed on the inside of his lower lip as his focus shifted away—“became involved with you, I told them about you.” He looked back at me, his lips pursed. It was guilt. “It’s my fault they know who you are. It’s my fault they see you as a threat. All of it…” He glanced up, sighing when he saw that the light had turned green again. He shook his head as he drove through the intersection. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

He was silent for the remainder of the drive, and I was too. I stared out the window or at my lap as I tried to process what he’d said. It wasn’t a surprise; it wasn’t even necessarily something I didn’t already suspect. It was just hard to hear the words, accept the words, know the words were brutally honest and true. I wasn’t sure what I meant to this man at the moment, but what I did know for certain was that I’d been nothing to him once, less than nothing. I’d been a threat to his agenda, I’d been a thorn in his side, I’d been a player in his game, the kind you sacrifice easily with not much thought for the greater goal.

He pulled into the valet lane when we reached Trump Tower, and he put his car in park as he waited for the valet to open my door.

“I
have
used you,” he said quietly.

My eyes bounced around uncomfortably as he studied me. I hated the feeling that welled up inside me when I thought about those words.

“But Sunday morning was different. I used…
us
to remove you from this.”

I looked at him then, and he studied my eyes for a moment.

“Though after spending the last couple days in Washington, I’m not sure how much I actually accomplished in that regard,” he muttered, but he smiled weakly as he reached out and ran his thumb across my chin.

My door was suddenly pulled open, and I pulled my attention away from him as I stepped out of the car, peering over the roof as he climbed out too. “You were out of town?”

He nodded as he rounded the car. “Yeah. They called me to D.C. to discuss David.” He opened his mouth to say something further, but he stopped, closing his mouth. He took my hand, pulling me toward the doorman, who was patiently waiting for us.

I walked with him through the lobby to the elevators. “David hasn’t called me, and I won’t answer if he does. And he can’t set up time with me either now, so…”

His brow furrowed as he turned toward me. “What do you mean he hasn’t called you? Doesn’t he have to go through The Service to reach you?”

“I gave him my phone number once.”

Keegan’s jaw clenched tightly, and his nostrils flared, but he didn’t respond.

“I was seeing him regularly. It just became easier in case he was running late or something. He still had to go through them to set up time with me. My point is he can’t do that now anyway because I no longer have a job. I stood up a client and refused to answer every single text message The Service sent me after that.”

He squeezed my hand, offering me a small smile as we stepped into the elevator. He stood across from me in the elevator, watching me. His eyes traveled up and down my body, his expression calm, but his jaw tight and his nostrils flaring. I knew this look. I liked this look entirely too much.

“Can’t you tell your bosses that…that he
can’t
see me anymore? That I don’t work for The Service anymore?” I asked him once we’d stepped off the elevator and his eyes had something to look at other than me.

“I intend to. I’m just not sure it will matter.” He opened the door to his condo, holding it open for me.

“But why wouldn’t it mat—” I actually forgot what I was going to ask him in that very moment because his palm met the front of my neck as he swiftly pushed me up to the wall just inside the door. He held me there gently with one hand as his other pushed swiftly up under my skirt to cup my sex through my underwear. He squeezed, leaning in close to me. His breath touched my lips, and his eyes studied them, but he didn’t kiss me.

“We’re done talking.”

His fingers stroked my neck, and his breath touched my skin, and the hand between my legs warmed me. He licked his lips as he stared at mine, and then he abruptly released his hold on me, grabbed my hand, and pulled me toward his bedroom.

His room was dark, but the drapes were fully open, letting in only a muted, barely-there light. I walked up to the wall of windows, my eyes straining to see much of anything. It was cloudy and foggy, and the lights below were blurred and dulled by the clouds that lingered around the top of the tower. It made the world seem distant outside these windows, dark and cold.

Keegan turned on the bedside lamp, and my reflection was suddenly staring back at me. When he turned on the floor lamp that sat behind the occasional chair, my reflection became practically mirror clear.

