9. Kane
NINE
KANE
“Climb on,” I said, voice rough.
Emery looked around like she might be searching for a place to hide.
“You ever ride on a bike before?”
“Once,” she whispered in that sultry voice. One I doubted she had the first clue went straight to my dick.
“And you mean to tell me it wasn’t your favorite thing you’ve ever done?” I tried to instill as much lightness into it as I could find. But it was difficult when I was looking at her like this.
The way I felt all fucked up at the sight of her.
This clashing toil of wanting to glut and devour, get lost in that tight little body, all while I had the overwhelming urge to wrap her up to protect it.
Shield her from whatever haunted those gorgeous eyes.
Had never had a reaction like this to a woman before. Not once. Hadn’t even known it was possible.
Sure, the woman was stunning.
This riot of staggering, rare beauty.
I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t take everything I had not to reach out and run my fingers through that lush fall of blonde hair. Soft, wavy locks, a shimmery gold woven with streaks of bronze.
It skimmed over her bare shoulders and arms that were exposed by the dressy pink tank top she wore. The neckline V’d and ridged in scalloped lace, the straps thin and accentuating her delicate angles.
It was tucked into the fitted jeans she wore. Jeans that hugged the slight flare of her hips.
Every line of that face defined, a carving of beauty, her jaw rigid and held in her sweet volatility.
My stomach twisted with the way those pink, plump lips looked like someone had just kissed the fuck out of her.
Swollen and ripe.
I itched, overcome with a swell of possession.
The errant thought hitting me that I wanted every single one of those kisses to belong to me.
So wayward and faulty that I had no clue what the fuck had come over me.
But more than all of that?
It was the energy she emitted that had me trapped. This thing that made me feel like she was supposed to be right here, right now.
“No, not my favorite thing.” Her voice was shaky and shallow.
I let a grin hitch the edge of my mouth. “Trust me, beautiful, I’m about to change that.”
Anticipation twisted my guts in a fist of greed when Emery took three tentative steps forward as she mumbled, “You’re awfully confident.”
“Simply know what I have to offer.”
Mostly the way I wanted to make that body come alive in a thousand different ways.
Watch her glow and shine.
Wipe the fear away.
She approached my bike like it might reach out and bite her.
I stretched out a hand, trying to remind myself that getting her alone wasn’t what this was about .
This was going back to the questions she evoked when she’d shown up at my door. Questions it felt critical to get the answers to.
She’d been there for a reason, and not because she’d been lost .
Maybe it’d been simply because she was looking for me. And fuck, some flawed spot inside me wanted her to do it.
Find me.
Completely.
I almost laughed.
Some flawed spot?
Like my entire fucking life wasn’t flawed?
Treacherous and grim?
One step away, Emery paused. Those entrancing, toffee-kissed eyes swirled with uncertainty.
All the playfulness I’d been fronting drained away. “This bike is an extension of me, Emery. You don’t have to be afraid.”
Skepticism filled her huff. “That probably gives me all the more reason to be.”
I could feel her trembling as she carefully lifted her leg so she could swing it over. I helped her, shifting around the best that I could to guide her onto the seat.
She settled on it with three inches of space separating us.
I took the handlebars again, kicking the bike over and shouting over the roar, “You’re going to want to wrap those arms around me and hold on tight.”
When I pulled back on the throttle to rev it, she surged forward, doing exactly that.
Holding on with all her might, those delicate arms wrapped so snug around my waist I could hardly breathe.
Or maybe it was just the feel of her against my back that was stealing the air.
That body plastered against mine, her small tits and her ravaging heart and her quivering thighs.
My right hand clamped down on the top of her right leg, and she nearly jumped two feet in the air. “I’ve got you, Emery. Just hold on. Won’t let anything happen to you. ”
She had her cheek pressed between my shoulders, and I didn’t even know how I heard it since the words barely broke the air.
Maybe I just felt them knitting into my flesh.
Their weight when she released them between my shoulder blades over my shirt.
“Why am I supposed to trust you?”
She had no reason to.
Hell, she shouldn’t at all.
And still, I settled my hand over hers that were locked on the front of my abdomen, voice low when I muttered, “Because I mean it. I’ve got you.”
I wanted to. The way I’d wanted to last night. The way I’d wanted to erase the sorrow that had her chained.
Gripping the handlebars, I backed the bike out of the spot with my boots, then I pulled back on the throttle and took us to the street.
She squeezed tight. Tighter than she should be able to.
The feel of her everywhere. Dainty arms and slim thighs and delicious scent.
Nothing but fresh orange blossoms. A morning glory under the sun.
I reveled in it the whole time I drove us the short distance to Kane’s.
It was scarcely more than a mile, and two minutes later, I slowed and pulled into the lot at my club.
I eased my bike up along the side wall that was reserved for motorcycles. Not that there was anyone else around other than a few employees prepping for tonight.
Kane’s didn’t open until seven, so we’d have plenty of privacy.
I kicked the stand and killed the engine.
Emery kept clinging to me like she’d gotten locked that way. Arms bands that wouldn’t give. Like she didn’t know how to let go.
Or maybe she worried if she did, she’d have to face whatever had brought her to my door.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” I asked.
“Speak for yourself,” she grumbled .
A low chuckle got loose before I swallowed it down and warned, “Be sure to watch the tailpipe when you hop off.”
I took one of her hands to help her, and a heavy breath left her as she disentangled herself from me.
She swung off wide.
So wide that she stumbled backward, nearly falling onto her ass.
Thankfully, I still had hold of one of her hands, and I hauled her upright in the same second that I jumped off. Grabbing onto her elbows to steady her, dragging her too close as I murmured, “Whoa. You okay?”
