Thin Love (43 page)

“The girl is almost nineteen, Cora. There isn’t much you can keep her from doing now. Stop being so rigid.” Her stepfather’s words had been slurred, a bit clipped and that had set off World War Three. Her mother’s shrieking reply to her husband began accompanied by the cruel, drunken come backs Steven seemed eager to level at his wife. Keira could still hear the shouts growing louder downstairs.

She pulled back, jumping from her bed when she heard her mother pounding up the stairs. “Keira?” Three quick knocks on the door, which Keira had locked, and then the door rattled. “Keira answer me.”

A quick glance over her shoulder to make sure Kona’s shirt was fastened and Keira opened the door an inch. “What, Mother?”

The woman moved her head around Keira’s arm, eyes squinting before she caught Kona standing in front of the French doors, hands in his pockets. “How long is he staying?” Then, before Keira could answer, she spoke again, voice louder. “This is highly inappropriate. You know that Mark wanted to see you. You know that his parents are having a party tonight and…”

“Mother, just stop.” She leaned against the door staring down into her mother’s red-rimmed eyes, shook her head at the way the woman’s pupils dilated. “Mark and I went out on one date. He’s my friend and he’s moved on to, um, other things. He and I aren’t happening so put it out of your mind.”

“I will not have you and that… that boy up here doing God knows what. Not in my house, Keira.”

“Will you kindly shut the hell up, Cora?” Steven’s voice carried from downstairs and Keira looked down at her feet, trying not to laugh, when her mother’s eyes grew cold, when she straightened her shoulders at her husband’s loud shout.

“You know what?” She told her mother, standing up straight. “Why don’t you worry about your own crumbling relationship and leave mine alone?” The telltale scowl crossed her mother’s face, that heavy anger she always wore anytime Keira defied her and Keira sighed, tired of the scare tactic. She saw the quick circle of her fist, knowing the woman itched to smack her, but Kona behind her in her room was like an electric current, shooting nerve, searing strength into her. She wouldn’t let her mother do that again, especially not in front of her boyfriend. “What? You wanna slap me around some more? Go ahead. Try it.”

Her mother’s shoulders grew tighter, straighter when Kona came to stand behind her, when the huge linebacker opened the door wider and pushed Keira behind him. “I don’t think she wants to do that, Wildcat. Do you, Mrs. Michaels?”

Keira’s mother hated Kona. Kiera could see it. It was in the bend of her mouth, the way the woman stepped back. She didn’t quite cower, didn’t show her fear, but Keira knew what that frown meant; she knew that the pinched nose and curling lip meant that Kona’s presence in her home was distinctly distasteful, offensive, as though he was deviling her order, the pristine and sterile faux happiness her mother tried to present to the world. Kona was behind closed doors and he’d seen what their lives was really like. That expression on her mother’s face showed anger, true, but real fear of what others would think, would say if Kona spilled their secrets.

But the woman didn’t respond, didn’t try to threaten either of them. The crash of glass and Steven’s drunken cursing sounded from below and she jumped, turned quickly to move down the stairs.

A quick shut and turn of the lock and Keira leaned against the door, dipping her head against Kona’s chest when he stood in front of her.

“How have you lived with that crazy bitch for so long?”

“You’d be surprised what you get used to.”

He tried to pull away; a soft kiss on the top of her head and Kona inched back, likely wanted to get Keira back in bed to rest. But she hung onto him, fingers curled into his shirt and she inhaled, rubbing her face against that hard, comforting chest. She wanted that distinct smell his skin always gave off to filter into her nose. He was warm, he was always warm, and it was that warmth and the heady smell of his body, of his cologne that Keira captured against her nose and held in her chest.

They had learned each other so well. It had only been months, but Keira knew only Kona could give her what she needed. It was his taste, his comfort that she needed right then; only Kona could drive out the sounds of her mother screaming at her husband. Only Kona could fill her up, make the world fall away with his mouth and touch and addictive body.

She only needed to give him a look. Something brief, something real and Kona’s defenses crumbled. He would never deny her. He would never turn his back on her when she ached for him. That night was no different. One brief smile and the pull of her fingers on his face, bringing him to her mouth, and Kona reacted, gave Keira his mouth, his tongue.

