Wild (17 page)

“It’s okay. It’s my life, what I grew up with. So when I say I have no family, I don’t.”

“No friends?” I knew I was pushing her limits, but she’d given me nothing before now.

“Not really. I don’t really get attached to people.”

My mind worked over her words. Such an odd thing to say, that she didn’t get attached to people. I placed a sweet kiss on her shoulder. “So no family, no friends, and you move all the way out here to the coast of Maine.”

“Mm hmm,” she hummed as the firelight danced in the reflection of her eyes.

“Well, I’m glad you came. Things were getting boring around here.” A grin tipped my lips as I kissed along her soft flesh.

She waited a few moments, her eyes watching the fire. “Tell me the real reason you don’t sail.”

My heart tightened in my chest. She was gazing at the fire, unwilling to meet my eyes. Almost as if she hadn’t said a word at all.

I tossed around the ideas running through my head, debating if I wanted to open up, deciding if I was willing to tell her.

“My dad was a fisherman.”

“I thought he refinished boats like you do?”

“He did that in the off-season, but his main job was fishin’. He fished off shore, Georges Bank, be gone for weeks on end sometimes. He did it for years; it was in his blood, I think. His dad and his dad’s dad, they were all fishermen.” I paused and laid my head on my open palm as my eyes watched the fire dance and lick the old brick. “One year, just before Thanksgiving, a storm kicked up. One of the worst we’d had in years, and it took them by surprise. The storms up here just do that sometimes,” I mumbled, realizing I was rambling a bit as I played with the tendril of hair that licked around her neck. “Ninety mile per hour winds, just twenty miles from shore and they disappeared off radar. Just gone. They never found anything, not a single scrap of the boat, a life raft, nothing.”

“That’s awful,” she murmured so softly I could hardly make out her words.

“It was hardest on my mom. I was fifteen; Ridge was thirteen. We sort of lost her that night too. She just couldn’t deal with losing him. They were high school sweethearts. When he was around, her face would light up and her eyes would sparkle. I found them dancing around the kitchen late one night to old band music. They didn’t see me, but the way he held her in his arms, so soft and tender, I think he knew she was fragile. And she was. I didn’t know it then, but after she lost him, she just . . . disappeared. She had some inpatient stays at a mental hospital, and just over two years after he was gone, she joined him.”

“Lane.” Her soft lips formed the words. Somehow, it soothed my heart to open up to her. She reached one palm up to caress my cheek. My eyes drifted closed and I took in the sympathy radiating off her. I hadn’t said those words in years; the only people that knew what had happened were the people in town that had watched it unfold.

“Claire took us in after that. I was seventeen and Ridge fifteen and we were alone. I tried to keep it all together, but Ridge . . . he didn’t handle losing them well. I tried to keep him straight, but he got into drugs, stealing. When he finally turned eighteen, I think everyone in town heaved a sigh of relief when he left. He’s only been back a few times since.” I gritted my teeth at the thought of my brother.

She only nodded before curling up under my shoulder and snaking an arm around my waist.

“My mom was beautiful. Dark hair, long, she always wore it in a ponytail. My brother and I used to play with it when we were young.” I trailed my fingers through her hair, lost in the memory.

“I’d love to see pictures sometime.”

“Mmm . . .” I hummed, a small smile splitting my lips as I thought about showing Kat snippets of my childhood. “I’d like that, Sugar.” I traced my thumb across the bow of her lips.

I hoped I wouldn’t regret opening up to her. I didn’t know what we were. I didn’t know if what we had could be more, or if I even wanted it to be, but I hadn’t opened up to anyone in a long time and that meant something.

“You said you had family out East?” I tried to change the subject from my depressing life story.

“No.” She shook her head and the magic moment was gone. I could see the shield come up over her eyes. “Not anymore.”

“Were they from Maine?”

“My mom grew up in Portland. I never knew those relatives, though. Once my mom married my dad . . . they sort of lost touch.”

“Kennedy? A good New England name,” I murmured as I ran a fingertip across her eyebrow and down her temple.

