Under His Skin (For His Pleasure, Book 20) (10 page)

They cleaned up in relative silence, and
when the dishes and pots and pans were piled into the sink, Kennedy turned on
the water.

“What are you doing?” Easton asked her.

“I thought I’d wash the dishes.
 
You cooked the meal, it’s the least I
can do.”

Easton stood for a moment behind her, as
if he wanted to say something important.
 
She turned her head to look at him, hoping against hope that he would
relent and tell her what was wrong.

“Okay,” he said, finally.
 
“I appreciate it.”
 

Kennedy smiled at him but he didn’t
return the smile.
 
He just turned
and left the room, and she heard his footsteps on the stairs going up to the
next floor.

She suddenly felt as though she wanted to
cry, but it wasn’t as if anything terrible had happened.
 
One moment they’d been discussing his
life, the next she was shut out again, the wall was up higher than ever.

And what about the sex?
 
What about the magnificent way he’d
loved her earlier?
 
Had that been
just another brief interlude?
 

Easton was moody, mercurial and
unpredictable.
 
She just couldn’t
understand why he’d changed and gotten so distant yet again.
 
Kennedy continued to replay their dinner
conversation as she cleaned the dishes and then loaded the dishwasher.

I
never should have criticized his father.
 
He was finally opening up and I had to give my big fat opinion.

She shook her head, as she washed her
hands and toweled them off.
 
The
dishwasher was running and the kitchen was clean.

Kennedy looked around, wondering what she
was supposed to do next.
 
Where had
Easton gone?

Slowly, tentatively, she walked to the
stairs.
 
“Easton?” she called out,
but it was too soft.
 
She called his
name louder.

No answer.
 

Kennedy’s stomach was flipping uneasily,
and the sense that things had taken a wrong turn was growing as she started up
the stairs.
 
Each creak as her foot
pressed down was like something out of a horror movie.

At the top of the stairs, she came to
hallway, and looking in both directions, she wasn’t sure which way to go.
 
She turned left and walked to the end,
knocking on the door.
 

No answer.
 

Slowly, Kennedy reached out and turned
the handle.

“What are you doing?”

Kennedy shouted in fear, startling as she
spun.
 
Easton had emerged from one
of the rooms and was watching her from the other end of the hallway, his arms
folded.
 

“I—I thought—“

“You thought what?” he said, walking
towards her now, his arms swinging, like a drill sergeant.
 
When he got within a few feet of her, he
stopped.
 

“I called your name but you didn’t
answer, so I came up to look for you.”

Easton pulled out his cell phone.
 
“You could’ve texted me,” he said,
practically sneering.
 
“But then you
wouldn’t have been able to snoop around my house.”

“I swear,” she said, “I wasn’t snooping.”

His face was a mask of disdain.
 
“I’ve made a mistake with you,” he
growled.
 
“I let you get too close,
too comfortable.
 
And I don’t know
how many times I need to see that you take liberties with my trust before I start
to take measures.”

“Measures?”

“As long as you’re in this house, you’ll
stay on this side,” he told her, pointing at the door she’d been about to
open.
 
“You sleep in this room.
 
It has a bathroom.
 
You’re to use only that bed and that
bathroom for all of your needs.
 
It’s a guest room, and there’s nothing in there for you to sneak around
and find.”

“Easton, I’m sorry if I did anything to
offend you.”
 
She licked her lips
and stepped forward.
 
“I know that I
gave a stupid opinion about your father—“

Easton’s expression darkened.
 
“Don’t talk about my father,
Kennedy.
 
Ever.”
 
He took a deep breath and let it out.
 
“That’s another thing.
 
You’re not to ask me questions or offer
any opinions unless I ask.
 
You keep
silent unless spoken to, understand?”

Kennedy stammered her agreement to his
rules.
 
“Of course, whatever you
want,” she said, once again the clumsy girl who could do no right.

“Good,” Easton said, his expression
unchanged.
 
“You can go to bed now,”
he said, his eyes unforgiving and cold.
 
“Don’t come out again until I wake you up tomorrow morning.”

He turned and walked away from her once
more.

She had half a mind to scream at him, to
call him a coward and a fool and a horrible person.
 
The other part of her just wanted to
sink to the floor and bury her face in her hands, sobbing.

But Kennedy did neither.
 
Instead, she opened the door, went into
the guestroom and shut the door behind her.

She did as Easton had commanded.

***

Kennedy would have thought that sleep
would be difficult.

After all, her life was in shambles.
 
She’d been fired, her sister hated her,
a mob boss had sent his men to abduct her, and the man she was seeing was
driving her insane with his mood swings.

But despite all of her misgivings, all of
her worries and fears, Kennedy climbed into bed in the guestroom and was almost
instantly asleep.

She slept deeply, and it was only with
great difficulty that she was awakened from her gratefully unconscious state.

When Kennedy opened her eyes again, the
room was dark and Easton was in bed with her.
 
He was holding her tightly, his body
pressed tightly against her, arms wrapped around her, and his lips were kissing
the back of her neck.