I looked tired. I was tired. It was early morning, and I’d yet to sleep. I didn’t want to sleep, though. I wanted this.

Keegan stepped up behind me, focusing on my face in the glass. His hands touched my shoulders, and he slipped my coat off, laying it on the chair. When he returned to me, he lowered the zipper that ran down my back, still studying my eyes. He undid my black lace bra before he’d even pushed my dress off my shoulders, and he lowered both down my arms, letting my bra fall off and my dress pool at my feet.

I was naked aside from my black lace underwear, and he kneeled behind me, peeling them down and kissing my bottom at the same time. He gripped my buttocks, pulling my cheeks apart, and when the pad of his thumb brushed over my anus, I gasped. But he didn’t linger. He stood again, standing behind me as he undressed and still watched me.

I loved the way he looked at me. It was different than other men, or maybe I just felt different about him. But there was always an intensity to it, and his eyes always lingered as though he wasn’t ready to be done with me. He tossed his shirt aside, and after he pulled a condom from his pants pocket, he dropped the pants to his ankles and kicked them away too. When he stripped his socks off his feet, he leaned down and helped me clear my dress and underwear from around my ankles too.

I listened to him tear into the condom packet, and his fingers brushed my back as he worked to put it on. When his palm ran down my bottom, he hummed.

“Put those hands on the glass and lean forward a little bit.”

He reached for my hip and pulled my bottom back farther. He slid his hand between my thighs and pushed them apart, and then his fingers started prodding and caressing the lips of my sex. He spread them and stroked the wet skin gently as my breath fogged the glass in front of me. When his cockhead nudged against me, I whimpered. And then he thrust, piercing straight to my core as he grunted.

His eyes never left mine in the reflection of the window, and I focused on him as he started fucking me. The position put him deep, almost painfully deep, and my high heels kept me at the perfect height for his thrusts.

He reached over my shoulder, wrapping his hand around the front of my throat, gently pulling back and keeping me upright. His other hand ran over my bottom, and when I felt the tip of his finger slide into my anus, I froze. He thrust his cock hard into me, stilling himself and staying buried to the hilt inside me, and my fingers trembled against the glass.

He pushed his finger ever so slightly deeper, and my muscles seized around him as a groan escaped my lips.

“Do you like that?” he whispered as he leaned to my ear.

“I don’t know.” I was panting, and there was this part of me that wanted him to keep going—every part of me in truth—but coupled with that desire was absolute terror.

I focused on the feel of his breath as it touched the top of my shoulder.

“You don’t know?” He repeated my words. “You haven’t done this?” His voice was gentle and soothing.

I shook my head. “It wasn’t required, and I always refused.”

“Huh…” His voice came out on a breath. “What does it feel like?” He pushed deeper before he slowly pulled back out, and then he thrust again, penetrating me shallowly with just one finger.

“Strange. It tickles.”

“Tickles?” He pushed all the way in then, and I groaned.

This definitely felt good.

He studied my eyes, and when he brought his lips to my ear, he smirked. “My cock won’t tickle, sweetie.”

He started thrusting his finger slowly in and out, sinking knuckle deep every time, and I whimpered, even as he hummed warmly, seductively.

“Will it hurt?”

His free hand, which was still gently clasping the front of my throat, slid up and over my chin to my mouth. Two fingers passed between my lips. He kept thrusting into my bottom, even as his fingers in my mouth ran over my tongue. I sucked on them, and his breath caught in his throat.

“A little bit,” he finally responded. His fingers left my mouth, and he ran his palm down my body and between my legs. He toyed with my clit, and I cursed.

“But I’ll be gentle with you,” he whispered against my ear.

He was still fully imbedded in my pussy, and I desperately wanted to move, wanted him to move, wanted him to fuck, but he didn’t. Instead, his finger penetrated my anus as his others stroked my clit. My muscles were tight, my legs rigid, and my toes curled as though I needed to keep my grip on something lest I float away.

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