“Can’t get enough?” he said, breaking away from her teeth on his bottom lip.

“Of you? Never.”

Kona returned his attention to her mouth, tongue slipping in like it was welcomed. There was no preamble to those touches, no awkward movement that told Keira he held any hesitance. That died the moment she touched him. They moved together like choreography, each touch, each graze of fingers, giving off the grace of instinct, of desperate need that was natural, innate.

Kona’s hips against hers, his large, strong fingers digging into her backside and Keira smiled, feeling the outline of his erection, thinking she could almost taste how hungry he was for her. “You’re getting sick again, Wildcat. Maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

Keira was lightheaded and she thought he was right. She thought maybe that flu was reemerging. But with Kona’s body so close to her, with his scent and touch so deeply sown in her senses, she couldn’t let him walk away. She couldn’t ignore what her body wanted from him. “We’ll be quick and then I promise I’ll go right back to bed.” She tugged him down again, rubbing against him, loving the way his eyes rolled up, how that low groan in his throat made her clit tingle. “Stop talking.”

He picked her up then, pulling her legs around his waist and Keira smiled, that same pleased, eager smile she reserved only for Kona when he let her have her way. His chest rumbled with laughter and those large, dark eyes looked up to the ceiling, a long exhale working out of his mouth. “Spoiled brat.”

And then Kona wiped the smile from Keira’s face. Fingers beneath the waistband of her jeans, dipping under her thong so he could touch, capture the smile with his thumb on her clit and his hot, moist mouth on her neck. “Baby, you’re so wet for me.”

They ignored the roar from below, the loud, angry screech of her mother’s high voice and the crash of a glass, perhaps a bottle, slamming against the wall. “I hear where you get your lungs from.” Keira felt too much sensation to comment on his small dig. All that white noise of the room, of the row below them disappeared, shifted from Keira’s mind as Kona’s thumb worked fast, as he slipped two fingers inside her.

“I can’t. Do it, Kona.
Please
. I need you inside me.”

“Let me get a condom.”

Keira could hear the wind down, the slow finish of her mother and stepfather’s bellowing fight and she knew there wasn’t time. She wanted to feel Kona. She wanted to feel all of him and that touch, that release could not be delayed. “No time, she’ll be back up here in a minute.” She leaned up, twisted her hips so that his fingers went deeper into her and Kona hissed, eyes closing as she squeezed her muscles against his fingers. “Just… just pull out.”

He didn’t need convincing. Kona reached down, picked up a towel from the floor, set it on the table next to the door and pulled Keira’s jeans and thong off her. Then, he slipped inside her. Each thrust he made into her, every snap of him driving into her welcoming body, had Keira’s shoulders bumping against the door and she loved the sound. It was like a melody, their quick movements, the slap of their flesh meeting and Keira wanted more, always more.

“You always feel so good, baby.” His voice was calm, but on the end of his words Kona released a long breath. “So tight and warm. I could eat you alive.”

Keira felt full, sated in the heavy pant of Kona’s breath, in the groans of pleasures that passed over his mouth as he sank in deeper. He planted kisses on her neck, over her face and Keira felt worshipped, wanted, cherished. With ever pull against her body, every slick swipe of his thumb on her clit, Keira’s heart pounded and she clamped around Kona inside her, loving the shudder of his shoulders and his grip on her hair.

“Wildcat, you’re so fucking wet tonight. I… I’ll never get tired of how good you feel.” He growled once, liking how she let him lead, how Keira relaxed against him so he could drive in deep into her.

Just his praise, those softly grunted words had Keira arching, had Kona’s hips working faster, quicker and she let go and came around him, the orgasm extending, lingering because Kona knew how to touch her, knew what she needed.

She felt so swollen, so full and missed the warmth of his body when Kona jerked out of her and spilled himself moments later onto the towel.

She barely registered Kona moving around the room, tossing the dirty towel into the hamper, tucking himself back into his jeans. Then Kona pulled on her clothes, kissing up her legs, onto her thighs as he shimmed her jeans back over her body. Each kiss was a tribute and Keira slipped her fingers into his hair, over his shoulders as he stood up.

“I love you,” she said, feeling drunk, so high on her man.