She stiffened.
 
“What are you doing?” she whispered,
still trying to get her bearings.

Easton stopped kissing her neck.
 
“I couldn’t be away from you,” he said.

She could tell that he was naked.
 
As it was, Kennedy was just wearing his
long t-shirt and nothing else, and she could feel his hard shaft pushing
willfully into her buttocks.

“I don’t understand you, Easton,” she
said, gritting her teeth.

He continued to kiss her neck and his
hands groped to her breasts, massaging them over her shirt.
 

She felt the heat, and she wanted it, but
she was sick of the rollercoaster ride.
 
She struggled to move away from her and he finally let her go.

“What’s the problem?” he said, sounding
annoyed, as if she was making a fuss over nothing.

“You can’t just come in here like this,
wake me out of a dead sleep and expect to have sex.
 
I’m not your little whore.”

It was dark in the room, but her eyes
were adjusting enough to see him grinning.
 
“Don’t be ridiculous, Kennedy,” he said, reaching for her again.

“Stop touching me,” she replied.

There was a long moment of silence.
 
“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to stop jerking me
around.
 
One minute you’re loving
and soft and kind, and the next it’s like you hate the sight of me.”

He sighed.
 
“I told you that I’m a difficult man.”

“You’re acting like a spoiled brat.”

She was a little shocked at her own
temerity.
 
To call Easton Rather a
spoiled brat was asking for trouble.

“Watch how you speak to me,” he said, an
edge creeping into his voice.

“You’re not my boss anymore, Easton.
 
You got fired, just like me.
 
And I’ll speak to you however I feel
like speaking to you.”
 
She felt her
heart beating fast as she pushed herself up to a sitting position on the other
side of the bed.

Easton sat up too.
 
“I should have known better than to let
you in my house,” he said, shaking his head at her.
 
“The second you think you smell
weakness, you go for the jugular.”

“Bullshit.
 
I’m simply telling you to stop treating
me this way.”

“This is who I am, Kennedy.”

“No it’s not.
 
I saw the way you were today at
dinner.
 
I saw how things could be
between us, if you’d just have the courage to let me in.
 
Why won’t you let me in?”

There was another long silence.
 
“I don’t know.”

Something in the sound of his voice as he
said those words nearly snapped her resolve.
 
There was something so defeated, so
broken in his admission, and it made her want to comfort him.
 
She wanted to love him.

“Maybe we could figure it out together,”
she said, and reached her hand out to gently touch his hand.

“What if I can’t ever give you what you
need?” he asked her, sounding strangely earnest.

“Let’s cross the bridge when we come to
it.”
 
She moved toward him, and then
he moved toward her grabbing her by the waist and firmly pulling her into
him.
 
Her shirt slid up her hips,
revealing her entire lower half.

Easton eagerly pushed his naked body up
against her, spreading her legs with his hips.

She grabbed his tight buttocks as he
pressed immediately into her center place, diving his cock down, burying it
instantly within her accommodating space.

“Oh, God,” she moaned.

He felt amazing.
 
Something about the quickness of his
entry turned her on.
 
He was already
inside her, and she was so tight but ready for him anyway.

“Kennedy,” he whispered, looking directly
into her eyes.
 
His voice shook ever
so slightly with need and desire and emotion.

In the semi-darkness of the bedroom, he
began making love to her, slowly, his body moving with utter care and
precision.

Every little motion was exact, every
stroke of his fingertips, the way he slid so slowly in and out, making sure
that nothing was rushed.

She felt his presence fully as if for the
first time.
 
She felt that something
had shifted.
 
Easton was truly loving
her now, not just taking her for his own like some trophy.

Kennedy raked her hands up his backside
and over his muscular, broad back, then swept her fingernails down around his
ribcage.
 
She pressed her palms on
his stomach and massaged up to his chest as he continued to move inside her,
making her more and more wet.

Her legs encircled him now, pulling him
deeply inside.

“I’ve never felt anything this amazing
before in my life,” he said, and then he began kissing her on the mouth, as if
he was trying to breathe with her.
 
As if he wanted to share her very same oxygen as his own.

Their bodies were completely connected,
and Kennedy released herself, taking him in, allowing him to become part of
her.

She felt emotion rise up in her, emotion
so powerful that it was almost as though she might cry, out of how good and how
frightening it felt.

This energy was like something spiritual,
as if the very fabric of her soul was being stitched together in a new pattern,
and that new pattern was connecting with Easton’s soul as well.

She’d never felt so warm, so loved, so
wanted, and it was pure bliss.

Suddenly she was climaxing, and her body
was moving as if having a will of its own.
 
She was moving her hips beneath him, faster and faster.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispered, as she slid her
pelvis back and forth, greasing his shaft with her juices, lubricating him and
tightening her pussy around him.

And then he was coming with her, and they
fell into each other, moaning with exhaustion and utter satisfaction.

When it was over, they were sweaty, their
limbs and bodies stayed intertwined, completely relaxed and at ease.

“If I was a smoking man, now would be the
time,” Easton laughed, still breathing a little heavily.