Her eyes fluttered closed as she took in my soft touch, and her body quaked before she murmured, “It was my mom’s maiden name.”

“Kennedy is her maiden name? That’s not your real last name?”

Her eyes shot open as if she hadn’t meant to say that, hadn’t meant to reveal that about herself.

“I won’t say anything.”

She shook her head as tears pricked her eyes. “It’s . . . I wanted to honor . . . it’s complicated, but it’s probably not what you’re thinking,” she rambled.

“Not thinkin’ anything, Sugar,” I caught her gaze and told her honestly. She watched me for a moment, as if judging if she could trust me. “Scouts honor.” I raised a hand and my mouth lifted in a silly grin.

“I bet you weren’t even a boy scout.” She grinned and shoved me playfully.

“Troop two oh two.”

“Give me a break.” She smiled and tucked back into my shoulder, turning her face up to the ceiling, her eyes lost somewhere other than here.

“So, Kat Kennedy, whose real name isn’t Kennedy.” I traced a finger along her hairline. “Is your real name even Kat?”

She glared at me and pursed her lips as if she were debating telling me something.

“Wait—no shit. Is your name not Kat?”

“Katherine.” She licked her lips as her gaze held mine. “Katherine is my middle name,” she said so softly I wasn’t even sure I’d heard her right.

“What’s your first name?” I locked eyes with hers, searching her mossy green depths, looking for some kernel of trust to reveal itself. I waited for her answer as she gazed right back at me.

“I don’t like it. I don’t use it.” She turned and threw an arm over her head, the blanket falling down her body to outline the top swell of her breast.

“Mmm,” I groaned and stroked along the soft flesh that was newly revealed. “I can live with that.”

Her eyes trained on the firelight dancing across the ceiling. “I’m sorry.”

“‘Bout what?” I was wholly distracted by my fingertips trailing across her silky skin.

“About the other night. At the restaurant. I didn’t sleep with him, I just let you think that to piss you off.”

“Sure fucking worked,” I grumbled as relief flooded my system.

“I didn’t even go home with him. I was just . . . so upset about that night at the bar, and . . . it’s really not smart for us to be together.” I watched her throat contract as she clenched her teeth together.

“If it’s not smart for me to be with you like this, then I don’t want to be smart,” I muttered before trailing a tongue along the path my finger had just taken.

“Lane . . .” she moaned softly as her fingers tangled in my hair.

“You know you’re the only one I let call me that, right?” I turned her chin to me. I wanted her to know I was giving her something that no one else had. Because like it or not, I was getting more tangled up in Kat by the day, and not just for her sexy body that I liked to drive into at every moment possible. I liked her for so much more than that and it was at that moment that I knew I was in deep.

Kat and I spent three days huddled in her house, waiting for the storm to pass, then the road to clear and the county to dig us out. Kat moaned that I’d plowed my way in here, why couldn’t I plow us back out. I made a sick joke about the only kind of plowing I wanted to do was into her. She feigned disgust until I pressed my head between her thighs and discovered just how much she liked it when I talked dirty.

Those three days, in fact, had me wondering what it would be like to spend every day with her. Wake up with her tangled mess of red hair on my pillow; go to bed with her sexy ass pressed against me each night.

She’d been consuming my thoughts the past few days since we’d been plowed out. Something had changed between us. I told her my sad story, at least part of it, and she’d told me what little she’d been willing to tell me, but it was enough. At least for now, I would take it as long as it meant seeing her. And see her I did. I wasn’t fighting us anymore. I wasn’t stupid enough to try and convince myself she was just a fuck. Finding a girl that I liked to ride my dick every night and talk to was a miracle in itself, and one I wasn’t about to let slip through my fingers.

I’d seen her every day since life had resumed to normal. We went out for lunch, I brought her coffee and bagels in the morning, and each time, I snagged a kiss before I left for the marina. Best fucking way to start my morning. The only thing better would be pounding balls deep in her, but if that wasn’t in the cards, this was second best.