Tears suddenly blurred those eyes, horror in their depths, and she glumly shook her head. “No. I’m not okay.”
I wanted to demand that she tell me what that meant right there.
Pry her secrets from her so I could hold them.
But I forced some patience when I offered, “Why don’t we go inside so you can tell me what that means?”
She gave a jolting nod, and she turned to head for the front entrance. I was right at her side, settling my palm on the sweet spot at the small of her back.
At the bare contact, a ragged breath left her, and she seemed to shake herself out of whatever had tied her tongue, her voice thready when she asked, “You own this place?”
“Yeah. Kane’s. It’s a nightclub. Super clever name, I know.” I laughed at my own expense.
“Kane.” She whispered it like it was a secret.
“That’s right.”
A current of trepidation vibrated through me as my mind tossed through the memories of last night. Realizing I hadn’t given her my name and she’d still wound up at my door.
I didn’t have time to fully contemplate it before she rushed through a rasp, “Then why were you at that other bar last night?”
Unease rumbled through me as we walked along the exterior wall and around to the steps that led to the ornate double doors. I paused in front of them.
Unsure of what to tell her. Knowing the truth would send her running and knowing I couldn’t give it to her, anyway .
No one could hold that except for my family.
Which was why whatever the hell I thought I was doing right then was so reckless.
I gave her the only explanation I could offer. “Because I own that one, too, along with two others in town.”
I had no idea where the contemptuous sound came from that ripped up her throat as she looked away for a beat. Like she was angry with me about it.
“You didn’t tell me your name last night.” It sounded like an accusation.
A frown curved my brow, and I framed my response carefully. “You didn’t ask.”
Her laugh was shallow and hard, and she sniffled as she tipped that gorgeous face back up toward me. “No. You’re right. I didn’t ask.”
Confusion bound me, and I angled my head, trying to understand where she was coming from. Why disgust was suddenly radiating from her as she looked at me as if I were guilty of something.
Without a doubt, I was.
Guilty of so many fuckin’ things that if she even had a hunch of them she’d bolt so fast I’d never be able to catch up to her.
But there was no chance she had a clue of that.
Eyes still pinned to hers, I reached behind me and pushed down on the latch to open the door. “Let’s go inside so we can talk about whatever is troubling you.”
A howl of energy roared around her, and for a moment, she was rooted, unwilling to budge. My nerves flared beneath it.
Something unsettled tickled at the edge of my consciousness.
Awareness coming on that I was off base.
A different kind of dread dripping into my veins.
Inhaling a breath, she stepped around me and into the old church that I’d converted into my club.
The edges of the cavernous space were darkened, shadows playing along the obscured walls, though rays of afternoon light slanted in through the vertical stained-glass windows that sat up high on the cathedral ceiling .
It sent shimmery color glittering through the drab atmosphere, lighting up the rambling open space at the foot of the stage. Come ten o’clock tonight, that area would be packed with a ton of people out letting go of the cares of this world as they danced the night away.
A long bar ran nearly the entire length of the left wall, and secluded booths took up the rest of the wall space.
None of my employees were out front, so I assumed everyone was back in the kitchen.
“This way,” I told her.
Emery inhaled a shaky breath and followed along a foot behind me, the soles of our shoes squeaking against the worn hardwood floors as I led her to a booth on the right that was concealed in the corner.
“Here we go.” I gestured to one side, and she warily slipped into the booth. She peeked up at me with those tumultuous eyes as I stood over her.
“Would you like something to drink? I could probably come up with pretty much whatever you desire .”
My voice deepened with the last, wanting to fulfill it in every way. This thing that thrummed between us, a crackling of energy, though it was diluted by those storm clouds that hung heavy around her.
“No, I’m fine.”
Disquiet tightened my guts, and I moved to take the spot across from her.
Leaning back in the booth, I gazed at her as she fidgeted.
Apprehension fluttered across those pretty features, this distrust and suspicion that I could somehow discern was directed at me.
A frown pulled to my brow. “Need you to tell me what the hell is going on, Emery, because from where I’m sitting, it’s something big.”
I sat there and watched this war go down in her expression.
A war that was waged on the inside.
Then she set the full force of her attention on me, and she lifted her quivering chin in some kind of challenge.
“Kane Asher?”
It was both a statement and a question.
A plea and a judgment .
What the fuck was going on?
Antsy, I shifted on the plush, high-backed seat and roughed a hand through my hair.
For men like me, it wasn’t exactly safe when a stranger came sniffing around, digging into who you were.
Had never taken on a pseudonym. None of us had. Figured if we lived our lives to the closest semblance of normal, it would raise fewer questions.
But I could see the questions whooshing all over her face.
“Guilty.” I tried to frame it a tease, a haphazard shrug of my shoulder. While I sat there knowing I was being convicted.
Emery hesitated before she turned to dig into the little purse she’d had slung across her body. She pulled something out and held it in her hands.
A picture, I realized.
My heart suddenly took off at a sprint.
Sweat slicking my skin.
Not sure why, but somehow knowing with absolute certainty that whatever she was getting ready to show me was going to change everything.
For a moment, she held it hidden against her chest as she pinned those eyes on me.
Pain lancinated through her expression, a sorrow so distinct that I would have dropped to my knees if I hadn’t already been sitting.
I was slammed with it.
A rogue wave that dragged us both out to sea.
Grief.
Then she slowly set it in the middle of the table and slid it farther across to me, her words soggy and thick when she whispered, “Her name is Maci, and she’s your daughter.”