His smile was slight, certain and Kona kissed her nose, took her face between his hands. “I love you too, Wildcat.” The easy grin fell when Keira tried to stand, when that dizzy wobble in her head had her feeling fuzzy. Kona grunted, eyes narrowed and stern. “I told you, you’re relapsing.”

“Totally worth it.”

“You need some more meds.” He led her to her bed, pulling back the duvet. “Call tomorrow and get an appointment. I’ll take you in.” She opened her mouth, meant to argue with him, but Kona’s kiss erased whatever protest she might have from her mind. She loved his tongue, how wide it was, how forcefully he moved it into her mouth; it was a drugging distraction that Kona often used. His cell rang and Kona sat up, took that glorious taste from her mouth when he answered the call.

“Yeah? What?” He glanced at Keira and she hated that frown, hated how he turned away from her and rubbed his fingers in his eyes. “Tonight? I’m not in the city right now.” A quick squint at Keira’s clock and Kona’s shoulders lowered. “Give me an hour. I told you I’m not in the city right now, shit.
Fine
.”

Keira sat up, ignored Kona’s low grunt as she left the bed to join him in front of the French doors. “That was Ricky, wasn’t it?”

“Baby,” he said, kissing her forehead once, “I told you, one last job.”

“Right now? Kona, it’s almost midnight.”

Keira didn’t like this; she didn’t like Kona’s stupid belief that he owed Ricky anything. Ricky, who he’d told her trapped him into selling steroids. Ricky who Kona said needed him for muscle.

“He moved up the drop off date because someone was trying to gank his shipment.” He moved around the room, grabbing his wallet and keys from her bedside table and Keira watched him, a small buzz of worry twisting her stomach.

“And you’re going into the middle of that?” She pulled on his arm, twisting him around to face her. “Are you crazy?” He had to know something was off. He had to know he was walking into something that had Keira’s hands shaking and the bile inching up her throat.

“Keira, this is the last time. I told you that.” Keira’s go-to reaction was always anger, especially when she was scared and right then, fright and worry overtook her, had her frowning at Kona, had her pulling away from him when he touched her. She saw the frustration on his face, that slow pull of his features that told her he wavered about what he should do. “Please don’t get mad at me.” Again, he pulled on her arms, hugging her to his chest and some of her worry eased. “Come on, get in bed and sleep. You need to rest up.” She was tired, still a bit woozy from the returning flu and the quickie against the door and she let Kona put her to bed, let him lean over her with his large arms around her waist and those tempting lips against her mouth. “I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”

She pushed him back. “Kona, no…”

“What the hell do you want from me?” She knew Kona wasn’t angry at her. He’d often been snippy, on edge since he stopped taking steroids. It was a struggle, an effort he’d told Keira that he fought every day. He’d replace that poison with her, wanting her, needing her like a drug. This anger wasn’t about her, not really. She could always tell the difference between his tempers. It was the situation, his wanting to give in to her argument that he ignore Ricky’s direction and some mild fear about the potential for something dangerous developing. Still, Kona being Kona meant that he lashed out, just like Keira, at whomever was closest. “I’m trying to cut this shit loose but I have to do this. One last time, I promise you.”

“Not by yourself.” Keira kicked off the covers, tugged Kona’s hand away from the French door handle when he tried to open it. “Call Luka. Please, Kona, don’t do this by yourself.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, pulling his hand off the handle when she tried to stop him. “Me on North Rampart is nothing and any assholes that are there will think I’m the monster hiding in the shadows.”

That twist in her stomach grew heavier and when Keira hesitated, frown deepened, Kona picked her up, kissing her as he walked her back to her bed.

“Go to sleep, Wildcat and I’ll call you in the morning.” She couldn’t let him go, couldn’t make her arms untangle from their spot around his neck. Keira wanted him to know her fear, to take it seriously. That unnamed sensation of dread crawled into her chest, made breathing difficult and her fear must have been etched across her face. Kona’s small temper faded and he took her face in his large hand. “You worry too much, baby.” A small kiss that lingered and Keira felt the small whip of electricity move between them. Kona reared back, smiling. “I love you.”

He was off the bed and out on her balcony before Keira could reply. That burning dread in her gut only simmered more and Keira watched Kona leave around the side of her house, hurrying across her back lawn. She couldn’t let him do this on his own. She couldn’t be the only sensible voice telling him he was in danger.