But it wasn’t enough. Mornings and lunches were no longer enough.

So here I sat with her, a week after the storm. We’d ordered takeout from the bar and were eating it at my place. We sat cross-legged on the living room floor, cartons spread out on the coffee table, eating and laughing, and I was thinking about asking her to stay over. Not that she hadn’t stayed before, but I wanted it to mean something this time. I was a straightforward kind of guy; I fucking hated beating around the bush and I refused to do it. I just hoped that I wouldn’t scare Kat off if I laid my cards on the table.

“So I was thinking you could stay tonight.”

“Oh yeah?” She cocked her head to one side, amusement flashing in her eyes. “You want to ravage my body?” She grinned.

“Always, babe. But I want you in my bed after. All night.”

“What? Why?” Her eyes scrunched up in an adorable way. That was it. I’d gone soft for this girl. I’d willingly tucked my balls right in her fucking purse and given them to her with a smile on my face. I was a certified pussy.

“Like feeling your body pressed to mine. Waking up with you tucked into my arm and hogging my pillow.” I grinned at her.

“I do not.” She rolled her eyes.

“You do. And I like it. Reminds me I have you in my arms.”

“Hmm . . .” She watched me as she sipped soda. Her lips pursed around the straw made my dick twitch.

It was settled. As soon as I had her comfortable with staying here more, I was taking her right here on the fucking coffee table. Driving into her, smacking her ass, and pulling her hair, just the way she liked it.

“I want you to stay here more. I want us to stay together more. Here or your place, I don’t care. I just don’t like you sneaking out and driving home late.”

“So this is for my benefit?” She arched an eyebrow. Little shit, she was fucking with me, trying to draw it out of me. Fine. I’d give her what she thought she wanted.

“Look, babe. I like sinking into you at every fucking opportunity. But I also like holding you in my arms after, smelling that fruity shit in your hair, the smell of me on you in the morning. I want you to walk around with my smell on you all day. I want everyone to know that this,” I reached between her legs and rubbed her pussy, “is mine. Only mine. I don’t like to share. And I want you here with me, more than you’ve been.” I finished and watched her eyes darken.

“No.”

“No?”

She dropped her eyes and hit me with a glare that could turn a warm-blooded man to stone. The devil was coming out to play and fuck if my dick didn’t perk right up. He wanted a piece of the action, even if she was in a dangerous mood.

“You want me in your bed? Want everyone to know I’m yours?”

I nodded as I watched her tits heave with every pant.

“Stop undressing me with your eyes and look at me.”

My head jerked up at the anger in her voice. “I’m not yours. I’m not anyone’s. Get that straight. You want to fuck, Lane. We can fuck. But that’s all you’re getting.”

“Fuck, baby.” I lunged at her, fisted her hair in one hand, and arched her head back. I tugged and her eyes flared as a moan escaped her throat. “I hear what you’re saying, but this fucking body craves me. It wants my lips.” I kissed around her ear. “My tongue.” I ran my tongue up the column of her neck. “My dick.” I ground my pelvis against hers. She wrapped her arms around me, ran her palms up under my shirt, and clutched at the skin, digging her nails deep and pulling. “Fuucckk,” the words hissed from between my teeth from the pain.

“You want to fuck me? So fuck me. Stick it in me. Rail me. Hard.” She bit down on the muscle at my shoulder when she finished.

“Jesus.” I fumbled at my jeans and popped the button before struggling to pull hers down her legs. She kicked the denim off before my hand tugged at her panties and tore them off. Groaning and writhing beneath me on the floor, her neck arched, I sunk into her before her lips clamped down on her bottom lip and she moaned. I supported her on one elbow and ripped at the buttons of her shirt with my other hand like a wild man, exposing her skin and the dainty lace covering her tits. I ripped at that too and trailed my nose between her breasts as she whimpered while I inhaled into her. I ran my nose around the edge of her nipple, watching it harden with desire before I sucked it into my mouth and pulled on it with my teeth.